I Am the Devil of This Hell

Chapter 026

I am the soaring Blood Eagle. I am the Blood Beast breaking free from its cage. I am the King, launching myself into the sky.

In this suffocating darkness, in this game of death, I will let out a low, guttural roar. I will tear apart the flesh of my enemies, letting the sound of my fury echo and the blood of my foes flutter like crimson flags. I will make this endless night sky tremble, and make every ignorant soul shiver in terror!

— Volume Prologue

Ten Days Later. 9:00 AM.

The morning air was biting, carrying the distinct chill of the northern wilderness. South of the Confinement Death Ward—that hidden fortress of despair buried deep in the mountains—a rugged, winding highway stretched out like a gray scar against the forest.

Two figures stood by the roadside, their silhouettes sharp against the pale morning sun. They wore casual civilian clothes, a stark contrast to the prison grays they had lived in, yet they stood with a posture that no civilian could mimic.

One was tall and lean, possessing the clean-cut, unassuming features of a college student. Yet, his eyes betrayed him. They were sharp, predatory, constantly scanning the horizon like an eagle searching for movement in the grass. This was Kane Adler.

The other man was a mountain of muscle, broad-shouldered and imposing. His face radiated a wild, arrogant intensity, and his eyes were tinged with a faint, permanent redness, like a tiger teetering on the brink of bloodlust. This was Rex Dalton, known to the underworld as the Mad Tiger.

However, for the purpose of this operation, their identities had been scrubbed and rewritten by Frank Sterling of the FBI.

Kane Adler remained Kane, but Rex Dalton—formerly known in the files as Yang Haoyu—had been issued new papers. He was now officially Caleb Rourke.

Their physical appearances hadn't undergone drastic surgery, but subtle modifications had been made. A change in hairstyle, a shift in gait, a different way of holding themselves. To a casual observer, they might look seven parts like their old selves, but a closer inspection would reveal that the men who entered the prison were not the same men standing here today.

Kane's handsome features now carried a faint, unsettling aura of wickedness, a shadow that danced behind his smile. Caleb Rourke (Rex), meanwhile, had tempered his wild, explosive energy with a newfound, terrifying gravitas—he was no longer just a beast; he was a beast that had learned to wait.

For the past ten days, they had been recuperating in the prison's medical wing. They hadn't just healed their bodies to peak condition; they had spent every waking hour mentally mapping out their entry into the underworld. They were two predators sharpening their claws before the hunt.

Since this was their first true foray into organized crime on this scale, their plans were merely a skeleton—a rough strategic outline. The flesh and blood of the plan would be added only after they truly understood the beast they were trying to tame.

Everything depended on the reality of the streets.

They had been transported here in an armored truck at 8:00 AM. Now, they had been waiting for over ten minutes.

They were waiting for their army.

The silence of the wilderness was heavy, broken only by the wind rustling the pine trees. Then, a low rumble vibrated through the asphalt soles of their shoes.

In the distance, two large prison transport buses appeared, escorted by a convoy of four military Humvees. The vehicles moved slowly, kicking up a trail of dust that hung in the cold air.

The convoy ground to a halt in front of them. The door of the lead Humvee swung open, and a senior officer in a crisp uniform stepped out. It was Robert H. Caldwell, the Correctional Captain of the East Wing.

"Haha! Kane, Caleb! Congratulations on officially leaving the hellhole."

Caldwell marched over, his boots crunching on the gravel, and shook Kane's hand with genuine enthusiasm.

"Captain Caldwell," Kane replied, his grip firm. "It’s trouble for you to come all this way personally to see us off."

"Haha, Brother Kane, you’re too polite! This mission you’re embarking on... it’s special. It's historic. Once you succeed, your future will be limitless. Our little gladiator arena has finally produced a real talent! Hahaha."

Kane looked at Caldwell with a deep, knowing smile. He understood the transaction taking place. "Captain Caldwell, thank you for looking after us these past days. I, Kane, am not an ungrateful man. I never forget a favor. If you ever need anything in the future, I will not hesitate to help."

Caldwell's eyes lit up. This was exactly what he wanted to hear. A favor from a man like Kane—a man backed by the FBI and destined to rule the underworld—was a valuable asset.

