My Wives are Beautiful Demons-Chapter 330: Treatment of Prisoners.

Seriously, the Demon King. One of the Great Five. Lord of legions, destroyer of infernal plans, terror of the heavens and the abysses...

He was wearing an orange jumpsuit.

And rubber sandals.

Vergil looked through the thick glass, reinforced with demonic runes of arcane containment, the same ones used to seal entities that tried to devour time.

On the other side of the guest cabin, his mother held the phone with the exhausted expression of someone who had already given up on understanding her own son. He picked up the receiver and said,

"Seriously, man? Are you really going to keep me locked up?"

Sepphirothy raised an eyebrow. "Procedures, if we don't show that even a Demon King can be controlled, what do you think will happen? Besides, it's not that bad."

Vergil opened his mouth, pointed his finger, hesitated… and then just said, "Okay, how long will it be until I'm taken out?"

'…' She sighed, massaging her temple.

From the back of the room, one of the guards muttered, "Demon King or not, a prisoner is a prisoner."

Vergil rolled his eyes. "If I survive this, I'll erase the word 'standard procedure' from Hell."

Sepphirothy just shook her head. "Keep quiet. We're already working on a… narrative."

"Like 'he's going through a rough time' or 'he was possessed by an enemy, but he's fine now,' right?"

"No. Something more convincing. Like: "temporarily unhinged by a spontaneous fusion of hostile souls on an unregulated plane'."

Vergil stared at the glass. "That's worse than saying I'm crazy."

"And it looks better in the reports." Silence.

Then he muttered, tugging on the magical restraint collar with two fingers, "At least it unlocks my power... This collar is making me itch. I swear if I sneeze hard, it'll burst."

Sepphirothy rolled her eyes and replied with a tired sigh, "Oh, relax. Take advantage of the fact that you're still lucid and not blowing up walls. Consider it a chaos detox, you know? A break for your brain."

"Chaos detox?" Vergil grumbled. "I'm wearing Crocs from hell. This is psychological torture, Mom."

She ignored the comment and continued:

"You should be released tomorrow morning. Just behave, okay? After all, you still have to go to Walpurgis."

Vergil frowned. "Walpurgis? Is that the name of a throat medicine?"

Sepphirothy was silent for a second, considering patience an extinct art. "No, genius. It's like the 'Meeting of Supernaturals,' but in hell. Only more pompous. And with more wine."

Vergil still had the look on his face of someone who had heard a complex equation.

She took a deep breath and simplified, "It's a banquet. A formal event between the Demon Kings and the Noble Houses of the 50 Clans. Amon wants to use this to calm things down. And yes, you'll have to go."

"So... a fancy dinner with people who want to stab me in the back?" Vergil summarized with a wry smile.

"Exactly. But with silverware."

The phone was still hanging from Vergil's hand when a red light turned on in the upper corner of the room, accompanied by a dry, metallic sound.

"The visit is over," the guard behind him said, his voice firm. The black uniform of the arcane security guard contrasted with the magical markings that glowed softly on the floor—runes that delimited the safe zone between the prisoner and the rest of the world.

Vergil remained silent for a moment. His gaze still locked with his mother's, separated only by thick, cold, unbreakable glass. She said nothing, but her eyes spoke volumes. Exhaustion, worry, and deep down... guilt. Vergil simply nodded, slowly replacing the phone on its cradle.

The guard led him to the door, the runic handcuffs sealing his wrists with a dull blue light. As he walked down the armored corridor, the echo of his footsteps filled the absolute silence—until he crossed the main wing of the prison.

And then came the voices.

Low, creeping, but venomous.

"Look... the King is now the system's mascot."

"That shitty king... he didn't even control his own body."

"Pathetic. He should have died with dignity, not on a leash."

Vergil walked in silence. His eyes fixed straight ahead, his words cutting like invisible knives. He didn't need to look to feel the gazes weighing on him. Many there feared him. Others hated him. And some... were just waiting for him to fall.

The guard next to him swallowed hard, perhaps sensing the rising tension in the air, the kind of energy that precedes a storm.

But Vergil didn't react.

He didn't retort, didn't threaten. He didn't smile.

He simply walked to his containment cell, passed through the layers of magical seals, and sat in the center of the small chamber of obsidian-black stone. The sound of the locks closing echoed like a judge's gavel.

Inside, finally alone, he took a deep breath.

The collar still itched. But the anger... no. It wasn't anger that was growing inside him.

It was silent.

Cold, calculated.

"Itharine." Vergil said smilingly, "Kill them all during the night; take the big dog with you too." He said, laughing.

"Yes, my liege." From the shadows, the Shadow Dragon spoke, with a slight smile.

...

[Agares Mansion]

The television was at full volume, playing the frenetic soundtrack of an anime where a bald man in yellow threw a punch so absurd that it destroyed monsters the size of buildings. The light from the TV blinked on Sapphire's bored face, who was eating something crunchy straight from the package.

