"It feels good to be back in hell."

  A pale, handsome young man opened his hands and spoke as if he was intoxicated.

  He took a deep breath, like a heavy smog lover, showing a satisfied look.

  His black windbreaker wafted and rippled.

  For other combatants, the barren and harsh living environment in the lower level of Hell was simply unbearable.

  In his eyes, however, it was so common that he seemed to be used to it.

  Like coming back home.

  Those horrible evil spirits that wandered around this place in hordes, full of fierce and evil aura…


  Those scorching and unpleasant Sulphur fumes could make your throat itchy.

  That chaotic magic that was full of impurities and difficult to absorb…


  It was as if there was no effect on him but rather a pleasant one.

  "Hell … I think this will be an enjoyable hunt."

  The handsome young man walked forward. Those reptilian creatures hiding in the shadows in the corners cowered trembled and seemed to be afraid.

  This uninvited guest didn't look like a weak soul who was brutally exiled and fell here.

  The opponent exuded a natural pressure, like a predator occupying a high position on the food chain.

  The familiar atmosphere made people retreat and be too afraid to provoke him.

  Son of the Lord of Hell, what was he doing here?

  After struggling with each other, the powerful evil spirits speculated.

  When they were weak, they were 'wild beasts' that had lost their minds.

  But after eating one weaker soul after another and absorbing those complicated memories, they became more cunning.

  "There is… prey ahead."

  Before the handsome young man could lament, the token he held began to heat up.

  According to the competition rules, both sides would issue warnings whenever they were close to competing participants.

  They could choose to fight.

  They could also choose to … run away.

  "No matter who he is, he's very unlucky because he met me."

  The handsome young man lifted his feet off the ground, and the corners of his black windbreaker billowed.

  Behind him, a pair of dark wings grew.

  Originally, he had pale skin that almost seemed like he had never been exposed to the sun. It was now somewhat transparent.

  His dark veins were strewn all over him, making it especially gruesome.

  Whoosh!

  Every time he flapped his wings, the handsome young man's figure flashed and appeared at a great distance.

  Before long, he found the target.

  "No vigilance at all."

  Flying in mid-air, with the help of overcast clouds as a cover, the handsome young man hid.

  He stared at the heavy figure below, somewhat speechless.

  'What's that guy doing?'

  What came into sight was a black spot.

  Looking down with his superb eyesight, the guy looked like a large steel can.

  'Did Iron Man also come to the battle?'

  'But Tony Stark wouldn't wear this kind of heavy armor, would he?'

  A series of question marks popped up from his head.

  "Stephen Strange, a master."

  It took a long time for the handsome young man to determine the identity of the other party.

  Although he knew his competitors well, he still needed to think and remember them for a long time.

  He couldn't help it. The one called Strange was too plain.

  Strange's performance in the first entry match wasn't impressive.

  It was more like relying on tricks to muddle through.

  On the contrary, Thor and Loki, the brother-sister combination beauty+macho man, gained popularity and became popular contenders.

  "How long has it been since I tasted the soul of a master from Kamar Taj?"

  A wicked brilliance flashed in the eyes of the handsome young man, like a hungry person seeing a lot of food.

  The black devil's wings shook violently and rushed down.

  Whoosh!

  The sound of the wind billowing rang out.

  A palm covered with hard scales, as if cast in black iron, clenched towards Strange's solid heavy armor.

  The handsome young man was very confident. After turning half-demon, his skin was enough to resist armor-piercing bullets, and his strength could penetrate steel.

  Bang!

  Crack!

  "Fuck!"

  The smile on the handsome young man's face didn't last long, then solidified.

  Then, it turned into a twisted and ferocious expression of severe pain.

  His muscle swelled up, and the strong arm that was covered with scales felt like it hit an indestructible iron wall.

  Bending into a startling arc, the white bones were exposed, and dark brown blood flowed out as if it were oil, sticky and burning.

  It dripped on the ground, emitting a sizzling sound and a bit of smoke.

