My Wives are Beautiful Demons

Aphrodite continued to cling to Vergil's leg like a divine grace on a ship from hell. Her eyes shone, and her lips trembled in adoration.

"He touched me with his soul… and with that arm, my God! That demonic arm…! It was like being embraced by the entire Milky Way, only with moans."

Vergil looked up, searching for some kind of salvation… a dimensional rift, a runaway comet, an urgent message from Paimon, and Sapphire to take him to training. Nothing. Just the ceiling. Which, honestly, was starting to look too cozy to bang his head against.

Katharina began to walk towards them with the typical gait of someone about to commit a crime of passion. The carpet raised dust beneath her feet.

"You. Have. Three. Seconds. To explain why the holy lube slut is glued to your femur!" she screamed, her eyes blazing brighter than a celestial blacksmith's hammer.

Roxanne crossed her arms, the cynical smile returning to her lips. "You know what's worse? It's not even jealousy... it's knowing that not even in the fucking underworld can we rest a day without a woman falling from the sky, the earth, or some exotic pantheon, straight into our man's dick."

Ada, who was now holding a platinum sword, a katana with an exotic sheath that she had never used… yet… was brand new, had never even been used, and had never felt the blood of anything or anyone. "Do you want me to skin her first?" she said, smiling.

Aphrodite looked up, deeply offended. "Hey! I'm a GODDESS. You can't just break a divine connection like that."

Viviane walked calmly, leaving the laundry basket aside. She took a deep breath.

"Aphrodite, right?" she said in a tone that mixed forced sympathy with contained threat. "Look, my dear... with all due respect to the universal forces of carnal desire, let the other man go before we find out if a Greek goddess bleeds like a mortal." Viviane, who looked like an angel, was slowly falling into a truly perverse demon.

Aphrodite opened her mouth to respond, but before she could spout an erotic verse or a mythological allegory, Sepphirothy stepped forward.

The floor shook.

The silence in the room intensified like an atmospheric pressure about to collapse.

She tilted her head slightly, eyes fixed on Aphrodite. Each word was spoken with a calmness as deadly as a blade held to the throat:

"You have ten seconds to let go of my son's leg. On the eleventh, I will dismember you and use your bones to decorate my fireplace."

Aphrodite froze. She looked at Sepphirothy. Then at the ground. Then at Vergil's leg, as if only now realizing what she was doing. She wasn't afraid of the other three… But this woman… She was as powerful as Sapphire Agares… No, she was… Stronger than Sapphire.

"…Okay. I think the enchantment of the ultra-powerful touch was still active. It was a… spiritual lapse." She let go. Slowly. Very slowly.

Vergil pulled his leg back as if retrieving a precious possession that had fallen down a drain.

"Thank you," he said, with scratched dignity. "That… was a diplomatic error."

"Ah, a diplomatic error," Katharina repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm like scorpion venom.

"Peace between pantheons is important," Vergil replied, already aware that each syllable was a nail in the coffin of his peace.

Viviane cleared her throat with a menacing calm that would make even an archangel choke. "Aphrodite. Go home."

Aphrodite fixed her disheveled hair with a completely invented dignity, as if she hadn't just behaved like an obsessed fan at a K-pop meet & greet.

"Sorry... it's just... I don't know how." She shrugged, with a guilty smile. "I mean, you know, right? The Underworld isn't exactly my territory. It's not like I have a map here... or a ticket back. And I'm alive, technically. I don't even know how I got in. But I'm fine! But getting out... that's another story."

Ada raised an eyebrow. Katharina let out a pained sigh. Roxanne rolled her eyes with the force of a banishing spell.

Vergil turned sharply to Aphrodite, his expression somewhere between outrage and exhaustion.

"Wait. You grabbed me knowing I was going to teleport you back... to the Underworld?! Risking your life?!"

"Hey, sweetie, calm down!" Aphrodite tried to caress the sleeve of his coat, but he dodged it like it was made of lava. "How was I supposed to know you were going straight to the Underworld? How many people do you think can do that like that, plim? Without exploding?!"

Vergil slowly looked around the room, glancing at each of the people present: wives, mother-in-law, even the demonic cat in the corner.

"We all can do it. Even the maids can."

Aphrodite blinked. Once, twice, three times. She wiped her eyes as if reality was blurry.

"...What's up?"

The silence was more eloquent than a thousand words. Everyone stared at her as if she were the only child who hadn't realized the play was over.