Across the room, Katharina paced back and forth, her footsteps echoing nervously across the marble floor. She gesticulated too much, her high-pitched voice cutting through the air like a saw.

"I'm going to break into that prison, blow up the walls, tear down those ridiculous towers, and get Vergil out of there! He can't stay locked up! He'll freak out! He'll break everything! W-what if he has a breakdown? What if he forgets who he is? What if he turns into a mystical potato?!"

Roxanne and Ada were sitting on the opposite couch. Roxanne was calmly drinking tea, watching the scene as if she were watching a storm forming over the ocean. Ada, on the other hand, was just fiddling with her cell phone, chuckling here and there.

"I think if he turned into a potato, he'd be the sweet kind… you know, kind of dark on the outside, but soft on the inside." Ada muttered without taking her eyes off the screen. "You're too desperate."

"It doesn't help!" Katharina shouted.

"He's fine, Katharina," Roxanne said calmly, taking another sip of her tea. "It's Vergil. Trust our husband more; what a waste of despair. Be more rational."

"BUT WHAT ABOUT THE COLLAR?! THE COLLAR, ROXANNE!" she was almost crying now. "That thing suppresses his power! And he HATES suppressing his power! He'll rip it out with his teeth if he has to!"

From the couch, Sapphire remained impassive. A monster was obliterated with a punch on the TV screen. The noise almost drowned out her daughter's scream.

"Mom, say something!" Katharina begged, now facing her. "You're his wife too! A queen! You need to go in there and do something! Kick down that door! Yell at the guards! Threaten the archons! Invo—"

Sapphire threw the bag of chips on the floor, her eyes wide, her aura turning purple around her body.

"SHUT. UP. CREATURE." She roared with an ancient, demonic fury that made the windows shake.

Silence.

The TV automatically lowered the volume. Katharina froze in place as if she had been petrified.

Sapphire then sank back into the couch, picked up the remote, pressed play on the episode, and muttered disdainfully:

"If you think he can't handle this, then you don't know your husband. He'll get out of there, show up at Walpurgis, and if anyone dares to look at him the wrong way… he'll leave without eyes. That's the kind of man he is. Stop falling for your weird yandere stuff."

Roxanne crossed her legs, satisfied.

Ada raised an eyebrow. "It's true, too."

Katharina took a deep breath… and sat on the floor, surrendered. "Okay… but what if he freaks out anyway?"

Sapphire raised an eyebrow, reaching for more snacks. "Go to sleep and stop bothering him; he'll be fine. He's not a child." Sapphire spoke.

"Want some?" She offered the snack...

Katharina looked at the package of snacks as if it were a cheap attempt at consolation in the face of the impending apocalypse. Still staring blankly, she took one with trembling fingers.

"Thank you…" she murmured, chewing slowly as if she were processing the entire universe in that act.

"See?" Sapphire said between bites, her voice calmer now. — "Crunchiness cures anxiety."

"Is there a study on that?" Ada asked with a cynical smile.

"No, but I'm a mother. That automatically gives me a degree in psychology and emotional torture." Sapphire replied, putting another snack in her mouth.

Roxanne tilted her head and added, calm as ever:

"And even if he freaks out… well, that's a problem for another dimension. Literally."

The mood in the room softened, although the anxiety still hung in the air like invisible smoke. Katharina leaned her head back on the couch and sighed deeply.

"I just… worry, you know?"

Sapphire shrugged. "Worry is healthy. Hysteria is not. If he breaks everything… we'll clean it up later."

As soon as Sapphire finished her sentence firmly, the sound of soft footsteps cut through the room. Morgana appeared at the door, accompanied by Alice, who calmly held her hand, her eyes curious as always.

"Hm? Where is everyone?" Morgana asked, her expression calm, although slightly apprehensive.

Her attire, more sober than usual, made it clear that she was there for work — or something more serious. Now that she had official authorization from four Demon Queens, she could move freely through the Underworld. But still… she wasn't there by chance.

Sapphire didn't even turn around; she just answered lazily and precisely:

"Vergil is in jail. Stella and Raphaeline are in their mansions. Viviane went to the human world with Iridia, Zex, and Novah. And Viola... is busy working on a project for me."

She finally turned her eyes towards the witch.

"So, Morgana... what do you want?"

Morgana hesitated for a second. Alice looked at her sideways, as if giving her silent strength. Then she took a deep breath.

"The Witch Queen... asked to speak with Vergil."

Silence. Dense. Cutting.

Sapphire slowly turned to face Morgana for real, her eyebrows raised, her eyes half-closed. She blinked once, as if she was sure she had heard wrong.

"...What?" The word came out low and cold, like thunder before a storm.

"W-well... it's her fault." Morgana said, pointing her finger at Alice.