Jason quickly discerned the horn's function through the system.
Teleportation!
According to his theory, although the Beast had arrived on Earth through the Hand's summoning ritual, it had prepared a contingency plan by creating this teleportation device.
However, since Earth was protected by mystical barriers, the Beast Horn couldn't create a direct passage from the Beast Dimension to Earth. Instead, it had to route through the Hell Dimension.
The Hell Dimension maintained a closer connection to Earth and could use certain methods to bypass the Sanctum's watchful eye.
The system easily decoded the method for using the horn.
Additionally, Jason had just received the [Demonized Body] gift from the Demon God, meaning he could fully utilize his new demonic powers to activate the Beast Horn!
He now had the capability to travel to Hell or even the Beast Dimension!
Of course, while Hell might be an option, venturing into the Beast Dimension would likely result in a swift and brutal death at the hands of the Beast's true form.
Yet just because humans couldn't safely go there didn't mean certain things couldn't be sent...
As these thoughts raced through his mind, a fiery spark suddenly materialized before him. It spun rapidly, expanding into a circular portal.
A bald woman in yellow robes stepped through.
Jason's expression shifted subtly. He gripped the Beast Horn in his right hand and concealed it behind his back. With a thought, black scales sprouted across his hand, muscles bulged beneath his skin, and razor-sharp claws extended from his fingertips, transforming into a demonic appendage.
The horn glowed faintly in response.
Maintaining a neutral expression, he addressed the newcomer. "Did the Ancient One forget her responsibilities? You're late."
The Ancient One regarded him thoughtfully before shaking her head.
"Set aside your tension. I mean you no harm."
"Tense? Me? I'm the hero who just saved New York. I've performed a great service!"
The Ancient One sighed. "A few months ago, several creditors unexpectedly appeared at our doorstep. Since I had nothing to offer and their interest rates were exorbitant, I had no choice but to visit their establishments and negotiate with them... amicably. I didn't anticipate being away for so long, and regrettably, I've neglected certain matters here."
Jason's eye twitched at this explanation.
If you don't pay your debts, creditors show up at your door, and you pay them a "friendly visit" to negotiate...
It sounded remarkably like the plot of a yakuza film, but coming from this enigmatic bald woman, it took on an entirely different meaning.
The truth was likely that someone had borrowed against her will and refused repayment, so the creditors confronted her, followed her home, and things escalated from there.
The Ancient One, oblivious to Jason's internal musings, surveyed the destruction around them. "You've managed to resolve the situation. Rather impressively, I might add."
She extended her hand, and tendrils of black energy floating in the air—remnants of the Beast's power—gravitated toward her palm. With a single gesture, she annihilated them completely.
The distant sounds of chaotic shouting and inhuman roaring gradually subsided.
She glanced at the wary Jason and continued, "You needn't worry. Your fate is intertwined with this world now. I have no intention of interfering with that."
"Even though I'm not originally from this universe?"
"Destiny charts its own course. Those who try to rewrite it inevitably suffer the consequences. Once your vision extends beyond space, time, and even the multiverse itself, you'll understand—life and death, good and evil, existence and nonexistence—they're all impartial facets of reality. I require no aid, nor could I bear the burden of more."
Jason frowned in confusion. "Then why continue protecting this world?"
"Force of habit," she replied simply. "I'd like to relinquish this burden, but the responsibility I've assumed requires a successor."
Jason's eyes brightened. "Me! Choose me! Aren't I a one-in-a-million genius? I want to become the Sorcerer Supreme!"
The Ancient One's lips curved into a slight smile as she shook her head. "As I said, fate has predetermined its course. It cannot be forced."
Jason sighed in disappointment, then his eyes gleamed calculatingly. "Well, considering I did you a favor by destroying the Beast, perhaps you could offer a small token of appreciation?"
The Ancient One raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"
"How about a few scrolls from the Book of Cagliostro?"
"No."
"A copy of... the Book of Vishanti?"
"No."
Just as expected.
Jason had anticipated these rejections, which is why his first two requests weren't his actual goal.
"Fine, then I want to learn your technique for dealing with creditors!"
The Ancient One fell silent momentarily before responding, "Very well. However, you're currently too weak—failure to repay such debts would prove fatal for you. Return when you've grown sufficiently powerful, and I'll teach you... how to borrow properly."
With those words, she departed.
Jason exhaled in relief, a surge of excitement rising within him. The Ancient One's borrowing methods were legendary! Once he mastered them, he could borrow from every deity in the cosmos!
