Multiverse: Deathstroke

Chapter 358: Ch.357 Eighteen Levels of Hell

Pan was dead again. In the past, he had died many times simply by partying too hard, but this was the first time he'd had his head chopped off.

Looks like it's time to visit Grandpa Hades again...

Thinking of Hades' buffet of organs and body parts from the dead made him retch.

That mortal was terrifying. All Pan had done was sneak a peek at Diana's chest, and he ended up dead for it. Everyone was right—there must be some intimate relationship between that mortal and Diana.

Unfortunately, he had become the sacrificial scout for the gods.

His soul looked despondent as he walked down the familiar path, ready to be "hosted" by Hades again.

He entered the black-and-white corridor. He had walked this two-tone hallway many times; he just needed to walk straight ahead, towards the deepest darkness.

That way led to the Underworld, where Death would send everyone to the afterlife they believed in.

But something seemed different today. The dark end of the corridor occasionally flickered with firelight. Could it be that Hades had grown tired of his corpse buffet?

With various questions in mind, Pan walked through the door, which vanished behind him as he entered the tunnel.

What appeared in front of him was a ghostly, eerie palace—black bricks, black tiles, elaborate carvings. Hanging from the eaves was a large wooden plaque painted with three complex symbols.

All around were blue-faced, tusked demons throwing some souls into frying pans, releasing a strange aroma.

In front of the palace gates was a table, behind which sat a man with a pale complexion, dressed in luxurious black attire. His cold gaze pierced through Pan, as if seeing through everything about him.

"What soul dares enter my domain? How is it that you look like this?"

Pan was completely bewildered, his ugly face contorted into an expression of confusion. He didn't understand a word of what was being said.

What should he do?

"Dare you defy me? Guards, prepare the oil pan..."

The pale-faced ruler's expression turned displeased. Beside him, a god holding a small notebook and pen leaned in and whispered into his ear.

"The soul has been sent by Death... Special treatment from the West, process from one through eighteen..."

Pan only caught fragments of what was said, and didn't understand it at all. He saw the god in black stroke his beard, nod slightly, and take a small wooden stick from the table, throwing it onto the ground.

"Ox-Head and Horse-Face! Seize this soul and send it through all eighteen levels of hell—none shall be skipped."

"As you command!"

Pan found himself shackled by two half-beast strongmen, being led towards a pitch-black door.

Even as clueless as Pan was, he understood that this wasn't some floral wreath or welcoming. These two burly figures exuded an eerie aura, and kept giving him sinister smiles.

"Mr. Ox, Mr. Horse, I'm a goat, you know—we could be friends..."

The black door opened, revealing a magical elevator. Ox-Head and Horse-Face dragged Pan inside.

"I say, Brother Ox, what's this Western soul talking about?"

"I couldn't care less about learning their language. Why, Brother Horse, were you hoping to find some college girl to translate for us?"

"Sigh, it's just that I haven't had any quotas recently. I used them all on those D-list actresses from before."

"Then quit talking. Let's go—first level: Tongue Ripping Hell."

Meanwhile, Su Ming had already located his own dream in the Dreaming once again. He put effort into gathering his energy, and soon woke up.

Diana was holding him, flying through the sky. Not much time had passed.

However, Diana was all hard armor and muscle—there were no "benefits" whatsoever.

"Alright, Diana, Pan won't be bothering us for quite a while now."

Su Ming gestured for her to let go; he could fly on his own.

"Did you just have an out-of-body experience?" Diana let go, noting that they were nearly at their destination.

"Not quite, just had a dream."

Su Ming grinned mischievously but didn't mention anything about Death. Instead, he made an excuse about finding a friend who sent Pan to the Court of Yama.

"Yama?"

"An Eastern god of death—stronger than your uncle Hades."

Diana sighed helplessly. Doing things so recklessly would definitely lead to trouble. She just hoped it wouldn't cause some kind of divine war.

Stranglehold always acted in unpredictable ways, and yet his plans were always thorough—impossible to see through.

As they flew, she listened to Su Ming describe the various tortures of the afterlife he mentioned—things like skinning souls or cutting off fingers, all done thousands of times over. She couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Pan.

That said, even if Pan reincarnated, he probably wouldn't dare to provoke them again.

At least she wouldn't have to deal with that pervert anymore—there were some perks to this.

"We've arrived."

Diana pointed to the ground, where a large theater stood, illuminated by countless spotlights, giving it a grand appearance.

"Is today some special occasion? Quite the spectacle." Su Ming looked around at the giant posters of Zatanna's glamorous photos and autographs, feeling a bit curious. "Wait, weren't these people just mind-controlled by Eclipso earlier today? And now they're out to see a show?"

Diana shrugged. She didn't think it was a big deal. "Humans are forgetful beings. Besides, even if the apocalypse comes, people will still want to keep living. Dwelling on the past doesn't compare to living in the present."

"...You must be a fake Diana, right? Goddess of Philosophy, is that you?" Su Ming slipped into the shadows of the street, using Stranglehold to transform into a suit and tie, and looked at Wonder Woman in amazement.

"Nonsense. Don't you know Greece is famous for its philosophers?" Diana gave him an embarrassed slap. She wanted to show off her deep thoughts—maybe Su Ming liked women with intellectual depth?

But clearly, that wasn't the case. Su Ming hated philosophy just as much as she did, and even made up some "Goddess of Philosophy" nonsense to mock her. What kind of pantheon would have such a deity?!

Still, it seemed they did have a lot in common...

But when she gave him that playful slap, she noticed the outfit he was wearing—it looked like a formal suit, but felt hard as steel and was cold to the touch, carrying a dangerous vibe. Her arm hairs stood up. "What are you wearing?"

"Liquid nanorobot super-camouflage protocol Omega," Su Ming made up on the spot, extending an arm and gesturing for Diana to link hers with his as they entered the theater together.

However, the smile on his face was stiff, like the grimace of a corpse that had died from laughing gas. Stranglehold attempting to mimic a natural smile was quite a challenge.

"Uh, that's a long name." Diana's eyes spun from the string of jargon. Each word on its own made sense to her, but she had no idea what they meant when put together.

"No matter, just know it's harmless. Let's head inside, ladies first." Su Ming chivalrously opened the theater door, signaling for Diana to enter first.

But Diana didn't need anyone to coddle her. She grabbed Su Ming's arm, pulling him along, and they walked shoulder to shoulder into the brightly lit lobby.

"I know Zatanna's manager. Let's take the employee entrance to the backstage area."

Confidently, Diana dragged Su Ming along, heading towards the door marked "No Entry" while tossing a few bills at the theater counter to buy some popcorn.