Seven Sins System Chapter 785. Truth is Optional
Seven Sins System Chapter 785. Truth is Optional
Algan shifted his stance slightly.
Not rigid now.
Thinking.
Luci glanced back at the screen.
Then at me.
Then back again.
For a brief moment, the boredom mask slipped.
He looked… thoughtful.
And that was rare.
“So,” he said slowly, “you’re saying the truth is buried.”
“Under layers of performance,” I replied.
Lumira nodded softly.
“Mortals perform fear,” she said. “And longing.”
I rubbed my temple.
“And clicks,” I added. “They want attention.”
A small silence settled.
Heavier than before.
Less ridiculous.
More real.
Luci looked at headline number two again. He glanced at me.
Suspicious.
“You sound too calm.”
“I’m used to it.”
His eyes narrowed. “Used to what.”
“Being accused of things I didn’t do.”
The words came out before I filtered them.
I shrugged. Lightly. Like it didn’t matter.
“It’s modern times,” I said. “Truth is optional.”
Algan exhaled through his nose. “So what’s the plan?” he asked.
His tone wasn’t impatient.
It was measured.
Military brain waiting for coordinates.
I leaned back against the metal cabinet behind me and let my head thud lightly against it. The cold seeped through my hairline. It helped. A little.
“I already filtered,” I muttered. “All of it.”
Luci’s eyebrow lifted slightly. “Define filtered.”
“I mean I didn’t just scroll headlines and cry about it,” I shot back. “I dug.”
I pushed off the cabinet and started pacing slowly. Not dramatic. Just restless. The fluorescent lights hummed faintly overhead. Too bright. Too honest.
“I went through forums. Private boards. Conspiracy groups. Ritual communities. Encrypted threads. Discord servers full of people who think their houseplants are possessed.”
Algan blinked once. “And?”
“Bluffing,” I said flatly. “Half of them want attention. The other half want subscribers.”
Lumira folded her hands loosely in front of her. “Mortals crave recognition,” she said gently.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Recognition and ad revenue.”
I stopped pacing.
The room felt heavier now. Less theatrical. More practical.
“The last time I got actual hints,” I continued, quieter, “was when I searched them myself.”
A pause.
Or when they came to me.
I shouldn’t have said that out loud.
The silence that followed wasn’t sharp. It was curious.
Three sets of eyes shifted toward me.
Puriel’s the first. Always the first. Calm, perceptive, reading between every syllable.
Luci’s next. Analytical. Calculating.
Lumira’s softer. Concerned.
I rolled my shoulders lightly.
“If you’re thinking about making me bait,” I said before anyone else could, “I already did.”
Algan straightened a fraction.
“You did what?” he asked.
I looked at the ceiling for half a second. Then back at them.
“I killed a bunch of monsters,” I said casually. “Left some parts of the bodies where they could be found. Left… my tentacles.”
I shrugged. “If the cult. Or whoever’s making hybrids. If they investigate power sources… they’d know it was a devil’s doing.”
“And?” Luci pressed.
“And nothing,” I said flatly. “Some random demons attacked me and gave me weird message. Some random angels also attacked me. But no core group.”
Puriel stepped forward a fraction. “Us,” she corrected softly. “Not just you.”
I glanced at her.
Yeah.
She’d been there.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Her too. They covered it well,” I said quietly. “And we lack personnel.”
Algan nodded once. Short. Agreeing.
“We can’t be everywhere,” he said.
“No,” I replied. “And they know that.”
The room went quiet again.
The hum of the lights. The faint clink of Luci setting the wine glass down on the desk.
He wasn’t leaning lazily anymore.
He was thinking.
That almost made me nervous.
“I have an idea,” he said finally.
I didn’t move.
“Speak,” I said.
He pushed off the wall slowly. Not dramatic. Just deliberate.
“What if,” he began, “we answer mortal summons again.”
The room shifted.
Subtly.
Puriel’s shoulders stiffened.
Algan’s stance sharpened.
Lumira’s eyes widened slightly.
I didn’t speak.
I just watched him.
He continued.
“They needed something from us,” Luci said. “DNA. Mana remnants. Essences. Whatever crude term mortals use.” His tone was clinical. Detached. “To fabricate their so-called gods,” he added.
I crossed my arms slowly.
He was not wrong.
“They can’t create divinity from thin air,” he continued. “They need source material. Templates.”
“And you’re suggesting,” Puriel said carefully, “we offer it.”
He shook his head once. “I’m suggesting we control it.”
Lumira stepped forward. “What about innocent summoners?” she asked softly. “There are mortals who call out in desperation. They are not cultists.”
Luci glanced at her.
“That is precisely why this works,” he said.
I inhaled slowly.
Dangerous idea.
Very dangerous.
“But they could use us,” Puriel said. Not fearfully. Just factually.
“Yes,” Luci replied calmly. “They could.”
Algan spoke next. “Or trap us.”
“That too,” Luci said.
Everyone looked at me.
I hated when they did that.
I ran my tongue over my teeth slowly.
The fluorescent light buzzed again. It felt louder than before.
He wasn’t wrong.
It was the one pipeline we hadn’t fully exploited.
“Most summons are harmless,” I said slowly. “Candles. Circles. Blood.”
Algan’s mouth twitched.
“But,” I continued, “the weird ones… are different.”
“How?” Lumira asked.
“The ones that ask for something small,” I said. “Easy requests. ‘Leave a sign.’ ‘Touch this object.’ ‘Bless this space.’”
Luci’s eyes sharpened. “Physical residue,” he murmured.
“Exactly.”
Puriel’s gaze turned distant, thinking. “You mean the rituals designed to extract rather than commune.”
“Yes.”
The words tasted unpleasant.
Algan shifted his weight. “So we track those.”
“Or,” Luci said, “we answer selectively.”
That was the part that twisted in my chest.
Answer.
Go where they call.
Let them try.
Let them reveal themselves.
Puriel’s voice softened. “It would be dangerous.”
“I know,” I said quietly.
I didn’t look at her.
If I did, I might hesitate.
Lumira stepped closer. “If they attempt to harvest you…”
“They won’t get far,” Algan said firmly.
I glanced at him.
He meant that.
He’d burn the room down before he let it happen.
Luci tapped a finger against the desk lightly. “Think about their psychology.”
I sighed internally.
Of course Pride wanted to psychoanalyze cultists.