"...E-eh...right." She tried to put her smile back on. "Well, I risked my life. A pure gesture. Love at first sight...or rather, at first touch." She gave Vergil a passionate and completely inappropriate look.

"Then, I'm sorry...but I'm not leaving. Unless you want a war. Against a pantheon. With epic tragedy and everything." She said, smiling...

Vergil closed his eyes.

He took a deep breath… and then let it out in a long, dense sigh that seemed to have been torn from the depths of his soul. A heavy sound, like a pent-up thunderclap. A sigh that wasn't just tiredness—it was the limit of patience, the harbinger of a storm.

And then… the room shook.

Not physically—not yet. But reality seemed to shrink around him. The air grew thicker, denser, as if every particle were trying to escape the center of that presence.

Vergil's murderous aura began to leak out like black smoke from an ancient furnace. It wasn't simple magical power. It was pure intent. Intent to destroy. To crush. To annihilate. An invisible weight that dragged the hearts of those present as if they were dipped in molten lead.

The temperature dropped. The floor cracked beneath his feet. The light in the room flickered as if the very fabric of the Underworld was wavering—something it hadn't done since the last war between the Primordials.

Viviane was the first to falter.

Her knees gave way with a dull thud, and her eyes rolled back before her body hit the ground. The laundry basket fell with a ridiculously normal noise, contrasting with the supernatural oppression around her.

Ada, always so centered, so cold, took a step back with wide eyes… But she didn't actually retreat. She simply… blacked out. As if her heart had forgotten how to beat for a moment.

Katharina tried to resist. Her eyes shone with the same fury as before, but in the face of that force… she seemed like a candle in the face of a hurricane. Her body fell as if it had been disconnected from reality.

Only Roxanne was still standing, her body tense as a rope about to snap. Her gaze was fixed on Vergil, sweating cold, feeling a pressure so brutal that her bones felt like they were about to crack. But she remained there.

Out of pride. Out of habit.

And because she needed to prove that she was stronger than the other three who had given in.

Sepphirothy watched in silence. Motionless, like a statue made of will. Her aura did not rise—she did not need to. But her golden eyes analyzed her son as if considering the possibility of intervening. Or of judging him.

Aphrodite, on the other hand, was paralyzed. Literally. She could not move a single muscle. Her eyes were filled with tears, but not with emotion—it was pure panic. She was a goddess. A force. But Vergil… in that moment… was a calamity.

And then, as if realizing the damage… Vergil opened his eyes. Incandescent pupils, charged with something almost primal.

He looked at the three women lying on the floor, asleep under the pressure of their own anger.

"...I overdid it." His voice was low, muffled, as if waking from a trance.

With a simple gesture — but filled with careful delicacy — he raised his hand. His aura retreated like a black wave sucked back into the sea. The air eased like a lung breathing again.

The unconscious bodies of Viviane, Ada, and Katharina were gently lifted off the floor by his telekinesis. He carefully positioned them on the couch, even adjusting Katharina's disheveled hair with his fingers, before enveloping the three of them in a light layer of calming energy.

They would sleep soundly. Safe. Protected.

He stood there, staring at them for a moment, as if the entire world had gone silent around that simple gesture.

Roxanne wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead.

"That was... effective," she murmured, without sarcasm—just caution.

Sepphirothy took a deep breath and finally spoke, her voice controlled: "I'm glad they love you. Because if it had been anyone else... that would have been a declaration of war."

Vergil looked at Aphrodite, who was still shaking like an abandoned puppy in a storm. "I hope you understand," he said, all the coldness of the Underworld in his voice. "That was just... the end of my patience."

"HAHAHAHA WHAT AN INCREDIBLE KILLER INTENSITY!!!" A very loud scream came from outside before the door exploded. "HAHAHAHA YOU GOT EVEN STRONGER HAHAHAHA." Sapphire appeared… laughing like crazy…

…"S-s-Sapphire?…" Aphrodite stuttered several times, so many times that…

"WELL WELL WELL!! YOU CHANGED SO MUCH, YOU FUCKING VIRGIN BITCH!" Sapphire screamed, laughing, before approaching Aphrodite and grabbing her by the collar of the clothes she was wearing and lifting her up.

"Hm... she changed her perfume, her skin tone, her eyes, her hair, her hair color, and her body size, but she's still the same damn virgin as always. How ugly do you know? She should grow up," she said, laughing while analyzing Aphrodite.

Vergil looked at Sapphire. "Get rid of her; I'll reward you." He spoke simply and directly.

Sapphire's eyes turned from green to almost gold. "YES!" And in the blink of an eye... she was gone.