The living room in C?u D?ng’s house had barely cooled down after a furious outburst aimed at his “plum wine jar” of a daughter, when the tension flared up again with a brand-new crisis.

  Anh Tú glanced at his watch, his tone calm but firm.

  – “It’s already past ten o’clock. Mom, Dad, please head upstairs and rest. I’ll take my wife back to our room now.”

  At that moment, Dì T? came into the living room, clearing away the fruit platter. Anh Th?, still munching on a piece of sour mango dipped in shrimp paste, suddenly frowned and clutched her mouth.

  – “Dì T?, what on earth did you do? It stinks!”

  Startled, Dì T? wiped her hands on her stained apron.

  – “I just cleaned some catfish for tomorrow’s sour soup. If anyone wants something else, I can cook it right away.”

  Anh Th?’s face twisted further, a wave of nausea rising in her throat. M? Linh’s eyes widened with sudden realization — she shot up from her seat, her voice trembling yet urgent.

  – “Th?! Are you… are you pregnant? Tell me the truth — are you?!”

  Anh Th? frozen, wide-eyed.

  – “I… I’m not sure… lately I’ve been feeling… queasy all the time.”

  C?u D?ng’s eyes bulged. He clutched his chest, voice shaking with outrage.

  – “Heavens above! If it’s true, you’ve really done it this time! You’ve smeared shame all over my face!”

  Anh Th? stood there, petrified, panic flashing in her eyes.

  Dì T? sighed and turned to M? Linh.

  – “Better take her to the hospital tomorrow morning, ma’am. Then we’ll know for sure.”

  C?u D?ng pointed a trembling finger at his daughter, words stumbling from his lips.

  – “You… you…”

  Before he could finish, he staggered and collapsed back onto the sofa.

  Anh Tú rushed forward to catch his father-in-law.

  – “Dad! Dad! Quick—call the doctor!”

  ---

  Meanwhile, at the Bình Chánh headquarters, the mood couldn’t have been more different.

  A long banquet table gleamed under warm light, piled high with delicacies — crispy-fried sea bass, seafood spring rolls, snakehead fish hotpot, grilled shellfish of every kind, soft drinks, fruit juices, fine red wine, and non-alcoholic beer in every flavor.

  At the center sat Demon King Satan, exuding both majesty and mirth. He raised his glass of red wine high.

  – “Eat, drink, and enjoy yourselves. When midnight strikes, the real feast will begin!”

  All masters, imps, and covert agents rose together, lifting their glasses in unison.

  A roaring cheer shook the hall:

  – “Long live Lord Satan!”

  The atmosphere swelled with such boisterous energy that it felt as though the very ground trembled beneath the laughter and the ringing of clinking glasses, echoing deep into the night.

  In C?u D?ng’s private room, Dr. Tùng had just finished his examination. He pulled a small packet of medicine from his bag and spoke carefully:

  – “Mr. D?ng’s blood pressure spiked due to excessive anger. I’ve already given him medication to stabilize it. When he wakes up, give him another pill from this packet. And remember — don’t let him get upset or overly emotional again.”

  Dì T? quickly chimed in:

  – “Doctor, could you also check on Miss Th?? She’s been pale and vomiting for days.”

  Dr. Tùng turned to Anh Th?, his face serious.

  – “Miss Th?, tell me exactly what symptoms you’ve had.”

  Dì T? and M? Linh took turns explaining her nausea and fatigue. After a quick examination and a few key questions, Dr. Tùng gave his conclusion:

  – “Based on the symptoms and her physical changes, I’m certain she’s pregnant—about eight weeks along. Tomorrow morning, you should take her to the hospital for a proper obstetric check-up.”

  M? Linh’s eyes widened, her voice breaking, and Dì T? had to steady her.

  – “You… you’ve brought nothing but disgrace to your parents!”

  Anh ?ào shot her younger sister a sharp glare.

  – “Isn’t that the same guy you borrowed money from the loan sharks to gamble with?”

