Capítulo 1: 1: Val, The Unfeeling!
Year 1666, Victoria Kingdom, Outer Region, Ironspire Stronghold.
In a certain cozy nook of Whitemore Manor, the warm glow from a steam-powered lamp flickered and died abruptly. Without any human intervention, windows flung open, revealing a quiet garden tucked away behind protective fences, speckled with a few trees, and a serene pool quietly nestled within.
This humble pool seemed to be holding a mirror to the heavens, reflecting the magnificent sight above.
The sky was painted with two moons, one as pure and bright as freshly fallen snow and the other, a deep crimson hue that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy as if it held some untold secrets.
These otherworldly glows of the moons streamed through the open windows, flooding the room with a magical, silvery light. Amidst this ethereal illumination, the enchanting features of a young lad came into the spotlight.
The lad, who seemed to be barely out of his teens, boasted a pair of dark, hypnotic eyes. His eyes were harboring a magnetic pull that could captivate anyone who dared to meet his gaze. A cascade of raven-black hair hung over his forehead in a charming fringe, adding to his mysterious charm. His handsome features, a blend of sharp contours, a commanding jawline, and high cheekbones, emitted an aura of unspoken authority. His thin lips and aristocratic nose lent him an aura that bordered on the divine.
Every detail of his appearance seemed sculpted to perfection, as if he was handcrafted by the gods themselves.
But beneath this flawless exterior, there was an undercurrent of an unspoken darkness, mirrored in his emotionless stare that seemed eerily similar to the lifeless gaze of a corpse and an air of danger that seemed to shroud him in something that could only be described as utter madness!
His presence, one could say, was akin to a bloodthirsty beast!
A mere glance at him in this state, and one might think twice before daring to approach him. Those faint of heart could be sent running in fear at the sight of him.
He was Val V. Whitemore, the second son of the head of the Whitemore Family.
This was a side of him hidden away from public scrutiny. In the company of others, he would don a mask of stoicism, his true self concealed behind a facade more suited to a socialite. He was alone at this moment, thus there was no need for pretenses, hence why his authentic self stood revealed.
His striking good looks were accentuated by his attire, which consisted of a sleek black tailcoat, trousers that mirrored the coat, a crisp white shirt with its high collar and cuffs, a neat waistcoat, a delicately knotted cravat, and glossy black leather shoes polished to perfection. His tailored ensemble exuded refinement and elegance, a stark contrast to his brooding demeanor.
And, despite this calculated effort, the overall appearance seemed as natural to him as breathing. It didn't make him seem pretentious.
In this day and age, silk was a token of lavish luxury, savored only by society's elite, yet, every inch of his attire was spun from the finest silk. It showcased that he had an extraordinary identity.
It wouldn't be a stretch to deduce that he hailed from an affluent family!
Based on what he was wearing, it seemed as if he had just returned from a formal occasion.
And indeed, he had.
With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, Val V. Whitemore mused,
'The Bloodline Awakening ritual, meant to be my springboard to greatness, ended up being the push that led to my downfall.'
Today was a significant day for the Whitemore clan - the crimson moon worshipping day. It was a day that marked the awakening of the bloodline of all 16-year-olds in the Whitemore family.
The bloodline of the Whitemores could only be awakened using the witch's potion.
Potions in this world could be used to gain, awaken, or evolve bloodline.
Awakening though was only possible for those who were descendants of bloodline users.
The witch's potion was infamous for its dangerous nature. It was only when the Whitemores turned 16, deemed mentally and physically robust enough to withstand its corruptive tendencies, that they could try to awaken as skill users. Even then, the path to success wasn't guaranteed, and failure spelled a fate worse than death.
Thus, only when a Whitemore was 16 years old would they be allowed to undergo the dangerous ritual.
There were indeed alternative potions that could bestow one with a unique bloodline and accompanying skill, but for a Whitemore, such potions were a death sentence. Their own bloodline, dormant or active, would violently reject the new potion's effects, resulting in a fatal explosion that would explode their bodies and also harm those nearby.
Val recalled what happened today.
After taking the witch's potion, those among the Whitemores who were not able to fend off the potion's corruption faced a horrific transformation.
From humans, they transformed into creatures void of any semblance of humanity, only to be promptly killed by the bloodline users of the Whitemores.
Yet, the ones who had successfully resisted the potion's sinister influence had their bloodline awakened, and they obtained bloodline skills, which resulted in their status in the Whitemore hierarchy skyrocketing.
Val had also taken part in this year's bloodline awakening ritual.
Val, with his impressive track record in academics and athletics since a young age, was the golden boy of the Whitemores. Their expectations were high, fully convinced that he'd unlock some powerful skill indigenous to their lineage. After all, how excellent one was before awakening their bloodline determined how high their chances were of awakening their bloodline.
However, destiny had a different script to follow.
Despite Val's years' worth of best efforts, impeccable lineage, and the aid of the witch's potion, he was met with silence from his own blood!
Normally, a Whitemore would either awaken their whitemore bloodline or transform into a monster. But Val experienced nothing - no corruption or awakening - after taking the witch's potion!
A case like Val's was really rare, unprecedented even!
It left countless bewildered and disappointed!
'Talented young master falling from grace at the age of 16... this beginning is oddly familiar to the web novels I have read in my past life,' Val thought.
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
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Capítulo 2: 2: Devilish Encounter!
As one can already tell, Val was born with the memory of his previous life.
He was a reincarnator!
In his previous life, he was from Earth.
Back there, he was a feared warlord, leading a vast army of mercenaries.
He was living like a king when World War 3 started.
With the onset of World War III, nations crumbled in quick succession.
