As soon as I stepped into the inn, a wave of unnatural cold shot through my spine, drilling straight down to my tailbone.
It wasn't the kind of chill you get from a drafty room; this was a deep, internal cold that felt like it was freezing me from the inside out. I suddenly felt taller, my joints popping softly as my posture straightened without my consent.
A sharp, piercing sensation erupted from my scalp, followed by a strange, solid weight settling there. My fingers tingled and stretched, the bones feeling like they were lengthening, growing longer and more slender than they had any right to be. I felt different, completely alien in my own skin.
But I wasn't the only one changing. When I turned to look at Samael, who was striding into the empty club with his usual stern gaze, I saw it. Dark, curved horns now spiraled from his temples, looking like they had grown right out of his skull. His fingers were longer, tipped with nails that looked more like sharpened obsidian than anything human. Ancient, glowing words crawled over his skin like living tattoos, their faint, crimson light pulsing with a slow, rhythmic beat with each step he took.
My eyes quickly found a large, ornate mirror hanging in the lobby. I barely held back a scream. There were horns on my head too, large and curled just like his, a weight I couldn't ignore.
My eyes, which had been a plain and boring brown, were now a dark, unsettling shade of violet, like a fresh bruise. A long, slender tail, almost like a cat's, twitched and dangled behind me, moving with a mind of its own, swishing through the air. I looked different... like a monster, like an—
"Incubus." Samael's deep voice cut through my rising panic as he stood behind me, his newly transformed, tall frame utterly intimidating my newly slender one. He looked like a predator, and I looked like his prey.
"What?" I gasped, whirling around to face him, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"You're an incubus, Aaron Maddox. You've been selected by the Corrupter himself."
I stared, my mind struggling to catch up, to process this new reality. "Selected for what?" I managed to ask, my voice tighter than I wanted it to be.
"Ask your system for your stats," he said, his tone completely flat, as if he were telling me to check the time on my phone.
"How do I even do that?" I asked, feeling a spike of frustration.
He just shrugged, a small, infuriating movement, like it was the most obvious thing in the world and I was an idiot for not knowing.
I cleared my throat, feeling stupid but having no other options. "System, show me my stats."
A vibrant, violet holographic screen buzzed to life right in front of my face, so close I could almost taste the static. The sudden light and the wall of information threw me off balance for a second, and I stumbled back a step, completely taken aback by the sheer shock of it.
[HOMEWRECKING SYSTEM STATS: AARON MADDOX (HOST #30)]
[Designation: The Reborn One
System Affiliation: Corrupter's Legion – Division of Desire
Status: Active (Probationary Succubus)
Level: 1 — Jezebel's Den Initiate
Location: Jezebel's Den (Primary Field Station)]
[Wreckage Points Balance: 0/10,000,000]
[Objective:
Seduce. Manipulate. Corrupt. Collect.
Every soul you touch must draw closer to sin — your success determines ascension.]
[Rank Progression:
Level 1 – Jezebel's Den Initiate: Seductive training ground. Serve, observe, tempt.
Level 2 – Tempter: First real missions begin. You are granted a "target list."
Level 3 – Collector: Capable of claiming souls directly.
Level 4 – Master of Vice: Independent assignments.
Level 5 – Corrupter's Chosen: Command others, lead a circle of your own.
Level 6— Titan: Serve as the Corrupter's right-hand maid during the apocalypse.]
[Current Mission:
[Hunt and kill a soul to fulfill Tier-1 Seduction Quota (5 successful temptations).
Failure in any mission resets progress and demotes host down the rankings.]
[Penalty for Failure:
Any punishment decided by the Corrupter.]
[Base Attributes (Initial Stats):
Charm: 67 / 100
Deception:52 / 100
Control(Emotional Influence): 49 / 100
Combat Instinct:41 / 100
Lust Energy:73 / 100
Corruption Rate:3.5%]
[System Note:
"Rise, Aaron. The Corrupter's Den feeds on desire. Tempt them, break them, own them. Fail me once, and you will return to dust."]
"What the actual f-ck?" I cursed out loud as the screen disappeared. This is completely crazy. It's sick, even. I knew the supernatural existed in whispers and stories, I just never realized it was this organized, this brutally serious.
"Your primary target is the kind you last killed, Aaron," Samael said, stepping closer, his presence filling the space.
"Men?" I asked, confused.
