Seven Sins System Chapter 285. Cruel Game II (Patreon)

Seven Sins System Chapter 285. Cruel Game II

The twisted game continued, our morbid entertainment fueled by the unique torment of each damned soul. With a casual wave of my hand, the first target vanished, replaced by another unfortunate soul caught in the throes of eternal suffering. It was a grim carousel of agony, a macabre dance of punishment that we orchestrated with a disturbing sense of amusement.

The souls we selected for this game were freshly condemned, their pleas for mercy and futile struggles a stark contrast to the resigned acceptance that came with time. These new arrivals to the shadow realm were still ablaze with the fire of resistance, their will to fight against their fate evident in the desperation that gleamed in their eyes.

As the next soul materialized before us, I exchanged a glance with Luci, our expressions a mirror of shared anticipation. "Let's keep the party going, shall we?" I quipped, a wry smile playing on my lips. The target's terrified gaze met mine, its voice a tremulous symphony of fear as it begged for leniency.

The room reverberated with the soul's screams, the air heavy with a sense of impending doom. "There's no escape, no forgiveness. Just the consequences of your actions,” Luci sneered, his words a haunting echo of my earlier sentiment.

I leaned back in my seat, my eyes fixed on the agonized display before me. Each scream, each plea, was a testament to the weight of sins too heavy to bear. It was a chilling reminder that here, in this realm of perpetual darkness, redemption was a distant dream, forever out of reach.

We traded turns, each shot punctuated by the soul's tormented cries. The targets shifted, the faces changing, but the cycle of suffering remained unbroken. And yet, despite the morbid nature of our entertainment, I couldn't help but sense a growing ennui, a weariness that settled in the air.

"Boring," Luci scoffed as another soul crumbled before us, its spirit broken and defeated.

I nodded in agreement, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. "Yeah, it's not fun anymore."

The game eventually ground to a halt, the thrill of sadistic amusement waning in the face of monotony. Luci glanced at his watch, a resigned sigh escaping his lips. "I've got work to do," he muttered, his tone a mixture of irritation and duty. It was a reminder that even as lords of this shadowed realm, our responsibilities extended beyond this twisted form of entertainment.

I nodded in understanding. "Seems like the party's over."

The souls, their voices reduced to echoes of pain, dissipated into nothingness as the game came to an end. The room, once a stage for our dark amusement, settled into an eerie silence.

After the grim spectacle of the game concluded, Luci and I parted ways. He headed back to his office, likely swamped with the affairs of his dominion. As for me, I turned my steps toward the entertainment room, a place where the atmosphere was far removed from the heavy weight of the damned souls' torment.

The luxurious entertainment room exuded an air of opulence and comfort, a stark contrast to the grim scenes often associated with the shadow realm. Soft, velvety couches adorned the space, their deep colors inviting one to sink into their plush cushions. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries that depicted scenes from various worlds. The room was illuminated by a warm, ambient light, casting a cozy and inviting glow that softened the edges of the dominion's harsh reality.

The women were already making themselves at home. Julia was engrossed in a game of cards with Claire, their laughter mingling with the sound of shuffling cards. Evie and Rachel sat by the ornate fireplace, chatting animatedly as they sipped on glasses of wine. Lily, with her ever-present mischievous glint, was engaged in a game of darts with Ivy, the two of them trading competitive banter as they aimed for the target.

The tension that had accompanied them from the spectacle of the damned souls seemed to melt away in this space.

Amidst the laughter and activities of my women, I found myself sinking into the couch, my thoughts veering away from the immediate scene before me. It was as if my mind had been captured by Baelthor’s words. The thought of the recipes he had mentioned gnawed at me, a mixture of curiosity and trepidation intertwining.

The recipes, seemingly a gateway to untold power, loomed large in my thoughts. The notion of crafting them was tantalizing, promising capabilities that could potentially shift the balance of our dominion. Yet, a nagging doubt tugged at my consciousness. The ingredients required were not easily acquired, and even more concerning were the potential side effects. Would the pursuit of power inadvertently unleash the ancient demon within me, a force I had fought to control?

Lost in my contemplations, I was gently pulled back to the present as Julia approached, her warm smile cutting through my reverie. A glass of champagne was extended to me, a gesture of comfort. Her words held a note of concern, an astute observation of my internal turmoil.

"Your Highness, you look like you have a lot on your mind," Julia's voice reached me.

I managed a faint smile, appreciating her perceptiveness. Taking the glass from her, I let the cool bubbles of the champagne soothe my thoughts. "Just call my name. You don't have to be too formal with me.”

"I should," Julia began, her tone carrying a weight that mirrored the significance of her thoughts. "I was too surprised since your life here is very different from that in the mortal realm," she confessed, her eyes searching mine for understanding.

A wry smile tugged at my lips, her words unveiling a truth that often went unspoken. The dichotomy between my existence as a prince of the shadow realm and the identity I held in the mortal world was indeed stark.

I leaned back slightly, taking in the earnestness in her expression. "Didn't I say that I am the prince?" A hint of playful admonishment woven into my words. The remainder felt oddly necessary.

Julia's response was immediate, a mixture of exasperation and disbelief evident in her tone. "You did. But I thought… You are not like this," she admitted, her gaze probing as if seeking answers beyond the surface.

I offered a soft chuckle, the sound a blend of amusement and introspection. "Not like this?" I echoed, prompting her to elaborate on her perception.

She seemed to wrestle with her thoughts, her brows furrowing in concentration as she struggled to articulate her feelings. "How I put it…" she began, her voice trailing off as she sifted through the intricacies of her impressions. "You don't look cruel when you're Dr. Allen," she finally settled on, her words carrying a blend of surprise and confusion.