That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B!

Finn was utterly exhausted from playing the good guy.

Unlike the other Suzukis across the multiverse who were given the luxury of becoming better people in relatively stable worlds, Finn had no such choice. The supernatural world of High School DxD was ruled strictly by the law of the jungle.

The strong devoured the weak, and the weak died.

Yes, he had been born with the immense privilege of a High-Class Devil, but maintaining that privilege required ruthless, unending hardship. If he wanted to, he could have just locked himself in his Underworld territory and lived a stable, quiet life. With his wealth and power, acquiring women would have been effortless—competence and absolute authority were the ultimate aphrodisiacs for both humans and supernatural beings.

While Issei Hyoudou might aggressively gather all the primary heroines of the universe, were they the only females in existence? Hardly. Finn didn’t need to steal the protagonist’s entire harem to be satisfied. But because he had found Akeno, and because he treasured her deeply despite the endless political baggage she brought, he was going to see this through to the absolute end.

Patting Akeno gently on the waist, Finn returned to his cynical thoughts. He was so incredibly tired of binding himself with moral laws and playing by the conventional ’rules’ of the world.

He had realized a bitter truth about this universe: the antagonists could commit the most heinous, apocalyptic atrocities and still somehow live comfortably. Instead of spending their lives rotting in misery, they constantly returned to either enjoy their freedom or continue their obsessive, petty revenge against the main character.

If Finn acted completely benevolent, the supernatural factions would bear their fangs and treat him like easy prey. So, instead of constantly stressing over defensive politics, a dark, intrusive thought had crossed his mind: Why not just unseal Trihexa, the apocalyptic beast 666, and let it burn the world to ash?

Was he crazy for even considering it? Did he want to destroy the world and himself?

Frankly, Finn didn’t think it was that crazy. Trihexa was, at its core, a mindless beast of mass destruction. With the Manager’s absolute calculation and domination protocols, he might actually be able to hijack the beast’s control systems. He would gain the ultimate bodyguard, and Cao Cao’s Hero Faction would suddenly have a real monster to fight to prove their ’heroism.’

Wasn’t that a beautiful win-win scenario? Finn would live happily ever after, and the Hero Faction would get slaughtered trying to save the world.

He wasn’t afraid of the Hindu Pantheon, nor the Chinese Pantheon. Why? Because he was a Devil born from the Christian Mythology. If push came to shove, there were countless ways for him to unite the fractured remnants of the Biblical factions under his banner. He didn’t actively want a world war, but if the other Pantheons forced his hand, he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

Fortunately, he had instructed the Manager to synthesize the Self-Made ability using his Demonic Power. He never expected Indra, the Hindu King of Gods, to passively deploy absolute Precognition and Mind-Reading against him.

Yet, when Finn bluntly informed the two deities that their powers had been perfectly countered, both Indra and Sun Wukong fell dead silent.

Adaptation.

As long as a power was used against him, his biology would analyze, adjust, evolve, and eventually become completely immune to it. Sun Wukong hadn’t wanted to believe it, but a quick glance at Indra confirmed the terrifying truth: the God of Thunder was completely locked out of the Devil boy’s mind.

”What exactly do you want?” Indra demanded, his divine patience fraying.

”Now we’re talking,” Finn sighed, rubbing his chest dramatically. ”My entire body is still throbbing from being burned alive by the Holy Light. If I wasn’t so ridiculously durable, I would be ash right now. And here you are, asking me to forgive the terrorist who orchestrated my assassination. I’d much rather hunt him and his little friends down right now. But... looking at your face...”

”I said, what do you want?!” Indra snapped, genuinely irritated.

Yet, beneath his anger, Indra was deeply wary. Finn was an anomaly. Indra’s absolute Mind-Reading was the cornerstone of his political supremacy; it allowed him to perfectly predict and manipulate his enemies. To be completely shut out by a young Devil was infuriating.

Balam... Indra thought, his mind racing.

In the Underworld, the Balam Pillar was only known for super strength and magic resistance. But in ancient human theology, the true myth of Balaam was that of a Mesopotamian diviner—a pagan prophet hired to curse the Israelites, but who was forced by God to deliver profound, absolutely accurate prophecies instead.

Did this Devil somehow awaken that prophetic authority?

The Biblical God was dead, but the Christian Mythology was still booming. Without their Creator managing the system, strange, apocalyptic mutations were occurring within the supernatural world.

What a vile, yet utterly fascinating creature, Indra mused.

Despite facing the literal King of Gods and the Monkey King, Finn remained perfectly calm. He commanded the conversation as if he were in the lead, which was true, but it annoyed Indra; yet, it also earned his begrudging respect.

”I want the Peaches of Immortality, the Elixir of Life, and the Divine Wine,” Finn demanded smoothly.

”....” Akeno and Sun Wukong stared at him in sheer disbelief.

”Acceptable,” Indra agreed without missing a beat.

Sun Wukong opened his mouth to violently protest, but swallowed his words with a heavy sigh. I guess I’m just going to have to steal them from Heaven again, the monkey thought bitterly.

