The Incubus System Chapter 1516. Cursed
The Incubus System Chapter 1516. Cursed
Ethan’s PoV
‘I’m cursed,’ I thought.
My eyes stayed locked outside the taxi window like the passing buildings had personally saved my life.
Because if I looked at Nathan’s face for more than three seconds, I might punch him.
Not murder.
Just a clean, emotional, educational punch.
The kind that said, ‘please stop developing romantic feelings for the wrong disguised demon prince’.
Beside me, Nathan sat too straight for a man who was supposedly half-dead. He kept pretending to look forward, but I could feel his glances landing on me every few seconds.
These were soft and most importantly… Romantically suicidal.
My brain, exhausted and spiritually bankrupt, started writing two guidebooks at the same time.
‘101 Ways to Avoid Responsibilities That Aren’t Yours’.
And the sequel.
‘How Come My Enemy Fell in Love With Me? A Demon Prince’s Guide to Accidental Catfishing’.
Yeah.
That last one was too clear.
Damn it.
I didn’t think about this.
I thought if I camouflaged as a girl, at least I could avoid the Jenny problem. No Ethan. No “Celia’s cousin.” Just a random woman, very responsible, very temporary, very gone after delivering damaged goods to the correct address.
But no.
Nathan had to wake up.
Then Nathan had to stare.
Then Nathan had to develop whatever this was.
I honestly expected him to be the knight-warrior type. Cold. Disciplined. Only wanted power, justice, revenge, and dramatic sunrise speeches.
But apparently, if you removed his memories, took away his borrowed wing, then made me appear as a mysterious beautiful woman…
He became a wounded puppy with delusions of romance.
Oh what the fu—
“We’re here,” the driver said.
Saved by public transportation.
“Thanks,” I said quickly.
The taxi stopped in front of Nathan’s house.
I reached into my pocket and paid because of course Nathan didn’t bring his wallet.
So I paid.
The driver took the money, glanced at Nathan, glanced at me, then looked away like he had decided this was not his episode.
Smart man.
I opened the door and stepped out first.
Noon heat hit my face. The street was quieter than the college area, with houses lined neatly along the road, a few parked motorcycles, and someone’s dog barking from behind a fence like it also sensed narrative nonsense.
Nathan climbed out after me.
Slowly.
Then, with the audacity of a man who had already used up three lifetimes of my patience, he leaned on me again.
I turned my head and glared. Hard.
I guess his grudge had transferred to me.
Now I had the grudge.
Congratulations, Nathan. Character development.
He coughed. Fake. So fake.
I had heard real coughing.
This? This was theatre.
“I’m still hurt,” Nathan said, voice low and tragic. “My house is there. Just take me.”
I stared at him.
He pointed at the gate like it was a mountain.
It was five meters away.
Maybe six.
“Your house,” I said slowly, “is right there.”
“Yes.”
“You can walk.”
“I might collapse.” Then he coughed again.
Even faker.
“I was trying to conserve strength.”
I almost smiled.
No. Absolutely not.
Do not reward the idiot.
Then Nathan added, “I’m sure my family will want to see you.”
I grimaced so hard my female Damian face almost cracked.
Internally, I screamed. ‘It’s me who doesn’t want to see your family!’
That was the whole point.
Avoid responsibility.
Avoid becoming “that reliable person who brought my brother home.”
The universe heard that and said, ‘how about you hand-deliver him to the door while he gazes at you like you’re the moon?’
I wanted to sue existence.
Nathan leaned more against me, somehow placing his weak body into my personal space like he had been bonelessly wounded by fate.
Maybe he was actually weak.
He had lost Aurelion’s bestowed power, gotten beaten, siphoned, memory-altered, dragged through Light Dimension customs, and transported across dimensions.
So yes, physically, he had reason to be hurt.
But still.
I was sure at least seventy percent of this was fake.
At least.
Maybe seventy-five.
“Walk,” I muttered.
He did.
Barely.
With me supporting him.
‘Calm down, Ethan,’ I told myself. ‘Just until the door. Be gracious, okay?’
Yes. I was basically a saint.
A saint with demonic blood, false breasts, a bra I wore specifically for social damage control, and the patience of a dying candle.
We reached the front door.
Nathan looked at me, breathing a little heavier now.
I pressed the doorbell.
The sound rang inside.
Steps came immediately.
Fast steps.
Panicked steps.
The door opened.
Jenny stood there. Her eyes widened. “Brother!”
She rushed forward and hugged Nathan so fast he actually stumbled.
I caught his back automatically.
Damn reflexes.
Nathan smiled weakly, one hand lifting to pat her shoulder. “I’m fine.”
“You disappeared!” Jenny cried. “Do you know how worried I was? No one knew where you were!”
“I…” Nathan blinked, memories clearly trying to assemble themselves out of cheap paper and lies. “Went out.”
Jenny pulled back, eyes wet, face furious and relieved at the same time. “You went out?”
“I drank.”
Jenny froze.
Her mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
“You drank?”
Behind her, someone stepped into view.
Celia.
My little sister.
She must have come here to comfort Jenny after the call.
Because Celia was kind.
And because our lives loved converging into disasters.
Her eyes moved from Nathan to Jenny, then to me.
The second her gaze locked onto my face, both of us went silent.
Celia stared.
I stared back.
Her expression didn’t change at first.
Then it slowly, painfully, beautifully cringed.
Badly.
Her gaze said one word. ‘Brother?’
I lifted one finger quickly and pressed it to my lips. ‘Shh!’
Her cringe worsened.
Her eyes dropped briefly over my female form.
The blouse.
The hair.
The face.
The general problem.
Then her gaze sharpened again.
This time, it clearly said ‘Did you seduce him?’
I shook my head vigorously. So vigorously Nathan glanced at me.
I stopped.
Then I gave Celia the most desperate eye message of my life. ‘No! He fell for me, but I swear I didn’t seduce him!’