Seven Sins System Chapter 774. Two More Demons
Seven Sins System Chapter 774. Two More Demons
Algan finally zipped the now mostly empty bag closed. When he stood, the bag looked pathetically flat compared to its original swollen, death-filled glory.
“I am ready,” he said again, clearly proud of his restraint.
I nodded slowly.
Luci clapped once, clearly entertained by everything.
“Well,” he said, adjusting his coat elegantly, “I have my wine, Lieutenant has… emotional support discipline, and you have your medical textbooks. Truly, we are unstoppable.”
I stared at him.
“You are not bringing the crystal decanter set. That thing is infernal. Yours is enchanted. You can’t bring it. It would be a problem for mortals… and the students.”
He clutched his chest.
“You wound me again.”
Diablo watched all of this with the calm patience of someone observing children argue over artillery.
Finally, he spoke.
“You need to depart now.”
His voice didn’t rise. It never did. It didn’t need to.
I crossed my arms, leaning one shoulder against the edge of his desk, wings shifting slightly behind me.
“Why do I feel like you want to get rid of us?” I asked casually.
Diablo didn’t blink. Didn’t sigh. Didn’t even pretend to consider diplomacy.
“You give me a headache.”
I stared at him.
Then I smirked slowly, tilting my head. “Oh, that’s new. Usually you give me headaches. By throwing all your responsibilities at me.”
Behind me, Luci choked out a laugh he tried to disguise as a cough.
Algan stood rigid as ever, though I caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Ivy covered hers with her hand, clearly trying not to laugh out loud in front of the King of Hell.
Diablo rested his chin lightly against his knuckles, studying me like I was a chess piece he had already sacrificed and brought back twice for strategic advantage.
“This time is different,” he said simply.
I narrowed my eyes.
“I know,” I replied. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be wearing your kingly suit while the rest of us are stuck remembering you in beach shirts, shorts, and flip flops.”
Luci snorted.
Algan looked confused, which meant he was mentally trying to imagine Diablo wearing flip flops and was failing catastrophically.
Diablo’s expression remained unchanged, but there was a faint narrowing of his eyes that told me I had scored a direct hit.
“Good thing you know,” he said dryly.
I pushed off the desk, stretching slightly, letting my wings flex once more before folding them tight behind me. The conversation was over. The order had been given. The mission clock had started ticking again, whether any of us liked it or not.
Ivy stepped forward then, her eyes softer than usual. The playful succubus confidence had slipped just enough to reveal something quieter beneath it.
“I will send you away, Your Highness,” she said.
Yeah. She sounded sad.
That tugged somewhere under my ribs in a way I refused to examine too closely.
“Come here,” I said.
I slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her against me. She melted into it instantly, pressing her cheek against my shoulder, breathing in like she was memorizing my scent.
Luci stepped closer, placing a hand dramatically on my shoulder like he was joining a theatrical farewell tableau.
Algan mirrored him on the other side, though his grip was firm, grounding, professional. Lieutenant mode.
I teleported.
The dimensional gate of the Underworld greeted us again with its endless obsidian cathedral silence. The cold here was familiar. Comforting. Honest.
Ivy didn’t let go immediately.
She turned toward me, her hands sliding up my chest, fingers gripping the lapels of my coat. Her lips found mine again, slower this time. Longer. A kiss that wasn’t playful or teasing. Just… claiming a moment.
“Tell me when you come back, Your Highness,” she murmured against my mouth.
“I will,” I said quietly.
She lingered one second longer before stepping back, though her fingers dragged across my wrist like she was leaving a promise behind.
I turned without looking back. If I did, I might stay. And Hell didn’t need that complication today.
“Move,” I said.
Luci straightened his coat. Algan adjusted the strap of his now tragically weapon-depleted military bag. We crossed the threshold together.
The border between realms rippled like dark water breaking under moonlight. The moment we stepped through, my demonic form compressed inward. Wings retracted. Tentacles dissolved into shadow threads. Horns faded. My presence shrank carefully, precision layered over instinct.
The principal’s office reformed around us in a blink of warped space.
The mortal realm air hit differently. Softer. Warmer. Carrying the faint smell of polished wood, parchment… and something far more familiar.
Red. Penelope. Katrina.
They were already there.
Fully dressed.
Fully composed.
Fully in character as the academy owners and administrative authority figures they pretended to be.
Red stood behind the desk reviewing files, glasses perched low on her nose like a terrifyingly competent business executive.
Penelope leaned casually against the bookcase, flipping through a tablet with bored elegance.
Katrina stood near the window, arms crossed, observing the grounds like a silent security system wrapped in designer clothing.
If someone walked in now, they would see nothing but power and professionalism.
Luci inhaled deeply.
Then winced.
“This room still smells like your cum, Azrael.”
I closed my eyes.
“Shut up.”
Penelope coughed into her hand to hide a laugh.
Red didn’t even look up from her paperwork, though the faintest curl tugged at the corner of her mouth.
Katrina just shook her head slowly like she was witnessing a disaster she had predicted three centuries ago.
They stepped forward to greet us anyway, professional masks snapping fully into place.
“Welcome,” Red said smoothly, extending a hand like she was greeting foreign dignitaries.
Penelope circled Luci slowly, assessing him like an expensive artifact she was debating whether to insure or weaponize.
Katrina stopped in front of Algan, giving him a short nod that carried soldier to soldier respect. Her posture straightened slightly, shoulders squared, stance balanced like someone who knew how to fight in heels and still win.