Asmodeus System: Stealing My Bully's Mother

The back hallway connecting the kitchen to the storage basement felt narrower and much stuffier this morning.

Asrof gently pulled the handle of the old wooden cabinet. Its rusted hinges creaked softly, releasing the scent of mothballs and thin dust into the air. The old man, still retaining a hint of his military posture, pulled out a piece of clothing—a frayed, lace-trimmed maid outfit that had long been forgotten.

He turned around.

Before him, Lilith stood in silence. The Succubus who had radiated lethal terror just last night now looked incredibly helpless. Her pale body was still wrapped in the dirty burlap sack. Her thick pink hair was a tangled mess, obscuring half of her face.

Her golden-red eyes were now glued dimly to the stone tiles.

Without a single word, Asrof handed over the clothes.

Lilith accepted it. There was no argument. No flash of anger. The lingering dominance of Sin Mana and the Lust Brand on her chest had pulverized her demonic ego into dust.

At the threshold of the kitchen, Berta watched the bizarre interaction.

The middle-aged woman was no longer hysterical. She simply stood rigidly, her knuckles turning white as she gripped a dirty rag. Her head shook faintly, realizing just how insane the reality of this household had become. A man-eating monster was now reduced to an errand girl.

The pale winter light slowly slipped through the cracks of the wooden windows in the Valen family’s dining room. The morning air felt biting, even though the small fireplace in the corner crackled, offering residual warmth.

Upon the wooden table covered by a frayed cloth, a simple breakfast had been served.

The sound of barefoot footsteps approached from the back hallway. Lilith stepped in.

She was now wearing the black-and-white maid dress, which was frayed and slightly baggy. However, the cheap cut of the fabric ultimately failed to hide the Succubus’s curves. Her snow-pale skin stood in stark contrast to the dark color of the dress. Her pink hair was still a bit messy, framing a face bowed in obedience.

Yuna, who was arranging the wooden plates, instantly tensed up. Her fingers gripped the edge of a plate until they trembled slightly. She looked away, forcing herself to resume setting the table in silence.

Near the door, Asrof stood guard. His posture was as stiff as a statue, yet his eyes never left Lilith’s every movement. Ready for the worst-case scenario.

At the head of the table, Ethan sat back calmly.

His black shirt wrapped neatly around his frame. The young man’s dark brown eyes stared at the table with an expression as flat as a frozen lake. As if the presence of a demon pouring water into his glass was an entirely normal sight.

The Valen estate had mutated into a terrifying anomaly. However, under the absolute pressure of the Young Master, the wheel of life was forced to keep turning.

Once the dreadful breakfast was over, Ethan stood up. He walked toward the living room, then stopped.

"Miya," Ethan called out without looking back. "Follow me to my room."

Near the hallway, Miya flinched. Her pointed ears twitched in shock. The Elf girl swallowed hard, bowed her head obediently, and hurried to follow behind her master.

Ethan’s room was no less gloomy than the other rooms. There was only a sturdy wooden bed, an old wardrobe, and a single small window facing the forest. The cold air seeped through the cracks in the stone walls.

As soon as Miya entered, Ethan closed the door. Click.

Miya’s light purple eyes were immediately drawn to a folded pile of fabric on the bed. A black-and-white maid uniform. Very similar to Yuna’s, but much smaller in size.

"M-Master...?" Miya mumbled. She looked at Ethan with furrowed brows, confused and anxious all at once.

"In Zenithar, you were a healer I employed," Ethan stated. He stepped forward until the distance between them was barely a span. "But in this house, you are not a guest."

Miya’s breath hitched in her throat.

"Take off your clothes," Ethan ordered in a low voice.

It wasn’t a shout, but an absolute gravity that forced Miya’s knees to go weak.

"Change into that. Now."

The pale face of the Elf girl instantly flushed crimson. Her petite fingers trembled violently. However, refusal was not an option at all.

With jerky movements, Miya bit her lower lip. She pulled loose the knot of her white medical coat. The thick fabric slipped and fell to the floor. Followed by the thin clothes beneath it.

The cold air of the room immediately stung Miya’s now-exposed pale skin.

On her left thigh, the reddish-black rose Lust Brand was imprinted in stark contrast. As if mocking the remnants of the healer’s pride. Miya hurriedly crossed her arms over her chest, her pointed ears burning bright red.