"Good! That promise is worth its weight in gold," Caldwell said, squeezing Kane's hand tighter. Then, his expression softened into genuine envy. "Sigh... you’re lucky, Brother Kane. You get to leave these mountains. You get to see the world. Look at me. I’m stuck here in the middle of nowhere. I only get a few days a month to go home and see the family. It's a lonely life."

Kane nodded, understanding the subtext. "Captain, if the opportunity arises in the future, I will put in a good word for you. Perhaps a transfer to a city precinct? Or something... more comfortable?"

"Oh? Hahaha! Then I’ll thank you in advance, Brother! Come, come. Take a look. Here are the other seventy-nine men you handpicked. Your praetorian guard."

At Caldwell's signal, the corrections officers promptly unlocked the rear doors of the two buses.

Clank. Clank.

The sound of metal hitting metal rang out as shackles were undone. One by one, the prisoners stepped off the bus. They stretched their limbs, inhaling the free air greedily.

Once the chains were removed from Marcus Grady and the others, Caldwell turned back to Kane.

"Your time is tight, Brother Kane, so I won't hold you up any longer. The clock is ticking on your mission. We... will meet again."

Kane nodded solemnly. "Until we meet again."

Caldwell saluted, returned to his vehicle, and the military convoy turned around, disappearing back toward the prison. The rumble of their engines faded, leaving Kane alone with his army.

He turned his gaze to the men standing before him.

The former death row inmates naturally divided themselves into two distinct groups.

The first group consisted of the veterans: Ethan Skyler (Yellow Springs), Jackson Hayes, and the others who had been part of the first batch. They stood with a relaxed but alert confidence.

The second group was a solid block of forty-eight inmates, led by a young man with a visage so terrifying it commanded instant silence.

This young man was tall and slender. Like Dixon Jace, he radiated a chilling aura from the inside out. But where Elias was gloomy and calculating, this man was eerie—sinister and feminine in a way that made the skin crawl.

The right side of his face was... beautiful. Handsome, delicate, almost angelic. But the left side was a nightmare carved in flesh.

Four deep, jagged scars crisscrossed his face, destroying his features. One scar ran vertically from his brow, slicing down through his cheek to his chin. Another curved from the corner of his left eye to his ear. Between them, two smaller scars formed a gruesome cross. There wasn't a single patch of intact skin on the left side of his face. It was a ruin.

Beneath this terrifying exterior lay an aura as cold and venomous as a viper. The air around him seemed to freeze, heavy with the scent of danger.

Rex (Caleb Rourke) curled his lip, his eyes narrowing. He recognized the aura of a fellow monster.

"Silas Rivers... The Venomous Scorpion with the Ruined Face."

Silas Rivers glanced at Rex with cool indifference, then turned to Kane. He dropped to one knee on the asphalt, bowing his head.

"Silas Rivers. From this moment on, I swear to follow Kane!"

Behind him, the forty-eight death row inmates—some who had met Kane before in the prison yard, some who only knew him by reputation—didn't hesitate. Not a single spark of rebellion existed among them. They dropped to one knee in unison, a wave of submission crashing down.

"We swear to follow Kane to the death!"

Their voices thundered against the mountain silence, startling birds from the trees.

They were death row inmates. To society, they were the scum of the earth, unforgivable monsters, failures of humanity. But after enduring the purgatory of the Confinement Death Ward, they understood the value of freedom more than any civilian ever could. And they understood the value of loyalty.

They knew how to repay a debt. Even if the price was their life.

There was no noble philosophy here. It was for that one simple, heavy word: Freedom.

Moreover, whether they had seen it with their own eyes or heard the legends whispered in the dark, they all knew one truth: the handsome, wicked young man standing before them possessed a strength that was nothing short of terrifying. Following him wasn't just gratitude; it was survival.

Kane smiled, a look of dark satisfaction crossing his face.

"Welcome to the Shadow Eagle Clan."

He walked among them, his voice projecting clearly.

"Because of our special status, we have no family left in this world. The state has erased us. From today on, we eighty-one men are brothers. Life and death, together. Never to betray each other.

