{Chapter: 17: Steps Towards Future!}
In the Bottomless Abyss, where chaos reigned supreme, killing was the only law that mattered. There was no time for leisurely contemplation. Every second spent thinking was a second wasted. Survival meant eliminating anything that stood in his way.
The time flow advantage—where one day in the outside world equaled three days here—gave him ample time to prepare, to scheme, to solidify his path before venturing into the deeper layers of the Abyss.
After careful thought, Dex identified the seven core pillars of his development:
1. [Spells] – Expanding his magical arsenal, refining his control, and diversifying his destructive capabilities.
2. [Body] – Strengthening his physical form to complement his spellcasting, ensuring versatility in both ranged and close combat.
3. [Soul] – Strengthening his spiritual foundation, reinforcing his will against corruption, and preparing for potential soul-based abilities.
4. [Source of the Death Plague] – Perfecting his command over disease, shaping plagues into precise, strategic weapons.
5. [Suffering and Torment] – Delving into the art of psychological warfare, using fear and pain as tools of control.
6. [Elemental Talent – Blood Flame] – Harnessing the volatile, devastating nature of his bloodline's fire affinity.
7. [Magical Characteristics – Corrosion] – Enhancing the corrosive properties of his magic, ensuring every spell he cast left a lingering, ruinous effect.
These are the future paths he decided on this month!
He can be close or far, and although he cannot be said to be impeccable, he does not have any obvious shortcomings. As long as he develops, he can survive anywhere.
This framework provided him with everything he needed to thrive in the Abyss. No single weakness would define him.
While he could not be truly flawless, he would eliminate any glaring vulnerabilities, ensuring he could dominate in both close-quarters combat and long-range warfare.
With his priorities established, Dex adjusted his evolution point allocation system. From now on, he would reserve only one-quarter of his earnings for emergencies, while the remaining three-quarters would be systematically distributed across his core abilities.
The time for aimless growth was over. Every decision would serve a purpose.
Dex finalized his self-evaluation, summarizing the current state of his progress:
1. His combat techniques were effective but lacked refinement. There was still an element of crudeness to his movements, something that could be sharpened with further training.
2. His bloodline magic was potent but unrefined. He could wield its effects, but he did not yet fully understand the mechanisms behind them.
3. His knowledge and experience were still lacking. Though his strength had grown immensely, his perspective had yet to catch up—there was much about the world he still did not know.
Self-awareness was key. Only by acknowledging his weaknesses could he correct them.
Discover your own shortcomings and then find ways to make up for them. This is what Dex wants to do now.
Dex exhaled, dissipating the swirling gray-black mist in his hand. Rising from his chair, he reached for a nearby apple, biting into it absentmindedly.
His gaze drifted beyond the pavilion, through the twisted flora that grew along the edges of his dwelling. Above, the sun hung at its peak—a blasphemous imitation of the celestial bodies in mortal realms.
Despite his many enhancements, Dex still felt uncomfortable beneath its rays.
The sun, no matter the world, symbolized the sacred. Its light carried an inherent force that repelled creatures of darkness. If not for the protection of [Armor Rune – Scarlet], the very sunlight itself would have been a constant source of irritation, if not outright damage.
Even as a lower-level demon, his instincts rejected exposure to its brilliance.
It was an instinctive, visceral discomfort—a sensation that burrowed deep into the essence of all demons. The oppressive weight of the world's natural laws wrapped around them like chains, while the sun's presence burned into their very being.
To demons, it was akin to being yanked from the depths of an ocean, left gasping and flailing on dry land, their bodies betraying them as their power dwindled. The suffocating force of suppression—an invisible law dictated by the world itself—was ever-present, unyielding, and merciless.
Weaker demons, particularly those at the [Young Demon] level, wouldn't even have the luxury of struggle. If they dared to step into this world's sunlight without protection, they would be reduced to smoldering ashes in mere moments.
It was for this reason that many creatures of the dark, from fledgling demons to abyssal lords, studied spells such as [Dark Sky] and [Cloudy Sky Summon] with relentless devotion. Without access to their home turf's advantages, demons—beings whose very nature thrived on invasion—would find themselves at a dire disadvantage in enemy worlds. Adaptation was survival, and survival was war.
