The Incubus System Chapter 1232. Not Worth The Trouble

The Incubus System Chapter 1232. Not Worth The Trouble Larry shook his head, slowly piecing things together. “So let me get this straight. M

The Incubus System Chapter 1232. Not Worth The Trouble

Larry shook his head, slowly piecing things together. “So let me get this straight. My dad was secretly working with the Association. My blood got upgraded by your dad’s divine donor juice. I got kidnapped, experimented on, and almost turned into a weapon.”

“Yup,” I said, popping the ‘p’ at the end.

“And you… gave a city-wide speech looking like Satan’s favorite model.”

“Also true.”

“…We’re gonna need therapy.”

“Don’t worry,” I said, “I’ve got a discount card from Clea. I think it covers multi trauma and mind corruption symptoms.”

He laughed, but the sound was quieter this time. Not empty—just… tired.

I leaned in again.

“Hey.”

He looked up, slow and steady, like he already knew I wasn’t about to joke this time.

“I’m really happy that you’re alive and good,” I said, my voice dropping a notch, lower than I usually let it get.

“Also… thanks. For not telling anyone about me. About the whole, you know…” I waved a vague hand in the air like that would somehow cover demon prince, glowing horns, apocalypse-grade aura, and being on the global news feed like I was launching a celebrity skincare line.

He gave me a look.

Not his usual Larry grin—big, chaotic, usually followed by something dumb.

No. This was real.

Genuine.

There was still warmth in it, but it was a little worn down at the edges. Like the Larry I knew had been through something that scraped off the polish but didn’t break the core.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, with a tiny shrug. “That’s what friends are for.”

My mouth opened to say something—anything—but he kept going. Beat me to it, like always.

“And you saved me,” he added, voice quiet but certain. “You came for me. I was basically dead. You didn’t give up. Thank you, Ethan. Really.”

I swallowed.

His tone… shifted.

It was still Larry—but it came from somewhere deeper. His fingers curled slightly around the edge of the bowl in his lap, now half-forgotten. The ice cream had melted into a sugary soup, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I… fought a lot,” he said finally. “In that place. With guards. With myself, mostly.”

I didn’t say anything.

He wasn’t done.

“There were days I thought I’d die there,” he continued, eyes fixed on nothing in particular. “I figured… if I just kept joking, maybe it wouldn’t feel so real. If I laughed, maybe I could forget the smell. Or the screams.”

My chest tightened.

“I thought about a lot of stuff,” he said. “Stuff I’d never admit out loud. Stuff I’d never even let myself think when things were normal. You know what scared me the most?”

He looked at me finally.

“Not the demons. Not the pain. Not even dying.”

I held his gaze.

“It was the thought that maybe—just maybe—no one was coming. That my friends would just… move on. Like I never existed. Because sometimes, when things get really bad… even your friends look away. Or run. Or pretend you’re not worth the trouble.”

He looked down again, like he was afraid to hold my gaze too long.

“And I didn’t want to become that guy,” he said. “The guy who disappears and no one notices.”

Silence.

Heavy.

I hated that he said that.

Hated that he felt that.

I reached over and gave his shoulder a small punch—not hard, just enough to make him jolt and look up.

“C’mon,” I said, forcing a smile that barely held. “This isn’t like you. Where’s the dramatic anime soundtrack and the sparkles?”

He blinked.

Then he laughed. Soft. Not forced.

“I know,” he said. “But hey, I kinda like being like this sometimes. Just a little serious. Keeps people guessing, right?”

I tilted my head. “Sure. Very mysterious. Tragic love interest energy.”

He grinned, slipping back into himself. “With a spoon.”

I nodded, serious as hell. “The deadliest spoon.”

“That’s me,” he said, sitting up straighter. “Larry. Spoon of Destiny.”

We both snorted at the same time, shoulders bumping like the universe had finally clicked us back into alignment. It wasn’t perfect, and it sure as hell wasn’t over.

And then—

A sound.

A very specific one.

The subtle sound of movement from the couch. A rustle. A sigh. A half-smothered giggle.

I turned my head slowly.

The couch dwellers—Puriel, Yuffy, Buni, and Shadow—were definitely not watching the TV anymore.

They were watching us.

Yuffy gave a slow clap. “Awwww. Look at you two. So emotional.”

“I thought you were watching the news,” I muttered.

“We were,” Buni said, blinking innocently. “Then the drama started here.”

“This is cute,” Puriel said.

Shadow muttered from the corner, “It’s like a bromantic soap opera. Can I puke now?”

Larry rolled his eyes. “We’re not cuddling, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Yet,” Yuffy added smugly.

Celia reappeared from the hallway, holding a clean dish towel. “Did I miss something? Why does it sound like someone confessed feelings in here?”

“I thanked him,” Larry said.

“And got all poetic,” I added. “He almost cried.”

“I did not!”

“I felt it.”

“Bro, don’t make me emotionally regress.”

“I dare you to emotionally regress.”

Miranda, still seated on the armrest, sipped her water and said, “This is more dramatic than my favorite soap opera.”

“Should we leave you two alone?” Buni asked, tilting his head.

“No,” I said.

“Yes,” Larry said at the same time.

Everyone laughed.

It felt light.

Good.

Warm in the chest, even with all the past horror clinging to the edge of our words.

But the laughter didn’t last.

Not because of anything anyone said.

But because—

my phone rang.

Brrrzt. Brrrzt.

I blinked. “Uh?”

Everyone turned.

Yuffy looked over. “Who’s calling you this late?”

“Not sure…” I said, glancing around the room. “Wait—I left it near the TV.”

I stood up, walked past a stack of throw pillows and Red’s lazy form, and grabbed the phone off the low shelf.

The screen lit up.

And everything in my stomach sank.

My hand froze.

“Ethan?” Miranda said, noticing the shift in my face. “Who is it?”

I stared at the name flashing across the screen.

Larry’s mom.