Ethan stood frozen in place.

His dark brown eyes didn’t emit a shred of primal lust. That gaze was pure calculation. The gaze of a conqueror assessing his property. And it was exactly that coldness that made Miya feel stripped bare down to the bottom of her soul.

With her hands still trembling, Miya grabbed the maid uniform and hastily put it on.

The clothes hid the tattoo on her thigh, but absolutely affirmed her new hierarchy.

Ethan stepped forward. His right hand reached out, gently gripping Miya’s chin. He forced the Elf to look up, making those purple eyes meet the darkness of his brown ones.

"Starting today, you serve this house. Serve me, and serve my sister," Ethan hissed. His aura of dominance pressed against Miya’s chest until she was nearly out of oxygen. "Never forget your place, Miya."

Miya closed her eyes. Total resignation was painted by a single teardrop at the corner of her eye. "Y-yes, Master... I understand."

Ethan released his grip. Miya immediately bowed her head deeply, hiding her still-burning face.

Without another word, Ethan turned and walked out of the room.

Miya gripped the hem of her skirt. She took a deep breath, steadying her wildly beating heart, then followed her master out.

In the living room, the crackle of the fireplace broke the silence.

The bedroom door in the side hallway creaked. Elara stepped out very carefully, her hand tightly gripping Miya’s palm. The little girl wore a thick wool nightgown, her neck wrapped in a long scarf.

Her pale brown hair had been combed neatly. Even though her eyes were covered by the white film of blindness, a peaceful smile was etched on her lips.

Miya guided Elara to sit in the armchair near the window, letting the warm air from the fireplace sweep over the fragile body.

"Are you feeling better, Lady Elara?" Miya asked softly.

"Much better, Sister Miya." Elara’s smile grew wider. She turned toward the living room, as if she could see. "The air... is so different. It’s very quiet. But somehow, it feels much safer."

Miya swallowed a bitter lump. Her light purple eyes glanced toward the hallway. Right as Lilith walked past with her head bowed, carrying a bucket of water.

If you knew this ’safety’ was paid for with blood and the subjugation of a monster, your smile would surely vanish, Elara.

"Mhm... you’re right, My Lady. The air is fresher here," Miya replied, lying while gently stroking the back of Elara’s hand.

From the kitchen, Yuna stole a glance. Her jaw clenched. She was grateful to see Elara’s laughter return, but the dark reality of this household was choking her. The warmth in the corner by the fireplace felt fake amidst the tension creeping along their stone walls.

That morning’s tranquility was disturbed by a commotion from the front yard.

Asrof immediately put down his sword and opened the main door. Outside the still-locked rusted gates, dozens of villagers were gathered.

Their appearance was pitiful. Layers of tattered clothes wrapped their thin bodies against the biting wind. In their hands, they hugged woven baskets containing a few eggs, hard black bread, and the best pieces of firewood they could salvage.

"U-Uncle Asrof," a middle-aged man called out. His trembling hands pushed a basket through the bars of the gate. "Please accept this. I-it’s not much... but we want to thank the Young Master. If it weren’t for him last night... this village would surely be ashes by now."

Asrof’s chest tightened at the sight. He knew perfectly well that handing over eggs and bread at the peak of winter meant letting their own families endure starvation.

However, before Asrof had the chance to speak, the gazes of several villagers peeking into the house suddenly froze.

Through the frosted living room window, the silhouette of a woman sweeping the floor was clearly visible. Her pink hair flared. Her golden-red eyes glinted, reflecting the firelight.

The villagers’ faces instantly went as pale as corpses. Their knees trembled. They would never forget the face of the monster that always dragged their children away.

"T-t-that... t-that creature is inside...!" a woman shrieked hysterically. The firewood in her arms tumbled down onto the snow.

"Calm down!" Asrof’s baritone voice sliced through the panic. "That demon is now the Young Master’s slave! As long as you don’t go looking for trouble, she won’t dare touch a single hair on your heads. Go home, fix your houses."

Inside the house, camouflaged by the shadows of the hallway, Ethan stood with his arms crossed.

His eyes monitored the interaction on the porch without a ripple of emotion. He had no intention of going out to greet them. His position was no longer the ’Young Master’ begging for sympathy, but rather an entity that sowed terror and absolute protection all at once.

