Devil Slave (Satan system)-Chapter 1246: How To Grow? 2

Enel frowned deeply, his fiery golden eyes narrowed as he stared at the operating table before him. The room was dimly lit, its walls lined with floating holographic runes and ancient scripts etched into black stone. The air carried a faint metallic tang, the kind that lingered before great transformations—or disasters.

Things were not progressing as quickly as he had planned, and for someone like Enel, this was unacceptable. His base of operations in the outside world had been compromised. Victor—someone he had once trusted—had succumbed to temptation, letting the Devil whisper poison into his heart. Now, the secrets of this city, its vulnerabilities and defenses, were in the hands of demons, fallen angels, and a new enemy: the Regent of Hell herself.

A mysterious woman of immense power. Enel had not even known she existed until her tendrils of influence began choking his plans. She was calculated, dangerous, and cunning. It was safe to say she was now added to his ever-growing list of adversaries.

And what a list it was.

All the royal demon families. The fallen angels, led by the embodiment of the greatest sins to plague existence. The devils of Hell, each one vying for their piece of the infernal crown.

For most beings, the instinctive choice would be simple—hide. Retreat into the shadows and spend eternity in obscurity, avoiding the watchful eyes of Hell and Heaven alike. But Enel wasn’t built that way. Running from a fight was a foreign concept to him.

Besides, he had a personal vendetta.

The Morningstar.

Lucifer, in his arrogance, had stolen Enel’s body, wearing his face as though it were his own trophy. The thought of the fallen angel parading in his flesh, taunting the universe, made Enel’s blood boil with unbridled rage. He wanted revenge. No, he *needed* revenge. It gnawed at his soul, a relentless hunger that demanded satisfaction.

But revenge required power.

His initial plan had revolved around reclaiming the Satan System, whose efficient design had once been his greatest asset. It had allowed him to grow in strength and mastery in a fraction of the time it would take others. In just over a year, he had achieved what entire species might labor over for centuries.

Yet even the system seemed too slow now.

He needed something more. Something that could elevate him past his limits and bring him face-to-face with his enemies on equal footing.

Enel understood the problem all too well: he was a patchwork of power and lineage. Part demon, part human, part werewolf, and tainted by the blood of a fallen angel. The intricate complexities of his existence created a monumental challenge. And as the old adage went: *to grow, one must first know oneself.*

So here he was, in a chamber of his floating city, staring at the cold, surgical metal of the operating table. The tools of his trade gleamed ominously under the faint light, their edges sharp enough to cut through bone—or reality.

But this wasn’t about anyone else. This wasn’t another experiment or one of his studies.

This time, the subject was himself.

He rolled his shoulders, exhaling slowly. This was a gamble—a dangerous one. Experimenting on his already fractured existence could either lead to the breakthrough he desperately needed... or unravel him entirely.

Enel’s fingers grazed the edge of the table as he muttered, "If power won’t come fast enough, then I’ll force it to come."

He wasn’t afraid. Fear was for those without purpose, and his purpose was crystal clear. He would rise, no matter the cost. And when he did, every demon, devil, fallen angel, and regent would know what it meant to cross him.

For now, though, he had work to do.

Enel stood in the middle of the chamber, the cold, sterile air licking at his bare skin as he methodically removed his clothing. His muscles, taut and scarred from years of battle, glistened under the faint, flickering runes hovering around the room. He stared down at the instruments laid out before him on a nearby surgical table. Each blade gleamed wickedly, honed to an edge so fine it could slice atoms.

"This is what it takes," he murmured, his voice low but resolute. "If no one else will dissect my mystery, then I’ll do it myself."

He reached for the largest scalpel, its hilt inscribed with runic symbols, and positioned its edge against the center of his chest. There was no hesitation. With a single, precise motion, he drove the blade into his skin and drew it downward, splitting himself open as cleanly as a master surgeon might handle their patient.

The pain was searing, but it was nothing new to Enel. Pain had always been his companion, a familiar specter. Instead of flinching, he chuckled darkly, muttering, "Pain is just the body’s way of saying it’s still alive. Let’s hope that holds true today." these were teachings of the monastery of pain and pleasure.

Blood flowed freely, but it wasn’t entirely red. Swirls of black ichor mixed with a faint silver sheen pooled at the incision site. As he peeled back the layers of muscle and tissue, his curiosity flared.

"Fascinating…" he said, his fiery eyes reflecting the silvery threads that ran through his flesh like veins of molten metal. "Not human. Not demon. Not even fallen angel. A creature entirely its own."

One by one, Enel began removing his organs, laying them carefully on a secondary table as though he were cataloging ancient artifacts.

The first to emerge was his liver—larger than any human’s and faintly iridescent, its surface shimmering like polished opal. He held it aloft, his fingers steady, and tilted it toward the light.

"Not a trace of toxins," he noted. "Self-regenerating? No... self-purifying. A biological furnace." He smirked. "Efficient, as always. I suppose that’s one thing I don’t need to fix."

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Next came his lungs. Unlike the spongy organs of mortals, his were smooth and translucent, almost crystalline in structure. When he exhaled, faint wisps of smoke curled through the chamber.

"Perfectly suited for hellfire," he mused, turning them in his hands. "Adapted to burn, not breathe. A weapon, not a necessity."

As he delved deeper, he discovered anomalies that would have baffled even the most brilliant minds of any world. His intestines shimmered with a silver-blue hue, their inner linings laced with sharp, crystalline structures.

"Digestive acid strong enough to dissolve steel," he murmured, running a gloved finger along the jagged edges. "Not quite dinner-table friendly, but effective."

Finally, his attention turned to the most intriguing organ of all—his heart. When he reached into his chest cavity, his hand didn’t find it where it should have been. Frowning, he probed deeper until his fingers closed around something hard, dense, and pulsating with a strange rhythm.

He pulled it free, holding it before him with a mixture of awe and confusion. His heart wasn’t a soft, four-chambered muscle like that of a human. It was a dense, metallic structure, its surface etched with glowing runes that pulsed in time with his own heartbeat.

"A... three-chambered design," he noted, his voice tinged with surprise. "No wonder my blood moves differently. It’s not just circulating—it’s cycling energy. A living engine."

The heart glowed faintly, its inner mechanisms visible through the translucent outer shell. Small, gear-like structures turned within, powered by an energy source he couldn’t quite identify.

"But here…" he muttered, narrowing his eyes as he spotted a faint crack along the edge. "A weakness."

He tapped it lightly, and a jolt of pain shot through his chest. Grimacing, he muttered, "A chink in the armor. Figures. Even perfection has its flaws."

After thoroughly examining his heart, Enel carefully replaced it, feeling its rhythm align once more with his own. He continued to reassemble himself, his hands moving with practiced precision.

"Strengths and weaknesses," he mused aloud. "Every piece of me, a contradiction. A weapon and a liability. Anomaly after anomaly."

When he finally finished, his chest sealed itself shut with a faint, fiery glow, leaving no trace of the incision. He stood, breathing deeply, his mind racing with new insights.

"This body…" he said, clenching his fists as power surged through him. "It’s not just a vessel. It’s a weapon, a key, and a curse."

He smirked, his fiery golden eyes gleaming with determination. "And now, I know exactly how to use it...."