Hell

With a single thought arising, sin flourishes.

With a single thought extinguished, hellish demons arise.

A sigh is only for a mother's sake.

For Elmer, the moment the wolf woman bit his neck, he should have died, truly should have died. Yet his consciousness persisted. He couldn't feel pain, couldn't feel joy, couldn't sense temperature, and couldn't even feel existence. He merely felt like he was perpetually falling, endlessly plummeting, as if he might continue falling like this for a lifetime. Where was the end? Elmer had no clue, only a sense of having transformed into dust.

"Monarch, this time the soul collector has received a soul with an exceptionally strange energy. You've brought it with you."

A moment passed.

"This soul is so peculiar, it's actually a dark red color. Most souls are white. It's truly remarkable."

"Monarch, what should we do? Should we present this soul to the Demon King along with the others, or—"