The Incubus System Chapter 1202. Totally Unholy
The Incubus System Chapter 1202. Totally Unholy Everyone suddenly looked a little more sober. Nefaris swirled her wine absently, staring int
The Incubus System Chapter 1202. Totally Unholy
Everyone suddenly looked a little more sober.
Nefaris swirled her wine absently, staring into it like it might whisper answers. “Does that mean they’re going to target you?”
I paused.
That was the question, wasn’t it?
I stared ahead at nothing in particular, my mind spiraling around the possibilities. The Light Dimension. The humans. The demon realm too—my own realm.
I mean… I didn’t do anything wrong. Right?
I didn’t ask for this bloodline, this power, this damn spotlight. So in theory, they shouldn’t have a reason to target me. Shouldn’t.
But that word—“shouldn’t”—doesn’t mean shit when it comes to angels, or demons with egos older than time.
Maybe that’s the problem. It’s not about what I’ve done. It’s about what I am. A Nephilim. A hybrid mistake. A walking contradiction that challenges their precious systems.
A proof that something slipped through. That their lines blurred. And that’s what terrifies them. That’s what pisses them off.
So maybe they don’t need a reason. Maybe my existence is the reason.
Maybe they look at me and see something that doesn’t belong—and all they want is to erase it.
To erase me.
I tried to laugh it off. A breath, really. But there was no humor in it.
Just that sharp, cold certainty sinking in—like a needle slipping beneath skin.
So yeah… they probably want me gone.
I finally shook my head and said, “I don’t know. But 70% yeah, they’re going to target me.”
The room stayed quiet. No one interrupted. They just listened.
“I suppose I shouldn’t exist, right?” I muttered. “And yet… here I am.”
The silence started to feel heavier than my own words. Until I felt something.
Arms.
Syntyche came up to me and hugged me.
Not the seductive kind of hug she gave when teasing. This was… real. Gentle. Grounded.
“You know you shouldn’t talk like that,” she murmured near my ear, her spider legs folding slightly behind her to give space. “I mean, you just painted yourself as someone who shouldn’t exist.”
Her body was cool but comforting. Her aura hummed like silk stretched tight—not overpowering, but real enough to remind me I wasn’t alone.
But before I could reply, Licheri, who had been floating mid-air while plucking demonic power strings off some poor twitching demon, chimed in without missing a beat. “Or someone who has serious problems with his confidence.”
I pulled back slightly from Syntyche, glancing at him. “I’m just stating facts.”
He rotated mid-air, doing a slow upside-down spin like some smug plush toy. “Mm-hm. And next you’ll say the sky is falling because someone looked at you wrong.”
“They said the same thing to Erebus,” I replied, voice lower now. “They didn’t like him either.”
Licheri’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment he looked unusually serious. He scoffed, let his floating victim drop with a wet splat, then zipped toward me—spinning once mid-air before flipping upright and landing with a dramatic bounce right in front of me.
Then he floated closer until his jelly body almost bumped against my chest. His whole body pulsed with a faint spark, like he was making a point without needing limbs.
“But you aren’t Erebus,” he said, voice firm.
I blinked.
That… actually caught me off guard.
“I know that,” I said, defensive.
“No, listen,” he said, floating up until he was eye-level with me—well, sort of. “You aren’t Erebus. You are you. And I don’t care what any realm says—you didn’t break the world by existing. You just made it more interesting.”
I stared at him.
I didn’t expect that from Licheri. Not the little chaos cotton ball who turned demons into soufflé for fun.
I felt something twist in my chest.
Touched?
Maybe.
Almost smiled.
Almost.
But then—
“Yeah, Erebus had more dignity,” Licheri added cheerfully, spinning in the air like a child’s possessed balloon. “You? You f*ck around with women, demonesses, even an angel. You’re completely perverted. Totally unholy. Like, you are literally the Lust City poster boy!”
His entire body pulsed dramatically—waves of glowing white, pink, and gold rippling across his surface like a rave light. Sparkles shot off in every direction, like he was doing a one-man fireworks display.
He struck a mid-air spin, stopped, then hovered in front of me with all the flare of a performer waiting for applause.
“You are perfectly fit to be this city’s lord! Nyahahahaha~!”
Leon, unfazed, gave a single nod like it was gospel truth.
Curtis, still casually sketching, didn’t even glance up. “He’s not wrong. Statistically speaking, your harem expansion rate is… impressively consistent.”
I stared at Licheri. Deadpan. Slow.
‘…This shitty lil ball…’
Licheri floated closer, eyes pulsing like smug headlights. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Mr. Dark-and-Broody. I hear everything in this city, remember? All the moans, fantasies, dirty thoughts. You think I don’t get a front-row seat to your fan club’s psychic noise?”
“Licheri,” I warned.
He bounced once in place like a demonic squeaky toy. “Wanna know what the lovely ladies think of you when you’re not looking? Nefaris?” He turned with a swirl. “Wants your cock and your blood. Together. Preferably in a candle-lit dungeon with her name carved into your chest.”
Nefaris choked on her wine. “W-What? That’s a total fabrication!” Her cheeks flushed crimson. “I—I never said candlelight!”
I raised an eyebrow.
She turned away with a mutter. “It was torches.”
Licheri wasn’t done.
“And the spider queen?” he said, spinning midair again, throwing a glittery trail toward Syntyche. “Wants two rounds minimum. One to f*ck the arrogance out of you. One after you beg.”
Syntyche’s wine glass froze midair. “Excuse me?!” she hissed. Her cheeks bloomed a shade redder than her lipstick. “That is a gross exaggeration. I said I could—not that I would!”
Licheri tilted in place. “You also said he looked cute when groaning.”
Syntyche looked away, sipping her wine in silence. “No comment.”
“And Miranda?” Licheri turned with a dramatic gasp. “Oh, her dreams—”
“No,” Miranda snapped, cheeks now faintly pink. “Don’t.”