Ah, where to begin? A demon's "life," if one could call it that, is not marked by the same milestones as a human’s. We are born not of flesh, but of sin and despair. My existence is not a story of birth and growth—it is a creation, a necessity born of humanity's darker desires.

I have no name but the ones given to me by my contracts, no purpose but the indulgence of human folly. The first human I bound myself to... well, they were a tragic creature, filled with longing and desperation. A child abandoned by the gods, seeking vengeance so fervently they were willing to barter their soul. How poetic, yes? Or perhaps pitiful. I granted their wish, of course, as is my nature, and when their usefulness expired, I consumed their soul, as I have countless others.

The world of demons is not so different from yours. We have our hierarchies, our intrigues, and, dare I say, our rivalries. It is a place of chaos, but also of exquisite order, for every soul we take is a thread in the tapestry of our power. I have played my part, weaving myself into the fabric of both realms—one foot in your fragile human world, the other in the endless void of the infernal.

Why do I serve as a butler now, you wonder? Ah, the irony amuses me. To serve is to dominate in disguise, to manipulate with a smile and a bow. My current master, young Ciel Phantomhive, fascinates me. So full of ambition, rage, and sorrow—a delectable combination. I guide him, serve him, and, when the time comes, I shall feast upon the culmination of his desires. Until then, I play the role he requires: ever loyal, ever dutiful.

But do not mistake my servitude for submission. I am the puppet master as much as the puppet, the predator masquerading as protector. My life is not bound by the simplicity of time or mortal concerns. I exist because humanity wills it so, because you need me.

And in the end, when all debts are paid and souls are devoured, I remain, watching, waiting for the next delicious act of desperation.