Chapter 98 - My SI Stash #98 - Winging It by Much Too Desensitized (DxD) (1/2)

-Another DxD SI Fic~ I'm starting to run out of SI fics, it would be really helpful if you guys can comment some recommendations!

*I won't be posting as much after we reach 100 fics, just 1-3 suggestions per day, I'm honestly happy there's more Male SIs now, back then on FFnet there weren't as much of them, it was just filled with Female SIs in Naruto not that I have anything against females in general I just can't relate to them, it's just not for me.

*SI as Riser Phenex~ Make sure to have an account as it's on Questionable Questing!

Sypnosis: ???

Rated: M

Words: 40K

Posted on: forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/winging-it-dxd-riser-si.10105/#post-2754974 (Much Too Desensitized)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1+2

Did you know that being reincarnated with your mind and all your memories intact from the beginning was a huge pain in the ass? I mean, it was a hardly a unique complaint to hear from anyone even moderately familiar with isekai, being just another attempt from amateurish authors at trying to be unique by not making the transition entirely pleasant so readers don't think it will be a thinly veiled self-insert getting all the girls and power. Well, even if I'm now a Devil thanks to my particular circ_u_mstances, I'd like to think I am a fairly honest individual, so I won't bullshit you: I am a complete chick magnet, am the absolute strongest in the world I found myself in, and an utter badass.

... Okay, I can't actually say that with a straight face.

Regardless, I digress. Having to be aware throughout the first years of my second life had been absolutely torturous. Why? Well, let's suppose you had had the fortune of being in complete control of your faculties. You know, able to walk, talk, and all those little things you take for granted. Now, suppose, you became a newborn baby, with all that implied. If the thought sufficiently horrifies you, congratulations! You are keenly aware of just how much it sucks to not be able to such things as being able to actually use a restroom.

There had been talk about how I was fast learner by learning to walk and use the potty by the age of two. Keeping track of time was another one of those difficult things to do as an infant, and so once it sunk in it had taken me two years to regain a modic_u_m of dignity? My response was to nearly cry.

It was fine, though. Getting over the trauma had been as simple as letting time heal the wound as I filled my days with all the shit I could now do as an actually mobile individual. Namely, actually getting around to learning about the world I had found myself in, where I had promptly asked one of the servants of the estate to get me some water just so I could perform my obligatory spit-take once I figured. I suppose I should have perhaps gotten the hint once I had pieced together that my name here was Riser Phenex, and I was a Devil.

Then again, I'd never been the brightest bulb in the bunch. Though that much should have been obvious given my general decision making and training methods.

”Three hundred forty-seven...” I wheezed out, pushing myself back up. Counting aloud wasn't necessary, but it served as both an ego boost whenever the numbers got large enough, and made it much easier to keep track despite the aches and pains throughout my body. ”Three hundred forty-eight...”

Now, you might be wondering a few things. Assuming you have no idea how it was physically possible for an eight year old to do that many push-ups without lying through his teeth, I'll restate that I'm a literal Devil with the addendum that the world I lived was exactly like what I remembered from a Shōnen setting. Training from Hell- well, in Hell in this case, was a tried and true method of getting stronger. There were no real limits on what you could achieve so long as you pushed yourself.

Now, for the others that wondered why I was doing something like physical training when I could be learning magic and doing awesome shit with reality bending powers...

That was a much more complex explanation, but it basically boiled down to one thing: I wanted to get as strong as possible as fast as possible, and my power leant itself towards gaining physical strength.

See, as a Phenex, there were three things I was naturally good at doing with my Demonic Power: controlling fire, controlling wind, and regeneration. This is part where others would probably point out I could be a pyromaniac of epic proportions, which was doubtlessly a better path to take. While the point was a valid one, I'll just say I want to be swole.

”Four... hundred!” I squeezed out.

Flopping to the ground a moment later, I rested my cheek on the barren ground that was signature of much Hell. It was blissfully cool against my skin, but there was no time for that. Directing my power, I healed my arms just enough to take the edge off and not be useless jelly.

