My Wives are Beautiful Demons

"I JUST WOKE UP, DAMN IT! CAN'T I GET A SECOND OF PEACE?!" Paimon shouted irritably—after all, dealing with humanity wasn't exactly her strong suit.

"Ah… what the fuck..." Vergil let out a heavy sigh. "Well... time to decide. Do we deal with them diplomatically, or do we start a massacre?"

"I vote massacre." Sapphire raised her hand.

"Same. But can we listen first and then kill them?" Katharina said, approaching and joining the couch, where Roxanne and Ada seemed... completely indifferent.

"How about, for once in our lives, we don't start a bloodbath first thing in the morning?" Raphaeline crossed her arms.

"Vergil, darling, I think it's up to you." Stella shrugged.

"For fuck's sake..." He rubbed his face with both hands and grumbled. "Okay, let's go over the facts." Vergil turned to Viviane, crossing his arms. "Why the hell are the FBI and Interpol after us?"

Before Viviane could even answer, he shot a suspicious look at Paimon.

"Hey! I didn't do anything!" Paimon immediately defended herself, throwing her hands up. "I didn't steal anything! I have more than enough money, I don't need to play around in the human world!"

Vergil sighed. "Alright, fine... Now, second fact." He looked at everyone in the room. "Do we have anything to fear?"

He started analyzing the most problematic people there.

First, Sapphire.

She simply tilted her head to the side and answered with absolute boredom. "I'm a fucking destroyer."

Next, Raphaeline.

She scoffed, impatient. "Vergil, seriously? Fear? You've got to be kidding me."

Then, Stella.

She remained silent for three seconds… before bursting into laughter. "HAHAHAHA! FEAR? HAHAHAHAHA!"

Vergil observed their reactions, took a deep breath, and shook his head.

"Alright. That settles it. Let them in." He pointed at Viviane, who merely shrugged and walked away.

Viviane rolled her eyes and went to the door, opening it with a forced smile.

Outside, a group of FBI agents and a few Interpol representatives stood in formation, all dressed in dark suits and wearing sunglasses. The leader, a tall and well-groomed man, raised his badge and opened his mouth to speak—

But Viviane cut him off before he could.

"Please... don't offend anyone." She sighed, crossing her arms. "I really don't want to ask them to rebuild the house again… it's already been four times this month."

The agents exchanged glances, confused.

"Right..." The leader cleared his throat. "We're just here for a—let's call it a reconnaissance mission."

"Great, then come in." Viviane stepped aside, but just as the agents started to walk in, she raised a hand and stopped them.

"But first… take off your shoes."

The silence that followed was so intense that even the wind seemed to stop.

"...What?" the agent asked, furrowing his brow.

Viviane arched an eyebrow. "We just cleaned the floors. If you're going in, do it in socks."

The agents looked at each other, clearly unable to believe what they were hearing.

"You... want the FBI and Interpol to enter in socks?" Natasha asked, incredulous.

Viviane smiled innocently. "Either that, or you can turn around and explain to your superiors that you failed your mission because you refused to take off your shoes."

The agent let out a long sigh, closing his eyes as if reconsidering all his life choices.

A minute later, all the agents were barefoot, holding their shoes in their hands, walking into the mansion with slippery dress socks.

'She did not just do that...' Vergil, seeing the scene, had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing.

Paimon had no such restraint and burst into laughter.

Stella whistled. "You know, this is kind of humiliating."

Sapphire, who was sitting on the couch, looked up from her tea and raised an eyebrow. "I disagree. I think it's hilarious."

Katharina, on the other hand, simply pulled out her phone and started recording.

Raphaeline, analyzing the agents with a critical look, finally summed up the situation in one sentence:

"You all look like a bunch of executives on a spiritual retreat in pantyhose."

The agents didn't respond. They just suffered in silence, trying to maintain a shred of dignity while their socks slid across the polished floor.

What seemed to be the leader of the operation cleared his throat and bowed slightly. "W-we are here on behalf of Interpol." He tried to keep a professional stance, but the discomfort was obvious.

"We're from the FBI. My name is John Walker, head of the Supernatural Division here in the United States." He presented his badge, trying to ignore the muffled giggles in the background.

Vergil observed him for a moment before finally crossing his arms and completely shifting his posture, adopting a more casual and lazy tone.

"Alright, now just get to the point." He smirked, leaning back on the couch. "Because I can guarantee that no one here did anything."

