Seven Sins System-Chapter 400. The Great Leader III

Seven Sins System Chapter 400. The Great Leader III

A Red Demon approached me. With a hand, he grasped the lever on the side of the large marble table and pulled it.

The table glided forward smoothly, inching closer towards the curtain. I felt a surge of anticipation coursing through me, mingled with a sense of curiosity about what lay beyond the curtain.

“Bow down!” one of the Red Demons bellowed.

In response, the occupants of the room obediently lowered their heads in unison.

It struck me then, the significance of this ritualistic gesture. It was a subtle yet effective way to maintain the illusion of the great leader's authority and mystique. By concealing his identity from his followers, he retained an air of enigma and power.

The table passed through the curtain. I surreptitiously summoned another one of my greed tentacles, manifesting it from my fingertip.

With a silent command, I transformed it into the form of a mosquito, its tiny wings buzzing softly as it darted towards the wall. Through its eyes, I could watch everything.

Also, I made the choice to keep pretending I was out cold, playing dumb until I could figure out what was really going on. Sure, the people behind the curtain were just mortals, but old habits die hard—especially when I'm staring into the unknown.

Despite my powers and abilities, I couldn't shake the sense of caution. Years of dealing with shadow realm politics and backstabbing had trained me to spot lies and read between the lines. That kind of survival instinct doesn’t just turn off, even when I'm the strongest one in the room.

Beyond the curtain, the room unfolded, revealing a scene that seemed like a twisted fusion of Luci's domain of pride and Asmo's domain of lust. The place gave off serious sleazy, over-the-top vibes—like some twisted devil’s playground.

The space was dimly lit, suffused with a crimson hue that cast shadows across the walls. The furnishings screamed luxury—plush velvet curtains hung over the windows, and fancy gold-framed mirrors bounced candlelight around the room in a warm, flickering glow.

In the center of the room, a huge bed dominated the space, its satin sheets all messed up like someone had just rolled off them. Sprawled across the mattress was a female elf, looking like she’d passed out mid-moment. Around the bed was a full-on collection of sex toys, laid out like someone had spent way too much time arranging them. Whips, ropes, and all kinds of gear sat neatly on the bedside table, like a twisted mix of art and kink.

Bottles of wine and decanters of alcohol littered the room, their contents spilled haphazardly across the floor. The air was heavy with the heady scent of liquor and arousal, mingling with musk and sweat.

My mosquito’s gaze swept across the room, taking in the sight of three other women in various states of undress and restraint.

One lay within a cage, her form curled into a fetal position.

Another was bound to an X-shaped pole, her limbs stretched taut against the restraints, while the third was secured to a strange chair that bore a striking resemblance to the infamous collection found within Asmo's domain.

All of them were naked. They looked completely out of it—limp, lifeless, like whatever happened here had sucked the energy right out of them.

But above all, my attention was focused on the person they hailed as their great leader. I stifled a cringe. Instead of the fearsome demon, standing before me was a creature that resembled more of a kraken than anything else.

His skin bore a pale blue hue, a contrast to the darkness that usually envelops my real form. Even though I was caught off guard at first, I had to admit—he was kinda good-looking. He also had the cocky look in his eyes which kinda looked like mine.

Physically, he looked like one of those rich, high-society types—fit, well-fed, and clearly used to the finer things. He was about my height, carrying himself with the kind of confidence that tipped dangerously close to full-blown arrogance.

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Unlike the ones I use, his tentacles looked more like an octopus’s—covered in tiny suckers, smooth and slick. Mine are made for tearing through enemies, straight-up built for battle. His? They looked more like tools for grabbing, holding, or maybe even toying with people, which only made me like him less.

Also, he posed two of his tentacles like his legs and raised the other six behind him, giving the illusion that they were emerging from his back. It was a cheap imitation of my own demonic form.

He sauntered towards me, his gaze filled with a mixture of contempt and superiority. A smirk played at the corners of his lips, his arrogance palpable in the air around him.

“You shouldn't play with the devil,” he hissed, his voice dripping with displeasure.

I wanted to pretend a little longer, to keep up the facade of being unconscious. But his words tickled my ears.

Out of a sudden, I opened my eyes, lashes fluttering as if awakening from a deep slumber. I turned my head, meeting his gaze with a mixture of defiance and amusement. His eyes locked onto mine, a smirk playing at the corners of my lips.

"That's supposed to be my line," I stated.

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