Devil Slave (Satan system) Chapter 2 Transmigration Of A Murderer...

My professional skills improved over time, and I even started bringing home "souvenirs" from my assignments. Sometimes it was a finger or a hand; other times, a leg or a skull. These gifts always moved my mother to tears.

I assumed she was simply overwhelmed with joy, as she had a habit of crying whenever she was happy. This was despite the constant scolding and shouting she directed at me.

Still, I sensed the love in her gaze. After all, she never reported me to the authorities.

Eventually, every bird must depart from the nest.

I felt no resentment when she finally tossed my belongings out of the house. By that point, I was already earning a significant income through the dark web for my successful contracts.

It was time to venture into the world and make my mentor proud. Like a fledgling forced into flight, I spread my wings and took to the sky.

In my line of work, I had never once shed a tear during a job.

I’ve heard that there is a first time for everything in this profession.

Many newcomers weep the first time they witness the vibrant crimson spray that erupts when the carotid artery is severed.

But not me.

To me, it was always a stunning masterpiece.

I did try to be less messy following my debut, but a kill never felt truly satisfying unless the neck "thanked" my efforts with a gushing fountain of red juice.

Ultimately, it is a craft.

Just as painters get covered in pigment to produce a beautiful canvas, I embrace the mess.

I recognize that no human is truly a saint. I don't claim to be one myself, though I always strive for excellence.

Mother used to say there was no difference between a white lie and a massive deception, but I doubt she would hold that opinion if she had witnessed the world through my eyes.

And so, following the example of Lucifer Morningstar, I committed myself to purging the world of evil.

I know what you're thinking.

A single person couldn't possibly punish all the world's darkness, but I gave it my absolute best effort.

I began my crusade with the thieving, abusive politicians.

My logic was straightforward: their lies caused the most widespread suffering. Even their "small" lies had devastating consequences.

I lived on this earth for thirty-six years, and in that time, I eliminated evils numbering seven times my own age.

The police suggested that if a world record existed for serial killers, I would be at the top of the list.

Can you believe it? After all my dedication, they considered that a sloppy number.

The target I was currently pursuing was hailed as a "good man" by the public, but my trained eyes saw through the facade.

No man is truly that righteous. Even I’ve been known to drink straight from the milk carton on occasion.

After digging into his life, I finally uncovered the truth.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

The cleaner they appear on the outside, the filthier their secrets. And this man was truly revolting.

It didn't matter, though. I’ve never been one to shy away from taking out the trash.

This particular individual had a depraved compulsion for forcing himself on hitchhikers—many of whom were far too young.

Afterward, he would have his security detail dispose of them. Scum like him made my stomach churn more than anyone else.

The police were unreliable, and their investigations were buried in red tape. By the time they found evidence, he would have already wiped his record clean.

As a faithful disciple of Lucifer, I decided it was my responsibility to end his tyranny.

Following my usual ritual before a job, I pulled out a torn page featuring the devil from a childhood storybook. I asked for guidance once more to ensure a successful mission.

I prepared my blades. Unlike the ones my mother used, these were professional grade and made the act of cutting effortless.

I infiltrated his estate in the dead of night. I dealt with the guards first, serving them up as appetizers for the Grim Reaper before the main course.

They were highly trained military types, but my career had required me to master a vast array of lethal skills.

I had even studied martial arts for years. I was nothing if not dedicated to my craft.

Only that level of obsession yields true excitement and fulfillment.

Mother always advised me to find a job I loved. And I absolutely adored mine.

After bypassing the guards and several traps, I finally reached his private quarters.

To my surprise, he was missing. That’s when the realization hit me.

It was an ambush.

Using the reflexes that had saved my life countless times, I threw myself out the window, but guns are faster than men.

During my desperate retreat, I spotted him. My target.

He stood on a balcony, barking orders at the armed men to gun me down.

I was faced with two paths.

Option one: flee, survive, and risk never getting another shot at him.

Option two: kill him at any cost and save the lives of future victims.

I chose the latter.

I lunged off the ground, diving straight into the line of fire.

I’ve been shot before, and I honestly believed my bullet-dodging skills had reached a new level.

I was mistaken.

A stray round pierced my heart. Yet, as my eyes closed to the sight of my own beautiful red juice, I felt a mixture of pride and a single regret.

I had already released my knife, aiming for his throat.

*STAB!*

Hahaha! A total home run!

As I faded from the world, two things brought tears to my eyes.

First, it was heartbreaking to know I could no longer punish the wicked in this realm.

But more importantly, why couldn't the bullet have hit my carotid artery? Dying like this was proof of their amateur marksmanship; it failed to showcase my red juice in its most magnificent, flowery glory.

How tragic...

.....

My soul drifted away from my physical form. When I opened my eyes, I was looking down at the stunning blue marble of the planet below.

This was the end. I had left the world behind with some business unfinished, but eternal damnation couldn't be all that bad, could it?

Or so I assumed.

Suddenly, a mechanical chime echoed in my mind.

//Welcome to the Satan System//

A translucent interface materialized in the air. I reached out to touch it, but my hand passed right through.

"What the hell is this...?"

//Before addressing your inquiries, please review the message from Lord Lucifer Morningstar.//

The system cut me off.

//I am on the verge of fading into nonexistence, so I will be brief. I was betrayed. I was cheated out of my Apocalypse, and I require you to avenge me.//

"Betrayed? The Devil himself was cheated?"

The concept made no sense to Lenny, but the transmission continued.

//I have successfully triggered the apocalypse across numerous parallel dimensions. That blue world below was meant to be the eighth. I exist at what many term the 'God level,' and for eons, this has been my function. However, something went wrong...//

Lenny listened in sheer disbelief.

Lucifer was destined to bring about the end times, but a group of his power-hungry subordinates had conspired with alien deities to stab him in the back.

They had divided his divine essence among themselves and claimed lordship over that world. Because of their treachery, the apocalypse never occurred as ordained.

Lucifer’s arrival was intended to purge humanity of its corruption.

He was a form of "necessary evil," a force meant to correct the world before moving on.

But his followers wanted more. Their lust for dominion drove them to plot with hostile divine beings behind his back.

For a God, death is final. Yet, before his soul dissolved completely, he used his remaining power to scour the multiverse for someone capable of setting things right. He had reached out and altered Lenny’s destiny to bring him here.

It was true—Lenny was skilled enough to have evaded that fatal shot, but Lucifer had nudged the bullet toward his heart.

Lenny wasn't sure how to process this. If he still had a pulse, his heart would be racing. This was the figure he had idolized his entire life. To say he was thrilled was an understatement; he would have wept if he were still capable of it.

A small, golden chalice suddenly manifested before him.

//This contains the final remnants of my soul essence. Mortals cannot slay devils, but a fellow devil can! This shall prepare you for the trials ahead.//

As the message vanished, Lenny grasped the cup. He hesitated for a moment, but since he was already dead, he figured things couldn't get much worse.

He tipped the chalice back and swallowed the contents in one gulp.

//Congratulations, host. You have inherited the soul of Lucifer. Commencing transport to a compatible vessel.//

//Searching...//

//Searching...//

//Viable host body located. Transmigration in progress.//

Lenny felt a violent tug pulling him toward the planet.

He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, the System’s voice greeted him.

//Transmigration successful.//

//Daily Task: Survive the Coliseum.//