In the poor tenement neighborhood, the dim yellow light of an old round bulb cast shadows across patchy tin roofs. Inside the middle room of the row, Trang lay on her side, hugging a pillow, breathing steadily after a long, exhausting day selling milk tea and mixed rice paper from her small street cart parked by the door.

  The entire alley was eerily silent... except for the last room at the end — the residence of ?ng Nhan.

  Inside that dilapidated room, the air was thick and suffocating. From beneath the floor, streams of jet-black smoke shimmered as they flowed silently outward — almost as if sentient. Sitting on a worn wooden chair was a massive figure, unmoving. There was no trace left of the old, rugged scrap collector — ?ng Nhan had returned to his true form: the Overlord of Hell.

  His figure stood over two meters tall, unnaturally muscular, veins bulging beneath an aristocratic European-style outfit in deep tones of black and crimson. His platinum-blonde hair, gently curled, was tied neatly at the nape of his neck, gleaming silver under the flicker of a red candle. Two spiraled horns, hard as mountain stone, curved powerfully from his head. At the center of his forehead, a crown encrusted with jewels radiated a mystical five-colored light — the mark of Satan the Supreme Lord.

  His face was as beautiful as a sculpted deity, but his eyes were cold, bottomless chasms of darkness.

  In his hand was a Velkhanis Mirror, forged from the ashes of traitorous souls and the blood of an Infernal Judge. Its wooden frame was etched with ancient runes, each groove glowing a deep, blood-red hue as though freshly carved with living veins. The mirror didn’t merely reflect — it warped, trapped, and tormented souls, spawning illusions that drove its victims to madness.

  – "Now... it’s the turn of my daughter’s cousin, Anh ?ào."

  His voice resonated low and icy, like a wind from a thousand-year-old glacier. The candlelight flickered nervously.

  – "She... shall join the circle... along with My."

  A smirk curled at the corners of his lips, sinister and twisted. His eyes burned with an amber glow, like will-o’-the-wisps in a haunted bog. Instantly, the mirror in his hand lit up, projecting an image of Anh ?ào curled up in the corner of a pastel pink bedroom — a room that once mirrored her sweet personality. Surrounded by delicate, expensive dolls, her tear-streaked face was contorted in fear and despair. Now, she looked like a broken doll, lost amidst the very collection she once adored.

  The dolls, seated neatly in their glass cases, appeared to watch her. Their crystal-clear eyes — tinted with various glimmers of color — reflected the psychological breakdown of their little mistress, unraveling before them.

  Suddenly, a chorus of giggles echoed inside Anh ?ào’s head:

  "Hey everyone! Our little mistress is melting... Look! Not just her face — her whole body is starting to drip... hi hi hi..."

  Anh ?ào leapt up and screamed:

  "Who’s there? Who’s mocking me? Come out right now! How dare you laugh at me?!"

  Outside, C?u D?ng, M? Linh, and their son-in-law Anh Tú burst through the door, alarmed by the shouting. M? Linh nearly fainted, and C?u D?ng had to catch her. Her voice trembled:

  – “Dear God… my daughter… is she talking to the dolls…?”

  Anh Tú looked at his in-laws and spoke urgently:

  – “I think...we need Vú N?m to invite a spiritual master. My wife’s condition is getting worse.”

  C?u D?ng added, deeply troubled:

  – “And we must call that psychologist again — the one treating My. We have to act quickly. My daughter’s showing signs of paranoid delusion.”

  Back in ?ng Nhan’s room, laced with the aura of hell, the shifting images on the mirror surface wavered — not just showing events, but dictating them. As if her fate was no longer hers to control.

  The once-charming princess bedroom, painted in soft pinks, had morphed into a nightmare of psychological torment. The luxurious, high-end dolls displayed behind glass now all stared in unison, watching as their mistress slowly melted, bit by

  bit, beneath their sentient, gleaming eyes.

  Night fell over the luxurious villa in Th?o ?i?n. In the stillness, the ticking of the wall clock blended with the steady breathing of My — who had just been sedated. She now lay unconscious on the grand bed at the center of her elegant room.

  Beside the bed, Mrs. Lan sat silently. Her eyes were red, and her trembling hands clutched her daughter’s cold fingers. Her voice was choked and trembling, on the verge of breaking:

  – “Dear… why has our daughter ended up like this? Just days ago, she was cheerful and full of life… Now look at her... I can’t take this anymore…”

  Sitting nearby, Mr. Quy responded calmly, though the deep worry on his furrowed brow betrayed him:

  – “I’m just as heartbroken. But the doctor said it’s psychological…we need to monitor her closely. We have to trust him.”

