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Fein's gaze swept across the room, his eyes landing on the 36 Satans gathered before him. Among them, one figure stood out like a beacon in the darkness, capturing Fein's attention instantly. It was Lucifer, the epitome of elegance and beauty. His features were chiseled to perfection, each line and curve carefully sculpted. His hair, black as the night itself, cascaded down his back in waves, framing a face that could have belonged to an angel. Lucifer's eyes, a mesmerizing shade of deep crimson, held an otherworldly allure, drawing Fein's gaze like a moth to a flame.

Fein couldn't help but be captivated by Lucifer's presence. It was as if a living masterpiece stood before him, a work of art brought to life. He admired the way Lucifer carried himself, exuding confidence and authority with every step. There was an aura of power surrounding him, an air of someone who was born to rule.

As Fein's attention shifted to the others, he mentally identified each Satan by name. Beelzebub, a hulking figure with a rugged charm, stood not far from Lucifer. His physique was imposing, his muscular frame a testament to his strength. His eyes, a piercing amber, held a hint of mischief, giving away his mischievous nature.

Next to Beelzebub stood Belphegor, a demon with an air of laziness about him. His disheveled appearance and half-lidded eyes suggested a perpetual state of indifference. Yet, beneath that casual exterior, Fein sensed a keen intellect and cunning. Belphegor's smirking lips hinted at a wicked sense of humor, ready to unleash a clever jest at any given moment.

Fein's perceptive gaze swept over the remaining Satans, taking in their unique features and characteristics. Each one possessed their own allure, their own distinct presence that set them apart in this gathering of powerful beings.

As Fein observed the Satans, he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through his veins. He knew that standing before them meant facing formidable opponents, each with their own strengths and ambitions. But instead of fear, Fein's heart was filled with anticipation.

He saw this as an opportunity to test his strength, to challenge himself against the very best that the Middle Abyss had to offer.

As Fein stood before the 36 Satans, a ripple of curiosity spread among them. Beelzebub, always keenly observant, couldn't help but find himself intrigued by Fein's presence. He focused his attention on Fein, attempting to gauge his power and capabilities. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, Beelzebub couldn't sense the faintest trace of magical energy emanating from Fein. It was as if Fein's power was shrouded in a veil of secrecy, hidden from prying eyes.

Beelzebub's brows furrowed slightly as he pondered this anomaly. His mind raced with questions, trying to make sense of what he was witnessing. It was rare to encounter someone whose magic power remained completely undetectable. Beelzebub's thoughts tumbled in his mind, contemplating the implications of Fein's hidden strength. Could it be that Fein possessed a power that transcended conventional means of detection? Or perhaps there was something unique about him that eluded their understanding?

Meanwhile, Lucifer, the epitome of beauty and grace, found himself experiencing an unfamiliar sensation—a twinge of nervousness that coursed through his veins. As he locked eyes with Fein, a sense of impending doom washed over him. His heart pounded in his chest, betraying the calm facade he usually wore. Deep within him, a voice whispered, warning him of the danger that lay before them.

Lucifer's handsome features betrayed a flicker of unease, quickly masked by his composed demeanor. He tried to convince himself that what he felt was merely an illusion, a fleeting trick of his mind. After all, he was Lucifer, the great ruler of the Middle Abyss, feared by many. Yet, as his gaze lingered on Fein, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that his life hung in the balance, as if facing a formidable opponent who held the power to challenge his very existence.

In the midst of this silent exchange, Beelzebub's mind whirled with thoughts, contemplating Fein's hidden strength. He couldn't deny the possibility that Fein posed a threat, one that surpassed their expectations. It was a rare occurrence, to witness a force that eluded their detection. As Beelzebub's eyes locked with Fein's, he couldn't help but acknowledge the enigma standing before them, the enigma that held the potential to shatter their preconceived notions.

Lucifer, on the other hand, struggled to maintain his composure. His heart raced, his mind filled with conflicting emotions. He had faced countless adversaries in the past, but this encounter felt different. It felt like a pivotal moment, one that would shape the future of the Middle Abyss.

As the atmosphere in the room grew tense, the rest of the Satans, aside from Lucifer and Beelzebub, held a vastly different opinion of Fein. To them, he was nothing more than trash, an arrogant demon who didn't comprehend the true extent of their power. Their expressions were etched with disdain and condescension, their gazes laced with contempt as they regarded Fein.

The room filled with the Satans' jeers and taunts, their arrogance oozing from every pore. They regarded Fein as nothing more than a piece of trash, an annoying gnat that they couldn't wait to swat away. Their expressions were twisted with disdain, their smirks revealing their complete lack of respect.

"Look at this clown," one of them scoffed, his voice dripping with contempt. "Thinks he can challenge us? Hah! I've seen dust particles with more power than him!"

The Satans erupted in laughter, their voices mingling in a cacophony of mockery. They belittled Fein, underestimating him to the extreme. Their overinflated egos blinded them to the true threat he posed.

Another Satan, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight, raised his hand high in the air, his face twisted in a wicked grin. "I volunteer to teach this fool a lesson!" he declared, his voice dripping with arrogance.

The room erupted with cheers and jeers, the Satans egging on their chosen champion. They reveled in their certainty of Fein's imminent defeat, their smug expressions amplifying their arrogance.

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