The room stretched endlessly around him, yet in the centre stood the battered desk and its glowing monitor, suspended like relics from another life. Every time Ethan moved, the chair beneath him groaned.
His eyes scanned the screen as he explored the menu, trying to determine what else this strange PC could do.
An icon flickered faintly in the corner, almost hidden—something he had not noticed before.
Curiosity gnawed at him. He clicked.
For a heartbeat, the screen bled white fire, and raw pain seared through his skull. Then text appeared, jagged and unstable:
[Zarathos Connection — Fragment Detected]
Access: Restricted (Vessel capacity insufficient. Connection unstable.)
Ethan let out a sharp breath and forced a bitter grin.
"…Figures," he muttered, baring his teeth. "Even my own angel thinks I'm not strong enough yet."
Deep within his chest, something stirred. It was not a flame or heat, but the sensation of a giant heart chained beneath layers of hell, waiting for release. The ember pulsed once, then again, synchronizing with his own heartbeat. Unfortunately, he could not feel it.
Ethan turned back to the glowing menus, searching for something more. Maybe a hidden skill tree, a way to switch into a different character, or even a shop. Anything that could expand what he already had.
Most of the icons were dark, locked behind requirements he did not meet. Every time he clicked one, the same cold message appeared:
[Access Denied — Level Insufficient]
He tried again. And again. The answer never changed.
Frustration built inside him. His level was nothing more than a question mark, leaving him with two problems he could not shake. He did not know what level he needed to unlock anything, and worse, he did not even know whether levelling up was possible.
After clicking yet another icon, the same reply appeared:
[Access Denied — Level Insufficient]
Watching the message repeat was maddening. Eventually, his frustration boiled over, and he slammed his fist against the desk. If this was not his golden finger, he would have smashed the whole thing to pieces.
"At least tell me my level! And how am I supposed to level up!?" he nearly roared.
The monitor answered with a sudden flare of light.
[Only by defeating Mephisto / Satan himself will your true level be revealed.]
Another surge followed immediately, sharper and more commanding:
[Defeat to grow stronger. Each act of judgment against an evil soul will allow you to level up.]
"Defeat Mephisto? Satan?" Ethan muttered, his voice tight with irritation. "I don't have some DLC that lets me grind levels until I can stroll up and beat down Satan."
Sure, he could kill stray devils, but there were not many of them in a single city. As for attacking a normal devil, that would be a straight path to starting a war—and he was not stupid enough to do that.
His fists clenched as frustration bubbled inside him. He was not even aware of his own power level in this world, and now the system was urging him to take on a final boss as if it were an easy task. He needed a way to assess his abilities before even considering something that insane.
As the monitor dimmed, Ethan leaned back and allowed his breathing to steady.
At least now he knew one thing: this PC really was his golden finger. It was not just a source of random power; it was a path forward. Even if that path was annoying.
He thought back over everything he already had. Hellfire. An immortal body that refused to die. The standard strength and speed of the Ghost Rider. The Penance Stare, which worked ninety percent of the time. He possessed more power than most hunters, devils, or even angels could dream of.
But this power would not be enough if he wanted more than mere survival. He would need upgrades, weapons, money, and perhaps a few women—since this was a DxD world.
The only thing he disliked was the idea of grinding for upgrades.
If it were up to him, he would simply lie around and wait for a few girls to literally fall from the sky. Sadly, he was not the main character of this world, which meant he could not collect women just by existing. Worse, he had to worry about the actual protagonist swooping in and stealing them from him.
Therefore, even if he did not want to, he had to defeat every sinner and monster he could find, level up, and protect the girls from the clutches of the protagonist.
Hunt, punish, and grow stronger. Collect divine weapons and earn money.
As those strange thoughts swirled through his mind, darkness swallowed all light.
When sensation returned, the first thing Ethan noticed was the softness of the mattress beneath him. Then came a faint, natural scent—clean and warm—that told him he was not alone.
As he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the cracked ceiling of the abandoned church stretching above him. For a moment, he simply lay there, breathing.
After a minute, his gaze drifted toward Asia, who was sleeping beside him. To his annoyance, she was still wearing her clothes.
He frowned.
"Seriously? No fanservice for me? Feels like censorship mixed with discrimination," he muttered under his breath. "Without nudity, it's not even a proper isekai experience."
The difference bothered him. He clearly remembered that, in episode two, Issei had woken up to a beautiful scene. When Ethan's turn came to become a hero, the girl suddenly became sensible.
His lips curled into a smirk as his gaze lingered on her.
Maybe I should teach her how to sleep like the heroines in the original story. A little less pious… and with fewer clothes.
Before his mind could wander too far, Asia stirred.
Her lashes fluttered, and she let out a small yawn. Then, in the softest and most innocent tone imaginable, she whispered:
"…Good morning."
The sound was disarming, pure enough to cleanse the darker thoughts in Ethan's mind. He blinked, and his smirk faded.
"Morning," he replied, his voice softer than he intended.
Asia sat up slowly, brushing her hair back with one hand. She looked around the ruined church as the light of dawn crept through the shattered windows.
"What's your plan?" Ethan asked, swinging his legs off the bed. His tone was casual, but he studied her carefully.
Asia folded her hands together and glanced toward the small altar at the front.
"I think… I'll start by arranging the church. A little cleaning and fixing."
"Fine," he said after a moment. "You can handle the saintly stuff. I'm going out to see if I can find a few lost souls."
Asia tilted her head, puzzled.
"Lost souls?" she asked carefully and innocently. She clearly did not understand what he meant.
Ethan gave a small, awkward shrug and a lopsided smile.
"Yeah—people who need help meeting God. Or maybe Satan."
He pushed himself to his feet.
"I'll be back by night. Bye-bye," he said without looking back.
Asia smiled uncertainly, nodded, and watched him leave.