Val was a ruthless and merciless man, and war times were extremely profitable for him. Yet, no matter how strong and great he was, he was still a mortal.
A casualty of a nuclear explosion, he was sent spiraling into the afterlife!
He thought, with his hands stained with the blood of both innocent and guilty lives, his eternal resting place would surely be in the deepest layer of hell.
But life, or rather the afterlife, threw him a curveball.
Instead of a descent into hell, he found himself in the warm womb of a woman, reborn as a tiny embryo.
Pushed into a new life from her sacred blossom, it took him a whole year to grasp the nature of his new reality.
Here, bloodline users were revered, while ordinary folks were treated like dirt.
Thus, after coming to this world, Val had always yearned for the status of a bloodline user, a position that would grant him control over his own destiny, but, being a Whitemore, he had to bide his time for sixteen long years to partake in the bloodline awakening ritual.
The outcome, however, was a slap in the face!
He was branded a normie, an individual incapable of gaining or awakening a bloodline, regardless of the potion used!
Following his tumble from grace, his so-called friends cut all ties with him, his envious peers kicked him while he was down, and his father turned his back on him. Now that he was seen as a normie, Val received no aid or comfort from him. Not that he cared.
On top of that, the protection he had been receiving from the clan since he was born has also been taken away.
As of now, he was completely vulnerable to the harmful elements of this strange world.
"My life might be in shambles, but I've still got a lifeline to clutch at."
He still had a way to salvage this situation!
He was seated next to a desk. There was a worn black book with a tattered cover and yellowed pages before him.
This book seemed to have endured the passage of countless years and oozed a sinister aura, enough to unsettle most. Val, however, was impervious to its eerie ambiance, as if he lacked the ability to feel fear, a result of his Unfeeling Trait.
This ancient, dilapidated black book was a parting gift from his mother before she disappeared. As it seemed like nothing was written on it, the book was dismissed as useless by all but Val.
For some inexplicable reason, only he could see and read the text inscribed within and on its cover!
Its title was "Devil's System."
The artifact claimed to endow its user with devilish powers, provided they were deemed worthy. However, to activate it, one needed to pay a steep price, which was half their sight.
Such a peculiar condition made Val question the sincerity of the book. It seemed ludicrous enough to be a joke, so he never attempted to activate it. He was unwilling to lose half his vision on a potential wild goose chase.
Now, however, the grim reaper seemed to be sharpening its scythe for him. As a normie, the protection of his family was no longer his to enjoy. This world was filled with a myriad of strange entities, and should he have the misfortune of encountering one, death was a guarantee.
Thus, he urgently needed the power to protect himself from the harmful elements of this strange world that was so different than Earth!
In the face of impending death, the choice to sacrifice half his vision to activate the artifact suddenly didn't seem too hard. So, with a calm demeanor, he reached for his own eye.
Pluck!
With a sickening squelch, he plucked it from its socket, holding the bloody eyeball between his fingers.
Blood streamed from the empty socket, but he didn't flinch, nor did he scream. His face remained serene as if he hadn't experienced anything. It was quite a horrifying and peculiar sight. In his previous life, he was known as Val the Unfeeling! He couldn't feel pain or fear because of his Unfeeling Trait. At the same time, it was more difficult for him to experience other emotions as compared to an average human because of his Emotional Impairment Trait.
These traits had carried on to his current life!
He then placed his eyeball onto the Devil's System. Immediately, a dark vortex materialized at the book's center, swallowing his eyeball whole.
As a result, the Devil's System began to morph, transforming into an eye that floated into Val's vacant socket, filling it. This new eye mirrored Val's original one, yet it was far darker and seemed to harbor an immeasurable depth. Unless someone was scrutinizing his eyes closely, this subtle change would go unnoticed.
"Ding," echoed the sound of a bell in Val's ears. Just then, a semi-transparent screen materialized before his eyes.
[Connection to Devil's System: Established.]
[Prove your worth to the Devil's System.]
[A trial has started!]
[Survive for five minutes!]
[Failure means termination of life!]
[Succeed and the Devil's System is yours!]
Just as he read the last line, the steam-powered lamp in the room, which had earlier switched off mysteriously, flickered back on, casting an uncanny light around the room.
Val's eyes instinctively moved towards the lamp, its brass foundation and glass shield gleaming under the light of the moons.
A while ago, it had turned off on its own, and now it came back to life by itself too.
Was it malfunctioning?'
Val knew that that wasn't the case.
There was something else at play here, something sinister.
His conclusion was proven true when the lamp's light started shifting towards a sinister red hue.
"Interesting," Val remarked, his tone unfazed.
His gaze roamed around the room, alert for any potential threats. He was no stranger to this world where danger could spring up unannounced, a world teeming with devils and monsters. He had to remain vigilant. Always.
Suddenly, a series of knocks on his door interrupted his thoughts - a distinct 'ratatatat!'
"Who's there?" Val called out.
The knocking persisted, becoming louder, almost demanding. His frown deepened. "Speak up now, or you won't like what follows. Who is it?"
Still no answer. Only the relentless pounding against his door, almost as if by a formidable, non-human force.
Val, unafraid, strode towards the door. Whatever awaited him, he was ready to face it head-on.
However, as his hand reached out for the handle, a grotesque scene unfurled. The door seemed to bleed, turning a horrific shade of red as though blood was seeping through its grain.
Any ordinary person would've recoiled in fear at this sight. Not Val, though. He just stepped back, not willing to stain his luxurious attire.
Interpreting his retreat as a sign of weakness, tendrils of darkness began to sneak in through the door's edges. Like a swarm of wriggling worms, they snaked into the room, then spiraled together to form a monstrous figure as tall as Val himself!
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