Succubi Chapter 37. Not Dying
He walked out of the wreckage like some kind of molten boss monster, chunks of rock embedded in his lava-skin, shadow smoke curling off him. His hoodie was long gone, burned off entirely. His remaining horn cracked. His mouth bled mana like it was drool.
"You're strong," he rasped. "But not strong enough."
I said nothing. Just summoned another Shadow Blade—this time, in spear form.
I lunged.
Our weapons clashed midair—his claws and my spear locking in a loud, vicious clang. The world shook. I kicked off him midair, spun, and hurled the spear into his gut.
[Damage Dealt: 1,204]
He hit the wall and stuck—just for a second. Just enough.
"Dark Healing!"
Dark energy coiled around my limbs, reinvigorating every nerve in my body.
[HP Restored: +610]
[Combat Boost Active: +20% Speed, Power for 10 seconds]
I couldn't let him escape.
I wouldn't.
This thing gets out? Reports back to some infernal throne? Game over for me—and everyone I care about.
"You're not leaving here alive!"
He pushed off the wall with a bellow and lunged again, flames swirling around his fists.
I ducked low, feinted left, slid under his leap, then rose behind him in a blur of shadows.
[Shadow Blade – Charged Slash!]
The shadows around me screamed. Every piece of broken debris pulled toward my blade. The hallway dimmed. My weapon pulsed like a beating heart full of void.
I slashed.
[CRITICAL HIT!]
[Damage Dealt: 2,470]
[Status Effect: Curse (Weakened Defense -20%) Applied]
His scream was horrible. Raw. Guttural.
He staggered, hands shaking.
Another glow started building in his throat—but this time, I didn't wait.
"Death Wave!"
I drove my fist into the ground, and a shockwave of pure necrotic mana surged outward from my core. It shattered what was left of the floor, warped the air, and hit him dead center.
[Fatal Hit!]
[Damage: 3,899]
[Target Disintegrating…]
His form fractured like glass—cracks spreading down his torso, splitting his limbs.
First his lava side.
Then the clown side.
Finally, his eyes flickered once.
"King… will… know…"
"No, he won't," I whispered.
And he was gone.
Gone gone.
No body. No essence. Just scorched shadows and flickering embers where a would-be assassin once stood.
[Demon Defeated: Half-Demon – Lv. 10]
[+5 Level Up!]
[New Level: 7]
[HP Increased: +172 (Total: 10,192)]
[DP Increased: +134 (Total: 254)]
[Stat Points Gained: +25]
Updated Attributes:
Strength: 44 (+3)
Agility: 67 (+5)
Endurance: 66 (+5)
Magic Affinity: 85 (+5)
Demonic Influence: 108 (+7)
My eyes widened. "No way."
Five levels at once?
I blinked at the display in front of me, like the system had decided to throw me a birthday party and forgot to tell me in advance. Everything in my body felt… sharper. Like the power wasn't just filling me—it was fitting me now. Like a glove I didn't realize I was supposed to be wearing all this time.
But then I felt it.
Something wet clung to my cheek.
I touched it.
Black. Sticky. Thick.
"…Ew."
Yup. That was demon blood. Still warm. Smelled like burnt metal and really bad decisions.
I grimaced, wiped my hand on a broken tile, and turned back toward the wrecked space behind me.
Except…
It wasn't wrecked anymore.
The moment I stepped over the shattered threshold, the second I closed the half-hanging door behind me—
[Underworld Space has been deactivated.]
And just like that, the world snapped back.
The cracked floor? Gone.
The scorched walls? Back to pristine, off-white ceramic.
The blown-out ceiling and caved-in stalls? All… fine.
The sink I crashed into? Spotless.
The flames, the blood, the ghostly screeching atmosphere?
Like none of it ever happened.
"What the actual—"
"Evan?"
I blinked and turned.
There, at the sink, stood Adrian, casually washing his hands, completely unaware he'd just been missing from a reality-altering hellscape.
He gave me a once-over and frowned. "Dude, you look like you got jumped by a tornado."
I stared at him for a beat too long. My eyes twitched. My lips opened. Then closed. Then opened again. "I…"
He tilted his head. "Did someone throw you in a mop bucket or something?"
I cleared my throat and forced the fakest, most casual smile onto my face. "Yeah. You know. Training session. Got a little… smoky."
"You weren't gone that long."
"I move fast," I said flatly.
He narrowed his eyes. "You sure you're not dying?"
"Not dying," I said, and stepped beside him at the sink.
I turned the faucet. Water rushed out like nothing had just been obliterated ten minutes ago.
I leaned over the basin, ready to scrub the demon blood off my face.
Only… it wasn't there.
I stared into the mirror.
My reflection blinked back at me.
No blood. No scorch marks. No cracked armor or dripping shadow magic.
Just me—disheveled, dusty, hair a mess, and shirt half-wrinkled. Like I'd just overslept and rolled out of bed with my head halfway in a dream.
Not like someone who just fought a lava-armed clown assassin and vaporized him with cursed shadow magic.
I froze.
"…Huh."
Adrian gave me a look. "You good?"
I stared at my reflection, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. Just… a little tired."
"No kidding. You look like you just ran three marathons and then lost a fight with a vacuum cleaner."
"Thanks, man. Real supportive."
He shrugged and dried his hands with the air of someone who hadn't just missed an underworld deathmatch in the next stall over. "Hey, weren't you promised a smoothie or something?"
I blinked. "Wait—what?"
He gave me a look. "Instructor Elise? She said she'd treat you, remember? Pretty sure she paid already. Check the café kiosk."
Oh right.
Smoothies.
The one bright spot in this chaos. The light at the end of a lava-tinged tunnel.
"Oh," I muttered, still a little dazed. "Right. She did say that."
Adrian pointed two finger guns at me and smirked. "Don't let that go to waste. I'm heading there now."
I nodded. "You go ahead. I'll catch up in a minute."
"You sure? You look like the haunted version of yourself."
"Yeah," I said, offering him a half-hearted thumbs-up while patting my face with a paper towel. "I just need to… freshen up a little."
He squinted, but didn't push it. "Alright."
With that, he left.
I stayed behind, letting the soft whir of the air dryer and hum of fluorescent lights settle over me.
Staring.
Thinking.
Processing.
I turned back to the mirror.
Ran my finger down the line of my jaw. Still a little dust clinging to my skin. My hair was a mess. My shirt was creased. But no blood. No scorch marks. Nothing from the war zone I'd just crawled out of. The system had reset the space perfectly, down to the last damn tile.
But I knew.
I knew what I'd done.
I knew what I'd become.
That space? That fight?
That kill?
Real.
I glanced at my hands. They weren't shaking from fear anymore. That tremble?
It was excitement.
Power.
My system was evolving with me—and I was starting to evolve with it. It wasn't just some passive tool feeding me spells and stat boosts.
It was guiding me. Testing me.
And apparently, bribing me with smoothies.
I straightened my shirt, splashed a little water on my face just for show, then met my own gaze in the mirror.
"Let's go get that smoothie," I muttered.
I pushed the door open and stepped out into the hallway, brushing my fingers back through my hair, expression calm—like nothing out of the ordinary had happened in there.
No big deal.
Just demon things.
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