The cold floor was the last thing the original Damon felt.
At twenty years old, his whole life had been one long, pathetic crawl from one disaster to the next.
Raised in a trashy Vesper orphanage, he had scraped together just enough to finish high school, stupidly believing hard work actually changed anything in this world.
He trusted Julian.
Julian was his best friend, the only person who knew how close Damon was to drowning.
But when a single entry-level job opened up at a local commercial firm, Julian didn’t leave anything to chance.
He sabotaged Damon’s application, framed him for stealing petty cash, and walked right into the job himself.
Left disgraced, penniless, and kicked out of his ratty room, the kid collapsed into the damp alley behind an abandoned warehouse.
Starved for days and completely broken, his heart gave out.
The original Damon died alone in the dirt, broke, and forgotten.
Then, darkness cracked open with a violent surge.
Snap.
The eyes flew open.
But the thing sitting up in that cold corpse wasn’t the broken boy anymore.
A vastly older consciousness stirred, quickly digging through the fresh memories left in the brain.
In his past life, he wasn’t human.
He was a Lust Demon-a sovereign entity of pure desire.
He was no misunderstood antihero, no tragic figure pushed into the dark.
He was a predator who looked at every living soul as a tool for his own power.
In his old realm, intimacy wasn’t entertainment; it was his cultivation.
Every woman he corrupted nourished his demonic essence.
Every conquest made him stronger.
He had been patient, cunning, and completely devoid of guilt.
Then an unexpected catastrophe wiped out his reign.
Yet here he was, taking a breath in human flesh.
Damon raised his hands, staring at pale skin and thin, weak fingers.
He tried to stir his old power, searching for that dark, bottomless pool of energy that used to make whole worlds fear his name.
Nothing.
No demonic aura.
No physical strength.
No supernatural flame.
A thousand years of sovereign cultivation, wiped down to absolute zero.
A low, dry laugh echoed off the brick walls of the empty alley.
So this is what I’m left with?
He flexed his frail fingers.
Human.
Frail.
Unremarkable.
How interesting.
He sifted through the kid’s memories, piecing together the petty betrayal, the empty pockets, and the miserable setup.
He didn’t feel a drop of pity for the previous owner of this body.
Weak people died.
That was just how the universe worked.
But for a demon who knew how to twist rules, a clean slate wasn’t a tragedy.
Still, a big problem stood right in his way.
He had his memories, his brain, his greed, and every hunting instinct he had refined over centuries.
But without his demonic core, he was starting from zero.
How does a Lust Demon get his edge back inside mortal flesh?
The logic of his nature should still hold up: intimacy would spark corruption, and that corruption would rebuild his power.
But without a spark of energy to kickstart the engine, he needed a lever.
He needed a way to test if his methods could work under the rules of this human world.
Before he could pull himself up from the wet asphalt, a cold, crystalline chime hit the inside of his skull.
[Ding!]
[100× Return System has successfully bound to Host.]
A translucent interface flared to life right in front of his eyes, pulsing with a sharp, metallic sheen.
╔═════════════════════════════════════════════╗
100× RETURN SYSTEM
╠═════════════════════════════════════════════╣
Host: Damon
Bond Slots: 0/2
Wealth: $0
System Space: Unlocked
System Bank: Unlocked
Facility Provider: Unlocked
Bonded Partners: None
╚═════════════════════════════════════════════╝
Damon narrowed his eyes at the floating black panel.
Simple.
Almost suspiciously simple.
He decided to test the boundaries mentally.
“Money?”
[Affirmative.]
“Knowledge?”
[Affirmative.]
“Skills?”
[Affirmative.]
“Physical development?”
[Affirmative.]
His gaze sharpened.
“So anything a bonded woman genuinely gains comes back to me multiplied by one hundred?”
[Affirmative.]
“And the return requires legitimate personal growth?
Fake transfers or cheap tricks don’t trigger it?”
[Affirmative.]
Damon stared at the panel for a few seconds.
Money.
Knowledge.
Skills.
Physical capacity.
The loop was ridiculous.
He had spent a thousand years learning how painful real cultivation was.
Every step up in power took mountains of resources, endless time, constant life-or-death fights, and blood.
Now, this interface was dropping a shortcut directly into his lap.
He didn’t have to grind through the mud himself.
He just had to find the right women.
If they grew, he grew.
If they made millions, got stronger, or climbed the social ladder, the system would take their real progress and dump a hundred times that yield straight into his lap.
It wasn’t a gift.
It was absolute leverage.
And Damon had always been a master at pulling levers.
He was still physically weak, wearing worn-out clothes, without a single dollar to his name.
But the road ahead was already lighting up in his head.
Damon called up the status screen one last time, his eyes locking onto the line near the top.
Bond Slots: 0/2.
Two slots.
His mouth twisted into a dark smirk.
Two keys.
That was all he got to start.
But two were more than enough if he didn’t waste them on trash.
He had zero interest in filling those slots with ordinary, average women.
He needed targets with real ambition, massive latent value, and serious potential women whose personal leaps would pull him straight to the top of this world.
He pushed himself off the cold wall and walked out of the dark alley.
He stepped onto the crowded sidewalk.
Neon lights reflected off the wet asphalt.
Cars rolled by.
People brushed past him, completely oblivious to the monster standing right next to them.
He had no money.
No cultivation.
No backing.
For an ordinary kid, this situation was a death sentence.
For him, it was just day one.
His eyes narrowed as he watched the luxury vehicles heading toward the city’s elite commercial district.
“Let me see what this city has to offer,” Damon muttered under his breath, his hands thrust deep into his pockets as he locked onto his path forward.
“And who’s going to be my first stepping stone.”
PLEASE ADD TO LIBRARY AND DROP A COMMENT.
Note – Don’t misunderstand the bond slots.
Two slots are just starting point , it will surely increase.