[A/N: I made some major changes in this chapter that you are going to see.]
...
Gary's claws tore through the gray demon's throat before it could even finish its swing.
The creature gurgled, purple blood spraying across the twisted undergrowth. Gary stepped back as it collapsed, already losing interest. He didn't even bother taking a proper stance. The demon had been too slow. Too predictable.
"That's what, twenty today?" Gary muttered, flicking blood off his hand. "Not even noon yet."
The soul rose from the corpse, that familiar faint glow.
Gary grabbed it and absorbed it into his Origin Artifact without ceremony.
Low-Quality Souls (44)
A month. That's how long he'd been hunting in this forest. Thirty days of tracking down demons, testing his techniques, refining his Nanto Seiken. The intermediate forms were nearly mastered now. Gantei Satsu, Dantei Koushou, Ryuugeki Ko, Hishō Hakurei, he could execute them with clean precision and optimized energy output.
The advanced techniques were coming along too. Tensho Juji Ho, Sōryū Tensho; he could perform them, but he still couldn't utilize them to their full potential. His Low-Rank Middle-Tier body could only channel so much IOE at once before risking overload.
But even with that limitation, most fights ended in seconds.
Gary looked down at the dead demon, its body already starting to dissolve into the demonic soil. It seemed that everything in the Abyss was carnivorous.
"Used to be these fights got my blood pumping," he said. "Now it's just damn routine, I need something new."
He walked deeper into the forest, crimson eyes scanning the twisted trees. A month ago, this place had been dangerous. Every shadow could hide an ambush. Every sound could mean death.
Now? He was the apex predator.
His stats had climbed through constant combat and soul essence consumption. Strength 156. Speed 168. He'd burned through a thousand low-quality souls just to advance from Bottom-Tier to Middle-Tier, but it had been worth it. The stat jump had been massive. His safe energy output had nearly doubled.
But not too far ahead, Gary spotted movement. Four demons, smaller ones, clustered around what looked like the corpse of a Demon Boar. They looked up as he approached, tensing.
One hissed, showing fangs.
Gary kept walking, not breaking stride.
The demons scattered.
Smart.
"Not even worth chasing," Gary muttered. Four more low-quality souls wouldn't make a difference. He needed better prey. Stronger opponents. Magic casters if he could find them.
He wanted Mid-Quality souls.
He'd collected seven of them over the past month, all from demons who'd cultivated their power into magic. Fire users, earth manipulators, barrier specialists. Each one had been an actual challenge. Each fight had pushed him, taught him something new.
But they were rare. Most demons in this forest were just base Low-Rank scrappers with no magic, no technique, just claws and instinct.
"Status," Gary said.
The blue screen materialized.
Name: Gary
Race: Demon
Bloodline: At least four different kinds
Demon Name: Valdos Belial Maxim Raizel... Vancouver Gabe
Form: Adult
Hierarchy: Low-Rank (Middle-Tier)
Attribute: Omni
Strength: 156
Speed: 168
Magic Energy: ∞ (Limited by strength and hierarchy)
Skills: Nanto Seiken (Intermediate - Nearing Mastery | Advanced - Practicing)
Talent Ability 1: Soul Peer Talent
Ability 2: Essence of Involate Self
Items: Origin Artifact
Souls in Possession: Mid-Quality Soul (7), Low-Quality Soul (44)
Evaluation: One month of intensive combat and training has produced remarkable results. Strength and speed have more than doubled since hierarchy advancement to Middle-Tier. Nanto Seiken proficiency has progressed from beginner to near-mastery of intermediate forms in record time due to Origin Artifact's Competence function and constant real-world application. Advanced techniques are now executable within safe energy output parameters, though sustained use requires further advancement. Combat experience against magic users has broadened tactical understanding significantly. Recommendation: Seek stronger opponents or advance to Low-Rank Top-Tier for continued growth.
Gary dismissed the screen.
The evaluation was right. He'd plateaued. Not in terms of raw power, he could still improve his technique mastery and maybe squeeze out a few more stat points, but in terms of meaningful growth.
He needed to advance again. Get to Top-Tier. Or find a stronger territory and hunt there.
But something kept him in this area.
Call it instinct. Call it the meta-awareness of someone who'd read way too many isekai novels and knew when a plot point was about to drop.
Gary stopped walking.
He tilted his head, nostrils flaring.
There was something in the air. A scent, faint but distinct. Different from the usual rot and sulfur that permeated the forest. This was... rich. Deep. Like the smell of something precious.
And it made his soul hum.
"What the hell?" Gary murmured.
The aroma was subtle, barely there, but it cut through everything else like a signal flare. His demon instincts responded immediately, an urge rising in his chest. Not the casual interest he had for low-quality soul fragments. This was different. Deeper. More intense.
High-quality soul.
The knowledge came from his inherited demon memories. This was the scent of a soul that actually mattered. Not the fragmented scraps or even the mid-quality souls from magic users. Something better. Something powerful.
Gary's eyes narrowed. "Where's it coming from?"
He turned, following the scent. It was distant, kilometers away at least, but clear enough to track. His body moved on autopilot, feet carrying him through the forest as his mind raced.
He'd never encountered a high-quality soul before. The inheritance memories said they were rare in the upper layers. Most Low-Rank demons spent their entire existence hunting fragments, maybe getting lucky with a mid-quality soul if they killed a magic user.
So why was one here? And why could he smell it from so far away?
Gary picked up speed, his enhanced body cutting through the undergrowth effortlessly. The scent grew stronger as he ran, pulling him forward.
Then he noticed the other demons.
