The Devil's Lust System

Running Out of Time

The marble walls of the toilet stall in the Obsidian Tower seemed to breathe, and the floor appeared to spin. Every nerve in Desmond's body throbbed, sending signals of acute pain that threatened to rip his new body apart. This wasn't just low energy. This was the Incubus Rage—a primal hunger that would turn him into a bloodthirsty monster incapable of distinguishing friend from prey.

He had less than ten minutes before the madness took hold.

Before him, Amel—the wealthy socialite with a lethal, mature charm—seemed increasingly blurry, like an illusion in a desert. She wore an expensive purple gown and assumed he was the elite gigolo she had ordered at a fantastic price.

“You're Desmond, aren't you?” Amel asked in a captivating, husky voice, her sharp green eyes scrutinizing Desmond from head to toe. “Why do you look so tense? Relax, darling. Let's enjoy this moment.”

Desmond smiled, a sharp, emotionless curve of the lips. It wasn't a human smile.

“No time to relax,” Desmond hissed, his voice heavy with hidden menace. His movements were lightning-fast; Amel didn't even have time to react before Desmond shut the stall door, locked it with a single slam, and pinned her against the mirrored wall.

“We start now. Here,” he commanded, plunging into an aggressive kiss. He stole Amel's breath, dominating, planting his lethal need deep within the woman.

Amel returned the kiss wildly, her initial shock rapidly dissolving into pure, startling passion. The strength Desmond displayed was unlike any man she had been with. Her body trembled beneath the grasp of his cold hands.

The expensive gown felt like an obstruction. Desmond tore down the zipper until the fabric slid to the marble floor with a small, unforgiving *whoosh*.

“I’m not… ready…” Amel gasped, her voice choked. In an instant, she was naked, her slender, sexy, and exceedingly well-maintained body looking magnificent under the stall’s dim lighting.

Desmond didn't care. The Demon Core in his chest pulsed, demanding sustenance. This was a race against time, not a romantic seduction.

“System, Transfer DP to the Demon Core. Now!” Desmond commanded internally.

The Demon Core responded with a searing heat, burning him from the inside out. He gripped Amel’s thighs, hoisting her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist, lifting her body to an unimaginable height in the narrow stall. He buried himself inside her without preamble, without warning, driven only by the starving Demon's instinct for survival.

Amel was jolted, overwhelmed by a fierce sensation, a surge of pleasure injected directly into the core of her desire. She clung to Desmond’s neck, her fingernails digging into his shoulders with abnormal strength.

Desmond felt the stream of Desire Points (DP) flood into him. This was no trickle, but a tsunami of energy. The sensation was like hot liquid fire filling the empty hollows of his body, cleansing the poison of the Incubus Rage.

He moved with savage tempo, completely dominating. Each thrust drained immense energy from him, but it was immediately replaced and multiplied by Amel’s passionate energy.

In that storm of energy release, Desmond saw it.

Amel arched in a howling ecstasy, and from her lower back, just above her posterior, two short, pearlescent tentacles emerged. They were visible for only a split second—transparent and sensual—before receding, absorbed back into her skin. The strange movement left behind a strong scent of sea and passion.

‘A Kraken. She is a Kraken Anomaly,’ Desmond confirmed. The sexual energy of a Kraken Anomaly was among the most potent. No wonder the DP transfer was so rapid and massive.

Desmond drew the energy deeper, devouring Amel’s passion to the last drop, using it to calm the roaring Demon in his chest. Amel screamed again, calling his name in equal parts desperation and euphoria, her eyes rolled back with pleasure.

As Desmond reached his peak, the explosion of DP completed him. Overwhelming power spread from the Demon Core to his fingertips, cleansing all residue of the Incubus Rage. The relief he felt was more intoxicating than any alcohol or drug.

Amel fell, her body sinking, nearly helpless. She hung in Desmond’s embrace, her skin slick with sweat, her vision still blurred, but filled with a total satisfaction that left her speechless. Only shaky breaths escaped her.