  Anh Tú slammed his hand on the table, voice cold and hard.

  – “We’re going to drag that bastard out and make him take responsibility.”

  ---

  Meanwhile, in the luxurious bedroom of the Th?o ?i?n mansion, My stood before a mirror in a red silk nightgown, admiring her reflection. Her face glowed with youthful beauty, the kind that turned heads everywhere.

  In her mind, the image of Trúc Di?n appeared—handsome, mysterious, wealthy. His refined, scholarly air and cool, magnetic charm were exactly what she’d always dreamed of.

  Her gaze shifted to a framed portrait of herself with Tu?n on the vanity. A vague sense of boredom stirred in her chest.

  – “Our wedding is coming soon. Tu?n is stylish and rich… but Trúc Di?n is more than that. Those calm, jade-like eyes… that aura of someone standing at the very top…”

  She sighed, adjusted her nightgown strap, and climbed into bed. The photo of her and Tu?n still sat on the vanity — but her thoughts kept circling around the image of another man.

  ---

  In his Th? ??c penthouse, Tu?n had just finished showering. Wearing a loose robe and holding a glass of whisky, he stepped out onto the balcony. The city of Saigon stretched before him, glittering under the night sky.

  But in his mind, it wasn’t My he was thinking about — it was the girl from the coffee shop earlier that evening.

  A beauty untouched by artifice — no heavy makeup, no flashy dresses, no traces of plastic surgery. Just pure, unspoiled grace, like a pink lotus in bloom. A pair of gentle eyes that made his heart tremble.

  – “My’s always caked in makeup, drowning in perfume, flaunting dresses that leave nothing to the imagination… and every word she says feels staged. I’m sick of it. But that girl… if only I could see her again…”

  He took a slow sip of whisky, eyes drifting toward the distant city lights, where the night rolled lazily over Saigon.

  The full moon had risen high, its cold silver light spilling over the shadowy, dense forest, where an illusory barrier cloaked the Bình Chánh headquarters from mortal eyes. Yet, within that magical veil, the grand banquet had already begun.

  Upon a throne of thousand-year-old crimson ironwood, carved with symmetrical dragon-and-phoenix motifs in an Eastern Baroque style, sat the Demon King Satan—calm yet majestic, as if an emperor of the darkness itself.

  He wore a charcoal-gray tailored T–Ford suit, crafted in the precise Anglo–Italian cut from handwoven Italian wool cashmere, accentuating his tall frame and broad shoulders. A deep purple-black satin tie from T–Asser, as soft as midnight mist, draped elegantly down his chest.

  Polished black Oxford shoes by J–Lobb, painstakingly hand-stitched, completed the ensemble, exuding the cold authority of a dark sovereign.

  His platinum hair, slightly wavy, was tied low with a black leather cord made from Rh?ne calfskin, radiating an eerie noble elegance. His amber-gold eyes, as deep as an endless abyss, gleamed with a piercing light — like eternal despair for the souls already condemned.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Upon his head curved a pair of jet-black spiral horns, shimmering faintly with silver moonstone-like inlays, rising as though to tear the heavens apart. Between them rested a five-element crown, forged by ancient sorcerers from elemental crystals, glowing with a cold aura:

  Ruby red – Fire,

  Diamond clear – Metal,

  Citrine amber-brown – Earth,

  Aquamarine deep blue – Water,

  Emerald forest green – Wood.

  To his left stood Crown Prince Arian — tall, striking, born with an innate frost in his gaze. His flawless porcelain-white skin and ice-blue eyes radiated both intelligence and authority. He wore a navy T–Ford suit in the royal cut, fitting his form to perfection. A silver satin cravat from Her shimmered at his collar, paired with the Satan royal crest on his chest—symbol of pure royal blood.

