Devil Slave (Satan system)



All of a sudden, a porcelain hand appeared around the mutated human's neck.

This had taken everyone by surprise.

But all of a sudden, there was a fierce pull, and before Moses's eyes, Lenny tore out the head of the mutated human.

Essentially, he ripped it off from the rest of the body, right from the neck, as if it were not a person but a piece of fabric.

Moses had watched as the skin stretched and then tore out with the muscles.

Lenny's pull had been so vicious that he did not only pull out the neck but also the spine with it.

This was an injury that not even this mutated human could heal from.

Blood and human innards were splattered all over Moses's body.

It was as flooding as one would imagine, but all that blood pouring on his face came with intense relief.

For a moment, Moses could not help but remain lying, where he was breathing heavily.

The corpse of the mutated human lay on him, lifeless.

Moses did not like Lenny very much. Especially after what he did to Victor, throwing the young master into the wastelands. However, he had to admit that the appearance of Lenny was a sight for sore eyes.

However, after managing to catch his breath and the relief from the strain of sure death had finished washing over him, he suddenly remembered that there was someone else in need of help, and that was Victor.

Naturally, he expected that after lending a helping hand to him, Lenny was also going to help Victor. However, when he turned his head, he discovered that was far from the truth.

Instead of helping Victor, Lenny had other ideas.

While Victor looked at him with the eyes of someone who had met his savior, Lenny pretended as if what was happening was not his business.

And the old woman also did not stop with her artwork of Victor's body.

Taking her time, she sewed his mouth shut with her needles. His muffled scream for pain and fear of being like those on the walls was as loud as it could be.

However, Lenny, with no care in the world, thought otherwise.

Lenny did not stop the old woman; instead, he waved his hand, and a couch from the Satan system appeared.

He sat down, relaxing his back on the backrest, and watched like he was seeing his favorite show with half a smile on his face.

"Lenny! What are you doing? Help the young master. Have you forgotten that if he dies, then you will also die?" Moses threatened.

"'IF', that is a very strong word based on condition," Lenny answered without turning back. "If I remember correctly, the old woman is only stitching him up like the others. In other words, by the time she is done," Lenny turned to look at Victor, staring right into his eyes, "he will be like the other pretty things on the wall. Although empty of his eyes, ears, and mouth, he will definitely still be alive."

Moses was shocked by what he had just heard Lenny say.

"No! No!! Don't do this. LENNY!" Moses tried to get up, but his body, very wounded and tired, had lost too much strength, and right now, it was still in a state of recovery.

This was a recovery that would take a very long time.

It was even a pain for him to turn his head; lifting a finger was but a pipe dream.

Blood flowed from every spot that the old woman punctured with her giant needles. However, the old woman did not rush; her old but steady fingers with punctured wounds revealed that she had done this a thousand times.

"Don't worry, little boy. It will soon be over! I'll take care of you like I did the others. Soon, you will become my child, and soon you will join your brothers and sisters."

Meanwhile, for some reason that Victor could not understand, every time the needles pierced into him, he could feel a little bit of his consciousness sleep away.

Whatever was causing this was either in the needles, or it was in the tendon thread she was using, or maybe just her ability. Either way, the sense of who he was slipped away with every penetration of those needles, and it frightened him. It frightened him silly.

Memories he had of his friends and his mother soon started to become blurry.

It was not just fear of becoming like the other alive but slowly decaying and very unfortunate souls that were on the walls, but the realization that he was now slowly losing his own sense of self was an impending doom that loomed over him.

Victor's eyes revealed his beseeching plea. He could no longer talk, and the old woman had now moved her attention to his left eye.

He pleaded with his muffled screams and his expression—a mixture of both his annoyance and hate for Lenny not coming to his rescue.

Lenny, on the other hand, popped a cigarette. It was from the brand that Father Black gifted him.

He popped it into his mouth, and with a lighter from the system, he enjoyed his smoke.

A deep inhale of the smoke, and then a relaxing exhale. As he did this, his eyes, even for a moment, did not leave Victor's.

"Quick question, Victor!" Lenny leaned forward. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" 

Victor raised a brow at this question, "What the fuck does he mean by 'what the fuck am I doing?' I am dying here! Come and save me!!" 

Lenny chuckled lightly. "Let me guess. You are thinking, 'Why hasn't this bastard come to save me?' Well, I hate to break it to you, but I do believe you have misplaced a lot of things. COMMON SENSE is one of them!

Look around you. Where do you think you are, the City of Milk and Honey? This is the fucking Wastelands. Out here, brother eats brother, and mothers get pregnant just to sell off their own babies. What the fuck makes you think you are so special?"

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