***

Five minutes later, they emerged from the stall. Amel looked slightly unsteady, but the silk gown had been salvaged and clung perfectly once more. Only her aura had changed: Amel looked far more alive, as if her soul had been scrubbed clean, and her eyes radiated a fierce sense of ownership toward Desmond.

They sat in an exclusive cafe. Desmond could now relax, full power within his grasp.

“You truly are a devil, Desmond,” Amel whispered, sipping white wine, her mature voice husky. “I feel… I feel like I was simultaneously attacked, plundered, and healed. I never knew my desire could be that fierce.”

“Your passion is exceptionally potent, Amel,” Desmond complimented. He needed to keep their interaction professional, yet an odd thread of emotional connection remained after such an intense exchange of energy.

Amel nodded. She then revealed her ruined marriage, her boring wealth, and her profound loneliness. This was an unexpected, fragile side beneath her elegant socialite façade.

“I know what it’s like to be abandoned when you desperately need support,” Desmond remarked. Edi’s words surfaced, mixed with Desmond’s composure, lending an unexpected, genuine warmth.

Amel’s face softened. “You didn't just service me; you understood me. It’s insane. Other men only want my wealth. You wanted my essence.”

She reached for her expensive handbag and pulled out a thick envelope. “This is for the best service of my life. The amount is more than enough to help you start a new business.” She then handed him her private platinum card.

“Don't lose my card. I want a follow-up session. But next time, I want us to take our time,” Amel smiled. The smile promised ruin.

Before leaving, Amel leaned in and brought her mouth close to Desmond's ear. The tip of a transparent tentacle emerged and sensually brushed Desmond's earlobe before quickly disappearing.

“Until next time, my Incubus,” she whispered. She left, leaving Desmond with a different kind of hunger.

A system window appeared, singing a song of victory.

[DESIRE POINTS FILLED: 50 DP (Maximum)]

[INCUBUS RAGE TIMER RESET: 48 HOURS.]

[Mission Complete: BIRTH OF THE INCUBUS]

[AMEL (Kraken Anomaly) has officially been added to your 'Intimate Partners' list.]

[Congratulations! 50 DP has unlocked BASE UPGRADE: Regeneration & Strength (Level 1)!]

***

Desmond walked toward the exit. Mindful of the life awaiting him, he activated the degradation process. The newfound demonic aura retracted, trapped within the Demon Core.

Desmond’s sharp face, broad shoulders, and confident eyes shrank, melting into Edi’s stooped posture, tired eyes, and thick glasses. He hid the envelope of cash inside the pocket of his shabby jacket. His body felt heavy, and his mood was bleak, yet a terrifying power lurked beneath the nerd’s skin.

The dilapidated rental house greeted him with the smell of dust and mustiness. The door creaked loudly. Sella, his stepsister, was sitting on the worn sofa, a book in her hands.

“Edi! Where have you been?!” Sella jumped up, relief and anger warring across her tired but beautiful face. “I called repeatedly. The debt collectors came again! They threatened to seize everything tomorrow!”

Edi walked forward. Sella’s voice, which usually made him shrink back, now sounded like a distant whine. Desmond’s internal transformation gave Edi a composure he had never felt before.

“I was looking for a job,” Edi answered, his voice steady. He pulled the thick envelope from his jacket, drawing out several bulging bundles of cash.

Without a word, Edi tossed the pile of money onto the coffee table, among the dry biscuit crumbs. The cash landed with a rough, bouncing sound.

Sella froze, her gaze shifting from Edi’s face to the dirty stack of wealth. The amount was staggering. Enough to pay all their bills and her college tuition, twice over.

“What… is this?” Sella whispered, taking a step back. Her expression showed no relief, only fear and suspicion.

“For all the debt. And your college money,” Edi said, looking Sella straight in the eye, an action he rarely performed.

Sella’s suspicion exploded. She stepped forward and grabbed Edi’s shirt collar roughly. Her grip felt hot.

“Where did you get this much money, Edi?” she demanded, her voice rising, filled with burning accusation. “What did you do? Did you sell yourself to someone?”