All Chapters of The Devil's Lust System: Chapter 131
- Chapter 140
168 chapters
Moment of Parting
"Turn right, Sabrun! Right! That's the way home!"Desmond shouted in the midst of the swirling void. He wasn't running; he was swimming through the air, fighting the strong currents of the river of time, its colors blinding to the eye. His body was being pulled in every direction, as if gravity were drunk."Can't do it, Boss! The steering is jammed! There's a giant firewall at the 2025 coordinates! The signal is blocked!""Break through it with the Grail's energy!" Desmond raised his right hand. A ball of purple energy—the remnants of the Holy Grail and Victor's power—shone brightly, trying to burn through the transparent wall blocking his way home. "I have a god-tier battery now! Nothing can stop me!"BOOM!Desmond fired the purple beam. The wall of time in front of him vibrated, cracking slightly to reveal a fleeting glimpse of a modern city—neon lights, flying cars, anomalous creatures, and his messy apartment. And the shadow of his si
Dry Sand and Bloody Swords
"KILL THAT DOG!"A shout in ancient Aramaic mixed with a sharp Latin command shattered Desmond's eardrums. Yellow dust billowed, choking him; it felt like inhaling ground glass.SWUSH!A Pilum—a heavy Roman javelin—slammed into the sandy ground, just two centimeters from Desmond's still-ringing ear."Woah!" Desmond rolled to the side, his legs kicking sand into the face of a thick-bearded rebel who was just about to swing a curved sword at his neck."Die, Roman Demon!" the rebel yelled, momentarily blinded by the grit."I'm not Roman, you Idiot! Look at my underwear!" Desmond shouted back, jumping backward. "Egyptian silk! Imported!"But nobody cared about fashion on a battlefield.To his left, the red shield wall of the Roman Legion moved forward like a meat grinder. To his right, the Judean Zealots attacked with suicidal fanaticism. And Desmond was the meat in this deadly burger."Sabrun! Where's my m
Romans and Strategic Slavery
SPLASH!Cold, fishy-smelling water drenched Desmond's face, forcing him to wake from his unconscious state. He coughed, spitting out the remaining dust from his journey. His eyes stung, but he forced them open.He was no longer in the wagon. He was in the middle of an oval-shaped sandy arena surrounded by high stone walls. The midday sun burned the skin of his naked back. Around him, dozens of other men—slaves, prisoners of war, criminals—stood trembling or sat hugging their knees."Wake up, Trash!"The sound of a whip cracked in the air. CRACK!A dark-skinned giant with burn scars covering half his face stood before them. He held a leather whip in one hand and a heavy wooden staff in the other. His muscles looked as if they were carved from granite.He was the Doctore—the Head Trainer of the Ludus."My name is Spartacus... no, just kidding," the man grinned cruelly, revealing gold teeth. "My name is Crixus. And starting
Gladiator
SCREECH!The iron gate in front of Desmond lifted. Blinding sunlight pierced his eyes."Get in there, Fresh Meat! Make us proud!" Crixus shoved Desmond's back.Desmond stepped out.The white sand of the Colosseum greeted his feet. Hot. Glaring. And loud."HAAAAA!"Cheers exploded from the audience as they saw Desmond standing alone in the middle of the giant arena. He wore only a leather loincloth, a single shoulder guard (galerus), and held a small knife.In the VIP box, General Marcus Lucullus leaned forward."Is that your champion, Marcus?" asked Livia Drusilla, the Emperor's wife, seated beside Augustus. Her sharp eyes assessed Desmond's body. "He looks... small.""Just wait, Empress," Marcus smiled thinly. "He is small, but he is venomous."Suddenly, trumpets blared.Three trapdoors on the arena floor opened simultaneously.ROAAARRR!Three giant Bengal tigers lea
The Emperor's Wife
"You look much cleaner without someone else's blood splattered across your face, Gladiator. But those eyes of yours... they remain untamed."Desmond turned to face Marcus Lucullus, who stood beside him on the balcony of the Palatine Hill palace. They overlooked the city of Rome, glittering in the night. Behind them, the sounds of drunken laughter, the clinking of golden goblets, and music filled Emperor Augustus's private banquet hall."I’ve been scrubbed, oiled, and dressed in this," Desmond replied flatly, tugging at the collar of his tunic that felt like a noose. "I feel more like a sacrificial lamb than a guest of honor.""You are both," Marcus took a sip of his wine, a thin smile playing on his lips. "Tonight, you are the main attraction. The senators, generals, and their wives—they all want a close look at the 'Beast Tamer.' Don't embarrass me, Desmond. Or it’s back to the pigsty for you.""Relax, General," Desmond swiped a goblet of wine from a passing slave's tray. "I know how
