The Incubus System Chapter 1317. Tell Me The Game

The Incubus System Chapter 1317. Tell Me The Game

Hair turned midnight blue, cascading like liquid velvet.

Eyes? Molten garnet. Sharp and knowing.

My body? Leaner, more defined. Every muscle designed to seduce.

I rolled my neck with a soft crack and said, “Tell me the game.”

A pause.

Yeah. Even the boldest of them—Pearl, Diamond, Zalira—took a beat. Because flipping between Ethan and Damian wasn’t just cosplay. It was possession. Like I borrowed my own body and made it something else entirely.

But I saw it. The gleam in their eyes. The thirst.

They loved this version of me. The sharp-edged, velvet-voiced glutton who wore lust like a crown.

Pearl smirked first, brushing her hair back over her shoulder.

“Now this… this is what I like.”

Diamond’s tentacles twitched behind her, slowly coiling around her bare thighs.

She stepped forward, a dark glint in her smile. “The game’s a bit different now.”

I arched a brow. “Different how?”

“There are two stacks of cards.”

She pointed behind her—two neat piles sat on a silver tray.

Black and crimson. One glowing faintly, one pulsing softly like a heartbeat.

“You only get to pick one,” Pearl said. “We take the other.”

My grin widened. “Can I read them first?”

Diamond’s smile deepened, twisted.

“Nope. You have to choose blind. Then improvise.”

I hummed low in my throat. “Interesting. High stakes.”

Pearl’s voice dripped like honey down my spine. “The way we like it.”

I leaned forward slightly, legs still wide, giving them the full silhouette of what they’d awoken.

My voice dipped, silk and smoke.

“Right.” I exhaled. “Let’s play.”

The scent of oil, demonic aura, and heat lingered around the couch like a cloud. The girls were watching with a mix of smugness and anticipation, all eyes on me as I picked up the next card from the crimson stack, flicking it between my fingers.

It felt warm.

Humming with something I couldn’t quite name.

I flipped it, expecting some pervy dare, some spicy challenge—but instead?

Just one word.

Camila.

No action. No description. Just a name.

I blinked.

“I—uh. This one just says Camila?”

Silence.

Then movement.

Camila, sitting cross-legged near the chaise lounge, wearing one of those soft white robes that barely clung to her curves, straightened with a slow, resigned breath.

Her eyes met mine.

“Oh… my turn then.”

She stood. Everyone turned.

I raised an eyebrow. “Wait—your turn to do what?”

Camila didn’t answer right away. Instead, she walked slowly to the card table, plucked a card from the black deck with a little grin like she was being cheeky.

Then she read it.

Her grin dropped.

Color drained from her face.

“…Oh come on.” Her voice cracked with disbelief.

She turned the card around, showed it to Pearl.

Pearl took one look, burst out laughing.

Diamond choked.

Ruby wheezed.

Even Puriel stifled a startled cough and muttered, “That’s… bold.”

Camila stared at them, her entire posture a mix of horror and hot embarrassment. “Seriously? This is just the beginning of the game!”

Maria leaned back with a smirk. “Oh dear. Right on the first round? I guess your plan to intimidate and tease Ethan just… backfired.”

I tilted my head. “Wait, wait. Is that bad for me or for her?”

Camila didn’t answer. Her face was red. Flushed deep.

She looked like a teenager caught reading smut in church.

Ruby stretched her arms, bones cracking. “Or,” she said with a wicked grin, “you can give the card to me. I don’t mind at all.”

Camila snapped, “No.”

She took a breath, realigned her composure, and turned to me. Still flushed. Still holding that pride together with tape and trembling fingers.

“Room number 1. West wing. I’ll wait for you.”

Oh.

Okay.

I slowly sat up straighter. “Uh… just asking. How many rooms are there, again?”

Camila, crossing her arms beneath her chest, muttered, “Around 40. Or 50. I forgot. This used to be a resort for corporate retreats and group vacations.”

I froze.

That explained… so much.

I scanned the group. The space. The hot spring setup. The giant private rooms. The sheer amount of absurd comfort—

“Oh.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I get it now.”

Camila turned without another word. But Ivy and Maria stood immediately.

Maria tapped her lips. “We’ll help you get ready, Camila.”

Ivy winked at me. “Your Highness, don’t keep her waiting too long.”

They disappeared into the hallway after her, murmuring in low, teasing voices.

The rest turned to me.

I sat there, still hard from earlier worship, still caught somewhere between laughter and... something else. Something a little heavier.

“You know,” I said, voice light, “this feels really… planned. I thought it was just spontaneous.”

Pearl raised an eyebrow and tilted her head like a cat who’d been waiting to pounce.

“Oh, it is planned.”

Diamond’s voice was quieter, more sincere as she leaned against the armrest of the long divan. Her eyes, usually sharp with teasing or fire, softened.

“We planned this for a long time.”

She looked at me like she was seeing something I hadn’t noticed myself.

“Because you’re always busy. And…”

Her words slowed.

“You looked tired. Like the first man we met—months ago—was fading. You matured too fast.”

I felt it hit me in the chest. Not the usual sultry dagger. This was… something else.

Celia, who had been sitting on the floor with her legs pulled to her chest, hugged her knees tighter.

“To be honest?” she said, her voice small but clear. “This is the first time we’ve seen you laugh like you used to. Like you’re supposed to.”

I opened my mouth to brush it off with some clever joke.

But she beat me to it.

“But you yelled at me,” I said instead, like a kid complaining.

Celia pouted, cheeks puffed. “Hey! That can’t be helped! You just ran to the beach like a dumb little boy.”

Tiffany muttered, “He is a little boy. Like a real one. But with swords. And demonic power. And abs.”

Emma added, with her usual motherly grace, “And… with huge responsibilities.”

Puriel’s voice dropped the softest.

“Too many responsibilities.”