Seven Sins System Chapter 848. Mine!
Seven Sins System Chapter 848. Mine!
His stolen body stiffened under my grip.
Good.
Fear looked better on him than arrogance.
His stolen throat bobbed as if he still needed to swallow, as if his dead soul still remembered the habits of living flesh. The original owner’s soul hovered beside us, trembling, desperate, hands pressed to his own chest like he could feel every finger I had around the neck of his body.
So yeah.
Killing wasn’t ideal.
Not because I suddenly developed mercy.
Please.
No.
It was because the body wasn’t the necromancer’s property. Killing the vessel would be sloppy. Wasteful. Also unfair to the poor bastard whose only crime was trespassing into a haunted mansion for probably a stupid mortal video titled ‘I Spent One Night In The Cursed Wedding House And Almost Died.’
Which, honestly, accurate content.
So I didn’t crush the neck.
Not yet.
Instead, I shifted my grip.
My fingers pressed harder against the stolen body’s pulse points while my tentacles pinned the necromancer’s limbs in place. The core anchor I had pulled from his original corpse twitched in one blade-tip behind me, green-black light pulsing like a rotten heart.
He laughed.
A shaky laugh.
“You can’t do anything,” he hissed.
I tilted my head.
“Really?”
His confidence grew because desperate idiots loved hearing themselves talk.
“Even devils cannot kick me out. I have bound myself to this vessel. I have written my essence into its bones, nerves, blood, breath. This body is mine now.”
The host soul looked like he wanted to scream.
The bride’s soul sobbed silently on the altar.
The trapped lover’s prison continued cracking under Luci’s careful pressure, violet light slipping between layers like a blade separating ugly stitches.
I smiled. “Oh, I know Envy can take over someone’s belonging.”
The necromancer’s smirk widened. “There. You understand.”
“No,” I said. “I understand stealing.”
My eyes narrowed. “But I also know someone who could kick a tenant out when the rent’s due.”
The necromancer blinked.“What?”
I lifted my chin slightly and shouted into the shadow like I was calling someone from across an office. “Mamon! You better get your ass here.”
Luci paused.
Then slowly looked at me.
And smiled.
Smug.
Annoyingly smug.
The necromancer, however, went pale.
Not the host body’s natural pale.
Dead pale.
The kind of pale that meant his stolen instincts understood a much worse department had just been summoned.
Because Wrath tore throats.
Pride crushed dignity.
But Greed?
Greed took ownership seriously.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then a voice answered from nowhere.
Not dramatic.
Just irritated.
“…No, no, that soul tax discrepancy can’t be categorized under unpaid devotional surplus because the original pact was never notarized. Move it to deferred infernal receivables and don’t bother me unless the number has at least three more zeros…”
I stared at the air.
Luci’s smile vanished.
The necromancer froze.
Mamon’s voice continued, muffled like he was speaking while reading documents.
“Wait a second. I need to get this right.”
I didn’t say anything.
Because yeah.
Normal.
Mamon was deep in work. When he entered that mode, interrupting him was like trying to stop a collapsing bank by politely clapping. He had to finish the thought first, otherwise he would arrive angry and start auditing everyone’s bloodline.
But Luci?
Luci was not having it.
He threw one hand toward the empty air, wings flaring behind him.
“Get over here, you asshole! You’re ruining a perfectly good grand entrance!”
A pause.
Mamon’s voice sharpened.
“Wait.”
Another pause.
Then a thin gold line split the chamber open.
A portal opened with the sound of coins spilling over marble.
Mamon stepped through holding a coffee in one hand and a tablet in the other, wearing a suit that looked too expensive to exist in a corpse basement. His glasses reflected green market charts and infernal ledgers at the same time. He glanced up from the screen, took one sip of coffee, and looked around the chamber.
Bodies.
Souls.
Bride.
Crystal prison.
Possessed host.
Luci in full demonic form wearing a skincare sheet mask.
Me holding a necromancer by the neck.
Mamon blinked once.
Then said, “You got the culprit?”
“Only one of them.”
He looked around again, slower this time.
“Oh.”
His gaze sharpened.
“The missing souls.”
He lifted the tablet and several golden symbols flickered across the screen.
“You found a few ones.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Now can you get him too?”
Mamon finally looked at the necromancer properly.
The moment Greed’s attention landed on him, the stolen body shuddered.
Not from fear alone.
From account recognition.
Like every stolen thing in the room suddenly realized the owner of ownership itself had arrived.
Mamon adjusted his glasses.
“Oh…”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“I can.”
The necromancer panicked.
“No.”
His soul barrier surged again, dragging the trapped souls close around him like stolen coins clutched in a miser’s fist.
“No! Those souls are mine!”
The word echoed.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
He screamed it again, voice cracking.
“Mine!”
I cringed.
“That’s not how it works, dude.”
And it really wasn’t.
Souls did not belong to random mortals just because some rotten romantic failure learned bad necromancy in a basement.
A soul’s path was simple in principle, complicated in paperwork, and annoying in execution. Some went up. Some went down. Some wandered. Some waited. Some became a problem and needed proper processing. Their sins, actions, weight, regrets, vows, damage, devotion, all of that mattered.
And the ones who came to us?
The ones we consumed?
The ones we chained into service?
That was because they made pacts with us.
Contracts.
Offerings.
Summons.
Bargains.
Idiotic decisions, sure, but decisions with infernal structure. We could eat their souls, make them servants, bind them to domains, turn them into punishment fuel, or keep them as assets depending on the pact.
But mortals?
Mortals couldn’t just make other mortal souls their servants.
That wasn’t ambition.
That was theft.
And Greed hated theft when it wasn’t properly licensed.
Mamon walked forward calmly, coffee still in hand.