Beyond the passage opened by the Devil's Hand, a devil watched the mortal world from the depths of Hell.
Normally, she wouldn't have given a contract with such a meager offering a second glance.
Yet this time, she had responded herself instead of sending one of her subordinates.
The reason was that boy.
She had deliberately acted as though she wasn't interested. She pretended to be weak and even feigned interest in the battle, slowly making herself familiar to him.
It was all part of her trap.
That boy was, in many ways, the perfect contractor.
The sheer volume of his soul was already astonishing, especially compared to the souls of those who had made contracts with other beings.
And then there was its scent.
Pure.
Sweet.
Almost impossibly so for a human.
Every devil had their own preferences. Some liked greed, others hatred, despair, or ambition.
As for her, she particularly enjoyed taking pure and beautiful souls and slowly corrupting them.