Seeing the crowd leave in fear, Lilith stopped her sweeping.

The Succubus glanced at Ethan’s study, whose door was half-open. A faint, deceitful smirk crept onto her lips. She leaned the broom against the wall, then strolled gracefully down the hallway.

Creeaak.

The door creaked. Lilith stepped inside without bothering to knock.

The chest area of her maid dress looked wet. Whether she had accidentally been splashed by water, or intentionally soaked it so the thin fabric clung transparently to her pale skin, was unknown.

"Hah... human chores are actually quite torturous, Master," Lilith sighed. Her voice was once again husky and seductive, dropping her mask of obedience for a moment.

Ethan, sitting in his father’s leather chair, didn’t lift his face from the parchment in his hands in the slightest.

Feeling ignored, Lilith smiled slightly. She rounded the mahogany desk, and with absolute audacity, seated herself on the edge of the desk right next to Ethan. Her long legs were exposed through the slit of the frayed skirt.

"You know... I can serve you in a much more satisfying way than just sweeping dust," she whispered. Lilith leaned in, letting the sweet scent of her demonic pheromones waft through the room. "Let me loosen your tense muscles, My Lord."

Her pale hand reached out slowly toward Ethan’s jaw.

SLAM!

Ethan’s movement was too fast for the naked eye. In a flash, he stood up, grabbed Lilith by the neck, and yanked the demon off the desk.

Ethan slammed Lilith’s body down until she knelt harshly on the dusty floor.

"Ghk—!" Lilith choked, a sharp pain shooting through her knees.

Ethan towered over her, his right hand pressing Lilith’s shoulder down mercilessly. His brown eyes bore down sharply, piercing the Succubus’s golden-red pupils with absolute coldness.

"Did you think your cheap seduction could dictate me?" Ethan hissed, his voice dropping low enough to rattle bones.

Ethan didn’t let her go. Instead, the Sin Mana in his veins resonated.

The Lust Brand tattoo on Lilith’s chest suddenly reacted. Instead of arousal, an excruciating pain felt as if it was burning the demon’s heart from the inside. The dark energy crushed her mana circuits, injecting a terror and dominance that pulverized what remained of her ego into pieces.

The torture was brief but fatal.

Lilith’s body instantly went limp. She panted heavily, trembling uncontrollably under Ethan’s grip. Tears pooled in her eyes. Reality slapped her sanity once again—before this man, she was not a predator, but property.

Right at that moment, footsteps outside the study halted abruptly.

Miya, who was hugging a stack of clean towels, froze in place. Her pointed ears caught the sound of stifled whimpers and moans from inside.

The Elf’s face turned as red as a boiled crab. Understanding what (she assumed) was going on, Miya lowered her head deeply. She quickened her pace, running away with her heart nearly leaping out of her chest.

Inside, Ethan released his grip. Lilith slumped weakly to the floor, her eyes losing focus.

"Get out," Ethan dismissed without glancing at her again. "Clean the kitchen floor you left behind."

Night finally swallowed the Valen estate. The candles in Ethan’s study were nearly burnt out.

Asrof stepped inside. The old man’s face was pulled taut by dense lines of seriousness. He stood across the desk, waiting for his master to put down the pen.

"What is it, Asrof?" Ethan asked.

"The report on our fields, Young Master," Asrof’s voice was heavy and stifled. "Since your departure... the wheat fields on the southern border have been taken over."

Ethan’s eyes lifted slowly. "By whom?"

"The garrison troops of Baron Drel," Asrof hissed, full of hatred. "That’s our only fertile land for spring. They’ve set up an outpost there. The villagers don’t dare fight trained soldiers."

Asrof swallowed hard, his voice growing hoarser. "If that land isn’t reclaimed before the snow melts... next season, Valen Village will starve to death."

Silence took over. There was only the crackling sound of firewood in the hearth.

Ethan didn’t explode in anger. There was no slamming on the desk. He merely leaned his back slowly against his chair. His eyes reflected the flickering candle flame.

His hand casually twirled the pen between his fingers.

"Baron Drel..." Ethan muttered. He spelled out the name like a grim reaper jotting down a hit list.

"Tell the villagers to stay indoors," Ethan continued. His tone was overly calm, yet it oozed lethal venom. "I will handle it."

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