"We were once looked down upon. Spat on. Treated like refuse. But now, we have a chance to be reborn. As long as we survive this game of death... as long as we keep moving forward... even the high-ranking government officials will have to bow to us. They will have to address us politely as... 'Sir'!

"I won't waste any more words. From today on... we live and die together!"

Eighty men took a deep breath, calming the surge of adrenaline in their chests. Then, they roared in unison:

"We follow Kane to the death! In this life and the next, never to betray!"

Rex stared intensely at Silas Rivers, the battle l**t he had suppressed for ten days leaking out of his pores. His predatory aura locked onto the scarred man. He wanted to test him. He wanted to see if the Scorpion could sting.

Kane noticed the tension and coughed loudly. "Caleb!"

Rex’s foot, which had been inching forward, froze mid-step. He smacked his lips, looking at Silas Rivers with reluctant hunger. He looked like a beast denied a meal. The inmates who knew Rex’s strength flinched slightly.

Mad beast... truly a mad beast.

"The reason we were released has already been explained to you by Marcus Grady, so I won't repeat it," Kane addressed the crowd, pulling their attention back to the mission. "Today is Day One. Our first battlefield is Hawthorne State, specifically the city of Larkspur. But before we conquer, we must build the skeleton of the Shadow Eagle Clan.

"The Clan will initially be divided into two main Halls: the Mad Tiger Hall and the Hades Hall.

"Outside of these two Halls, there will be three special units under my direct command: The Talons, The Shadow Division, and The Execution Unit.

"This is our first plenary meeting, so I will announce the appointments now."

Kane’s voice hardened, becoming the voice of a commander.

"First, The Talons. In the future, this unit will be the sharpest claw of the Shadow Eagle Clan. You will undertake the most difficult, dangerous, and critical missions. You are our internal assassination squad. The unit will consist of twenty-four men. The leader is Silas Rivers."

He scanned the faces of the kneeling men.

"The members inducted into The Talons today are chosen based on your combat ranking. Excluding Rex, Ethan Skyler, Jackson Hayes, Marcus Grady, Dante, Elias Thorne, Dixon Jace and Nathan Black... the top twenty-four fighters among you are now Talons. You answer only to me. From today on, you have no names, only codes. Silas Rivers is Blood Talon-1. The rest follow in sequence. Understood?"

Silas Rivers and the twenty-three selected men straightened up, their eyes burning with purpose. "Yes, Sir!"

"Next, The Shadow Division. Leader: Jackson Hayes. This unit is the eyes and ears of the Shadow Eagle Clan. Intelligence is everything. Success or failure depends on precision. Therefore, The Shadow Division requires not just professional spycraft but strong combat ability. Jackson, you will personally select your team. The unit is set at ten men for now, including yourself."

"Yes!" Jackson Hayes didn't hesitate. He immediately began scanning the crowd to make his picks, his mind already calculating the best scouts.

"Then, The Execution Unit. Captain: Dixon Jace."

Kane looked at the gloomy strategist.

"Elias, your unit is also set at ten men. Your duty is not external, but internal. You are the enforcers of the Clan rules. You punish any member who dares to challenge the code. You punish treason. You are... the Internal Affairs Bureau, but with blades instead of badges."

Dixon Jace gave a dark, sinister nod. "Elias will keep the house clean for you, Kane."

"Good. As for the Mad Tiger Hall and Hades Hall... Caleb, Ethan Skyler, you two will split the remaining thirty men. Fifteen for each Hall.

"Remember this: although our numbers are few right now, with our strength, dominating the United States—and eventually the continent—is not a fantasy. You men are the skeleton, the foundation. So, your duty is not just to fight bravely, but to learn how to lead. You are future commanders. Do you understand?"

"Understood! We will not disappoint you!"

Kane nodded with satisfaction. Finally, he looked at Marcus Grady, Elias, and Dante.

"Marcus, Ghost, Dante. You three will stay by my side from today on. You are my personal guard."

Marcus grinned broadly. "Heh heh. I like the sound of that!"

Without wasting any more breath, Kane raised his arm, pointing toward the winding road that led out of the mountains and into the world they were about to burn down.

"Alright. Let's move out. We need to be out of these mountains before dark."