They were moving through the forest in the same direction, drawn by the same scent. Gary counted dozens within sight, all converging on the same point. Some ran on the ground. Others flew overhead.
None of them paid attention to each other. All focus was on reaching the source.
"Okay," Gary said, slowing to a jog. "This is either really good or really bad."
Probably both.
A gathering of demons meant competition. Violence. Gary wasn't weak anymore, he could handle himself, but running blindly into a demon feeding frenzy was still stupid.
He stayed alert as he moved, keeping distance from the other demons. A few glanced his way, sizing him up. Gary's seven-foot frame and confident stride made most look away.
The scent kept getting stronger. Gary's soul vibrated with it now, an almost physical pull that made his claws itch. His demon instincts were screaming at him to run faster, get there first, claim the prize.
He pushed the instinct down. "Not gonna lose my shit over a smell."
The forest thinned ahead. Twisted trees gave way to rocky terrain, volcanic stone jutting up from the ground. Heat waves rolled across the landscape.
Gary crested a rise and stopped.
An extinct volcano.
It sat in the distance like a massive broken tooth, its peak shattered and hollow. The scent poured out of the crater. Dozens of demons were diving into it, all rushing toward that opening.
"Of course it's a volcano," Gary said.
He watched the other demons for a moment, studying their behavior. They weren't fighting yet. Everyone was too focused on reaching the source. That would change once they got inside and realized there was only one prize.
Gary started toward the volcano, slower now, more deliberate. His combat instincts kicked in, analyzing the situation.
Best case? He got there, grabbed the soul, got out before the bloodbath.
Worst case? He walked into a massacre and had to fight through hundreds of demons.
And the most likely answer? Somewhere in between.
"Alright Valdos," Gary said, using his demon name like a mental switch. "Let's see what this is about."
He broke into a run, heading for the crater.
Other demons around him did the same, a stampede of mismatched forms all racing toward the same goal. Gary kept pace easily, his optimized body outrunning most of them. The crater rim appeared ahead, a jagged circle of volcanic rock surrounding darkness below.
Demons were pouring over the edge, dropping into the interior.
Gary reached the rim and looked down.
The inside of the volcano opened into a massive hollow space, easily the size of a football stadium. And at the bottom, surrounded by hundreds of demons already fighting each other, was something that made Gary's breath catch.
An altar.
Artificial. Carved. Deliberate.
And it was glowing with active magic.
"Holy shit," Gary breathed.
Then he jumped.
The fall was maybe a hundred feet. Gary's body handled it easily, landing in a crouch on the volcanic stone floor. Around him, the sound of combat filled the air. Demons tearing into each other, claws and fangs and desperate violence.
But Gary's eyes were locked on the altar.
Because that's where the scent was coming from.
And he needed to know why.
Gary immediately moved to the side, getting out of the way as more demons dropped from above. The impact zone was a cluster of bodies, everyone landing and immediately scrambling toward the altar.
Smart demons moved to the edges. Stupid ones got trampled.
Gary positioned himself near a large outcropping of rock, using it as cover while he surveyed the situation. His eyes took in everything. The layout. The demons. The altar itself.
The hollow interior of the volcano was massive. Walls of dark volcanic stone rose up on all sides, rough and jagged, with the crater opening visible far above. Red light filtered down from somewhere, probably reflected magma glow from active volcanoes nearby. It gave everything a hellish tint.
And at the center of it all, raised on a platform of carved stone, was the altar.
Gary stared at it.
He'd known it would be here. He'd read about it in the original novel. Roy had found a Gate of the Abyss altar, fought over the summoning offerings, learned how the system worked.
But knowing something intellectually and seeing it in person were two completely different things.
"It's real," Gary muttered. "It's actually fucking real."
The altar was huge. The base platform was maybe ten feet high and at least fifty feet across, like a small stage. Carved steps led up to the top, worn smooth from who knew how many years of use. The stone itself was different from the surrounding volcanic rock. Darker. Denser. Almost black, with a weird reflective quality that made it look wet even though it was dry.
Someone had built this. Deliberately and with a purpose.
And it sure as hell wasn't the Low-Rank demons currently tearing each other apart around it.
Gary's eyes tracked the fighting. Hundreds of demons, all shapes and sizes, locked in savage combat. The scent of the high-quality soul had driven them into a frenzy. They weren't fighting with strategy or technique. Just pure animal violence.
Purple blood pooled on the stone floor. Bodies piled up. Souls rose from the corpses and were immediately grabbed by whoever was closest.
"Chaos," Gary said. "Complete fucking chaos."
He stayed where he was, back against the rock outcropping, watching. His demonic instincts were screaming at him to join the fight, to claim the offering, but his human mind knew better.
At most, rushing in blindly would get him killed. Or at minimum, it would waste energy fighting through a hundred demons when he didn't even know what he was fighting for yet.
Better to observe. Learn the pattern. Figure out what was actually happening.
Gary's eyes went back to the altar.
The top surface had a magic formation carved into it. He could see it glowing faintly even from this distance. The formation was circular, taking up most of the platform, with intricate lines and symbols etched into the stone. At the center was a six-pointed star, and inside that was a drawing of something that looked like a snake eating its own tail.
"Ouroboros," Gary said, recognizing the symbol. "Classic demon imagery."
The formation pulsed with light, rhythmic, like a heartbeat. And with each pulse, that rich aroma of a high-quality soul intensified.
But Gary didn't see a soul anywhere. The altar platform was empty. No glowing orb. No physical object. Nothing but the formation itself.
"Where's the soul?" Gary murmured. "The scent's coming from the altar, but there's nothing there."
Movement to his left.
Gary turned just as a demon lunged at him.
