The Incubus System Chapter 1270. Not Psychopaths

The Incubus System Chapter 1270. Not Psychopaths

Syntyche blinked once.

Azrael stared like I’d grown a second head.

“I mean—” I raised both hands, backpedaling, “not just an interview! Not the awkward job kind with clipboards and resumes and 'what’s your greatest weakness’ crap. Just… something. To ensure they’re not absolute psychopaths with a sword and a boner for power.”

They both continued staring.

I exhaled. “Right. Too human.”

“Very,” Azrael said, flat.

“Ridiculously,” Syntyche added.

“But,” I said, leaning in, “what if we attach it to the quarter-finals or something. Like, once we’re down to the last few contestants. Give them a test. A trial. Make them show they’re not just brawn. But brain. And personality.”

Azrael’s brow furrowed. “You want to turn the gladiator tournament into a full-blown leadership exam?”

“Why not?” I asked. “Do you want another Lord Beel? That guy probably didn’t read a single book in the last two centuries unless it was about drink or food.”

Syntyche chuckled. “Fair point.”

“And Zatan,” I continued, “was a manipulative snake. We don’t need another idiot with a god complex running a city like it’s a personal torture chamber.”

Azrael grunted. “So what, we make them duel first, then stick them in a room and ask how they’ll manage the city?”

I smirked. “I’m not saying they need to recite policy. But I am saying we can test their priorities. Give them real problems. Civilians in danger. Corruption in their ranks. Infrastructure crisis. See how they’d react.”

Syntyche snapped her fingers. “Scenario simulation. I love it.”

Azrael’s face was a perfect mix of resistance and reluctant acceptance.

“I hate that I agree with this,” he muttered. “But… it could weed out the morons.”

I grinned. “Exactly. Let them fight first. Bleed. Prove their power. Then prove their brains.”

Syntyche leaned back, legs crossed. “It’ll also make the audience more invested. The ones watching won’t just cheer for the blood. They’ll start rooting for the smart ones. The ones who care. That’ll build legitimacy.”

“And loyalty,” I said. “Which we’ll need later.”

Azrael still didn’t look happy about it. But he nodded. “Fine. Quarter-final interviews. But no mortal-style questions.”

“Damn,” I muttered. “Guess I can’t ask about their five-year plan.”

He deadpanned. “I will stab you.”

I grinned. “With consent.”

Syntyche made a sound like she was this close to bursting out laughing. “Boys, please. Focus.”

I sat back again, mind turning.

It was starting to form.

A real plan.

Public tournament.

Quarter-final trials.

City elders present.

My father’s final approval.

It was crazy.

Messy.

Possibly chaos-inducing.

But it felt right.

Like something we could actually pull off without triggering a civil war or blowing up the remaining districts.

I leaned back in the chair, letting the ideas simmer while my fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of my goblet.

Azrael stood up with a low grunt. “Alright. That’s enough politics for me today.”

He grabbed one of the last meat skewers off the plate and tossed it into his mouth like a warrior too tired to bother with table manners. “I gotta go prep the list anyway.”

“Going to the capital?” I asked.

“Nah. My city first. Gotta check on a few of my captains. Some of them might riot if I don’t show my face and remind them I still outrank them.”

He downed the last of his wine in one impressive gulp. “Also, I’m taking these.”

He grabbed a handful of the garlic-baked demon nuts and tucked them into a cloth napkin like a dad stealing hotel buffet snacks.

“Classy,” Syntyche said dryly.

“I’m practical.” He smirked. “Anyway—don’t die, Damian. Try not to start another revolution while I’m out.”

“No promises,” I said, grinning.

He saluted two fingers to his temple, then turned and vanished through the front hall.

The heavy doors boomed softly behind him.

And just like that, the tension thinned.

Syntyche was already sliding closer on the couch before the echo faded.

She leaned in again, her scent curling around me like silk and smoke. “So?” she murmured, lips brushing my ear. “Should we continue what we did?”

My pulse immediately betrayed me.

But I inhaled sharply, steadying myself.

“I want to,” I said, voice low.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

“But,” I added, brushing some hair back from her face, “I need to go to the capital.”

She pulled back a bit, tilting her head. “Oh?”

“At least for a little while,” I said. “I need to check on my parents.”

There was a pause.

I swallowed. “And… I want to see Lilieth.”

Her smile faded just a touch, but not with jealousy. More like understanding.

“I mean,” I went on, “I want to make sure she’s okay. I barely saw her yesterday.”

Syntyche watched me for a moment. Then quietly said, “You know, Damian… you’re weird.”

I blinked. “Thanks?”

She smiled softly, brushing her fingers down my arm. “No, I mean it. Every time you talk about your parents—especially Lilieth—you get this… look. This gentle gaze like… something in you softens.”

I looked down for a second.

Then smiled faintly. “That’s because…”

I paused, fingers curling against the cushion.

“I didn’t really have good parents in the human world,” I said. “My dad was a good man—a demon hunter. Strict, but kind. He died in battle… killed by imps on his way to pick me up from college.”

Syntyche was silent now, just listening.

“And my human mom…” I sighed. “She’s an asshole. No softer way to say it. She left me and my sister with our stepdad—took the compensation money my father earned from his death and ran off.”

Syntyche winced.

“She almost got our house repossessed. I was this close to being homeless. We had to fight tooth and nail just to survive. So yeah… having any parents now—real ones who care, even if they’re demon royalty or celestial ex-generals—feels like a blessing.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Syntyche giggled.

I looked up, confused. “I know that sounded too human. Go ahead. Laugh.”

She shook her head. “No. That’s not it. It’s just… the way you talk. You sound like a kid.”

I frowned. “I’m nineteen.”

She raised a brow.

“I mean, I’m an adult,” I added quickly. “But yeah… I guess I still have my teenage mindset sometimes.”