On the left hand is a demon, and on the right hand is an angel. Слева – бес, а справа – ангел.

Глава 1

On the left hand is a demon, and on the right hand is an angel.

Love yourself, ignore the rest.

And put your ego to the test!

Soviet Cartoon «Little Devil No. 13»

Did you know that every person is born with a guardian angel on the right side and a demon on the left? The angel guides them toward light and goodness, while the demon whispers in their ear, urging them to commit unseemly acts. But angels aren’t always around. There are few angels, each with multiple charges depending on their rank. Demons, on the other hand, are countless. How the angel appears remains a mystery, so I won't tell you about that. As for demons, their endless production is simply the result of disordered relationships, not cemented by love.

Somewhere deep in Hell, a little demon was born. They say his mother was a common imp who accidentally fell under the influence of his father—a high-level incubus known for his strength. Imps and demons are naturally individualists, as the Anti-Bible states: “Love yourself more than those who begot you and those begotten by you.”

Once the imp could stand on his hind legs and stopped flopping so often, kicking his long, fluffy tail, his mother handed him over to a special children’s institution in the First Circle of Hell—and promptly forgot about him. There, the imp was given the name LHD-6-13-6-13-6-13-999999999. This series of numbers would determine his fate. The acronym stood for "little half-incubus demon," a sacred code among the Underworld’s inhabitants, indicating his father’s high status—evident in the child’s aura. The serial number was just a stroke of luck.

But that was where his luck ended. No one was about to make concessions for him.

The institution responsible for raising and training future enemies of humanity resembled a hybrid between a prison and a military academy. Nine-Nines, or NiNi as we’ll call him briefly, learned from his very first moments there the cardinal laws: “Obey those of higher rank and oppress those of lower rank,” and “Among equals, the stronger is higher.”

His fate was sealed by his bloodline. NiNi chose the path of a sexual seducer, but like all others, he started from the very basics—what they called “Sabotage.” As he grew older, his studies expanded to include numerous subjects, not to mention physical training. A demon must be strong, fast, agile, ruthless, cunning, intelligent, skilled in harnessing his dark powers, and knowledgeable about human anatomy, psychology, and energy structures—the “crowns of creation” from the Creator.

Among his peers, our little demon maintained a balanced position, adopting a personalized interpretation of one of the tenets of a certain Buddha, revered in one of the human worlds. He aimed to avoid unnecessary confrontations, measuring his strength against his opponent’s. Only when he was confident he could win would he take a risk.

More often than not, this cautious approach paid off. When it didn’t, the little demon calmly conceded victory and retreated—but only temporarily. Throughout his training, he diligently searched for weaknesses, and once found, he challenged and subdued his opponents.

Puberty brought more than just a growing attraction to the opposite sex. It also unleashed a persistent hunger that lingered even after meals—an insatiable craving that overshadowed the physical pain and moral torment of sinners he endured.

When his training concluded and he passed his exam with a fairly high score, the time came for his first assignment and charge.

---

“Just a little more! Push! The head's already crowning,” encouraged the elderly midwife, exhausted from the long labor. Finally, a triumphant cry rang out, announcing the newborn’s arrival to the world.

“A boy!” exclaimed the midwife, gazing at the bloody, wrinkled, reddish little body. “How cute!” “Cute—that’s good. Just what I need,” the demon murmured, scanning the baby’s soul. “Hmm… a blank slate.”

“Too pure,” he added with a hint of disappointment. Only a few dark karmic knots from the past caught his attention—slimy inclusions within the serene whiteness of the soul. But he couldn’t blame anyone for that. The child’s first ward was determined by a lottery—a random draw based on birth order. And now, the demon waited for his guardian angel. For some reason, the angel was delayed.

“Are you here yet?” NiNi heard a ringing voice. Moments earlier, he’d felt the unpleasant burn of angelic light and now squinted to avoid being blinded by the unfamiliar brightness.

Next to the baby, a blond, blue-eyed figure appeared and began observing with curiosity as the child was washed, dried, weighed, and a tag with his mother’s name attached to his tiny hand. The angel touched the child’s forehead with gentle fingertips, leaving behind a luminous beacon mark, then glanced at the demon—its opponent—and vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

NiNi’s lips curled into a crooked, careless smile. Before the Light One could intervene, he managed to touch his charge with a dark finger—clad in a strong, well-maintained claw—on a small, future pride of any man.

“Don’t be late! We’ll see who wins,” he thought gleefully, even though the guardian angel was level two, while he himself was only level one…