Chapter 31 demonic journeys and contracts.

Being the Master of the World... many have had thoughts or delusions about this idea. To be free to be and do whatever one wants, to be able to fly, eat whatever one desires, be whatever one wants! However, deep down, it all boils down to a single word: power!

Vincent was in one of the tallest buildings in England, his eyes gleaming as he observed everything below. People behaved like swarms, organized in a discordant symphony, yet with a unique rhythm.

Society was in a constant rush. A young man got up early to go to school, running while listening to music on a large radio he carried on his shoulders. His hippie and unpretentious appearance showed that he didn't care about the unhappy glances thrown his way. He sought to express himself freely, a lover of freedom.

An elderly gentleman in noble attire walked slowly along the sidewalk, his steps tired and his eyes distant. He was a man nearing the end of his brief journey called life. He was heading to his former business, which consumed him for 40 years, and he was truly grateful and proud of it. Having provided for himself and his family was a valuable achievement.

A middle-aged lady walked with a small basket in her hand, filled with fruits, vegetables, and grains. She was a woman dedicated to the prison called marriage, where she had devoted her life to raising her children and taking care of her husband.

Observing the dreams of thousands of people, Vincent realized how everyone yearned for something. Everyone desired to achieve something, to accomplish something. However, for some reason, they couldn't. They lacked the power. Whether it was to bring a loved one back to life or simply to have the freedom to visit a place on a trip, they were trapped in their own controlled and fragile worlds.

Vincent reflected on the banality and beauty of all these simple lives. So many different lives, with their own ideas and dreams, all relying on a great village called the city, which was part of something even greater called the country, and so on. To have power over all of this, to control the fate of billions of lives, even his own destiny... musings on greatness.

However, the most important thing was that he had the power, but not the desire. All he wanted was easily achieved, being content with little. In his nature, he was someone without ambition, but he understood the mechanics of society. To protect himself and those he loved, he needed to start building something that was convenient for himself.

Thus, he shaped a comfortable chair using his essence, resting comfortably on it and merely contemplating the civil scene with interest. In the end, he didn't want to be something like that, being the emperor of all this didn't suit him. It was no wonder the grimoire described him as someone with little ambition, with no interest in the pride of that title. He was practical and wanted his life to be enjoyed only for himself, his pleasures or displeasures.

That's why none of his achievements and merits in war mattered to him, nor did the titles by which he was called affect him. In the end, he did only what he wanted, without unnecessary responsibilities or burdens.

In recent days, he developed the habit of traveling, using his abilities to make it easy. He visited museums, interesting places, historic places where heroes of the past were born and died. Of course, doing business like demonic contracts here and there...

Among millions of lives and dreams, one story caught his attention. In a cold and gray place, a young lady sat desolate, leaning against the neutral wall of a hospital.

Vincent, through his illusion, was completely invisible and approached the beautiful young lady in a way that would catch her attention...

Helena was living the worst day of her life. It was as if the ground was shattering into a thousand pieces of glass. All that was left was to cry. She had spent hours in that cold place, but people didn't pay much attention to her. After all, it was common to see people like her crying in front of the hospital. The nurses offered her sedatives, but even that didn't help.

Her ears caught a strange and rhythmic sound, but she didn't pay much attention at first. As she started to think of memories of happier days, her eyes filled with even more tears...

The noise became bothersome, pulling her out of her world. She raised her face, and her eyes were surprised by a small cloud of butterflies, colorful as a rainbow. The scene was impactful enough to distract her from her pain for a brief moment.

It was as if the butterflies were dancing before her, which eventually elicited some laughter. The strange thing was that the other people didn't seem to notice this scene.

"Am I going crazy now?" she said, confused and lost, as if things weren't already bad enough, and now she was seeing things.

The sounds of bells organized themselves into an almost human and neutral voice, letting out a playful laugh to the girl.

And it replied, in a warm and playful voice, "What if you are?"