The agents remained silent.

John Walker took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, we know."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Even the FBI and Interpol agents turned their heads toward him at the same time, as if collectively asking:

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY DIDN'T DO ANYTHING?!"

Vergil blinked, surprised. Paimon tilted her head, curious. Raphaeline raised an eyebrow. Katharina nearly dropped her phone. Stella, who was drinking juice, choked—and well... Sapphire just laughed in the background.

Viviane frowned, crossing her arms. "Okay, let me get this straight. We didn't do anything, and yet, the top 10 of the Supernatural Division have several of our people, and we... didn't do anything?"

John hesitated for a moment, visibly uncomfortable. "Well... technically, yes."

Vergil ran a hand down his face, massaging his temples as he let out a long sigh of pure exhaustion. "For fuck's sake... then why the hell are you here?"

John closed his eyes for a moment, as if gathering the courage to speak. Then, finally, he answered:

"Because... we need your help."

The silence that followed was so deep that even the wind outside seemed to stop.

Everyone in the room exchanged glances, processing those words. Sapphire blinked slowly. Raphaeline frowned. Paimon raised an eyebrow.

Then, as if rehearsed, they all burst into laughter at the same time.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The roar of laughter was so loud that Ada and Roxanne woke up startled, sitting up on the couch as if they had heard an explosion.

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" Ada shouted, her hair a complete mess.

Roxanne blinked sleepily. "Are we under attack?"

"No... the FBI wants our help!" Stella wiped a tear from the corner of her eye while trying to catch her breath.

Ada and Roxanne blinked. Then looked at the agents. Then at the others. And then…

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" They started laughing again, even harder.

"Oh... Oh my stomach... ahahahah!" Roxanne clutched her stomach, tears streaming down her face from laughing so hard.

"What the fuck kind of help does the FBI want? HAHAHA!" Raphaeline questioned.

"HAHAHA I have no idea HAHAHA!" Sapphire laughed along.

John rubbed his face with both hands, trying to keep his patience while the group recovered from their laughing fit.

"Alright, alright... are you all done?" he asked, his tone dry.

Vergil took a deep breath, still with an amused smile on his lips. "Alright, spill it, John. Why the hell do you think we would help Interpol or the FBI?"

John adjusted his tie, trying to regain some dignity before continuing.

"Because a war is about to break out. And if it does, there will be nothing left but ashes."

Vergil's smile vanished. John seized the moment and continued:

"Werewolves, vampires, fallen angels, demons, and who knows what else… all of them are arming themselves. We're detecting heavy movements all over the city. Contracts are being signed, alliances are forming out of nowhere, battlefields are being prepared... if this turns into an open conflict, Los Angeles will become hell on Earth."

He took a deep breath and concluded:

"And we know that you know more than we do. So... what the hell is going on?"

Silence settled once again, but this time, there was no laughter.

That's when Paimon scoffed, crossing her arms.

"You guys really think you understand what's happening? What fucking alliance are you talking about? There's nothing like that going on." She rolled her eyes. "You're all pissing yourselves in fear, thinking a war is about to break out... idiots."

She paused, then smirked arrogantly before concluding:

"But it's fine. Just leave and let things unfold as they should. This won't last more than two or three days anyway."

"Hm?" John and the agents blinked, confused.

Vergil just smiled.

John took a step forward, his face serious.

"Two days? What do you mean? What do you know that we don't?"

Paimon let out an exaggerated sigh, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers, her expression full of boredom.

"Ugh... what a pain. Government lapdog." She waved her hand as if shooing away an insect. "Just go already. Shoo, shoo! We're busy coming up with a plan, alright?"

John gritted his teeth, ready to retort, but before he could say anything, his phone started ringing.

He pulled the device from his pocket and answered.

"Yes?"

A tense silence filled the room as he listened to the voice on the other end. Then, his eyes widened.

"Holy shit..."

He immediately hung up, spinning on his heels to face the group.

"Hey... excuse me." John cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, then looked at Roxanne, who was casually holding the TV remote. "Can you put it on channel 203?"

Roxanne raised an eyebrow. Enjoy exclusive content from My Virtual Library Empire

"You're really bossy, you know that?" She rolled her eyes but pressed the buttons on the remote.

The moment the screen changed, silence fell over the room.

The images showed Los Angeles engulfed in flames.