It was a scrappy thing, maybe five feet tall, with mottled green skin and too many limbs. It had probably noticed Gary standing alone and figured he was an easy target.
Gary didn't bother with a stance. He just moved.
Gessai.
His hand shot forward, fingers extended like a spear, and punched straight through the demon's chest. IOE flowed through the strike naturally, his claws cutting through flesh and bone like paper.
The demon gurgled. Gary pulled his hand free and let it drop.
The soul rose. Gary grabbed it and absorbed it without looking.
Low-Quality Souls (45)
"Waste of time," Gary muttered, flicking purple blood off his claws.
Another demon noticed the kill. This one was bigger, maybe seven feet, same height as Gary. Humanoid build, dark red skin, horns curving back from its skull. Hey, maybe this would be what Gary would look like if he didn't have cheats.
It charged.
Gary sighed, tired of these blood lusted fools.
Rekkyaku.
A rising kick caught the demon under the jaw. Gary's IOE-enhanced claws on his foot tore through its throat on the way up. The demon's head snapped back, vertebrae shattering.
It collapsed.
Low-Quality Souls (46)
"Anyone else?" Gary said in the demonic tongue, loud enough for the nearby demons to hear.
A few looked his way. Saw the two corpses. Saw Gary's relaxed stance and the confidence in his eyes.
They turned back to fighting each other.
Smart.
Gary returned his attention to the altar.
Now that he had a moment to really look at it, he could see more details. The magic formation wasn't just decorative. It was functional. Active. The lines glowed with power, pulsing in a steady rhythm. Around the outer edge of the circle were symbols that looked like text. Demon language, probably, though Gary couldn't read it from this distance.
Between the six points of the star were small indentations in the stone. They looked deliberate, like spaces meant to hold something. Objects? Offerings? Gary couldn't tell.
The whole thing hummed with energy. Not loud, but a low vibration that Gary could feel in his bones even from forty feet away.
"This is old," Gary said. "Really old. This thing's been here for... what, thousands of years? Tens of thousands?... fuck my earlier assumption, this thing might have been here for over a trillion years."
The inherited memories didn't have information about the Gates of the Abyss. That knowledge was above Low-Rank demon clearance, apparently. But Gary had his limited knowledge of the novel.
These altars connected the Abyss to other worlds. When someone in another dimension performed a demon summoning ritual, offering something valuable, the Gates of the Abyss would activate. The offering would appear as a scent, drawing demons to fight over it. The winner would step onto the altar and get teleported to the summoner's world.
The offering itself never actually appeared in the Abyss. It was the bait. The lure. The demons fought for the right to answer the summon and claim the prize on the other side.
"So the high-quality soul..." Gary said slowly, "isn't here. It's wherever the summoner is. We're just smelling it through dimensional bullshit."
That made sense.
But it also meant Gary had been drawn here by a prize he couldn't actually claim unless he won the battle and accepted the summon.
"Fucking typical," Gary muttered.
Still, this was valuable information. The Gates of the Abyss were a way out of the Abyss. A way to reach other worlds. Other dimensions. Places with different resources, different enemies, different opportunities for growth.
Gary had known they existed from reading the novel, but finding one this early was lucky.
More demons dropped from the crater opening above, adding to the chaos. The fighting intensified. Bodies piled higher. The strongest demons were starting to push toward the altar steps.
Gary watched one particularly large demon, maybe ten feet tall with four arms and a tail covered in spikes. It was crushing smaller demons with brute force, literally throwing them into walls and stomping on their skulls.
[A/N: Imagine a combination between Ultimate Humangasaur and Four-Arms]
"That one's winning," Gary said.
Another demon, this one with insectoid features and blade-like limbs, was cutting through the crowd with lethal precision. It moved fast, striking and retreating, accumulating kills without taking damage.
"That one's smart."
The two powerhouses were on opposite sides of the altar, working their way toward the steps. They'd meet in the middle eventually, and that fight would probably determine the winner.
Gary had no intention of competing.
Not because he couldn't win. With his stats and Nanto Seiken mastery, he could probably take both of those demons. But it would cost energy he didn't want to use. It would draw attention. And he'd have to accept the summon immediately after winning, which meant going to an unknown world unprepared.
"Not worth it," Gary said. "Not for one high-quality soul."
Better to observe. Learn how the system worked. Figure out the timing and frequency of summons. Then he could plan properly, prepare, and take advantage of the Gates when it actually made strategic sense.
Movement to his right.
Three demons this time, working together. They'd seen Gary kill the previous two and decided to team up.
Gary's eyes narrowed.
The first demon rushed from the front. The second circled left. The third went right, trying to flank.
Basic tactics. Predictable.
Gary waited until they committed, then moved.
Senshu Ken.
Gary's body became a whirlwind. He spun, claws extended, cutting in a full circle. IOE blazed along his hands, extending his reach beyond the physical.
All three demons ran into the spinning death trap.
Gary's claws carved through flesh. Limbs separated from bodies. Purple blood sprayed in arcs.
Three dismembered corpses hit the ground simultaneously.
Low-Quality Souls (49)
"I'm trying to watch here," Gary said to no one in particular. "Stop fucking interrupting."
The demons near him gave him a wide berth after that.
Good.
The battle was reaching its peak. Most of the weaker demons were dead. Only about twenty fighters remained, and half of those were injured badly enough that they'd be picked off soon.
Four-Arms and the insectoid were converging on the altar from opposite sides, crushing the competition as they moved.
Gary watched Four-Arms intercept a fire-using demon. The smaller demon shot a gout of flame directly at Four-Arms's face. The big demon tanked it. Walked straight through the fire, grabbed the caster, and ripped it in half vertically.
