The reflection chuckled. "That's the typical reaction we expect, right?"

Viktor froze.

He blinked.

'Wait.'

Why the hell did he just get triggered by that?

There was no reason to argue. No reason to feel irritated. This was just... a conversation. A dream. Whatever this was.

So why did he react like that?

It was as if he reacted the way someone does when told they know they are going to die, yet they question why they are living.

Rather than seeking an answer, their first response was one of retaliation, as if to say, "Are you stupid? Are you dumb?" It seemed that something deep within them did not want to acknowledge that there is a much larger truth than what their eyes perceive.

Something beyond money, love, desires, and experience. The truth is that they do not care about death simply because it is not timed as it is portrayed.

It is merely the response they live with, because to them, death may mean an end, but to their inner truth, which already knows how many lifetimes it has lived, the fear of death is just like lust, love, and everything else—futile.

He inhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax as he realized the response came because this guy triggered something within him. "...Yes. You're right."

The reflection's smile softened, almost fond. "Nah, it's fine. That's how life is." He gestured vaguely. "For example, let's talk about your lust."

Viktor's jaw tightened.

"Don't you think it's kind of controlling you now?" the reflection asked gently.

Viktor didn't answer immediately.

He thought about it—really thought about it.

Helena. Mira. The way he couldn't keep his hands off them. The way his cock got hard just from 'looking' at them. The way his mind constantly drifted to sex, to fucking, to 'possessing' them.

In his first life—back on Earth—he'd been normal. Average libido. Nothing unusual.

In his second life—the eleven years of war and survival—he'd barely thought about sex at all. Too busy trying not to die.

But now?

Now he was different.

'Completely' different.

"I can see it," Viktor admitted quietly. "But I can't actively stop it."

The reflection nodded, like he'd expected that answer. "Then what do you think will be the end of it all?"

Viktor looked up, meeting his reflection's gaze head-on.

"I'll keep indulging," he said flatly. "Given the amount of lust I feel and the system's stability, I'll keep indulging until I finally get exhausted out of all this." He paused. "Just like how a rich person feels nothing about money, I'll most probably become numb to it."

He pointed toward the throne—where the incubus lord's corpse had fully dissolved now, leaving only empty space.

"Or," Viktor added, his voice dry, "I'll end up dead like that idiot."

The reflection's eyebrows rose. "Why do you call him an idiot?"

"He's clearly treating those women like objects. Don't you see?" Viktor's tone was matter-of-fact. "No connection. No care. Just... using them."

The reflection blinked. "But aren't you just the same too?"

"No."

The word came out sharp, immediate.

Viktor shook his head. "There's a difference between being possessive, rough during sex, and caring during the time of no lust." His expression hardened. "Aren't newlyweds supposed to be active in the early months?"

The reflection tilted his head, considering. "...What will you do if your wives betrayed you?"

Viktor looked at him with a smirk—dark, self-deprecating. "Why does it even matter? I loved them with all my heart, and they betrayed me. Shouldn't they be losing something precious and suffer after not having me?"

The reflection shook his head slowly. "So you're saying your wives will miss you if they lose you?"

Viktor's gaze drifted back to where the throne had been.

As soon as he'd called the incubus lord an idiot, the image had started dissolving—like acknowledging the truth had made it unable to exist anymore.

"It's human nature," Viktor said quietly. "Emotions change. They evolve. People suddenly act as if the bond that looked like eternity just... vanishes. That's human nature."

He kicked at the black liquid beneath him. It didn't splash—just rippled faintly, like kicking a mirror.

"But if I become possessive about 'he betrayed me, he hurt me,' then wouldn't I suffer more?" Viktor's smirk widened. "The best way is to simply let those people go away."

The reflection's eyes widened slightly. "Aren't you a simp?"

Viktor's gaze dropped to the liquid floor.

His smirk turned into something darker. Crueler.

"And then fuck their mother," he said casually, like he was discussing the weather. "Breed the child. Make those bitches call you 'Daddy' for their whole life."

He looked up, meeting the reflection's shocked expression.

"Isn't that the method most suited for my present self?"

For a long moment, the reflection just stared at him.

Then he burst out laughing—loud, unrestrained, echoing through the void like thunder.

"Indeed! Indeed!" The reflection wiped at his eyes, grinning widely. "You're not the smart one now. You're the 'pervert' one."

And then—

Drops started falling.

Viktor looked up.

Rain.

Except it wasn't rain.

The drops were warm. Salty.

'Tears.'

He could hear voices now—faint, distant, echoing from somewhere far above.

'"Viktor! Wake up! You can't—"'

'"Please... Sir Viktor... please..."'

The reflection's expression softened as he looked up at the falling tears. "I guess you really are not just a lustful bastard." He glanced at Viktor. "People are missing you."

Viktor shrugged. "That's just temporary. Until I'm alive, until they don't forget me, there would be emotions binding us."

The reflection stared at him for a long moment, something unreadable flickering across his face.

Then he sighed.

"Fine then." His voice shifted—deeper, resonant, carrying weight that hadn't been there before. "You passed the test."

Viktor's eyes narrowed.

The reflection stepped back, spreading his arms wide.

"Ask me," he said, his grin returning. "What do you want?"

And then he 'changed'.

Horns erupted from his temples—long, curved, gleaming violet like polished amethyst. A tail unfurled from behind him, sleek and black with a spaded tip. Wings burst from his back—massive, bat-like, membrane stretched between clawed bone.

His suit remained immaculate, but his face—

His face became 'beautiful'. Inhumanly so. Sharp features, glowing violet eyes, skin so perfect it looked carved from marble.

He stood there, arms still spread, offering.

"Ask any of it," the reflection—no, the 'demon'—said, his voice dripping with power. "What do you want?"

Viktor wanted to reject it.

Wanted to argue.

But he knew—'knew'—that he needed to exit this place. And he could only exit after he asked for something.

And given this was a dream he was going to forget upon waking up anyway—

"Then give me that tail," Viktor said bluntly, pointing at the demon's spaded tail. "It would be good while fucking my wives."

The demon's grin widened until it looked almost manic.

He snapped his fingers.

'FLASH.'

Everything exploded into white light—blinding, searing, consuming—

And Viktor heard the demon's voice one last time, echoing as reality shattered around him:

''"So you choose the power of Attor—"''

The words cut off as Viktor's consciousness was ripped away, dragged back toward the surface, back toward pain and blood and broken ribs and two women crying over his body—

Back toward 'life'.

Or a Kiss—

"Mmmhph—!"

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