The Incubus System Chapter 1255. Shortcut

The Incubus System Chapter 1255. Shortcut

I pointed down. “There’s conduit below. Worst case, you swing from one of those.”

She gave me a look. “Do I look like a low-tier thief rogue?”

“No,” I said, grinning. “You look like a goddess who can make a web strong enough to catch me mid-fall.”

She rolled her eyes and stepped forward, threads of near-invisible silk spinning from her fingertips. A graceful flick—then she launched a line forward and anchored it to the nearest intact segment of railing.

Meanwhile, I eyed the distance to the other side.

Then shrugged.

“Shortcut.”

I flicked two fingers upward.

‘Teleportation.’

A ripple tore through space, and in a blink, I reappeared on the other side of the broken bridge—standing casually on solid ground, hands in my pockets, coat fluttering slightly from the shift.

Behind me, Syntyche just stared.

“Seriously?” she deadpanned, mid-step, balancing on a web line she’d just slung across the gap like a graceful assassin in heels.

“You look like you’re having fun,” I said, smirking. “Didn’t want to interrupt your little rooftop trapeze act.”

She gave me a look that promised at least one form of death.

“My legs are still jelly from the last two hours,” she hissed. “If I fall because you wanted to be dramatic—”

“Correction. I wanted to be efficient,” I called back. “Drama’s just a bonus.”

She groaned but kept moving, stringing silk threads across each support beam with the kind of balance that’d make gods weep and acrobats quit. Her web stuck with a faint snap to each anchor point, her body poised, her hair catching the ambient holy light still seeping off the structure.

She was gorgeous.

Ridiculous. But gorgeous.

“Can’t believe I agreed to this,” she muttered, landing lightly beside me after a final leap.

“Mm,” I said. “But you did agree.”

She narrowed her eyes. “So. When we get the blade—do I get another reward?”

I grinned.

“You planning to earn another one?”

She leaned in just enough for her breath to kiss the edge of my jaw.

“I already did,” she whispered. “Just by putting up with your smug teleporting ass.”

“Then I’ll give you something extra,” I said, watching the faint flush rise on her cheeks. “Later.”

She rolled her eyes and kept walking ahead, silk heels tapping the concrete with predatory ease like this whole sabotage mission was just a walk down some cursed runway.

We resumed our walk toward the main vault doors—both of us calm, casual, totally ignoring the high-level magical warding still sparking from the gate’s exploded edge.

The air buzzed with faint mana charge, the kind that made your skin feel like static and guilt, and my instincts started to itch halfway across the main lobby.

And that’s when I said it.

“You know, I’m actually kinda shocked they aren’t—”

I didn’t even get to finish.

Because they showed up.

Right on cue.

Boots.

Heavy ones.

Clanking against metal grates as at least ten soldiers—military, not demon hunters—rushed out from behind the walls, from service elevators, from the far door. They were geared in matte black, helmets humming with enchantment circuits, chest armor plated with sigils that reeked of holy-ward interference.

And in their hands?

Guns.

Or… mana rifles, more accurately. Long-barreled, high-pressure models with shimmering capacitor cores and crystal chambers pulsing with a dull purple glow. Definitely high-tier. Definitely not meant for parades.

They surrounded us in a wide crescent, fingers hovering over triggers, a few of them trembling.

Because yeah—

They recognized me.

I gave them a deadpanned stare. Like, full-on unimpressed “you messed up by clocking in today” energy. I tilted my head slightly, then said, with absolute boredom.

“Let’s cut the crap.”

A few flinched.

“You know you can’t kill me with those toys,” I continued, stepping forward slightly. Not threatening. Just real. “I’m not here to destroy your facility—yet. I came to take what’s mine.”

Silence.

I gestured loosely toward the deeper hallway. “The blade. The cursed weapon. I killed the bastard. That makes it my loot.”

Still silence. Still a few twitchy fingers on triggers.

“I don’t like humans taking my loot,” I added calmly. “It makes me feel disrespected. And when I feel disrespected, people tend to get real familiar with the floor.”

One of them—older, maybe in his late forties, with white streaks in his buzzcut and a sigil captain’s badge on his shoulder—finally stepped forward. The other soldiers parted just enough to let him through.

“I’m Colonel Jakes,” he said, voice level but tight. “We weren’t informed of your arrival.”

“Yeah, I didn’t book a table,” I replied. “Didn’t feel like filing paperwork today.”

He didn’t smile. But he didn’t raise his gun either.

“That blade is under quarantine,” he said. “It’s too unstable. We were ordered to secure it and prevent—”

“No,” I interrupted.

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

“No,” I repeated, louder this time, sharp enough to echo in the vault’s upper level. “That’s mine. You don’t secure demonic loot like it’s a science project. You don’t understand it. You think mana containment runes are gonna stop a cursed relic from evolving? From possessing your entire weapons team?”

He swallowed visibly.

“And you definitely don’t let it sit in your basement while you try to reverse-engineer it for military-grade deployment.”

I took one more step forward.

“I’m not here to negotiate. I’m here to collect. Get out of my way.”

There was a pause. A long one.

Then Colonel Jakes lifted a hand, signaling the others to lower their weapons—reluctantly.

“We’ll escort you,” he said. “Just to be clear… the weapon’s sealed inside a controlled zone. You may not like the precautions.”

I laughed.

Not a little chuckle. A full absurd laugh that bounced off the walls and made the soldiers flinch like I’d just pulled a sword from thin air.

“Escorting me?” I said, still laughing. “I already know where the weapon is. Just stop blocking the path. That’s all I need.”

He paused. Then sighed like a man realizing he was two pay grades underqualified for this shit.

“…Understood.”