Seven Sins System Chapter 851. For Content
Seven Sins System Chapter 851. For Content
I stared at the empty space where the tragic couple had almost become a happy ending.
Then clicked my tongue.
“Ah…”
I tilted my head.
“So sad.”
Luci crossed his arms, watching the fading light and sealed crack with an expression that was way too entertained for someone wearing wet skincare. “Beautifully tragic.”
Mamon didn’t even blink. “I don’t care.”
He lifted his tablet. “What I see is soul count.”
I looked at him. “Of course you do.”
He tapped the screen.
“Recovered twenty-three displaced souls. One necromancer sent to Envy processing. One greedy lover sent downward. Several guests sorted. Bride cleared upward. Host soul returned to body but requires stabilization.”
I glanced at the young man’s collapsed body on the floor.
Right.
The urban explorer.
The actual owner of the stolen body.
He was still breathing faintly.
Miracle.
Annoying miracle, but miracle.
I walked over and crouched beside him.
His soul was inside properly now, flickering weakly. His body looked pale, exhausted, side still marked where I had slashed the necromancer earlier.
Oops.
Technically necessary.
I placed one hand over his chest. “Dark Healing.”
Dark energy slipped into him, careful and controlled. Not demonic corruption. Not a pact. Just repair. Muscle. nerves. pulse. Stabilization.
He gasped once, then went limp again, alive but unconscious.
Good.
[Healing Complete]
I stood.
The bride’s preserved body still sat on the altar, empty now. Without her soul, it looked like what it always should have been.
Dead.
The corpses around us were just corpses again.
No strings.
No false party.
No ceremony.
Just evidence.
Mamon glanced around the chamber. “This location is small.”
I looked at him. “Small?”
“Yes. Twenty-three souls is serious but not enough to explain the total missing count.”
Luci sighed. “So this is just one branch.”
Mamon nodded. “Or one independent collector connected to the larger residue market.”
I rubbed my temple.
Fantastic.
A haunted mansion necromancer with body theft, forced wedding rituals, stolen infernal essence, and soul laundering was apparently just a side quest.
Mortal realm was exhausting.
Mamon turned his tablet toward me. “However, his network has transaction residue.”
Gold lines appeared on the screen, mapping faint connections from the mansion to several other points.
“Someone sold him the stabilized essence method.”
Luci’s eyes sharpened. “Not self-taught?”
“No. He improved it creatively with his romance disease, but the base method came from elsewhere.”
Luci grimaced. “Romance disease.”
“I stand by the phrase,” Mamon said.
I looked around the ruined chamber and exhaled slowly.
“Alright.”
My tentacles curled behind me. “Then we follow the seller.”
Mamon took another sip of coffee.
Luci adjusted his sheet mask like a warrior preparing for round two.
And somewhere above us, the mansion began to collapse now that its dead heart had been removed.
Finally.
A decent ending aesthetic.
The mansion groaned above us like an old beast realizing its heart had been removed and rent was overdue. Stone cracked. Dust fell. The dead flowers on the altar crumbled into powder. The fake wedding hall lost its shape, walls bending inward as the necromantic distortion holding it together finally surrendered.
I looked at Luci.
Then at Mamon.
Then at the unconscious urban explorer lying on the floor like the universe had used him as temporary storage.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Mamon didn’t argue. Good. Greed knew when a collapsing property had no resale value.
Luci, however, glanced around once more with visible disgust. “Gladly. This place is an insult to architecture, romance, and basic hygiene.”
“You forgot skincare,” I said.
He froze.
I smiled behind my flu mask.
He touched his sheet mask immediately. “Do not mock preservation.”
“The mansion also preserved things.”
“I will kill you.”
“Later.”
Shadow opened beneath our feet. We almost disappeared immediately, but then I remembered the mortal.
Right.
The living one.
Annoying, but technically rescued.
One tentacle snapped out, wrapped around his waist, and dragged him with us.
The world folded.
We appeared outside the gate first. Morning light hit us hard after the underground chamber’s rotten darkness. I dropped the urban explorer gently enough onto the grass near the iron gate.
Gently enough meant he didn’t break anything.
Probably.
He groaned faintly but stayed unconscious.
I crouched, checked his pulse with two fingers, then tapped his forehead. “You’re welcome. Don’t enter haunted mansions again.”
Mamon looked down at him. “Mortals will absolutely enter another haunted mansion after this.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “They call it content.”
Luci looked genuinely offended. “For attention?”
“Yes.”
He scoffed. “Primitive Pride.”
“Exactly.”
Then we teleported again.
This time, we landed on the rooftop of a nearby abandoned building overlooking the mansion grounds. From there, we could watch the entire property collapse.
Beautiful.
The iron gate twisted inward. The dry fountain split down the middle. The dead trees bent as if bowing to the end of the curse. Windows shattered one after another, not from impact, but because the space behind them was folding back into normal dimensions.
The mansion sank first.
Then crumbled.
Roof tiles slid off like scales. Walls buckled. The central tower cracked and fell through the main hall. Dust rose in a wide gray cloud, swallowing the yard, the gate, the path, the whole gloomy corpse-romance aesthetic.
Gone.
No explosion.
No fire.
Just decay finally catching up.
Luci stood beside me, wings folded, sheet mask still clinging to his face like a warrior’s veil of hydration.
“Speaking of the seller,” he said.
I glanced at him.
He looked at me.
“Did you see anything when you read his mind?”
I leaned against the rooftop ledge and watched the mansion finish dying.
“Not much.”
Luci frowned.
I tapped my temple lightly.
“His memory was messy. Mixed. The original body. The urban explorer’s body. Several bodies before. Every time he stole a vessel, the memories bled together.”
Mamon adjusted his glasses, already looking at his tablet.
“Possession contamination.”
“Yeah. It was hard to read clearly.”
That was the annoying part.
Envy could pull memory threads. Easy. Usually.
But this thing had worn people like coats for decades. Every body had left impressions. Fear. pain. confusion. old habits. language fragments. Names. Places. The necromancer’s own rotten obsession sat in the middle of it all like a tumor wearing perfume.
I rubbed my brow.
“I saw books. Ritual pages. Some kind of meeting. Hard to tell. A seller with gloves. Black gloves. A voice but no face.”