I'd done the same thing while exercising, protracting out just how long I could keep going, and how I reached a number like four hundred. While it was hardly comfortable to just heal myself piecemeal after reaching a point of having simply done too much, it did mean I created more muscle tears, and thus strengthened them more than I would have done if I'd completely regenerated the damage and started over. Or so that was the logic I applied, as I didn't actually know if it provided greater results considering I was an inherently magical creature.

With a grunt, I got to my feet. Right, that rep was done, and I felt my Demonic Power was down to its last dregs. That meant that this would be my last round, as I'd be dropping in exhaustion somewhere in the middle of it. All in all, my routine served as a good method to simultaneously train my physical strength, power capacity, and regeneration ability.

Of course, I'd have to look into another method of increasing my capacity once I could train the whole day nonstop.

Nodding to myself, I started my run.

My father gave me a strange look. ”You want what?”

”Holy water,” I repeated, making sure I said the words clearly. ”I would like to have a supply holy water.”

Drexel Phenex set down his pen as he considered my request. ”While it should not be hard to acquire, I must ask why you would want such a thing.”

”Self-mutilation.” There was a stretch of silence as my father simply stared at me. ”For training purposes,” I added.

”Riser,” he sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. ”I know you like to speak obtusely, and I can only guess where you got the habit from, but please explain properly when you make a request from me. You are asking me not only as Lord Phenex, but your father. So, I will ask again: why do you want holy water?”

Scratching at my cheek, I glanced to the side, considering my words before looking at him again. ”I would like holy water to train,” I began. ”It's a weakness I possess as not only as a Devil, but as a Phenex given that I have been told it stalls our regeneration. I was thinking that perhaps exposing myself to it repeatedly could help me grow a resistance or even immunity to it.”

He quirked an eyebrow. ”You are aware of what the effects of holy water our to us Devils, yes?”

”It is corrosive and poisonous,” I answered with a nod.

”And you would undergo that damage repeatedly, willingly, for this… training of yours?”

”I see.” Father stayed quiet as he contemplated my words, before eventually giving a small nod of his own. ”Very well, I'll grant your request. However, only under the condition that every time you subject yourself to the damage you are under the supervision I approve of, and that it be applied to you in certain amounts.”

Blinking, I considered his demands. So he just wanted to make sure I was always watched my someone he could trust when I was exposing myself to something that could kill me in sufficient quantities, but limited just how much I was exposed to?

”Thanks, Dad!” I agreed with a grin.

He simply shook his head slowly with a faintly amused smile. ”You are such an odd child.”

”Of course,” I waved off. ”If I'm not odd, there's no way I'll achieve my dream.”

”Hmm? And what would that be?”

I cupped my chin in thought. ”Well, I'm a bit undecided, but I'm fairly certain I want to marry either Serafall Leviathan or the Infinite Dragon God.”

There was a brief pause before he started laughing.

”Hey! I'm being serious!”

Rude. I really was serious

Chapter 2

Time had a tendency to pass remarkably quickly, in my view. I suppose that made sense, considering there was so much alike in each day that they just blended together; Sunday to Friday were training days, Saturday was my rest and relaxation time.

Unfortunately, there were things that came with time. Generally the complaint was responsibilities or losing the spryness of youth, but as a spoiled brat who had an expected lifespan in the five digits? Those were not my concerns. Oh no, my concern was far worse.

My concern was a hated thing I feared to utter the name of lest I call its attention to me: Puberty.

It was composed of seven letters, just as there were seven deadly sins. Coincidence? I think not.

All too soon I knew it had come upon me, as the years without libido and l_u_s_ty thoughts made it quite apparent when they returned. Honestly, it was kind of horrifying in a weird way. It was probably an idle thought people have every once in a while: how much time do I spent thinking about s_e_x?

The answer is actually quite a bit. Plus, it's super distracting.

For example, it was kind of hard not to look at my combat teacher's b_r_e_a_s_ts, moving as they were in her sports bra, so my brain could only absently question why her fist was getting bigger. Until it hit me, that is. Or when I noticed that she was very flexible indeed, if she could raise her leg that high. But while things did rise in response, said leg came crashing down.

