The Devil's Cabin
Ernst glanced at Jon, who was grinning from ear to ear.
"You're free to go," Ernst remarked.
"If you come across any magical items in the future, remember to trade them here. I'll even offer you a discount."
Coming back to his senses, Jon earnestly thanked Ernst and turned to leave.
Guided by the spherical robot, he stepped back through the obsidian door.
He watched from the alleyway as the door slowly vanished into the brick wall.
A cold sweat broke out across his neck. Jon vowed never to return.
He acknowledged his absolute luck. The silver cross his sister had given him was a true treasure that had saved his life.
Clenching his fists, Jon felt the raw, newfound power coursing through his veins.
A determined light flashed in his eyes. Escaping death had given him a new perspective on life.
While his body had changed into something monstrous, his unwavering love for his sister remained his anchor.
In the distance, a shout and the sharp scrape of blades reached his ears.
With his heightened senses, he pinpointed the gang boss who had ordered his execution.
Jon grabbed a heavy steel pipe from a nearby trash can.
He headed straight toward the commotion, eager to test his new strength on his pursuers.
Back inside the Cabin, Jon's ordeal was already a mere footnote to Ernst.
Ernst picked up the silver cross from the table, studying it closely.
He gently stroked the metal, revealing a faint silver glimmer that ordinary eyes couldn't perceive.
It was the physical manifestation of the power of faith.
To Ernst, a cross capable of storing belief was a high-tier magical item.
Its previous owner had accumulated the congregation's faith through preaching, storing it in the cross to eventually transfer to their Lord.
Ernst mused over this ancient method of condensing power.
It held the terrifying potential for creating a god.
If he could forge materials capable of carrying massive amounts of faith, he could ignite the divine fire.
He could refine human belief into reality and crystallize a true godhead.
However, creating a god required more than just materials.
It required a tangible, monumental object, an idol that people genuinely worshipped and recognized globally.
Thoughts of the Statue of Liberty crossed Ernst's mind.
He resolved to find a way to store faith and implement an ascension plan using the American monument.
Ernst's fleeting good mood was abruptly interrupted.
A spherical robot ushered in a disheveled young man.
He was pale, unsteady, and exuded an air of deep, erratic distress.
Ernst observed him with a puzzled expression, unsure if the human was intoxicated or suffering from withdrawal.
The young man didn't hesitate. He plopped down into the chair across from Ernst.
"Are you the devil?" he demanded.
"I want to trade my soul. Take it."
He leaned over the table.
"Just help me kill a pair of wretched scoundrels, and my soul is all yours. Aren't devils supposed to be the best at this?"
Ernst chuckled, gesturing dismissively.
"I'm afraid you've misunderstood."
"Look closely," Ernst said smoothly.
"I am a balanced devil. I emphasize equitable transactions based on the principle of voluntary exchange."
"Moreover, what I seek are magical items. If your soul possessed any peculiarities, I might consider it."
Ernst looked at him coldly.
"But your soul appears quite ordinary. It lacks any value for my collection."
"In addition, I do not provide assassination services here."
"If I were to kill someone for you, who's to say the target doesn't possess unique items? If I act as your weapon, can you guarantee I won't miss something valuable?"
The young man slammed his hand on the table.
"I can't believe this! You're utterly incompetent as a devil!"
"You won't even take a soul? No, you must help me take revenge on the scoundrels who framed me today. I'm willing to pay any price!"
Observing the furious expression, Ernst understood the man believed he was being scammed.
Ernst was not inclined to clarify the misunderstanding.
"As I mentioned, I don't engage in murder," Ernst stated.
"Even if you provided an exceptional item, all I can offer you is enhanced power. You'll have to carry out the act yourself."
"Can you manage that?"
The young man was left speechless, lacking anything tangible to offer as a sacrifice.
"Your silence says it all. You may leave now," Ernst commanded.
"As a penalty for disturbing me, the toll is two years of your life force. I hope you remember this lesson."
"I won't leave!" the young man spat, attempting to play tough.
"If you don't agree to my terms, I'll stay here forever and ruin your business!"
Without hesitation, Ernst snapped his fingers.
Two spherical robots swiftly darted forward, projecting anti-gravity beams that suspended the young man in mid-air.
A stasis field sealed his mouth, rendering him entirely mute.
With a wave of his hand, Ernst absorbed two years of the young man's life force.
Deprived of his vitality, the youth went completely limp, unable to resist any longer.
"Throw him out," Ernst commanded the robots.
"Block his access, and refuse any future transactions with him."
"Yes, Master!"
Ernst glanced at his watch.
It had been nearly twenty-four hours since the space doors of the Devil's Cabin opened.
Despite the silver cross, no other actual goods had arrived.
However, this was only the first opening.
As rumors spread in the underworld, more desperate people would be drawn to trade.
Ernst planned to open the Devil's Cabin for twenty-four hours every seven days.
Since rarity equated to high value, Ernst intended to utilize hunger marketing to showcase his trades as precious.
As the countdown approached for Ernst to close the doors, one swung violently open.
A beautiful young woman in her twenties rushed in.
She was desperately cradling two small, three-year-old twin girls against her chest.
"Please!" she sobbed.
"Save my children!"
Ernst observed the frantic mother.
She was striking, with long black hair, a high nose bridge, and a figure that adhered to the golden ratio.
With a touch of pity, Ernst shook his head.
His gaze shifted downward to the two children in her arms.
They were abnormally flushed, breathing in rapid, shallow gasps.
They were already unconscious.
"Calm down, ma'am," Ernst said softly.
"While I would like to help you, this isn't a charity organization."
"In this space, the rules of fair dealing must be followed. Rewards come with a price."
He leaned forward.
"Unless you have a sacrifice that satisfies me, I cannot assist you. What price are you willing to pay?"
Despite Ernst's sympathy, the laws of the Cabin were immutable.
"I'm sorry," Tina wept.
"I don't have money or anything valuable right now. But I will find a way!"
"Please, save my children first. As long as you save them, I'm willing to pay whatever the cost."
"I am very sorry," Ernst replied, his tone hardening.
"I do not offer credit here. If you cannot pay a price that touches my heart, I will not do it."
"And regarding money... do I look like a being short on cash?"
Tears flowed from Tina's eyes like a broken spring.
The absolute despair in her gaze evoked deep emotional pity.
She poured out her story. Her husband had been a hardworking man.
Shortly after their marriage, his health deteriorated rapidly.
Hospital visits yielded no answers, and he passed away just moments after seeing his newborn daughters.
It was Tina's absolute dedication to her children that kept her going through the darkest period of her life.
Yet, her twin daughters were frail from birth.
Caught in the rain today, they developed a deadly high fever.
Living in a remote area with limited financial means, Tina couldn't afford transportation to a proper hospital.
Then, on a desolate road, she found the door to the Devil's Cabin.
Initially skeptical, seeing the impossible interior convinced her of its magic.
While others would be terrified of the Devil, Tina was genuinely excited.
It was a chance to save her children.
She cared little about her own fate, showcasing the immense, sacrificial love of a mother.
Ernst felt a deep sense of unease.
Saving lives wasn't an issue. If he stepped outside the Devil's Cabin, he could heal them effortlessly.
Yet, breaking the rules within the Cabin was impossible.
The Law of Trade, governed by the Earth's consciousness, was absolute.
If he broke the contract rules he had just established, the backlash would be severe.
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