  A soft creak broke the silence. Vú N?m, her face etched with hardship and worry, quietly peeked into the room. Her voice was barely above a whisper:

  – “Dinner’s ready, sir, ma’am. Please eat something to keep your strength up. I’ll stay and watch over the young lady.”

  Mr. Quy shook his head, his gaze never leaving his daughter’s face:

  – “No, Vú N?m… not now. I couldn’t eat even if I tried. You go ahead.”

  Mrs. Lan simply nodded, saying nothing. The room’s atmosphere thickened, heavy with sorrow, as if every trace of joy had been drained away.

  Suddenly, the phone on the table buzzed loudly. Mr. Quy flinched and quickly reached for it. The caller ID read: D?ng – Business Partner.

  – “Hello? D?ng, I’m listening.”

  From the other end, C?u D?ng’s voice was frantic and nearly screamed in panic:

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  – “I—I just got home and it happened! My daughter, Anh ?ào—she’s going through the exact same thing as My! She was screaming, crying, saying her face was melting like wax! But when my wife and I looked—her face looked perfectly normal! She’s curled up in the corner, hugging her face, sobbing like crazy!”

  Mr. Quy froze. His face went pale as if struck by lightning. He shot up from his seat, his eyes wide with disbelief and growing horror:

  – “What…what did you say?! Anh ?ào too? Her face… melting?”

  – “Yes! Just like My! And yesterday… your daughter was still laughing, having fun at my daughter’s wedding. They were both perfectly fine!”

  Mr. Quy turned toward Mrs. Lan, who was now trembling again, tears flowing freely. They locked eyes — both stunned and terrified. An invisible danger… was spreading. And two glamorous, pampered heiresses had now become its next victims…

  Anh ?ào’s screams still echoed through the phone, piercing the oppressive silence of the bedroom. Her voice — raw with fear and agony — made every vein in Mr. Quy’s body run cold.

  – “Mom! Dad! My face… it’s melting! Darling, please help me! I can feel my skin — it’s peeling off like wax… it’s dripping… it’s burning—”

  Mr. Quy stood frozen, gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white. His legs trembled, threatening to buckle beneath him. Mrs. Lan, sitting beside him, heard every word — her eyes turned glassy with shock, her body trembling uncontrollably. Neither of them could speak. A nameless terror tightened around their chests, suffocating every breath.

  Behind them, Vú N?m, who had been quietly listening, suddenly turned pale. She gasped, her voice trembling:

  – “Oh my god… it’s the Demon King Satan! I told you… the shadow I saw in the mirror last night — it was him!”

  Mrs. Lan spun around, her voice sharp with frustration:

  – “I’ve told you over and over — stop with that superstitious nonsense! This is psychological! The doctor explained it clearly!”

  Before she could continue, Mr. Quy raised a hand to stop her. His voice was tense, and his gaze serious:

  – “We can’t ignore this anymore… I thought it was just coincidence. But now… even Anh ?ào is showing the same symptoms. And it’s even worse.”

  He lowered the phone slightly, straining to hear more clearly. On the other end, Anh ?ào’s desperate screams still rang out, interspersed with M? Linh’s panicked voice crying out her daughter’s name.

  Amid the chaos, Vú N?m seemed to make a firm decision. She stepped forward with urgency, as if issuing a command:

  – “I won’t stand by any longer. I’ll call Master V?nh — the exorcist. Believe it or not, I’m certain this isn’t just an illness! There’s no way two girls — far apart, no direct contact since the wedding — would suffer the exact same terrifying hallucinations by coincidence!”

  Mr. Quy turned toward her, and for the first time that night, nodded resolutely:

  – “Fine. Call him immediately. The doctor can continue monitoring them, but if what you’re saying is true… then something dark is happening. We can’t afford to wait.”

  At that very moment, C?u D?ng, having overheard the conversation through the call, shouted through the phone in panic:

  – “Quy! Tell Vú N?m to bring that exorcist right now! I’ll pay whatever it takes! I’m begging you — just save my daughter!”

  Inside the room, the warm yellow light no longer brought comfort. Instead, it cast shadows over the strained faces, amplifying the fear in their eyes. The creeping sense of doom was no longer just a feeling — it was becoming reality.

  And somewhere, in the depths of the unknown… the mastermind behind it all was merely getting started. Whatever was coming next… would be far beyond anyone’s control.

  At that very moment, deep within a poor neighborhood tucked away in one of Saigon’s narrow alleyways, the night sky appeared darker than usual. A soft wind slipped through the cracks of decaying wooden shutters. At the far end of the boarding house, a door remained tightly shut, silence pressing against every wall like a creeping fog.

  Inside, the room was bathed in a flickering, eerie glow. Ancient magical symbols crawled across the floor like spiderwebs, casting twisted shadows on the moldy walls. At the center sat ?ng Nhan, now revealed in his true form as King Satan — lounging with effortless command upon a throne of dread carved from age-blackened wood and blood-red cloth.