  "What happened?"

  Strange backed up repeatedly and almost fell.

  Without even realizing the danger, he was directly hit by a deadly attack.

  "Blackheart!"

  Through the crack on his steel helmet, Strange saw the handsome young man and couldn't help but step back.

  That's right.

  The guy that attacked him.

  It was the son of the Lord of Hell, and he was also the most popular contender for the Sorcerer Supreme seat.

  Blackheart!

  "I'm too unlucky."

  Strange said with a headache.

  The most under-appreciated ignored contender met the most popular one.

  It was like an unknown soccer player going head to head with Zidane or Messi head-on.

  Except for a one-sided crushing defeat at the end, no one could imagine another possibility.

  He wondered, could Superman be trusted?

  …


  …


  "This poor guy!"

  "How interesting!"

  "The strongest meets the weakest… Do we still need to think about it?"

  "Kamar Taj's hapless master, how can someone bet on him to win all three matches? I'm afraid they would even lose their underwear!"

  "…"

  There were many discussions in the Bar With No Doors. Those who watched the live broadcast were looking forward to a cruel beating with no suspense.

  Blackheart, Prince of hell, descendants of the old devil Mephisto.

  For a guy like him, there was no mercy or weakness in his heart.

  Just like a cat playing with a mouse, to torture the enemy, play with the opponent, and finally, take their body and soul away.

  This was what the devil should do!

  In addition, Kamar Taj didn't stipulate that they couldn't kill their opponent.

  Therefore, most people believe that with the devil's bad taste, he would never let go of the opportunity to humiliate the three sanctums and anger the Sorcerer Supreme.

  Execute and kill a Masters of the Mystic Arts in front of them.

  "Mephisto would be happy to see this kind of scene!"

  "Yes!"

  "It would be even more interesting if they could draw out the old devil and the Sorcerer Supreme!"

  The guests in the Bar With No Doors were all a bunch of people who liked to eat popcorn, and they always held the idea of watching the fun and were unafraid of big events.

  They couldn't wait for Kamar Taj to fight with Hell, the more intense, the better.

  Provided, of course, that it didn't affect their own safety.

  'I'm not going to lose all my money and drown myself in the sea to pay off my debts, am I?'

  Rocket sitting at the table was a little worried.

  He stared at the live broadcast. His head was full of terrible scenes where the Grandmaster caught him and kept him as a pet in Sakaar.

  "Eh, that's not right. Where's Luke? This should be his chance to come out!"

  According to Earth's chess game, Strange was just a cheap pawn.

  In addition to increasing the number of stumbles, he wasn't much use.

  Superman was different. He was a glittering 5-cost unit chess piece, which could change the situation on the battlefield!

  …


  …


  "Tell me, aren't you a master?"

  Blackheart asked expressionlessly as he set back his own bones.

  He hadn't seen any master who would put such strong and incredibly heavy armor on themselves.

  Not only were spell circuits engraved on it, but they also added magic resistance and immunity to physical damage.

  Rebound attacks on Hell creatures also had a critical strike effect.

  "Where's your wand? Why are you carrying a shield?"

  "Where is your robe? Why wear heavy armor?"

  "…"

  Blackheart questioned with anger.

  If it were other masters, they would have already died under his surprise attack.

  Strange's body didn't match as someone who would use magic resistance equipment. He was at a loss for a moment.

  "There's no rule saying that masters can't wear armor, right?"

  Strange said in a loud voice.

  He held the shield with both hands to guard against the fierce attack that might come at any time.

  "Moreover, it has just been proven to work."

  When Strange answered, he didn't forget to ridicule.

  When it came to annoying people to death, he was on par with Tony Stark.

  "Is it?"

  Sure enough, Blackheart felt offended. The black windbreaker fluttered, and a gloomy cold atmosphere lingered around his body.

  "Master Strange, then I'll show you. You'll only get yourself killed if you stay inside that shell like a turtle!"

  …