After the Ancient One's departure, Jason began searching for survivors, with Wade naturally being his first priority.
Wade wasn't difficult to locate—the arrow protruding from his knee made him rather conspicuous.
Thankfully, he was still alive. Jason channeled the last remnants of dragon chi in his body to stabilize Wade's heartbeat.
Phew, that was close. I really wouldn't have wanted to explain this to Vanessa.
Next came Blade. Despite his unconscious state, his half-vampire physiology kept him well out of danger.
Then he found Black Widow, followed by Ward and Rumlow. He would have felt genuine remorse if any of them had perished. Curiously, despite thorough searching, he couldn't locate Nick Fury anywhere.
What happened? He was definitely knocked unconscious right here. How could he have vanished?
What Jason didn't realize was that when Fury regained consciousness, he had witnessed Jason defeating the Beast. Rather than celebrating the victory, Fury had quietly crawled away from the scene.
At that very moment, he was huddled in a secluded corner, struggling to catch his breath.
The battle was finally over, but at tremendous cost.
Agent May had died in combat. Coulson had lost an arm. Clint Barton had lost an eye.
The Big Apple had suffered catastrophic losses.
The unexpected earthquake had driven most citizens outdoors, right into the path of the Beast's corrupting influence.
Everyone affected became irrationally aggressive, violently unhinged. The panic and terror caused by the earthquake had shattered their psychological defenses instantly.
"Welcome to Free America—where gunfights are a daily routine"—that phrase couldn't begin to describe the chaos that ensued.
Looting, destruction, arson, and murder swept through the streets. New Yorkers experienced firsthand what the people of war-torn regions endured: literal hell on earth.
Without intervention, the entire city would be in mourning by morning.
As Fury prepared to leave the area, he noticed a brilliant light appear on the horizon—something entering the atmosphere from space.
Hmph, another latecomer. That cosmic do-gooder who's never around when Earth needs him, always too busy protecting alien civilizations.
One hour later, on a heavily guarded luxury yacht docked at a small Staten Island pier, Vanessa, Jamse Wesley, and their associates had been waiting anxiously.
Finally, Wesley received a call. After ending it, his expression darkened. "Madam, it appears the Boss won't be joining us."
"Why not?"
"He's... gone."
"Who did it?"
"Iron Man... or Hell's Butcher."
Vanessa closed her eyes, swaying slightly.
A commotion erupted on the quarterdeck; someone had apparently received the news, triggering an argument.
"Why should we go to Los Angeles when our boss is dead? Let's return to our own territories!"
"You treacherous bastard! You'd betray him so quickly?"
"The boss is dead!"
Vanessa approached with Wesley at her side. Everyone recognized their authority and fell silent, though their expressions remained conflicted.
Vanessa addressed the bearded man who had suggested disbanding, her voice deceptively gentle. "You were all Wilson's most loyal associates. He valued each of you greatly. Why would you abandon him now?"
"If there was any chance the boss could return, I wouldn't leave. But he's gone—who will lead us now?"
"I will," Vanessa stated without hesitation.
Her answer shocked everyone present.
The bearded man chuckled dismissively. "You? On what authority?"
"This authority."
BANG!
A gunshot echoed across the deck. The bearded man stared in disbelief at the woman who had just put a bullet through his forehead, then collapsed heavily onto the polished wood.
Vanessa stood calmly, a delicate pistol gripped in her hand.
"Now, does anyone else wish to leave?"
The remaining men swallowed nervously.
Wesley, suppressing his own shock, quickly stepped forward. "Everyone, the boss had contingency plans already in place. Los Angeles is merely our first destination. I believe Madam is more than capable of restoring our former glory! Even with the boss gone, I strongly advise against defying his wishes!"
They exchanged uneasy glances but remained silent.
Under the starlit sky, the yacht cut through the waves, white foam occasionally splashing onto the deck.
On the bow, Vanessa gazed out at the vast, dark ocean ahead, still clutching the pistol.
"You promised I would never need to use this gun again. You broke your word."
She kissed the weapon before hurling it into the churning sea. "I swear, one day, I will return!"
Her vow dissipated into the night wind.
Behind her, despite having witnessed this lady's ruthlessness firsthand, Wesley frowned with concern.
He had studied Hell's Butcher's file a hundred times and understood the rate at which Jason evolved.
Could mere mortals ever truly threaten someone like him?
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