"Cheating women." He gave a casual shrug, like he was discussing the weather. "This club is built specifically for them. Their souls come here at night, and you, alongside thirty other succubi and incubi, will collect them for the Corrupter." He sighed, a sound of mild annoyance, and started heading towards a dark, polished door that I suspected was his office. I followed him, my bare feet silent on the plush carpet. "Isn't it unfair, Aaron? What the Creator did? He preaches love but cast you off into hell the second you defended yourself."
A hot stir of rage buzzed through me, sharp and immediate. He is right. I wasn't given another chance, no trial, no nothing. Just condemned.
"This is why the Corrupter is giving you another chance. We're working on a way to dismantle the Creator's systems once and for all. All we need is your help."
"My help?" The concept was absurd. What could I possibly do?
"Yes, your help." He said as he entered an elevator. This place is huge, I made a mental note to check it out later when I wasn't having a cosmic crisis. "The former Aaron Maddox is a successful hockey coach and at the age of thirty, he accepted a job offer as a sports professor for Stanbury University, one that would lead to his doom,"
"His doom?" I prompted, the words feeling heavy.
"A colleague, Darcy Grey, made a move on Aaron and when he refused she framed him for assault. He's currently facing the university panel after losing almost everything—his reputation, his peace of mind, probably his career."
"Great," I muttered, the irony bitter in my mouth. "I'm now in the body of someone as f-cked up as me,"
"Indeed," Samael agreed. "The rift that led to your death was initiated by Constance. Men are always implicated by women. No one even cared to listen to Aaron, you can imagine the public outrage." The elevator stopped with a soft ding and he walked out, me following right behind like a lost dog. He slid a keycard against a lush, mahogany door that opened directly into a sky-high office with a panoramic view of a city I didn't recognize, all glittering lights and shadows. "Aaron had attempted suicide, but the Creator 'saved' her. You know what He does. He intends to make sure she suffers more, so she can eventually break and run to Him, as always. He got poisoned by his close friend and died at the rink today, which allowed us to make the transfer."
"Where is he now.. his soul?" I had to know.
He smiled, a cold, thin expression, and sat on a sleek leather couch, taking off his suit jacket. "It's indefinite, only the Creator knows." He chuckled at the irony. "We want to give you another chance, Aaron. You'll have new identities to stay hidden and unsuspecting, and you have to take your missions seriously or you'll risk being sent back to the general population of hell."
"I already got that part," I cleared my throat, the threat landing perfectly. "And I don't know if you read my horrible biography, but I quit working at a strip club two years ago."
"Because you felt like quitting would validate you, make you good enough for Constance." His words were like a needle, hitting a vein. "And how did that turn out for you?"
"I... umm..." I had no comeback. He had me. He knew everything.
"We need the unloved, Aaron. Some people were just built that way. Love is a myth, a stupid theory. It makes you a fool, makes you weak, makes your actions useless. This is who you are chosen to be. You'll never find love... not in this world or the next. You know why? The Creator doesn't love you."
I blinked back hot tears as he chuckled and opened a polished cabinet to pull out a bottle of dark wine. Mark had said the same thing to me, almost word for word. Did he know some cosmic truth? He was right. I was born to a crackhead, raised in an abusive home, got married to an older woman at nineteen, hoping to be responsible, but my then-wife sold me to a strip club for a box of cigarettes.
Then I died at twenty-eight, murdered by my half brother. I was the living, walking interpretation of miserable.
This is my life now, and I'm going to accept it. There was no other path for me. I was going to take my revenge on all of them.
"How do I activate tier one?" The question came out steady, my decision made.
"Perfect," Samael grinned, a flash of genuine pleasure lighting up his harsh features. "Your system will share the details with you. Report here three times a week for your shifts at 12 am. Don't try to do anything funny, Aaron. The Corrupter has eyes everywhere." His eyes went darker, the promise in them unmistakable and terrifying.
"And where do I stay for the rest of the week?"
"You'll continue embodying the real Aaron Maddox. Your system would guide you to his place,"
"Sure," I nod, turning on my heel and leaving the room just as a group of curvy succubi walked past me in the hallway, purring at me with knowing, predatory grins.
I let out a long, shaky sigh as soon as the door closed behind me, the weight of everything finally pressing down. That was entirely unexpected, and my life is officially over. The new one is just beginning.
[Target to Activate Tier One uploaded!] The system dinged cheerfully in my mind, a stark contrast to my turmoil.
[Darcy Grey. Arts professor at Stanbury University.]
[Goal: Expose And Disgrace +6000 WP]