Nero Dmc Devil Trigger Novels & Stories

STR-186 DEF-155 DEX-31 Speed-56 AGI-56 Mana-150 INT-30 [Skills- Perception(Mystic) Fire Art( Unique) Dark Vision(R) Dual Blade Mastery(Unique) Demise(Unique) Monarch's blessing(Epic) Feral Lunge(Mystic) Hunger For Blood(Unique) Recharge(Mystic)] [Necromera- Mystic rank] Name: Nero Level 33 Race: Demon Element: Fire EXP: 0/80000

Only Erdem, Konstantin, the gray-coated technician, and I entered. The doors closed and the lift descended. The numbers on the panel disappeared after the third floor below ground. The tracker vibrated. This time, the signal came from beneath us. The tracker was communicating with the security system. Erdem watched my wrist. "You've been testing the band." "Yes." "Why?" "I already told you that I dislike this thing." The lift continued downward. The gray-coated man opened his case. There were cuffs, wires, a metal bowl, several folded cloths, and a small black relay with a cracked corner.

He tried it for about two times and decided he’ll try it later when it still didn’t connect. He activated the hidden bud in his ear and the voices of Don Alessandro and Danny were heard. Before going to serve the wine, he had placed a chip recorder at the bottom of the bottle, that way he could hear their conversation. “Glad you honored my invitation.” Don Alessandro spoke up. “It’s a pleasure. I was told your invitation was worth honoring.” Danny said. He pushed the bud further into his ear when he couldn’t hear them loudly. “It is good you did your findings about me. I bet you were also told I hate when people rebel…” Don Alessandro was still talking when Danny’s voice was heard.

A final text from Derek: > “Whatever you think this is, Marcus… it’s bigger. You and Lucian — you’re connected. Somehow.” I stared at the screen. Connected? My heart pounded. Was it blood? Was it history? Or something else entirely? --- I looked up. Fire in my eyes. “I’m getting her back,” I said. “And if Lucian Devlin wants a war…” I flexed my injured hand, blood dripping to the floor. “…I’ll burn his empire to the ground.” ---

DANTE'S POV People call me the Devil of New York. They're not wrong. I've killed men for less than a dirty look. I've gutted rats who thought they could steal from me. I've fucked women who begged for mercy and made them beg for more pain instead. My empire runs on blood, loyalty, and fear. That's the only language this rotten world understands. And tonight, I reminded everyone of it. Crawford thought he could play me. Thought he could borrow money from my syndicate, promise returns, and then ghost like I'm some dumb fuck banker. No. You don't spit in my face and walk away.

“Well I've never seen beauty quite like that. The deal is yours, Diavolo. I'll even add an extra five hundred million dollars for it to become a billion dollar deal.” “Whats the catch?” “I want the girl.” My stomach flipped as I saw the devil cosplayer rise to his feet. He said something I wasn't fast enough to catch, but on closer inspection, I realized he was talking into the plug he had on. The curtain began to close. I was helped out of the glass. Before I could blink, everyone backstage had disappeared. I heard footsteps behind me and on turning, I saw the devil. “Well played.’’ He clapped. “You can’t sell me!’’ I blurted in panic.

Roman Thorne is the invincible team leader of college hockey. He is large, aggressive and a nightmare to the media. The press, however, does not know what makes the Briarwood Ice Devils so feared. They are not just players. They are ruthless, blood-swilling offspring of the most formidable crime business in the city. Trying to keep a small scandal which is about to blow up their small business, the Thorne family appeals to the service of Sloane Mercer. She is 24 years old and a brilliant ruthless PR fixer. Her task is easy: to improve the image of the team, to work with press, and not to put Roman in the prison. But Sloane has not come to save them. She is here to ruin them. Sloa

After arranging the pillows as a dummy under the covers, I turned off the lights, grabbed the keys and sneaked out of the apartment. Krystal’s car was a silver colour Mercedes Benz. As the only daughter, her parents always gave her the best of everything. But that silly girl didn’t know that her brother had modified her car into a sports car from abroad before delivering it as her present. I took a turn around the corner, driving straight to Mt. Akimbo. By the time I reached the top, few racers had already begun racing.

“Then that tramp will have the pleasure of explaining herself.” Nico leaned back in his chair, watching the fire in Nero’s gaze. The demon was back and out for blood. That same old ruthless certainty burned there. It was the look of a man who’d kill anyone or anything that tried to move his pieces off his gameboard. Nero’s gameboard. “Tonight, then,” Nico said finally. Nero nodded once. “Tonight.”

Next he sucked several puffs of air into his lungs for strength before taking his eyes up towards the lady, "Just look at her. She's dangerous and we all know it." Monica looked down at the Duke who had a small frown on, one that came from paying close attention to what Nax was saying. Something she did not find comfortable. What if he began having double thoughts about her? Just out of caution, she pulled out her gun and aimed at Nax. When she pulled the trigger, the shock was evident to everyone in the chamber, even Nax himself. And after a slight pause to show that shock, he crumpled down upon the marbled floor.