"Tough bastard," Gary muttered, genuinely impressed. Most demons would've at least flinched from a direct fire attack like that.
The insectoid was being more surgical. It danced around a demon with stone manipulation powers, letting the enemy waste energy raising barriers and throwing rocks. Then, when the stone demon overextended on a throw, the insectoid's blade limb shot forward and took its head off in one clean strike.
"And that one's got speed," Gary said.
Both powerhouses reached the altar steps at almost the same time.
They paused, sizing each other up.
The remaining demons in the volcano had stopped fighting. Everyone was watching now, waiting to see which of these two would claim the prize.
Gary leaned forward, interested despite himself.
Four-Arms made the first move. It charged up the steps, all four arms extended, trying to grab the insectoid and tear it apart like it had done to a dozen other demons.
The insectoid didn't meet the charge head-on. Instead, it jumped, its segmented body coiling and then springing upward. It cleared Four-Arms completely and landed on the altar platform.
Smart. Go for the objective, not the fight.
But Four-Arms was faster than it looked. The spiked tail whipped around, caught the insectoid mid-landing, and slammed it back down onto the steps.
The impact cracked stone.
The insectoid recovered instantly, blade limbs flashing. It targeted Four-Arms's joints, trying to cripple the bigger demon's mobility.
Four-Arms roared and grabbed one of the insectoid's limbs. There was a sickening crack as bone shattered. The insectoid screeched.
"That's gonna leave a mark," Gary said.
The fight moved up the steps, both demons trading blows. The insectoid was faster, landing three strikes for every one of Four-Arms's attacks. But Four-Arms was tankier, absorbing damage that should've killed it.
They reached the platform together.
The insectoid's blade limbs carved deep gashes across Four-Arms's torso. Purple blood sprayed across the magic formation, soaking into the carved symbols.
Four-Arms grabbed the insectoid with two hands and lifted it overhead. Then it slammed the insectoid down onto the platform so hard the entire altar shook.
The insectoid's exoskeleton cracked. It tried to stab upward with its remaining functional limbs.
Four-Arms caught both blades, held them, and then simply pulled.
The insectoid's limbs tore free from its body.
"Fuck," Gary said while grinning. "This is entertaining."
The insectoid was still alive, thrashing, screeching. Four-Arms planted one massive foot on its thorax and used its four arms to grip the insectoid's head and lower body.
Then it pulled in opposite directions.
The insectoid came apart.
Purple blood and internal organs spilled across the altar platform. The insectoid's soul rose, a faint mid-quality glow.
Four-Arms grabbed it and ate it immediately.
The big demon stood there on the platform, breathing hard, covered in its own blood and the blood of its opponent. It raised all four arms and roared in triumph.
The remaining demons in the volcano fell silent.
The winner had been decided.
Four-Arms turned toward the magic formation, stepping fully onto the glowing symbols.
Gary watched, grinning, waiting for the moment he knew was coming.
The demons below were still watching the platform, expecting the high-quality soul to appear. Waiting for Four-Arms to claim some physical prize.
But Gary knew better.
"No soul's gonna show up," he said quietly. "Because it was never here."
Right on cue, the altar flared bright.
The magic formation's glow intensified, the pulsing rhythm accelerating. The carved symbols blazed with power. And from the center of the six-pointed star, black mist began to rise.
It poured out like smoke, swirling around Four-Arms's legs, climbing up its body. The demon looked down, confused, as the mist enveloped it completely.
The other demons watching from below started murmuring. Some in confusion. Some in alarm.
Gary just smiled.
Four-Arms's body began to blur. Its solid form became translucent, like it was turning into a ghost. The black mist grew thicker, completely obscuring the demon from view.
Then, in the span of maybe three seconds, Four-Arms vanished.
Completely.
Gone.
The black mist dissipated. The altar's glow dimmed back to its original rhythmic pulse.
And the scent of the high-quality soul disappeared.
The volcano interior erupted in confused noise. Demons were chittering, hissing, roaring. Some in demon language Gary couldn't understand. Others just making sounds of frustration and bewilderment.
They didn't get it. They'd fought, they'd killed, they'd watched the strongest among them claim victory, and then... nothing. No soul. No prize. Just the winner vanishing into thin air.
Gary laughed.
He couldn't help it. The sheer confusion on some of these demons' faces was too good.
"You idiots," Gary said, still chuckling. "You fought for the right to answer a summon. Four-Arms just got teleported to another world. That's where the soul is. That's where the prize is. You were never gonna see it here."
Of course, none of the demons could hear him. And even if they could, most wouldn't understand.
But Gary understood. And that knowledge was valuable.
"Gate of the Abyss," Gary muttered, looking at the altar with new appreciation. "Teleportation system connecting the Abyss to other worlds. Someone out there performed a summoning ritual, offered a high-quality soul as payment, and this altar activated in response. The demons fight for the right to answer. Winner gets transported to the summoner's location and claims the offering there."
It was exactly like the novel described. Roy had figured this out through observation and interrogation. Gary had the advantage of already knowing.
The remaining demons in the volcano were starting to disperse. Some flew back up through the crater opening. Others wandered toward exit tunnels carved into the walls. A few stubborn ones stayed, probably hoping another summon would trigger soon.
Gary stayed too. He wanted to see how frequent these activations were.
The answer came faster than expected.
Maybe five minutes after Four-Arms vanished, the altar started pulsing again.
Different rhythm this time. The glow had a slightly different color, more amber than red.
And a new scent filled the air.
Not a high-quality soul. This one was weaker. Mid-quality, maybe low-tier mid-quality based on the intensity.
But it was another summon. Already. Less than ten minutes after the previous one.