”I also want to learn the 72 Earthly Transformations, the Cloud Somersault, the 36 Heavenly Transformations, the recipe for Soma (Divine Nectar), every viable cultivation technique you have on file, and I want you to teach me proper Senjutsu,” Finn rattled off his extortion list effortlessly.

”Y-YOU GREEDY LITTLE BASTARD!” Sun Wukong exploded in outrage.

”Says the monkey who ate an entire heavenly orchard,” Finn rolled his eyes, utterly immune to Wukong’s hypocrisy.

”....” Sun Wukong clamped his mouth shut, fuming.

”...You wish to learn both Chinese and Hindu cultivation techniques?” Indra asked, genuinely surprised.

”I want to test the market,” Finn nodded. ”Unlike the Christian mythological system—where our power is strictly capped by our bloodline and given to us at birth—your factions operate on entirely different mechanical principles.”

”And what principles are those?”

Hard work? Dedication? Enlightenment?

Sun Wukong and Indra waited for the Devil to praise their systems. After all, unlike the rigid Devil hierarchy, anyone in their mythologies could theoretically reach the apex if they cultivated hard enough.

”Rigged meritocracy,” Finn stated flatly.

”...” Sun Wukong and Akeno both choked.

”Am I wrong?” Finn smirked. ”Take the Journey to the West. Whenever you faced a wild demon with no political backing, you slaughtered them without hesitation. But whenever you fought a demon who happened to be the pet, servant, or mount of a powerful celestial bureaucrat? They got a slap on the wrist and went home. The game was rigged from the start.”

Sun Wukong desperately wanted to argue, but the words died in his throat. It was the absolute, undeniable truth. When he was young, he hadn’t understood the political rules of the heavens, and he had been crushed under a mountain for 500 years because of it. Now? He understood the game perfectly. As long as his current boss, Indra, agreed to the terms, Wukong could only follow orders.

”You are incredibly cynical, Devil Boy,” Indra chuckled darkly. ”You should be glad you’ve caught my interest.”

”Thank you. As long as the compensation clears, we have a deal. If not, I hunt Cao Cao to the ends of the Earth.”

”Spoken like a true Devil,” Indra nodded, deeply satisfied. To a God playing a long-term cosmic game, transactional greed was vastly more reliable than self-righteous morality.

”Oh, and regarding the Peaches of Immortality,” Finn added casually. ”I want the pits and the seeds too. I plan to cultivate an orchard in the Underworld.”

”.....” Sun Wukong stared at him, horrified by the sheer intellectual property theft.

”Once the harvest is ripe, I’ll send you a complimentary fruit basket,” Finn offered.

”Wukong,” Indra’s voice dropped to a heavy, commanding octave.

”Alright, alright! I’ll teach him!” Sun Wukong sighed, feeling the crushing weight of middle management.

Just like in human corporate structures, the success of the subordinates belonged to the boss, but the massive headaches were pushed down to the workers.

”One last thing,” Finn said, his golden eyes turning ice-cold. ”Tell your little pet project, Cao Cao, to clean up his own mess. He wanted to be a hero? Fine. Have him wipe out the faction that originally put the bounty on my Queen’s head.”

”Deal,” Indra agreed effortlessly. ”I will order the Hero Faction to completely erase the Five Principal Clans of Japan.”

”Are you entirely sure you want to make an enemy of the Japanese Pantheon?” Finn asked, testing the God.

”I do not care about them. They are nothing but a group of isolated shut-ins,” Indra scoffed dismissively.

It was true. The Shinto Gods rarely, if ever, projected their power beyond their island borders. Even if Cao Cao slaughtered the Five Principal Clans, Indra wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over their complaints.

”Cao Cao is currently too weak anyway,” Finn noted. ”If he’s going to be the vanguard for your grand ambition, he needs to farm some experience points to level up. Japan is the perfect grinding zone.”

”...Grinding zone? Level up? Like an RPG game?” Indra asked, slightly confused by the terminology.

”You really have too much free time. You should study modern human culture,” Finn advised drily.

”Human trivialities do not concern me,” Indra dismissed the thought. ”Instead, since you are so unfathomably greedy, let us see if you actually possess the talent to master the techniques you demanded. Wukong, begin his instruction.”

”....”

Sun Wukong looked at Finn, rubbing his furry temples. ”Should we... begin your training now?”

”Can I follow you when you go break into Heaven to steal the peaches?” Finn asked eagerly.

”LEARN THE BASICS FIRST, YOU BRAT!”

As Sun Wukong yelled, a profound, chilling realization washed over the ancient monkey. He suddenly understood exactly how his old master, Patriarch Subhuti, had felt all those centuries ago.

Subhuti had been so terrified of what Wukong would become that he strictly forbade the monkey from ever revealing who had trained him, fearing he would be caught in the inevitable cosmic fallout.

Why did Wukong suddenly relate to that fear?

Because looking at Finn’s calculating, unapologetically greedy smirk, Wukong knew with absolute certainty that this Devil was going to turn the entire universe upside down.