  His straight, platinum hair flowed like winter moonlight down his back. Atop his head spiraled a pair of crystalline black horns, glimmering like cursed ice. Between them sat a platinum crown by C–H–Joaillerie, encrusted with glowing Kashmir sapphires, as if trapping all the northern lights within its stones. His navy–violet patina Ber shoes matched seamlessly with his suit, heightening his icy, noble aura.

  Beside him, H?ng Nhung — the fairy maiden, both pure and alluring — wore a blush-pink bodycon gown by G–Valli Haute Couture, its sheer metallic mesh embroidered with 3D floral appliqués, hand-sewn with meticulous care. Her bare back revealed a pair of giant butterfly wings glowing softly, fairy dust shimmering with each gentle breath. Her chestnut hair, softly curled to her waist, was crowned with a delicate cherry blossom wreath from D–Jardin Secret’s limited collection. On her feet sparkled pink crystal-bow heels from Mach & Mach, glittering like tiny stars at a fairy’s toes.

  To Satan’s right stood Trang — mysterious, bewitching, the very embodiment of a dark queen. She wore a black patent leather bodycon gown from B–Haute Couture, high-necked and slit dangerously up to the thigh, revealing long, toned legs. Her over-the-knee serpent-skin boots from AQueen D–Serpent, with dagger-sharp heels, struck the floor with a lethal, imperious grace.

  Her hair, black and sleek as a river of darkness, cascaded down her back. Her eyes were unlike any other—symbols of her power:

  Her left eye—a swirling spatial vortex like a cosmic black hole, stars orbiting slowly within its spiral, as if the heavens themselves were being drawn inward.

  Her right eye—a Roman-numeral clock face, its gears turning backward in silver light, as though bending time itself, heartbeat by heartbeat.

  Above her head curved downward a pair of reaper’s scythe-like horns — symbols of annihilation. Between them sat a black-gold gothic crown by C–Nocturne, encrusted with black diamonds and violet spinel, its ghostly glow the dark halo of a queen risen from Hell.

  Next to her stood Erion, revealed now in his true form. His skin was obsidian black, his frame clad in a thin black cashmere sweater by R–Owens and tailored trousers by A–Demeulemeester, showing a chiseled build like an ancient Egyptian statue. Draped over his shoulder was a smoky-gray AQueen trench coat, like a shroud of destruction. His ruby eyes burned like the embers of Hell, his massive spiral horns radiating dark shimmering energy. At his brow gleamed a black diamond crown, custom-forged by B–Shadow Series, absorbing light like a cosmic singularity, devouring every gaze.

  Next was Din, in an espresso-brown Bri suit of Italian wool cashmere, hand-tailored to fit. His lapels were embroidered with gold thread by M–Lesage, the royal atelier of France. His golden-brown hair was slicked back with Ori styling cream, his sharp-jawed face framed by a neatly trimmed beard. His deep ocean-blue eyes held the dormant radiance of an ancient vampire. When he smiled faintly, his snow-white fangs gleamed, sending chills down spines.

  Beside him, Yin wore an olive-green B–Cucinelli suit, a Hetian jade dragon-carved ring on his thumb, and a T? Nham jade prayer bead strand in his right hand. His thick salt-and-pepper hair was swept back, revealing an intellectual high brow. His pallid skin, cold silver eyes, and thin lips gave him the look of an eternal stone statue. His long silver fangs glimmered, thirsting for the blood in the air like a blade longing for prey.

  Finally came Trúc Di?n, restored to his true form—the mighty Serpent King. From his neck to his chest, iridescent white scales shimmered beneath a long silk cloak by G–Pei, its brocade and glittering threads mimicking the fluid motion of serpent skin.

  His emerald-green eyes, slit-pupiled, glowed hypnotically against his pale, cold complexion. His black hair, half-up in a jade Boucheron hairpin carved into entwining serpents set with emeralds, bore a pure-gold crown by Chau, crafted for the royal lineage of the Serpent Clan.