  His eyes burned with deep amber light, twin voids of power glowing beneath the dark halo emitted by the Velkhanis Mirror — a forbidden relic possessed only by the royal houses of Hell.

  He reached out and gently touched the surface of the mirror. The black mist swirling within it parted like smoke, revealing the image of Mr. Quy’s home — where My lay sedated under heavy doses of tranquilizers — and C?u D?ng’s mansion, where Anh ?ào was still screaming in terror, convinced her face was melting like candle wax.

  – “Go ahead, summon your exorcist…” His voice rolled through the room like a groan from the abyss. “Let’s see what you can do to me. This game… has only just begun.”

  Suddenly, the mirror glowed. A beam of iridescent light burst from the royal crest engraved at its center. The energy pulsed and converged upon the surface of the mirror.

  ?ng Nhan pressed his hand to the intricate wood carving — a royal insignia depicting a crown nestled between two twisted horns, flames rising as if consuming the souls of the damned. His voice was calm, yet commanding:

  – “My son.”

  The mirror rippled like water, revealing a radiant face — hauntingly handsome, ethereal. A young man with sharp ice-blue eyes, silky platinum-blond hair tied half-up, a high nose bridge, and flawless porcelain skin. It was Prince Arian, the first-born son of King Satan and Queen Marzella of the Underworld.

  He bowed respectfully, his voice rich and clear, as if echoing from another realm:

  – “Father, our underground global network remains fully operational. The multi-layered magical satellites haven’t detected any alien criminal energy spikes, but it’s highly likely they’ve taken human form and are hiding somewhere on Earth. Our agents are sweeping all strategic zones. If we detect them — I will eliminate them myself.”

  King Satan nodded slowly, his voice like a blade drawn in silence:

  – “Good. The royal military base in the Bình Chánh district must be under strict 24/7 surveillance. Old enemies never rest. Send in the royal agents to rotate shifts immediately.”

  Arian responded without hesitation:

  – “As you command. My mother and the concubines are watching from the Western Palace in the shadow realm. She sends her regards to you, Father.”

  – “Relay my message to your mother and all royal bloodlines… when the time comes, Earth shall become the throne hall of the Infernal Empire.” ?ng Nhan smirked, eyes gleaming with malice. “Until then… let me enjoy this chess match — with a few tycoons, and that so-called ‘exorcist’ they’ve put their hope in.”

  Inside the worn-down boarding room at the edge of the slum, only the commanding presence of King Satan — ?ng Nhan — remained. He stood tall amidst thick plumes of black magic smoke. The ancient Velkhanis Mirror, framed in aged wood, still projected the striking face of Prince Arian, the powerful heir tasked with overseeing the royal military headquarters on Earth.

  ?ng Nhan’s voice echoed with quiet authority, low and imperial:

  – “You, the Grand Matriarch, and the royal agents will continue managing the base at Bình Chánh. Once I’ve dealt with this insolent little group… and that so-called exorcist they’ve summoned, I shall return.”

  His eyes gleamed with wicked pride as he emphasized his next words:

  – “And this time, I will bring back… a princess. Once her transformation is complete, we shall escort our new princess to the shadow realm for the coronation ceremony. That girl — Trang — shall become the Princess of the Underworld, heir to my power and status. She will be my right hand in ruling this bloodthirsty dominion.”

  He paused, lowering his voice as if speaking to his own dark heart:

  – “She is… the daughter of Satan.”

  In the mirror, Arian bowed slightly, hand placed solemnly over his chest. His ice-blue eyes shimmered with unwavering resolve.

  – “The Grand Matriarch, the agents, and I will prepare everything with utmost precision to welcome Father and the royal sister. The coronation ceremony, arranged by the Grand Matriarch herself, will shake both the shadow world… and the human world alike.”

  ?ng Nhan nodded slowly, a ghost of a smile curling his lips — the kind only a sovereign makes when their grand design is nearing fruition.

  – “Good. Everything is moving according to the path I have set...”

  He raised his hand and touched the mirror’s surface. A soft pop echoed — like the sound of a vacuum imploding — as the Velkhanis Mirror dissolved into shimmering smoke and vanished into thin air, leaving behind an eerie silence in the cramped, darkened room.

  Now his voice turned softer, almost tender, like a father whispering to a distant child…

  – “Just wait a little longer… I will be the one to change your destiny.”

  In the fading glow of the magical circle beneath his feet, the warped glass of the broken window caught a hazy reflection — the image of Trang, the girl still unaware she had been chosen for a fate far beyond her imagination.

  Everything… was only just beginning.