"Holy shit," Gary breathed. "These things trigger constantly."
More demons were arriving, drawn by the new scent. Some were the ones who'd just left, doubling back when they smelled fresh opportunity. Others were new arrivals, probably from other parts of the forest who'd caught the scent.
The battle started again. Smaller this time, fewer demons competing. But just as brutal.
Gary watched them fight, his mind racing. This changed everything.
Gary lost track of time after the first dozen summons. The Abyss didn't have a day-night cycle, just constant red ambient light from distant magma flows and the occasional darker period when the atmospheric haze thickened. Time was measured in fights, in kills, in souls absorbed.
But Gary didn't need a clock to know he'd been here for hours.
Because he'd watched at least twenty summons activate.
Twenty separate instances of the altar glowing, demons fighting, winners vanishing into black mist.
And the pattern was becoming clear.
"Okay," Gary muttered, leaning against his rock outcropping. "Let's break this down."
Summon frequency was the first thing he'd noticed. The altar didn't rest. As soon as one demon teleported away, the formation would go dormant for maybe five to fifteen minutes. Then it would activate again with a new scent, a new offering, a new battle.
"Someone's always summoning," Gary said. "Multiple worlds, multiple summoners, all using demon summoning rituals at different times. The altar's just... connecting to whoever's calling."
Made sense. If the Gates of the Abyss could reach countless dimensions, there'd be a constant stream of summons from different sources. Earth alone probably had dozens of demon-summoning cults doing their thing. Multiply that across infinite realities and you had a never-ending queue.
The second pattern was offering quality.
Not all summons were equal.
Gary had tracked it mentally. About half the summons had been low-quality soul scents. These barely attracted any demons. Maybe a dozen fighters at most, usually weaker ones who couldn't compete for better prizes. The battles were quick, brutal, and the winners were often injured enough that Gary wondered if they'd survive whatever waited on the other side.
"Low-quality offerings probably mean desperate summoners," Gary reasoned. "People with nothing to offer but the bare minimum. Poor cultists, random idiots who found a ritual online, maybe even accidental summons."
Mid-quality offerings were more common. Maybe a third of the summons fell into this category. These attracted more demons, usually thirty to fifty fighters. The battles lasted longer. The winners were generally stronger, smarter, or just luckier.
"Mid-tier summons are probably your standard demon deals," Gary said. "Cultists with resources. Mages who know what they're doing. People offering actual payment for demon services."
High-quality soul scents were rare. Gary had only seen three in all the time he'd been watching. But when they happened, the volcano filled with demons. Hundreds of them, drawn from across the forest, all converging for a chance at a real prize.
The fights were savage. The winners were always experienced fighters, demons who'd clearly been alive for years, maybe decades. Low-Rank Top-Tier at minimum, possibly even some Middle-Rank demons who'd come up from deeper Abyss layers specifically for this.
"High-quality means serious summoners," Gary concluded. "Rich organizations. Powerful mages. Maybe even governments or corporate entities in modern worlds. Those are the summons worth competing for."
But there was a third pattern, one that took Gary a while to notice.
Variety.
The scents weren't just quality-differentiated. They had... flavors. Undertones. Each summon felt slightly different even when the quality was similar.
Gary closed his eyes during one mid-quality summon, really focusing on the scent.
There was the base soul fragrance, that rich sweetness all souls had. But underneath it were other notes. Something metallic. Something that reminded him of ozone. Something that felt cold despite the volcanic heat.
"Different worlds," Gary realized. "The offerings come with a signature. A dimensional fingerprint. I can smell where they're from."
That was huge.
If Gary could differentiate between worlds based on scent, he could choose his summons strategically. Avoid dangerous dimensions. Target worlds with resources he needed. Build a mental catalog of where different scents led.
"Fucking brilliant," Gary muttered.
He watched another summon activate. This one had a low-quality scent with undertones of... rot? Decay? Something organic and wrong.
Ten demons fought over it. A scraggly nightmare of a demon with too many mouths won and vanished.
"Yeah, that one's going somewhere shitty," Gary said. "Zombie world maybe. Or some kind of plague dimension. No thank you."
The next summon had a mid-quality scent with a sharp, electric undertone. Clean. Almost sterile.
"Sci-fi world," Gary guessed. "Or at least technologically advanced."
Thirty demons competed. A sleek, fast demon with crystalline skin won.
Gary filed the scent signature away in his memory. That might be worth investigating later.
Between summons, demons would occasionally notice Gary standing alone and decide he looked like easy prey.
They were always wrong.
A demon with acid spit attacked him during a lull. Gary killed it with Hiei Ken, multiple rapid strikes that turned it into chunks before it could spit.
Low-Quality Souls (50)
Two demons tried to team up on him during another quiet period. Gary used Ryuugeki Ko, a horizontal cutting wave that bisected both of them simultaneously.
Low-Quality Souls (52)
"I'm conducting research here," Gary said after the second pair. "Very important scientific observation. Stop fucking with me."
The demons learned. After a while, Gary's corner of the volcano became a no-go zone. Nobody approached him. Nobody bothered him.
Good.
He went back to watching.
Gary was analyzing his thirty-fourth observed summon when something different happened. The crystalline-armored demon had just won a mid-quality offering and vanished into the black mist. The altar went dormant like usual, the glow fading to its baseline pulse.
Gary was getting ready to settle in for the next activation when the formation flared bright again.
"That was fast," Gary muttered. "Maybe two minutes since the last one."
But something was off.
The glow wasn't the normal reddish-amber of an activation. It was darker. Almost black, with purple undertones. And instead of a new scent filling the air, there was... nothing. No offering signature. No soul fragrance.
