Villain: Ultimate Mutation System in the Alternate World

Just as the Demon God patted himself on the back for his cleverness, the human representative began thanking him profusely.

They were kissing up to him, just as he’d planned.

Others who noticed Reign couldn’t help but smile at him, their curiosity piqued. The resemblance between him and Draven was undeniable—at certain angles, they looked nearly identical.

Some, familiar with the rumors surrounding the Demon God, quickly put two and two together.

Whispers began to spread through the crowd as people realized that the young man standing beside Draven was his infamous grandson.

As the crowd slowly made its way toward Reign, drawn to his presence and status,

Draven leaned in closer, his voice low. "You don’t need to force yourself to talk to them. I know you’re anti-social."

"Anti-social?" Reign rolled his eyes, irritation creeping in. The way his grandfather put it made it sound like he couldn’t talk at all. He disliked socializing, but that didn’t mean he lacked the ability to converse.

He paused for a moment, letting the silence stretch, enough to capture the crowd’s attention.

Then, without a word, he flashed a smile. Subtle, barely a curve of his lips, but there was something magnetic about it—something that instantly put those around him at ease.

When he spoke, his voice was soft, almost melodic, carrying a rhythm that made each word feel carefully chosen.

He didn’t speak too quickly or too slowly—his pacing was perfect, just enough to keep listeners hanging on, eager for more.

It wasn’t the loud, commanding voice Draven would have used. No, Reign’s tone was quieter, smoother, almost soothing. The politicians—especially the women—found themselves captivated.

Draven, watching from the side, blinked in disbelief. He’d heard his grandson talk before, but it was never like this. Reign was usually rude, unfiltered, uninterested in others’ opinions.

He thought he was the master of acting, but now, with the faintest glance, his grandson had outdone him.

Draven leaned back slightly, muttering under his breath,

’No way… His social skills are better than mine?’

Reign, catching the look from the corner of his eye, subtly shot him a sidelong glance. The message was clear, unspoken but understood:

This is how it’s done, old man.

No matter how much Draven tried, he simply couldn’t compete when it came to interacting with humans.

Reign had the natural charisma of an angel—because is one.

And on top of that, he had a skill—one he rarely used—that could amplify his charm when he chose.

It wasn’t something he needed in daily life, but today? He’d make an exception. It was time to teach his grandfather a lesson: there’s always a higher mountain.

Meanwhile, Liliana, watching from a distance, grew annoyed. She had thought Reign was just anti-social, which wasn’t uncommon for demons.

But as she hear him speak, and the way he effortlessly made the women around him fall for him, it reminded her of his father.

Raiden was also skilled with words, a well-known womanizer in his era.

Aris, seeing this, giggled and messaged her sister telepathically. "You’ve been trying to hit on Draven for decades, but you failed, and now his grandson rejected you too."

"Shut up," Liliana warned.

"Aren’t you a little too obsessed with Raiden? You’re even willing to sleep with them just because they look like him a little," Aris teased, ignoring her twin sister’s warning, continuing to pester her.

"Please stop talking," Liliana responded.

"Oh, I forgot—he actually rejected you too, and when he vanished, you just started the rumors that you slept with him,"

Aris couldn’t contain her laughter anymore. She might appear as the cool, silent sister, but in reality, she loved teasing Liliana whenever she got the chance.

This irritated the other twin, but she couldn’t really do anything about it. Aris was the stronger one between them, and she knew better than to challenge her.

"Hey, hey, you know what’s funny?" Aris continued, a mischievous grin on her face. "Me and Raiden were actually a couple. We did it pretty much every day before."

Liliana’s anger flared. She knew full well that Aris wasn’t lying—they had a way of telling when the other was being truthful.

"I bet I could get Reign to fall for me too, if I tried," Aris teased, her smirk widening. "Do you want me to do that? Because it seems like he doesn’t like you very much."

"I..." Liliana’s voice faltered, her inferiority complex starting to surface.

Seeing this, Aris immediately stopped, her expression softening. She couldn’t allow her sister to break down in front of so many people.

They worked in tandem on many things. Liliana, being the more outgoing one, often took the position of the leader.

But in reality, it was Aris who called the shots from the shadows, pretending to be the timid one while secretly pulling the strings.

As the commotion around Reign and Draven subsided, they were escorted to seats at the very front, alongside other demons who had joined the meeting.

However, their seating was far more prominent than the others. Their table bore the insignia of the alliance, glittering in gold. Even the chairs were different, more elaborate, a clear sign of the distinction in treatment.

Other Demon Gods noticed the special treatment, and while they didn’t like it, none of them dared to voice their displeasure. After all, it would be foolish to challenge the most dangerous demon in the world because of a seating arrangement.

These demons were from factions independent of the Abyssal Alliance.

Normally, they wouldn’t work with humans, but the looming threat of Hell invading the entire world was something they couldn’t ignore.

At the same time, they were eager to see Draven, the official strongest Demon God, in person.

Though they hadn’t fought him themselves, just his presence was enough to tell them he was in an entirely different league.

There was something about him, an aura that set him apart from everyone else.

Draven, sensing the stares directed at them, turned his gaze toward the others and simply smiled.