"I've got to admit… succubi really do have their charms."
Daniel rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then lit a cigarette, slowly exhaling a ring of smoke into the air.
The Demon Race truly lived up to their reputation as a species that thrived on temptation and seduction—the experience had been... intense.
Now, he finally understood why some people were willing to hand over their life essence to a succubus with no resistance at all.
"To die beneath a bed of peonies, even as a ghost, would be romantic," as the saying went.
Still, Daniel didn't let himself get carried away. He knew where to draw the line.
Before he realized it, Daniel noticed that his resistance to the abyssal environment was beginning to weaken. He was no longer feeling repulsed or hostile toward this place.
And that, most likely, was exactly Sarko's plan.
Was he trying to lure Daniel into corruption?
A trace of self-reflection crossed Daniel's face.