The Deal
"I am a Gladiator, My Lady," Desmond answered calmly, letting Livia touch him. He used this opportunity to release his natural pheromones. Just a little. Enough to make Livia’s breathing grow heavy."Don't lie to me," Livia hissed. Her hand squeezed Desmond's arm, her long nails digging into his skin. "I have seen many men. Heroes, cowards, kings, slaves. But you... you are different. Your skin feels like..."Livia brought her face close to Desmond's neck, inhaling the man's scent."...like danger," she finished."Danger is arousing, isn't it?" whispered Desmond.He was no longer passive. He reached out, touching Livia's waist. The purple stola fabric felt smooth, but the body beneath it was tense.Livia gasped. No one dared to touch the Emperor's Wife without permission. But she didn't slap his hand away. Instead, she pressed her body closer. Dominance met dominance."You dare touch me?" Livia challenged, her voice husk
The Political Arena
"Don't stand so tall. You are not a statue; you are a shadow."Livia Drusilla whispered without turning her head, her eyes remaining fixed on the papyrus scroll in her lap. She sat in the private garden of her villa, surrounded by statues of gods and the gentle trickle of fountains.Desmond, now dressed in a plain black linen tunic—the uniform of a high-ranking personal servant—relaxed his shoulders slightly. He stood two steps behind Livia, a strategic position to see anyone approaching, yet a submissive one in the eyes of outsiders."Apologies, Mistress," Desmond replied quietly. "Old habits. In the arena, if I bowed, I’d lose my head.""Here, it is the same," Livia rolled up the papyrus, then handed it backward without looking. Desmond caught it deftly. "Except it is not swords that behead you, but gossip. Burn that letter. It contains a list of Senator Cicero's shameful debts. We no longer need that evidence after tonight."Desmond crushed the scroll in his grip. The target was lo
The First Kill
"Ready, Boss. Technique: 'Cardiac Arrest' via Vagus nerve compression. Requires precise pressure of 50 psi at the point between the 3rd and 4th ribs. Death will be categorized as natural heart failure due to obesity and heat.""Perfect," whispered Desmond.He slipped into the water. His movements were so smooth they caused no ripples.Cicero lifted the towel on his face slightly upon sensing the water move."Who is that?" asked Cicero lazily. "Slave? Add more oil.""Certainly, Master Senator," answered Desmond softly.He emerged behind Cicero."Special oil for a long journey," whispered Desmond.Desmond's right hand moved like lightning. His middle finger, reinforced by Physical Mastery, pressed a specific point on Cicero's left chest.THUD.Not a hard punch. Just a very deep, focused touch. Like a needle piercing a balloon.Cicero's eyes bulged. He opened his mouth to scream, but no a
The Emperor's Eyes
"Sit."The command was brief, quiet, and devoid of any overt threat.Desmond sat on the single wooden chair placed in the center of the spacious, dimly lit room. There were no lavish decorations here. Only a work desk cluttered with maps, a bust of Julius Caesar staring coldly from the corner, and Emperor Augustus peeling an apple with a small knife.Behind Augustus stood the Old Sorcerer in black robes. His eyes were blindfolded with a cloth, but in his hands, he held a clear crystal ball that pulsed with a faint blue light."Comfortable?" Augustus asked without looking up."The chair is a bit hard, Your Majesty," Desmond replied casually, crossing his legs. "But it’s softer than the cell floor.""Good," Augustus sliced a piece of apple and ate it slowly. "Do you know why you are here, Desmond? Or should I call you... 'The Phantom Assassin'?"Desmond didn't blink. His heart wanted to race from the adrenaline, but he held it back."Sabrun, status on that mage?""That's a 'Truth Seeker
Livia's Political Desire
"You are still alive."Livia's voice floated from behind the sheer silk drapes surrounding her massive bed. She didn't ask; she stated the fact with a sense of relief disguised as indifference.Desmond closed the door to the Empress's private chambers, locking it tight. He walked closer, stripping off his black tunic, which reeked of incense smoke from Augustus's interrogation room."Your husband is a smart man, Livia," Desmond said, letting the tunic fall to the marble floor. He stood shirtless, displaying a body sculpted with dense muscle and fading scars. "He knows I am dangerous. But he would rather keep a sharp sword than throw it into the sea. I got away.""Good," Livia parted the curtains.She sat on the edge of the bed. She was no longer wearing her official *stola*. Her body was draped only in a transparent robe of Coa silk—the most expensive fabric in Rome, famous for revealing everything while still covering the skin.