In short, I had a growing vendetta against my training instructor's wardrobe and wondered why the hell things were so tight and showed so much skin. Also, I was beginning to wonder if my older brother was a pervert, as even if Devils were generally not unattractive given we were natural shapeshifters, his Rook was really quite beautiful. Still, I was a bigger person than that, and chalked it up as a win seeing as I was already slowly learning to avoid getting distracted by the s_e_xy. Very slowly, admittedly.

Sadly, that was not the worse part of puberty. No, rather, that was social aspect of my life.

In the wise words of a con man—the only absolute is money, for it is replaceable and can replace anything. Given that the Phenex family was capable of producing extremely potent healing medicine of no small demand and its status as one of the 72 Pillars, it was no lie to call me rich. Like, rich enough that it honestly was a superpower of its own.

In short, so long as it was in the realm of reason - and sometimes a bit beyond even that - I could purchase just about anything. Why was this relevant? Well, it came with downsides as well. Being part of an upper class family meant there were certain expectations of me.

One of those was that I was required to attend certain events and have playdates with other children around my age. As anyone who had been through the torture that is being a volatile chemical c_o_c_ktail in the shape of a human, you should know why a second run through was absolutely terrible.

There was nothing lovely about teenagers. Acne-ridden, hormone-driven, angst-peddling, holier-than-thou, world-revolves-around-me, teenagers.

S_e_x? If the topic didn't come up, there was something suspicious going on. Self-aggrandizement? They had to find some sense of self-worth somewhere, so obviously. Generally that had to do it via insulting another person, too, so I'd heard my fair share of 'subtle' jabs at my reputation for being the weakest Devil of our generation and my general weirdness.

Thankfully, my playdates were, as said, around my age. Sometimes I got lucky and had the chance to meet those younger than me, untouched by the vile grasp of my enemy.

Such was why I began to carry candy on me at all times when I was told I would be meeting a peer. Being terrible with words was one thing, but I could still ruthlessly exploit my playmates young minds by cheering them up or positively reinforcing them by giving them a sweet. I did need to be mindful to not do it too often, otherwise the effect diminished.

In other words, I was actually an a_d_u_l_t who gave candy to kids to get them to like me.

Regardless, I had been reigned into yet another playdate, and such was why I found myself meeting the gaze of a girl five years younger than me. There was a stretch of silence as both of us waited for the other to make the first move.

”It's a p_l_e_a_s_u_r_e to meet you,” the seven year old finally said, making a curtsey.

As for me, I just glanced over at my mother, standing off to the side with Lady Sitri. She gave me a stern look, and I knew there was really no way for me to get out of this. Turning back, I stepped forward and took a step forward and brought up one of her hands to kiss the back of it.

”The p_l_e_a_s_u_r_e is mine,” I returned.

Internally, I was just groaning at the formality of it all. Another thing expected of me as a member of a powerful family was knowing how to 'behave in a gentlemanly way,' which really just meant I needed to know all the superfluous etiquette of high society.

My retorts are the following: why in the f_u_c_k do you need meals with up to eleven courses? Are you trying to f_u_c_k_i_n_g starve people in the most sadistic way possible by not only stretching the length of the meal, but barely feeding them each course? What possible purpose is there in having so many types of utensils? If I want to eat desert, I can damn well use the same fork I ate my salad and meat with!

And that was only getting into a subset of the European version of etiquette! I'd been made to learn the damn works.

Honestly, I felt an immense amount of pity as I looked at Sona. I wasn't even the heir, being the third child, and that was still considered essential skills for me. I could only imagine the various other things the girl was also going to be forced to learn.

Glancing again at my mother, I decided it would probably be best to stop monologuing to myself and just do as was expected of me.

”So, I hear you are a fan of chess.”

The girl nodded. ”That I am.”

”I've never really possessed the time to play much of it myself,” I admitted. ”But now seems a good opportunity, if you would care to play?”

”Certainly,” Sona answered with a polite smile. Underneath it, however, I was certain she was quite unenthused. ”This way,” she guided, taking a step to lead the way. ”There is a board in my study.”