The magic formation pulsed rapidly, symbols blazing with power.
Black mist erupted from the center.
Gary leaned forward, interested. This wasn't a new summon. This was something else.
The mist swirled, coalescing into a shape. A body. Something large materializing on the altar platform.
The mist cleared.
A demon appeared.
Gary's eyes narrowed. "Returning summon."
The demon was old. Gary could tell immediately from the horn rings, the scarring, the way it carried itself. This thing had been alive for decades, maybe longer. It was humanoid, about eight feet tall, with thick leathery skin covered in old wounds. Four arms, just like the demon Gary had watched vanish earlier, though this wasn't the same one. Its tail was shorter, ending in a club-like mass of bone.
And it was fucked up.
The demon was bleeding from multiple wounds. Deep gashes across its torso. Burns along its arms. One leg looked broken, bent at an angle that made Gary wince. Purple blood dripped onto the altar platform, soaking into the carved symbols.
The old demon stumbled forward, off the formation, and collapsed at the base of the altar steps.
"Well," Gary said quietly. "That doesn't look like a successful summon."
The other demons in the volcano, maybe twenty of them waiting for the next activation, noticed the injured demon immediately. A few started moving toward it, probably smelling easy prey.
Gary moved faster.
He crossed the distance in seconds, his enhanced speed carrying him to the altar before anyone else could reach it. He landed at the base of the steps, directly between the injured demon and the approaching scavengers.
Gary looked at them. Let them see his height, his muscle mass, the confidence in his stance.
"Mine," Gary said in demon language. The word came out rough, his pronunciation still not perfect, but understandable.
The other demons hesitated.
One, braver or stupider than the rest, kept approaching. It was about Gary's size, with gray skin and oversized claws.
Gary didn't even get into a stance. He just moved.
Gessai.
His hand punched through the gray demon's chest before it could react. Gary pulled his hand free and let the corpse drop.
Low-Quality Souls (54)
"Anyone else?" Gary asked, still in demon language.
The other demons backed off.
Gary turned to the injured demon lying at the base of the steps. It was conscious, breathing hard, clutching its wounds. Its eyes tracked Gary's movement.
"You," Gary said, crouching down to the demon's level. "Talk. Now."
The old demon's eyes widened. It started to say something, probably a refusal or a threat, but Gary interrupted by drawing one claw across the stone floor. The sound was sharp, deliberate. Sparks flew from the friction.
"I can kill you easily," Gary said, keeping his voice calm. "You're injured. Weak. I want information. You give me information, maybe I let you crawl away and heal. You refuse, I end you here and take your soul. Simple choice."
The old demon stared at him for a long moment.
Then it spoke, voice rasping. "What... do you want to know?"
Gary grinned. "Everything. Start with the summon. Where did you go? What happened?"
The demon coughed, purple blood flecking its lips. "Human world. City with tall buildings. Metal everywhere. The summoner was... a cult. Young humans playing with rituals they didn't understand."
"What was the offering?" Gary asked.
"Mid-quality soul," the demon said. "A sacrifice. They killed someone and offered the soul as payment for a demon to do their bidding."
"And you accepted."
"I won the fight. Stepped on the Gate. Appeared in their ritual circle." The demon coughed again. "They wanted me to kill a rival cult leader. Simple assassination."
Gary tilted his head. "So what went wrong?"
"The rival had protection," the demon growled. "Wards. Blessed weapons. A priest with holy water. The summoners didn't mention any of that. They just said 'kill this person' and expected me to handle it."
"And you couldn't."
"I completed the contract," the demon snapped, some pride bleeding through the pain. "Killed the target. But the priest got involved. The fight was... difficult. I barely made it back to the ritual circle to trigger the return."
Gary nodded slowly, processing. That matched what he knew from the novel. Summons were contracts. Demons appeared, did the job, claimed the offering, and returned. But if the job went bad, you could get killed on the other side.
"How long were you there?" Gary asked.
"Three days," the demon said. "Time moves the same in most human worlds as it does here. The summoners gave me a deadline. Complete the task within a week or the contract breaks and I'd be stranded."
"Stranded?" Gary's eyes sharpened. "Explain."
The demon shifted, wincing from its injuries. "The Gate only stays connected while the contract is active. You have to complete the task and return to the ritual circle within the time limit. If you fail, or if the summoners die, or if the circle gets destroyed, the connection breaks. You're stuck in that world until you can find another way back."
"Or you die there," Gary said.
"Or you die there," the demon confirmed.
Gary sat back on his heels, thinking. This was critical information. The Gates weren't just free transportation to other worlds. They were contract-based. Time-limited. With real consequences for failure.
"What about the offering?" Gary asked. "When do you get paid?"
"After completing the task," the demon said. "The soul is released from the ritual's hold. You absorb it, trigger the return sequence, and the Gate brings you back here."
"And if you die before completing the task?"
"The soul returns to the Abyss' natural cycle. The summoner wasted their offering." The demon coughed again. "That's why most demons don't take summons they can't handle. Better to let someone stronger answer than to die for nothing."
Gary nodded. That made sense. It was risk versus reward. High-quality offerings attracted strong demons because the prize was worth the danger. Low-quality offerings got desperate or weak demons who had nothing to lose.
"How many times have you been summoned?" Gary asked.
The old demon's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
Gary drew his claw across the stone again. More sparks. "Answer the question."
The demon grimaced. "Twelve times. Successfully returned from all of them before this one."
"And this was the worst?"
"Third worst," the demon admitted. "First worst was a hell dimension with actual Hell Lords. Second worst was a divine realm with angels. This was third because the summoners were idiots who didn't do proper reconnaissance."
