Seven Sins System Chapter 855. Demonic Sardines in a Can

Seven Sins System Chapter 855. Demonic Sardines in a Can

A kindness veil expanded over the yard.

The children stopped screaming before they started. Some even walked toward the angels instinctively, eyes wide, like they found the main characters of a bedtime story.

That meant they wouldn’t run inside.

We, meanwhile?

We went the opposite direction.

The devils turned human.

Just human enough that cameras wouldn’t instantly register horns, wings, tails, and several crimes against biology.

But this time we didn’t blend.

I ripped my flu mask off and let it fall.

Mamon sighed and reached into his coat. Then he pulled out masks.

My fingers stilled when I saw them.

Luci’s amusement disappeared too.

Three masks rested in Mamon’s hands like relics from a war no mortal history had ever been allowed to record.

Sin masks.

The kind we used to wear during the old war against the Light Realm. Not because we needed to hide.

We were devils. Everyone knew what we were. The masks were symbols. Warnings. Banners worn on faces before battlefields became graveyards.

Mine was dark iron-black, cracked across one side like a wound that refused to close. Jagged horn patterns curved upward from the brow, and the mouth was shaped into a restrained snarl. Not my favorite Wrath mask. I preferred my own custom one.

But this one…

I had worn it once.

Long ago.

Luci’s mask was bone-white with violet lines around the eyes, elegant and cruel, with a crown-like ridge across the forehead. Too beautiful to be comforting. Very him.

Mamon’s mask was plain compared to what mortals would expect from Greed. Dark bronze, smooth, expressionless except for narrow eyes that looked like they were calculating your value and already disappointed.

I stared at him. “You still have these?”

Mamon slipped his own mask on. “I said I would auction them someday.”

“You said that centuries ago.”

“I never found buyers worthy enough.”

Luci took his mask slowly. “You mean you kept them.”

“I protected asset value.”

“You kept them.”

Mamon ignored him.

I took mine.

The mask felt cold in my hand.

Old memories stirred underneath my skin. Fire across white marble. Angel blades against demon claws. Wings burning in battlefield light. Blood and hymns and screaming pride. Wrath roaring from my chest like a second sun.

I placed the mask over my face.

It fit perfectly.

Some things remembered their owners.

Luci wore his next. His aura sharpened instantly, even in human form. Mamon adjusted his tie after putting his on, looking less like a devil lord and more like a debt collector arriving to repossess a church.

It worked.

We dropped from the rooftop into the side corridor and walked toward the school entrance.

Three human-shaped devils wearing ancient war masks.

Not subtle.

But effective.

The first kids who saw us screamed.

They ran away from the building.

Better.

A teacher tried to step in front of them, saw us, then immediately decided angelic evacuation sounded like a wonderful educational activity and ushered the children toward the yard.

Very wise woman.

We strode through the hallway like three school bullies searching for today’s victims.

Tiny shoes squeaked across polished floors as children fled toward the exits. Backpacks bounced. A pencil case fell. Someone cried. Someone shouted for their teacher. Through the windows, I could see Lumira’s golden veil catching them gently as they reached the yard. Puriel guided the adults too, calm and firm.

Good.

The evacuation had begun.

Mamon walked ahead, tablet in hand, mask making him look horrifyingly professional. “Left.”

We turned.

“Down the administration hallway.”

We passed colorful posters.

Mamon muttered, “Ugh. They’re noisy. I hate kids. They are incompetent.”

I looked at him. “They’re kids, duh.”

He glanced at me. “They run without formation.”

“They’re seven.”

“They cry inefficiently.”

I stared. “What do you want? Make them do accounting?”

Luci almost laughed.

Almost.

His shoulders shook once.

Mamon looked genuinely thoughtful for half a second. “No. Their handwriting would be unacceptable.”

“Mamon…. Never run a daycare.”

“I never planned to.”

The hallway cleared quickly.

Too quickly, maybe.

Teachers and children moved out under angel guidance, but the air inside the school grew colder as the noise faded. The cheerful building started showing its other face. Lights flickered. A faint hum came from beneath the floor. The walls smelled too clean, antiseptic under crayon wax and cafeteria bread.

Mamon stopped in front of a classroom.

“Here.”

I looked at the door.

Second grade classroom.

Bright alphabet posters.

Animal stickers.

A whiteboard covered in math problems and a cartoon sun.

Luci tilted his head. “The hidden clinic entrance is in a classroom?”

Mamon tapped his tablet. “Behind the whiteboard.”

I stared at the whiteboard. “How original.”

I stepped forward.

My shadow moved first.

Blade tails emerged behind me. Controlled, sharp enough to cut through steel without touching the wall around it.

The whiteboard split cleanly in four pieces.

Then I kicked it.

Because yes.

Could I have opened it carefully? Sure.

Did I want to? No.

The broken board flew inward, revealing a narrow metal passage behind it. Cold air rushed out, carrying chemical smell, residue, and something metallic underneath.

Luci looked at the kicked-in entrance. “So Wrath.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

Mamon looked down the passage. “Energy dampening is active. Signal is messy.”

“Then we go in.”

We stepped through.

And immediately turned demonic again.

Or at least, that was the plan.

My horns emerged. Tentacles unfolded. Tail shifted. Armor began crawling up my body.

Luci’s wings started opening behind him.

Mamon’s greed aura spread, coin-light flashing at his feet.

Then all three of us realized something at the same time.

The passage was not big enough.

Not even close.

My left tentacle hit one wall.

Luci’s wing jammed into the ceiling.

Mamon’s shoulder pressed against my side.

A pipe groaned above us.

Silence.

A long. Humiliating. Silence.

We looked like demonic sardines in a can.

Luci’s voice came very slowly. “Get your tentacle out of my face!”

“That is not my tentacle.”

A pause.

“That better be your tentacle.”

Mamon’s voice squeezed from behind me. “Ugh. Give me some space.”

“I’m trying.”

“You have five tentacles.”

“Would you like me to detach them and mail them ahead?”

“Tempting.”

Luci shoved slightly.

His wing hit another pipe.

Something hissed.

We all froze.

I said, “Don’t move.”