Satan screwed him! The world cleared, starting with a poster on the wall over his bed. Idol Frederica Philistine stood amongst a smattering of stars like some giant goddess with blonde hair cascading over her shoulders covering her breasts while a star protected her privates. Her hands stretched her mouth wide to give the viewer a good look at her gullet.
Ok, he wasn't an idiot. Silas had dealt with the devil before he was the angel's brother-in-law until the divorce. His deal sent him far away and gave him a brand-new start, far away from the machinations of his ex-wife.
He pulled his dresser open and saw a collection of shorts and shirts that were hardly out of place in the modern world. Maybe the body he took over had a vore fetish and expressed it with a picture of his favorite waifu. Silas stared into the vast cavern of the woman's gaping maw, from her wide blocky teeth to the way her jaws stretched beyond all limits. A stirring rose in his pants; before he knew it, he was pitching a tent, and he felt the urge to be devoured.
Silas felt his heart palpate as the realization that his body reacted like that beyond his control set in. He tried to summon his system, and nothing happened.
The system was a constant friend for the last few months he spent in the other world. It gave him so many goodies like stats, classes, and traits. He was reincarnated as a leech before, and it took some time to get to an approximation of a human shape.
Silas threw a punch and hurt his elbow. His body didn't instinctively stop before the punch was fully extended. Someone obviously never shadow-boxed before, which wasn't as concerning as the crystals covering his desk, including one with a handprint.
He walked over to his desk and looked back. There were standard amenities like the bed he had been sitting on, a chest at the end of his bed, and a good-sized closet. Then there was a long tube jutting from the ceiling labeled lube in this world's language and a drain in the floor.
A knock on the door shocked him out of his staring. He had been so focused on the tube that he hadn't felt anyone approaching. That's around when it really hit him. He was weaker than any other 16-year-old human male.
Silas pulled at his blonde hair and felt around his forehead above his brows. Nothing! There was no slit for his third eye. What was he going to do?
His feet carried him around the room, and he tripped over the drain and bumped his shin against the bed's metal frame. Pain shot up his leg, and he fell on his bed, clutching his shin. Stats were related to the soul; they couldn't be gone; not even Satan could take those from him. He closed his eyes and focused, they were there, but he wouldn't get them for some time. Maybe he was better off training his body over again.
The dungeon quests gave him numerous fruits that increased his stat potential linked to his soul instead of his body.
The knock turned into a pounding.
"Big brother, you're finally sixteen; let me in." Silas noticed then that an alarm had been blaring since he woke up. So, on instinct or maybe an act of muscle memory, he touched the top of the blocky crystal, making the racket, and everything went quiet. Naomi knocked again.
What was he going to do? His new mind showed him an image of a tiny, sweet-looking girl who snuck him extra food and helped him out with his bullying older sisters. She was their mother's 236
th
youngest girl, and he didn't deserve her attention. So many boys from promising families have offered her their bodies and were gobbled up one after another. His blonde amazon of a sister stood over him in her bra and panties at nearly 7ft.
His eyes widened as some of the pieces fit together. There was a rule in their household imposed by their ancestor, a matriarch with many daughters who became matrons and mothers themselves. Images flashed through his mind almost too fast to keep up with. They were considered off-limits until they turned 16. After that, any girl in Neon City could come after him.
Where had Satan sent him?
Before he could stop himself, a feeling overcame him as a traitorous thought burbled up from his thinking meat. Naomi was here for him. This was beyond his expectations. Sex wasn't an option; he couldn't have that unless he survived the journey and became a hero; only then would he be worthy of mating with a woman. Instead, he could finally partake in the joys of becoming one with a woman's flesh. Naomi tasted his hand once, and it was all she could do to stop him from forcing himself down her throat.