Gary filed that away. Experienced demons learned to read summons, to gauge the risk before accepting. They probably had their own methods for determining which offerings were worth it.
The old demon went on to explain the mechanics Gary already knew from the novel. The Gates were ancient, built by unknown hands. They connected to any world that summoned demons. There were hundreds of them scattered across the Abyss. Each offering had dimensional signatures that experienced demons could read.
Valuable intelligence, but nothing that changed Gary's fundamental understanding.
"Last question," Gary said. "The offerings. Are they always souls?"
"Mostly," the demon replied. "Souls are the standard payment. But sometimes summoners offer other things. Magic items. Knowledge. Territory in their world. Blood sacrifices. Anything with power can be an offering."
"And you can smell the difference?"
The old demon looked at Gary with something like respect. "You noticed that. Yeah. Each offering has a signature. You learn to read them over time. Souls smell sweet. Magic items smell like ozone. Knowledge offerings smell like... dust and ink. Blood smells like copper."
"And different worlds smell different."
"Yes. Experienced demons can tell what kind of world they're being summoned to just from the scent. Human worlds smell clean. Hell dimensions smell like sulfur and brimstone. Divine realms smell like flowers and sunlight, which is why smart demons avoid them."
Gary grinned. Everything the demon said matched his observations and confirmed his theories.
"Useful," Gary said. "Very useful."
The old demon seemed to relax slightly, probably thinking it had bought itself mercy with information.
It was wrong.
Gary stood up. "One more thing. You're injured. Weak. Your soul's damaged from the failed summon."
The demon's eyes widened. "Wait. I told you everything. You said—"
"I said maybe I'd let you crawl away," Gary interrupted. "I didn't promise."
"You—"
Gary's hand shot down. Gessai. Straight through the demon's skull.
The old demon died instantly.
Its soul rose, glowing faintly. Low-quality, just as Gary expected. The injuries and soul damage from the summon had degraded it.
Gary grabbed it anyway and absorbed it into his Origin Artifact.
Low-Quality Souls (55)
"Information was useful," Gary said to the corpse. "But you're still a soul fragment. And I need every advantage I can get."
Gary stayed in the volcano for several more hours, watching additional summons activate and cataloging the patterns. By the time he decided he had enough data, the altar had processed forty-three summons total. Forty-three separate instances of demons being teleported to other worlds. Forty-three opportunities for growth that he'd observed but not taken.
Yet.
He finally pushed off from his rock outcropping and started walking toward one of the exit tunnels carved into the volcanic walls. A few demons glanced his way, but nobody tried to stop him. They'd seen him kill enough attackers to know better.
Gary climbed out of the volcano interior and emerged into the twisted forest. The red ambient light of the Abyss felt almost normal now compared to the concentrated chaos inside that crater.
He started walking, heading back toward his tree hollow territory. His mind was already organizing everything he'd learned, sorting the information into useful categories.
"Alright," Gary said to himself. "Let's break this down properly."
First: The Gates of the Abyss were a growth accelerator.
That was the fundamental truth. Every summon was an opportunity to gain resources, fight new enemies, learn new skills, and claim offerings that would make him stronger. The old demon had done twelve summons and survived eleven successfully. Each one had given him souls, items, or knowledge.
Roy, in the original novel, had used the Gates constantly. It was how he'd advanced so fast, how he'd gathered enough souls to fuel his creation system, how he'd learned about different worlds and their power structures.
Gary needed to do the same.
But smarter.
"Roy went into summons blind sometimes," Gary muttered, remembering the novel. "Got himself into shitty situations because he didn't have enough intel. I've got an advantage. I can observe first. Learn the patterns. Choose my targets."
Second: The system had exploitable mechanics.
Gary had identified several key points:
Quality variation meant he could be selective. Low-quality summons were trash. Mid-quality were decent. High-quality were worth fighting for.
Dimensional signatures in the scent meant he could identify world types before committing. Avoid holy worlds. Target magic-rich dimensions. Skip obvious death traps.
Items and knowledge could be brought back. That meant every summon was potentially multiple rewards, not just the offering itself.
Early return was possible if properly executed, though risky.
"I can game this," Gary said. "Treat it like farming. Target specific world types. Build a circuit of profitable summons. Return with resources, get stronger, tackle harder summons."
Third: This synergized perfectly with his Origin Artifact.
Gary stopped walking and pulled up his status screen, looking at his abilities.
The Essence of Competence gave him super-fast learning. Any knowledge he encountered in other worlds, any skills, any techniques, he could absorb them immediately. One summon to a magic world could give him entire spell systems. One trip to a cultivation dimension could teach him chi manipulation.
The Infinite Omniversal Energy meant he'd never run out of power on summons. Other demons had to manage their reserves carefully, ration their strength. Gary could fight at full capacity indefinitely. That was a massive advantage in prolonged missions.
The Essence of Involate Self protected him from the biggest danger: binding contracts. Summoners couldn't trap him, couldn't force him into eternal servitude, couldn't manipulate his soul. He could negotiate from a position of strength.
"I'm built for this system," Gary realized. "More than Roy was. More than any demon was."
His Nanto Seiken gave him combat effectiveness. His optimized physique gave him physical dominance. His meta-knowledge from reading the novel gave him strategic awareness.
He just needed to use it all correctly.
Fourth: He needed a plan.
Gary reached his tree hollow and climbed inside. The space was cramped for his adult body, but functional. He'd carved it larger over the past month, turned it into a proper shelter.
He sat down and started thinking strategically.