  At his waist was a classic jadeite belt from V–Cleef & Arpels, its buckle a coiled serpent around an imperial jade gem, each detail hand-carved by the ancient royal artisans. His attire blended ancient Chinese imperial style with modern haute couture — an untouchable king of serpents, regal and lethally alluring.

  Below the central dais stood the ancient sorcerer Master V?nh, in a traditional Vietnamese áo dài the and kh?n ?óng, holding a bamboo fan and wearing wooden clogs. At his side was the Elder Grand Tutor—a primordial demoness—dressed in a high-grade black g?m silk áo dài by T–Tuan, her ash-silver hair coiled high and pinned with a chrysanthemum-engraved silver hairpin. Her eyes were deep, knowing, and ready for the opening ritual of punishment.

  Tendrils of black energy spread across the ground like a spider’s web. The illusionary wall began to glow—the sign that D?ng’s family was about to be summoned through the gateway of fate.

  Within the supreme chamber of power, Demon King Satan raised the black skull-topped scepter high, his other hand holding the Velkhanis Mirror. His deep, gravelly voice rolled out like thunder:

  – “Let the feast begin.”

  Erion rose to his feet, his gaze sharp and cold. With a flick of his wrist, he drew a floating space circle into the air, its swirling magic glowing in flickers of black and violet. His voice was calm yet deliberate:

  – “A space circle isn’t just for physical transport… it can send magic anywhere we desire.”

  Din crossed his arms, curling his lips into a half-smile:

  – “The little imps, in the form of bat-faced demons, are already there — recording every detail… every breath will be captured.”

  Yin and Arian simultaneously tapped away at two encrypted laptops, the light from their screens flashing across their faces:

  – “Combined with satellite tracking, we’ll capture all the evidence… and release it across the net whenever needed. No one will be able to deny the truth.”

  Crown Prince Arian nodded:

  – “We need thorough preparation. Those people are greedy and cruel, yet cling to life in fear of death. They’ll either deny everything or shove the blame onto each other.”

  Trúc Di?n spoke evenly, his eyes fixed on the Tranquil Moon Mirror (T?nh Nguy?t B?ch Kính) that now displayed a crystal-clear image of My’s room. He smirked:

  – “Is My daydreaming about me? She already has a fiancé, yet her thoughts wander elsewhere.”

  Erion’s grip on the Black Crystal Mirror tightened, a crimson blaze flaring in his eyes:

  – “Tu?n is no different. He’s lusting after my princess.”

  The entire hall fell silent. All eyes turned toward Erion. Trang smiled faintly, while Demon King Satan gave him a slow, deliberate glance, his amber eyes deep as an abyss:

  – “Is that so…? When you learn some manners and proper respect toward me, I might consider you for the position of son-in-law.”

  Erion’s brow furrowed, his tone sharp:

  – “She and I are twin diamonds forged by the universe itself. Only I am worthy. That snake… doesn’t qualify.”

  Trúc Di?n narrowed his eyes, a glint of green flashing like a blade:

  – “Not necessarily. With a personality like yours… you’d only make a woman suffer.”

  Erion shot up from his seat:

  – “What?! You dare.”

  – “Enough!” the Grand Dowager barked. “Focus on the task at hand. The rest… can wait.”

  ---

  At the District 2 villa, the once crystal-clear full moon now blazed blood-red. The night grew thick and oppressive, rolling mists swallowing the starry sky. A cold wind swept through, biting to the bone.

  On the balcony outside D?ng’s room, bat-faced imps hung upside down in eerie silence, their eyes glowing in the dark as they recorded every movement inside the villa.

  A few sleepless neighbors stepped onto their own balconies, their faces marked with worry.

  Mr. Tài, who lived across the street, squinted toward D?ng’s balcony:

  – “Bats…? There are no bats in a luxury estate like this.”

  His wife stood behind him, tilting her head toward the sky, her voice uneasy:

  – “Strange… it was normal this afternoon. Just earlier, the moon was clear, the sky full of stars. Now it’s dark and heavy, like a storm is coming — and those strange creatures appeared…”

  Mr. Tài shivered slightly:

  – “I suddenly feel a chill… Let’s go inside.”

