Seven Sins System Chapter 887. Payment I

Seven Sins System Chapter 887. Payment I

The room changed instantly.

Everyone felt it.

Epic rank.

The bottle glowed deep crimson-black, thick liquid swirling inside like condensed life and war. Even Mamon’s tablet flickered, identifying its value. His eyes moved to it.

For the first time since I entered, he stopped the meeting properly.

He raised his hand. “All stop.”

Every assistant froze.

Pages stopped turning.

Floating ledgers halted midair.

The war healers paused too, though one still had healing light threaded into his shoulder.

Mamon looked at the potion.

Then at me.

I walked forward and placed it on his desk.

The bottle clicked against polished black wood.

“Drink it.”

He picked up the potion carefully, turning it once to inspect the seal.

“Epic rank,” he said. “Wrath vault. Old battlefield stock?”

“Stop flirting with the bottle and drink it.”

Mamon’s mouth curved faintly. “Payment accepted.”

I stared at him. “That’s not payment.”

“It is now.”

“Mamon.”

He slid the potion into his dimensional inventory.

I watched it disappear. Like watching someone put medicine inside a bank vault and call it treatment.

“Drink it,” I repeated.

“No.”

My eye twitched.

He leaned back slightly while the war healer resumed sealing his shoulder. “I am almost healed completely. The war healers are enough.”

“You are smoking from three places.”

“Two.”

“Your ribs are leaking.”

“Minor.”

“Your assistant looks one bad report away from crying.”

“That is ordinary workplace discipline.”

The assistant paled.

I almost facepalmed. I managed to hold it back because I was a crown prince, not a tired babysitter.

But spiritually?

I facepalmed so hard the entire Underworld felt it.

“Mamon,” I said, voice flat. “I brought that for your recovery.”

“And I accepted it as compensation for the extreme inconvenience of today.”

“I nearly died too.”

“You caused most of your own damage by touching the core.”

I stared.

He stared back.

The worst thing about Mamon was that he could insult me while being factually correct. Very disrespectful.

A war healer cleared his throat carefully. “My lord, an Epic rank potion would accelerate—”

Mamon looked at him.

The healer shut up again.

I pointed at the dimensional space where the potion vanished. “You are impossible.”

“I am efficient.”

“You should be in an Abyss Chamber.”

“I was.”

“You escaped?”

“I relocated treatment.”

“Here?” His expression said the answer was obvious. “Work accumulated.”

I closed my eyes.

For one breath, I understood Dad.

That was horrifying.

I opened them again. “Whatever.”

Mamon adjusted his glasses with the hand that wasn’t bandaged. “Luci is worse-tempered than me.”

“That’s normal.”

“He is in Pride’s restoration hall. He has dismissed six healers for looking at his face too sadly.”

“Also normal.”

His gaze flicked over me then, properly assessing. Not the suit. Not the posture. The parts underneath. He saw the faint stiffness in my burned hand, the exhaustion behind my eyes, the way I had dressed too perfectly to hide the fact I had just crawled out of royal healing hell.

“You should still be resting,” he said.

“So should you.”

He ignored me and looked back to his staff. “Resume in two minutes.”

They all straightened like prisoners spared execution.

I placed a second potion on his desk.

His eyes flicked to it.

“For actual use,” I said. “Not payment.”

His fingers twitched.

Greed suffered.

Beautiful.

“Drink one. Store one. Don’t make me come back.”

He stared at the second bottle like it personally offended his self-control.

Then, very slowly, he took it.

“Fine.”

He uncorked the bottle and drank half.

Not all.

But enough that the wounds across his shoulder sealed faster, the burn on his jaw faded, and the tension around his eyes eased by a fraction.

I pretended not to notice.

He pretended not to feel better.

Our weird friendship was disgusting.

I turned away. “I’m going to Luci.”

“Take this mirror.” He pulled out a mirror from his dimensional storage. And yes, it wasn’t just a normal mirror.

I paused. “Why?”

“He will want to confirm his face recovered beautifully.”

I sighed.

Then took that black mirror from his desk without asking.

Mamon didn’t complain.

I tucked it into my coat.

“Send me the full report later.”

I stared at him. My gaze said “Full report? Really?”

He tapped his tablet. “They are waiting.”

I opened a portal.

Before stepping through, I glanced back once.

Mamon had already returned to his meeting, potion half-empty beside him, war healers still working, assistant trembling through another report.

Crazy devil.

But alive.

That mattered.

I stepped into shadow and teleported away to Luci’s place.

Pride’s restoration hall greeted me with white marble, violet flame, gold mirrors, and the overwhelming scent of expensive incense trying very hard to convince everyone this was not a medical facility.

Very Luci.

Even his healing chamber looked like it had been designed by someone who believed suffering should have good lighting.

I expected him to be resting.

Or at least trying.

Maybe lying dramatically in the restoration pool with one hand over his forehead, telling the healers that death would be preferable to scars.

Instead, I froze.

Because Levi was there.

Sitting on a velvet chair beside the pool.

On his phone.

Laughing.

“So apparently mortals dress up with fake horns, fake tails, fake wings, and cheap red contact lenses once a year,” Levi said, scrolling with disturbing interest. “They call it Halloween. Look at this one. This mortal thinks he’s a demon lord because he has plastic claws.”

Luci’s eye twitched.

He was submerged waist-deep in Pride’s restoration pool, violet water glowing around his wounds. His hair was wet, his cheek still faintly marked, his shoulders tense enough to crack stone.

Beside the doorway, Asmo leaned against Luci’s assistant’s desk, smiling like a scandal in human form.

“You know,” Asmo purred, gently taking the assistant’s hand, “stress makes people age faster. Fortunately, I specialize in relief.”

The assistant blushed so hard I thought she might faint.

Luci’s other eye twitched.

Luci saw me.

His expression turned murderous.

“El,” he said softly.

That softness was a warning.

“Remove them.”

Levi lifted his phone. “Wait, before that, look at this. Mortal ‘sexy devil nurse’ costume.”

Asmo perked up. “Oh, that’s actually cute.”

The violet water around Luci began to boil.

I stared.

Then slowly lifted the potion.

“I brought healing.”

Luci’s gaze snapped to it.

“Good,” he said. “Use it to revive them after I kill them.”