"Short-term goals," Gary said. "Get to Low-Rank Top-Tier. That's maybe another week of hunting, absorbing souls, pushing my hierarchy up one more level. That'll give me better stats, higher energy throughput, safer execution of advanced Nanto Seiken techniques. I should also learn something new."
Once he hit Top-Tier, he'd be competitive for mid-quality summons. Not the best demon there, but strong enough to have a real chance at winning. Strong enough to survive whatever waited on the other side.
"Mid-term goals. Start participating in summons. Target mid-quality offerings with favorable dimensional signatures. Magic worlds preferably. Places where I can learn spells, gather magical items, claim knowledge that'll make the Origin Artifact even more powerful."
Each successful summon would give him resources. Souls to consume for hierarchy advancement. Items to use or study. Knowledge to absorb. He'd build a positive feedback loop, each summon making him stronger for the next one.
"Long-term goals. Work toward Middle-Rank. That's the real threshold. Middle-Rank demons can access the lower layers of the Abyss, can participate in high-quality summons without getting crushed, can negotiate with powerful summoners on equal footing."
Middle-Rank was probably months away. Maybe longer. But it was achievable.
Gary had infinite stamina, infinite energy, and infinite learning potential. Time was on his side.
"Strategy for summons," Gary continued, organizing his thoughts. "First rule: Never take a summon blind. Always observe the scent signature first. Identify the world type. Assess the danger level."
He'd seen what happened to demons who rushed in unprepared. The old demon had survived twelve summons but died on what should have been a simple modern-world assassination. Basic human technology and blessed weapons. Deadly if you didn't expect it.
"Second rule: Bring advantages. If I'm going to a magic world, prepare anti-magic counters. If it's a tech world, learn about weapons and tactics. Use the Origin Artifact to study each dimension type before I go."
The Artifact could give him knowledge on demand. He could spend a subject slot on "modern firearms tactics" or "magical defensive theory" or "cultivation world etiquette." Whatever he needed for each specific summon.
"Third rule: Always have an exit strategy. The old demon said you can force early returns. I need to learn that ritual. Practice it. Make sure I can bail out if things go wrong."
The Essence of Involate Self would help with that. His freedom protection would probably make forced returns easier, safer. But he still needed to know the actual mechanism.
"Fourth rule: Maximize every summon. Don't just claim the offering and leave. Explore. Learn. Gather intel. Every world is a source of knowledge and resources. Treat each trip like a research expedition, not just a smash-and-grab."
That would take discipline. Other demons rushed in, claimed their prize, and left as fast as possible. Gary would need to be more methodical. More thorough.
But that's what would separate him from the competition.
"And fifth rule," Gary said, his voice hardening. "Never trust the summoner. The old demon got trapped because he believed the cultists. They promised payment and delivered a kill team instead. Assume every summon is a potential trap. Stay alert. Stay ready to fight."
The Essence of Involate Self would protect him from binding contracts, but it wouldn't protect him from bullets or magic attacks. He'd need to rely on his combat skills and tactical awareness for that.
Gary leaned back against the tree hollow wall, feeling satisfied with his plan.
It was solid. Conservative enough to keep him alive. Aggressive enough to maximize growth. Flexible enough to adapt to new information.
"But I'm not ready yet," Gary admitted. "I need more power first. And I need more observation data."
He'd go back to the volcano tomorrow. Watch another few dozen summons. Build a more complete catalog of dimensional signatures. Identify the most common world types, the most dangerous scent profiles, the most profitable offerings.
Then he'd spend a week hunting. Push to Top-Tier. Refine his Nanto Seiken to full intermediate mastery. Maybe even get his advanced techniques to a functional level.
And then, once he was ready, once he had enough data and enough power...
Gary would take his first summon.
"Probably something safe," Gary mused. "Mid-quality offering with a magic signature. Fantasy world with swords and sorcery. Simple mission, clear objectives, reasonable risk."
He'd complete it. Claim his payment. Return to the Abyss stronger than when he left.
And then he'd do it again. And again. Building momentum. Accumulating power.
"Roy did this for years," Gary said. "Went from Low-Rank to Demon King through strategic use of the Gates. I'm gonna do the same thing."
But faster.
Because Gary had advantages Roy didn't. The Origin Artifact. The Essence of Involate Self. Meta-knowledge from reading the entire story.
"I know where the pitfalls are," Gary said. "I know which worlds are dangerous. I know how the system works at every level."
He grinned, feeling that familiar surge of excitement.
This was it. This was the opportunity he'd been waiting for since reincarnating.
The Gates of the Abyss weren't just a way to gain power. They were a shortcut. A cheat code. A method to accelerate his growth beyond what normal demon cultivation could achieve.
And he was going to exploit the hell out of it.
Gary closed his eyes, letting his mind drift through plans and possibilities.
Different worlds to visit. Different skills to learn. Different enemies to fight.
The multiverse was open to him now.
He just needed to be smart about accessing it.
"One week," Gary said to the darkness of his tree hollow. "One week to hit Top-Tier and gather more intel. Then I start my real journey."
He could already imagine it. Stepping onto that altar. Feeling the black mist envelop him. Vanishing from the Abyss and reappearing in some other reality.
Fighting new enemies. Learning new powers. Claiming treasures and knowledge.
Coming back stronger every time.
"Yeah," Gary said, settling in to rest despite not needing sleep. "This is gonna be good."
Tomorrow he'd return to hunting. Build his strength. Refine his skills.
And when he was ready, when he'd gathered enough data and accumulated enough power...
Gary would stop being an observer.
And start being a player.
The Gates of the Abyss had been there for thousands of years, connecting countless demons to infinite worlds.
Now it was Gary's turn to use them.
And he was going to make it count.