Wayne suddenly remembers his Hell alter-ego, the Demon Bat.
Born from the Altar of Pride, possessing a portion of the Seven Deadly Sins, it belongs to the relatively gifted newborn devils.
From birth to present, it's been barely a year and a half, not even two years old; in human terms, an infant still unweaned.
The Demon Bat was taken away by the Hell Gate just after birth. As a reincarnated avatar, lacking inner thought, let alone intelligence, it doesn't even possess basic sentience, and combined with mediocre strength...
Aside from being handsome, it's good for nothing, just a dish on a devil's standard dinner table in Hell.
Wayne suspects the creature is already dead, unless some she-devil overwhelmed by maternal instincts took it home to raise as a child.
"Forget it, it's not important. It's not like I was counting on it to be useful."
Wayne fixed his gaze on the Giant Python below; the devil's breath was unmistakable, and he couldn't possibly be wrong.
