The hallway was dim.
Not the romantic, candle-lit kind of dim.
More like "this place definitely violates several safety regulations" dim.
Cracked stone walls stretched endlessly, aligned in such an unnervingly orderly manner that it felt intentional—like someone had gone out of their way to make sure everything looked equally depressing. On both sides of the hallway stood bizarre stone statues, each one more grotesque than the last.
They had horns.
They had bat-like wings.
They had muscles that made professional bodybuilders look like kindergarteners.
Each statue bore a ferocious head twisted with eternal fury, as if frozen in the exact moment it realized it had been cursed to stand here forever instead of getting a life.
At the forefront of the hall stood an empty throne.
And let me tell you—this thing did not belong here.
While the walls were cracked and the statues looked like they'd just crawled out of a nightmare, the throne was absurdly luxurious. Jet-black obsidian, lined with crimson gemstones, engraved with ancient runes that screamed "I cost more than your entire kingdom."
It was like someone dropped a royal throne into a horror dungeon by mistake.
Beneath the throne and between the statues stood nearly a hundred hooded figures.
Their faces were hidden behind demon-faced masks, each one uniquely terrifying—sharp fangs, hollow eyes, twisted smiles. Only their eyes were visible, glowing faintly with malice.
Each of them radiated immense demonic energy.
The air was freezing.
Not metaphorically.
Actually freezing.
I'm talking "your soul starts shivering before your body realizes what's happening" cold.
But—
not everyone fit that description.
At the very last row stood a single hooded figure.
Me.
Shorter than the others.
Weaker than the others.
Way more confused than the others.
While everyone else radiated demonic power like walking nuclear reactors, my aura was… well… let's call it budget-friendly.
Almost negligible.
The only things noticeable about me were my deep crimson eyes and snow-white hair peeking out from beneath the hood.
I stood there, awkwardly.
Out of place.
Like a background NPC who accidentally wandered into the final boss meeting.
Yep.
You guessed it.
That was me—your friendly neighborhood MC.
AKA Rael Nightreign.
Now, before you ask what's going on—
Relax.
At first, I had absolutely no idea either.
Just like you, I was once an unemployed shut-in and a hardcore otaku.
Yes, brothers and sisters.
We are of the same bloodline.
The sacred lineage of instant noodles, sleepless nights, and unrealistic power fantasies.
What a life that was.
I woke up at noon.
Argued with strangers online.
Read web novels until my eyes burned.
Peak existence.
Then one day, for reasons still unknown even to me, I became motivated.
Yes.
Motivated.
A terrifying concept.
In my noble crusade to improve myself, I stepped outside.
And that was my first mistake.
And also my last.
Because I immediately encountered the legendary free-travel airline for all transmigrators.
Truck-kun.
The impact was brief.
The darkness afterward was not.
I waited in that darkness.
Patiently.
Hopeful.
I imagined a beautiful goddess appearing before me—an otherworldly beauty with silver hair, divine curves, and an outfit that clearly violated OSHA regulations.
She'd smile and say:
"Brave soul, you have been chosen."
Then she'd bestow upon me a broken system or some heaven-defying cheat.
Maybe a leveling system.
Which suited my taste.
Maybe infinite growth.
Maybe something absurd like Instant Mastery of All Skills.
Tasteful. Elegant. Overpowered.
I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
At first, I thought she was just busy.
After all, my transmigrated seniors were probably clogging up the queue with their requests.
"Make me the strongest!"
"Give me a harem!"
"I want a dragon girlfriend!"
Understandable.
But eventually, it hit me.
Nobody was coming.
No goddess.
No system.
No tutorial.
Just… darkness.
I was a little disheartened.
Okay, very disheartened.
But I'm adaptable.
I told myself—
"Maybe I'm special."
"Maybe I'll be born into a royal family."
"Maybe I'll awaken the Absolute Supreme Chaotic Physique."
Naturally paired with the Supreme Dragon-Phoenix Bloodline.
I'd have a cute little sister who adored me.
Or at least a yandere big sister who stalked me lovingly.
And obviously, a cold fiancée who pretended not to care but secretly loved me.
Perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
While fantasizing about my inevitable rise to dominance, I suddenly felt a powerful pull.
I didn't panic.
Because I knew.
This was it.
My moment.
(Staytuned, readers. YourMCisonhiswaytoworlddomination.)
When the darkness faded, reality slapped me in the face.
Hard.
I was surrounded by hooded lunatics chanting like their lives depended on it.
"For the blood!"
"For the chaos!"
"For the kin!"
"All hail the Demon King!"
Okay.
First of all—rude.
Second of all—this was the nth time they'd chanted that.
I get it.
Your Demon King is amazing.
Congratulations.
Now can you shut up?
I'm trying to assess my situation.
Where's my physique?
Where's my bloodline?
Where's my emotionally unstable sister?
At least give me something.
Thankfully, clarity arrived quickly.
Along with memories.
As it turns out, this body already had an owner.
And unfortunately for me, he was an idiot.
My name—Rael Nightreign.
Sounds cool, right?
Yeah.
That's the only cool thing.
I had transmigrated into one of my most hated novels—
"The Hero of the Sun."
A novel so cliché it should come with a warning label.
Hero.
Demon King.
Academy arc.
Harem.
Final battle.
The hero wins.
Always.
No twists.
No sacrifices.
No consequences.
Just an overpowered moron collecting beauties like limited-edition figurines.
"In the name of the Sun, I—the Hero of this generation—will defeat you, Demon King!"
I cringed just remembering it.
What a show-off.
But my eyes burned with jealousy.
That bastard had everything.
Powerful lineage.
Heavenly talent.
Ridiculous luck.
He grew stronger while flirting.
Meanwhile, everyone else trained like lunatics.
Enough.
This story isn't about him.
This is my story.
This is my begining.
And I got unlucky.
I transmigrated into an extra.
Worse—
A member of a low-level demonic human organization.
A bunch of lunatics who sold their souls for cheap power.
These contracts weren't mutually beneficial.
The demons slowly devoured the human's soul.
And guess what?
I was contracted to a low-level demon.
Not even intermediate, high level or Great demon.
Just a pitiful moron just like me.
That thing treated my soul like dessert.
Vanilla pastry.
I wanted to punch it.
But guess what?
Slave contract.
I literally couldn't.
Still.
I smiled.
Because there was one thing.
One hope.
One cheat .
One ancient power.
One of the Seven Legendary Seals.
The power that could make me strong enough to face the main casts.
This will be the beginning.
Beginning of me
Future sovereign of Demaria .
RaelNightreign
And this time—
I would not walk the path of the hero .
That road was already overcrowded.
I'd aim higher.
Much higher.
I fixed my gaze on the empty throne.
And licked my lips.
Like a creep.
Yes.
A literal creep.
( SomeonepleasesaveDemariafromthisdemon)