  None of them knew… tonight’s grand feast would serve dishes flavored with retribution, and its cheerful sounds would be the midnight screams of terror. And D?ng’s family… were the honored guests invited from the mortal world to a banquet of the shadows.

  In the vast bedroom, the soft golden glow of the bedside lamp fell upon the high-grade satin bedding, embroidered with intricate hand-stitched flowers. C?u D?ng and M? Linh were fast asleep on a luxurious red-oak bed. Everything was silent — only the gentle hum of the air conditioner remained.

  Suddenly…

  A voice rang out — low, cold, and hollow, as if echoing from the depths of a grave:

  – “Brother… Why did you ruin my family…? Why do you want to kill my husband… and my child…?”

  C?u D?ng jolted upright like a spring, drenched in sweat. His breathing was ragged, his eyes unfocused. The space around him began to blur, then thicken into an oppressive darkness. Black smoke swirled and surged across the floor like stormy waves crashing against a shore.

  He slowly raised his eyes.

  Standing amidst the smoke was H?nh—his younger sister who had died unjustly twenty-five years ago. She wore a once-white áo dài, now stained with mud. Her long black hair hung in a tangled mess, covering most of her face. The left half of her face was crushed, her flesh bruised black, her left eye socket sunken and oozing blood.

  C?u D?ng frozen.

  He couldn’t move.

  The air was being squeezed from his lungs, as if some invisible force was tightening its grip around his throat.

  – “H?nh… forgive me…” he stammered. “Back then… I was blinded by greed… I’ll make it up to your daughter… I swear…”

  H?nh laughed — an eerie, bone-chilling sound, like wind howling over cold tombstones.

  – “Make it up? My husband’s and my wealth—you and your wife took it all. You threw my daughter out, left her to live alone, shunned by the rich, despised and scorned, living in poverty. Is that your idea of making it up?”

  C?u D?ng groaned:

  – “I raised her for twenty years… I never abandoned her…”

  H?nh stepped forward. Each of her footsteps made the wooden floorboards creak with a mournful sound. She gave a cold, pitying smile:

  – “Raised her? She wasn’t even allowed to sit at the dining table as a family. She had to eat with the servants — like a maid in her own home. Did you think my husband and I didn’t know? We knew everything.”

  – “And you… you framed her for stealing a diamond ring, just to have the perfect excuse to throw her out. You were afraid, weren’t you? Afraid that if she learned the truth, the entire inheritance would return to her?”

  – “Your family… will pay the price.”

  She lunged forward, her pale, blood-stained hands reaching out—nails packed with mud—clamping hard around Uncle D?ng’s throat.

  “PAY!”

  C?u D?ng screamed, his face turning a deep red, eyes bulging. He struggled in vain against the icy, iron-like grip tightening around his neck.

  – “Honey! Wake up!” M? Linh shouted, shaking her husband violently. She saw, to her horror, that he was strangling himself. “What are you doing?!”

  She frantically pulled his hands away.

  Finally, C?u D?ng’s eyes snapped open. His breath came in harsh, desperate gasps, his chest heaving as though his very soul had been drained.

  – “It was just a dream… I… I’m still alive… she couldn’t kill me…”

  M? Linh stared at him:

  – “Who? Who’s trying to kill you?”

  Sweat poured down his face, his limbs trembling uncontrollably:

  – “H?nh… she… she wants me dead…”

  At that moment, an icy gust swept across the back of M? Linh’s neck. She shivered violently, goosebumps prickling her skin.

  It was as if a cold, unseen hand had stroked her spine… and a faint breath brushed against her ear. But when she turned — no one was there.

  The room felt full of unseen eyes watching from somewhere far yet near… as if they were standing just beyond the balcony. Outside, grotesque bat-like creatures hung upside down, their glowing eyes fixed on the two trembling sinners inside.