Dex shifted his focus back to the apple in his hand. It was vibrant, its red skin smooth and unblemished, the flesh crisp and juicy beneath his teeth. By all human standards, it was one of the finest apples one could hope to find.
And yet… it tasted like soil.
The dull, gritty sensation spread across his tongue, completely at odds with what he remembered. His [Overclocked Brain] allowed him to recall, in perfect clarity, the taste of apples from his past life—sweet, refreshing, carrying a hint of tartness that made the flavor come alive.
But that was before. That was when he had been human.
Now, his tongue rejected it, unable to process it as anything but alien. The sensation was neither outright repulsive nor painful, but simply wrong—a muted, unsatisfying flavor that his demonic instincts failed to acknowledge as nourishment.
For demons, true indulgence lay elsewhere.
Their most exquisite delicacies were souls and flesh, preferably harvested from beings brimming with emotion or powerful energy. The stronger the emotions, the more flavorful the feast. The purity of absolute good and the depth of absolute evil were the rarest and most exquisite treats, like the finest wines reserved for only the most discerning connoisseurs.
To them, eating was not merely about sustenance—it was about absorption, transformation, and power.
Even their own kind were not exempt.
Devouring fellow demons was neither taboo nor forbidden—it was simply another step on the road to supremacy. There was no guilt, no hesitation, no moral barrier standing in the way. If anything, it was expected.
Yet, for all the practicality of consuming their kin, there was one undeniable truth: it was bland. Uninspiring. A necessity, but never a pleasure.
To eat another demon was to consume something that lacked novelty, lacked depth, lacked thrill. It was the equivalent of being forced to eat the same plain, flavorless meal every single day—not because one desired it, but because it was necessary to survive.
There was no joy in it, no excitement—only the monotonous grind of consumption, an endless cycle of taking and devouring in the pursuit of strength. A tasteless sacrifice in exchange for greater power.
The flesh and souls of their own kind were never off-limits—they devoured them without hesitation. Yet, the taste was bland, uninspiring, lacking the thrill of something truly indulgent. It was like being forced to eat the same plain, flavorless cake every single day—not even a favorite, just a dull necessity.
There was no pleasure in it, no excitement—only the relentless grind of consumption. But strength demanded sacrifice, and so they ate, enduring the monotony in pursuit of greater power, swallowing the tasteless sustenance like a chore, knowing that with each bite, they inched closer to domination.
Dex exhaled through his nose, his dissatisfaction evident as he shifted his gaze toward the courtyard. A flick of his wrist sent an invisible force rippling through the air, and within moments, a faint rustling emerged from the grass.
A long snake—its slender, sinuous body writhing in alarm—was lifted effortlessly into his grasp.
It was a meter in length, its head slightly pointed, its emerald-green and dark-red scales forming eerie, ghostly patterns that slithered along its form like shifting tattoos. The creature's beady eyes gleamed with primal fear as it instinctively coiled and attempted to strike, its fangs dripping with venom.
It was futile.
With a precise application of force, Dex held it in place with his fingertips, applying just enough pressure to keep it restrained without crushing it outright. Then, without ceremony, he slit its throat with a single, effortless movement.
The blade of his nail carved through its flesh cleanly, severing its blood vessels and venom sacs in one smooth motion. A slow, deliberate tilt of his hand allowed the thick, viscous fluid to drip onto his apple, soaking into the skin like a dark, exotic seasoning.
He took another bite.
Hmm…
It wasn't bad. The venom left a faint tingling sensation on his tongue, a slow-building heat that carried a subtle but intriguing spiciness. The taste was far from satisfying, but at the very least, it had taste. That was more than he could say for the fruit on its own.
A minor improvement, but an improvement nonetheless.
Once finished, Dex discarded the snake's lifeless body without a second glance, letting it drop onto the cold stone floor. Its twitching ceased within moments.
Reaching for the towel on the nearby table, he wiped his hands and mouth methodically, ensuring that no trace of the meal lingered on his fingers.
With that, he turned on his heel and began walking toward his laboratory.
There was work to be done.
****
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