The system's abrupt message left him radiant – he could, in fact, gather nearly any seed for his transcendence. That placed him in an almost limitless position among demons.
He breathed, set the anxiety aside, and decided: he would begin with the First Family – Hunger.
He knew that even among demons who shared the same seed, the variations were virtually infinite.
Almost no one had the same ones: most commanded one, the rarest two. He could possess all seeds and variations… but reality was brutal. Time was a luxury he did not have, and knowing that he had to climb toward transcendence in his current state made him impatient, unwilling to be too ambitious.
He was a prisoner.
Lennon went through the list of Hunger variations.
Since seeds were the primal impulse of a demon's existence, the variations were essentially the domain into which their hunger fit.
He avoided, without hesitation, those that repulsed him – hunger for flesh, cannibalism, madness; things that would make him surrender himself and lose what little remained of his humanity.
With cold resolve, he chose nine variations that would serve him without destroying him completely: memories, time, voices, essence, beauty, echoes, shadow, tongues, and – the rarest of all – eternity.
A pleasant chill surged in his chest. With just the Hunger seed, and these nine branches, he would be unmatched. But he knew that promise was not enough: there were rituals.
Lennon read about rituals.
Even with his towering IQ, he was fascinated and surprised by the sheer amount of details. Each variation demanded its own rituals, precise formulas, and monster materials: blood, bones, skin – long lists of parts and fluids only obtainable by bringing down beasts in the deadliest corners of the forgotten world.
He flipped through the book with urgency and a hunger for knowledge, diving into dense pages that detailed essence stones and monster types.
It was an avalanche of information: names, variations, classifications, hierarchies, the specific uses of each crystal and the creatures that guarded them.
With each line, his mind seemed to expand further, mapping connections, mentally organizing what would drive any other person insane just to memorize.
The book spoke not only of common stones, but also of stones with absurd properties, like the one he had, Vanity – known among demons as VA – capable of encoding scripts, emitting light, and other things he had yet to explore. Each demanded specific conditions to extract, purify, and use in rituals.
And unlike the demons, who had to risk themselves and learn by trial, error, and curiosity, Lennon had a book that gave him all the knowledge he needed – making his fascination only deepen.
As for the monsters… the shock was greater still. He discovered not only that their numbers were nearly infinite, but that each had threat levels, degrees of ferocity, and unique attributes that made all the difference. Many had already crossed his path without him realizing what they were; now he knew their names, their danger levels, and the true weight of what he had already faced.
Focusing on what mattered, he locked into memory: fifteen types of essence stones required for his nine rituals, and a complete list of monster materials. He memorized the names – in his mind, it was already forming a map.
He paused for a moment, letting it sink in. A shiver ran down his spine.
If it weren't for the Awakening of Knowledge, I wouldn't even understand half of this, he thought, a restrained smile tugging at his lips.
He was exhausted, yet curious. The first stage was chosen. Now came the dirty work: hunting, gathering, performing rituals, and not letting what remained of his sanity die along the way.
And, without warning as always, the system's message flared before his eyes like fire in the darkness:
[The bearer gains more perception points, +100.
Your knowledge has reached a new milestone – already admirable even among demons, enough to be considered a Demon Alchemist.]
The impact was immediate. Lennon smiled to himself, enthralled.
Demon alchemy. The idea that there was such an elaborate branch within demon society ignited his curiosity. If alchemy existed, then there was more than chaos – there was structure, rules, hierarchies, a science born of a living hell.
He opened his status window, and what he saw made his heart race:
[Name: Lennon Park]
[Origin: Human]
[Path of Transcendence: Demonic 1.5% / 100% (Reason: due to the pact made with a demon, you can only transcend into another demon)]
[Class: —]
[Title: —]
[Strength: 23]
[Endurance: 23]
[Perception: 157 (+100)]
[Popularity on Earth: 80%]
[Latent Ability Unlocked: 1/10
— Awakening of Knowledge]
He blinked several times, stunned. It wasn't just the brutal leap in perception; the very path of transcendence had advanced on its own.
The realization unsettled him. Something in him had already begun to change.
That was when he felt it.
That dense, suffocating, familiar presence: the demon guardian.
The shock made his body freeze, but his heightened perception was so sharp he could sense every vibration in the space before the being even materialized.
Instead of panic, a faint smile escaped him – a mix of surprise and confidence.
Swiftly, he sealed the crystal and the book within his mind, as if locking away secret vaults.
Chains erupted suddenly, coiling around his body, and the cell door creaked open.
The demon guardian stepped inside, imposing his colossal presence without uttering a word.
He simply yanked Lennon along the chains with silent brutality.
Time there was distorted, impossible to measure. Lennon didn't know if he had been in solitary for hours, days, or weeks.
The doubt gnawed at him, but at the same time reinforced the sensation that he no longer belonged to Earth's rhythm – he was chained to the pulse of something far greater, far darker.
Lennon raised his eyes to the guardian before him.
The creature was tall, its broad back stretching like walls. The black cloak draped over it seemed ancient, worn.
Lennon wondered whether it could ever be washed, or if it forever carried the weight of every prisoner it had dragged.
What intrigued him most was the face. Why did some hide beneath hoods and veils of shadow, while others revealed their grotesque features without shame?
The question hammered at him. Perhaps it was only intimidation – concealment bred mystery, uncertainty, fear. But when his mind recalled the superior demon who had lifted an entire guardian with one arm, Lennon shuddered.
The impact of that scene had broken something inside him: the fear hadn't vanished, but it had transformed. It was no longer blind submission… it was a cold awareness of the abyss he was in.
Time dragged with them.
Until, in the distance, Lennon caught sight of the cafeteria.
A strange calm washed over him.
Grotesque as that place was, the sight of it gave him a sense of pause – a break in the suffocating routine since he had set foot here.
A moment less haunting, almost human.