Seven Sins System Chapter 836. Infernal Broadcast
Seven Sins System Chapter 836. Infernal Broadcast
Luci’s voice beside mine sounded almost melodic in infernal tongue. Mine sounded harsher. Hungrier. Like violence trying to become language.
The infirmary shook harder.
A jar of cotton balls rattled off the shelf and bounced once against the floor. The medicine cabinet trembled. The glass window gave one sharp, ugly crack across its corner like the room itself had suddenly realized two Sin Lords were doing illegal networking inside a school clinic.
I tched. “Nope.”
I lifted one hand, palm open. “Shadow Space.”
Darkness gathered into a small transparent dome above my palm, no bigger than a marble at first. Then it expanded. Fast. Silent. Clean.
The dome spread outward like a bubble made of black glass, swallowing the room, the floor, the walls, the trembling ceiling, the buzzing lights, the cracked window, the infirmary bed, the desks, everything.
And then…
The mortals were gone.
Only me and Luci.
The cracks that had briefly spread across the wall froze mid-rupture, suspended inside my pocket dimension like a screenshot of bad decisions. Good thing I activated it in time.
If I hadn’t enclosed us, the whole infirmary would’ve exploded. Maybe the wing too. Maybe the entire academy if Luci got dramatic.
And Luci is always three compliments away from dramatic.
We continued.
Infernal language rolled out of us again, deeper this time, no longer restrained by mortal walls. My voice dragged through the Shadow Space like a blade across stone. Luci’s curled through the air like velvet strangling a king.
The words weren’t just sound.
They were orders.
Old contracts trembled awake. Forgotten marks burned under mortal skin. Bloodlines branded generations ago suddenly felt their inheritance tighten like a collar around the soul.
My system flared.
[Infernal Broadcast Active]
[Target Filter: Wrath-Bound Mortal Servants]
The first response hit my skull like a whisper.
Then another.
Then more.
[Recipients Reached: 12]
[Recipients Reached: 39]
[Recipients Reached: 87]
[Recipients Reached: 214]
[Recipients Reached: 603]
[Recipients Reached: 1,442]
[Recipients Reached: 3,918]
I stopped chanting for half a second.
Oh shit.
I stared at the numbers climbing.
[Recipients Reached: 7,206]
[Recipients Reached: 11,849]
“…Huh.”
I never thought I had this many slaves.
Okay.
That sounded bad.
But technically, accurate.
These weren’t all direct summons either. Some were generational brands. Old pacts made by ancestors who decided bargaining with Wrath was somehow a good family investment strategy. Some bloodlines had carried my mark for centuries without even understanding why their descendants occasionally woke up angry at corrupt institutions and felt compelled to break furniture.
Beautiful legacy.
Terrible estate planning.
The voices began to answer.
Not spoken aloud.
Inside my head.
Layered.
Messy.
Hundreds, then thousands of whispers rising like a stadium full of fans who just saw their idol step onto the stage.
‘Lord Wrath.’
‘Command us.’
‘We hear you.’
‘Your anger is our oath.’
‘Tell us where to strike.’
Yeah.
Creepy.
Flattering, but creepy.
I finished the final phrase and cut the connection before the worship got too enthusiastic.
“Done,” I muttered.
Luci was still chanting.
Eyes closed.
Expression calm.
Aura elegant.
And of course, he was taking longer.
Because this bastard definitely had more mortal servants than me.
He was Pride.
He loved being worshipped.
He probably answered mortal summons just to hear people cry about how perfect he was.
His side of the Shadow Space shimmered. Invisible strings stretched outward from him into impossible distance, each one tied to a mortal ego somewhere in the world.
I folded my arms and waited.
The system still tracked faint external pressure.
[Nearby Infernal Broadcast Detected: Pride Network]
[Estimated Recipient Count: Calculating…]
[Warning: High Volume]
High volume.
Yeah. No kidding.
Finally, Luci opened his eyes.
“And… done.”
His tone was casual, but the air around him pulsed once, satisfied, like an entire cult network had just knelt across continents.
I raised an eyebrow. “How many?”
He smirked. “Enough.”
“Coward answer.”
“Elegant answer.”
“Same thing.”
I snapped my fingers.
The Shadow Space dome cracked.
Black glass fissures spread across the pocket dimension like lightning, then shattered soundlessly.
[You have cancelled your Shadow Space skill.]
The infirmary returned.
Reality repaired itself beautifully.
I sat down heavily in my chair and picked up my tomato juice again.
“I assume they’ll get something.”
Luci walked to the other chair and sat opposite me like this was a casual tea appointment instead of mass activation of infernal assets.
“It should be faster now.”
He crossed one leg over the other, then looked at me with that irritatingly amused expression.
“Mamon is smarter than you.”
I stared at him.
He continued, clearly enjoying himself.
“He tracked it quickly and even came up with this idea.”
I took a slow sip of tomato juice.
“Yeah, I guess.”
His brows lifted slightly, probably surprised I didn’t immediately throw the juice at his face.
“I’m Wrath,” I said flatly. “War strategy is my specialty. Battlefields. Sieges. Punishment cycles. Rebellion suppression. That kind of thing.”
I gestured vaguely at the floating map still shimmering faintly in front of us.
“But this? Networks. Data trails. Residue markets. Fake responders. International infiltration?”
I leaned back.
“Nope. Not at all.”
Then I added, with deep personal offense, “I feel like I got nerfed.”
Luci laughed.
“Ha. Excuse.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Oh, you say that because you don’t know what happened.”
He leaned forward slightly.
“Enlighten me.”
I set the tomato juice down.
“Dad stripped my demonic power when he sent me here.”
Luci’s smile vanished.
“What?”
“Yeah.”
The room went quiet for a second.
I shrugged like it didn’t bother me.
It did.
Obviously.
“Too much demonic power would make the angels detect me. That was his logic.”
Luci studied me closely now, eyes narrowing in actual thought.
I tapped my chest lightly.
“All this power I have now? I gained it in the mortal realm.”
He didn’t say anything immediately.
Then he leaned back slowly.
“I see.”
His gaze moved over me, not in a mocking way this time. More like recalibrating.
“That explains why your aura is different.”
I huffed.
“Not to mention, I had to stay low.”
“Low,” he repeated dryly.
“I tried.”
“You appeared on the news drinking bubble tea during a disaster.”
“That was recent.”