The Incubus System Chapter 1174. Not An Achievement

The Incubus System Chapter 1174. Not An Achievement

Red perked up. “Ooooh, did you? That would’ve been so badass.”

Shadow rolled his eyes. “And then immediately get arrested. Yes, excellent move.”

“I agree,” Buni added with a sniff.

I cringed, holding up both hands like I was surrendering to a toddler with a foam sword. “Uh… you know, being a demon lord isn’t really an achievement in the human realm.”

Puriel tilted her head from her usual silent perch on the arm of the couch. “Wait… what?”

“It’s not an achievement?” she asked, genuinely baffled. “I mean—you are a demon lord. You’ve fought rogue demons, cleansed corrupted zones, even protected parts of the mortal realm. That sounds like a protector to me.”

I sighed, voice dry. “Sadly, no. Here? In this world? Being a demon lord is about as respected as being a hot dog vendor who also breathes fire.”

“Sounds cool to me,” Red muttered. “I’d eat his hot dogs.”

“That metaphor makes no sense,” Shadow replied, tail flicking in irritation.

“Shhh, let His Highness cope,” Buni added solemnly.

Puriel frowned, clearly struggling with the logic. “But… you rule a major realm. You have divine clearance. And now… You’re registered as a Celestial Hybrid with access to both Hell and Light realms. You’re—”

“An emotional disaster who slept with his mom, sister, and stepsis,” I muttered.

“...also that,” Foxy said helpfully from the floor, where she was brushing her tails. “Master’s cute, though.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Celia popped another cupcake in her mouth and spoke through the bite. “So—you didn’t transform in front of Mom?”

“No.”

“Didn’t summon a portal? Raise the floor in flames? Speak in demon tongue?”

“No, Celia. I walked in. Like a normal person. Also, there’s no such thing as demon tongue.”

She stared at me like I’d just told her I failed a kindergarten spelling bee.

“Wow,” she said flatly. “You’re really wasting your powers.”

“Didn’t realize I had to run a flashy performance every time I see Mom.”

“Well, if you did, she might actually feel the consequences of what she did.”

My jaw tightened.

Celia’s tone wasn’t angry, not quite. It was brittle. Like a thread stretched too thin. And underneath the sugar, the jokes, the snark—I could still hear it. That bitterness. The betrayal.

“She took out loans with the house certificate, Ethan,” she said quietly. “She ran off with that man and nearly got us thrown out of our house.”

“I know,” I said, softer now. “I remember.”

She blinked rapidly, like she was forcing tears back where they came from. “So don’t defend her, okay? Just because she’s being all ‘I need your help for the trial’ now, doesn’t mean she suddenly cares.”

“I’m not defending her.”

“Good.”

Long silence. Just the quiet ticking of the wall clock and the faint buzz of the muted TV.

Then Foxy broke it. “So… are there any cupcakes left for non-humans?”

“No,” I and Celia said at the exact same time.

Shadow muttered something foul under his breath and slunk off to the kitchen. Red followed, hopeful. Rave stayed perched on the curtain rod like an emo roommate waiting for his band practice to start. Buni remained where he was, chewing the air dramatically like a man denied cake on his birthday.

Celia sighed, leaned over, and flopped against me with cupcake crumbs in her hair.

I draped an arm over her shoulder and stared up at the ceiling.

“I didn’t show her the demon side,” I said after a while. “Yet.”

Celia leaned her head against my shoulder, still smelling like cupcakes and shampoo, the empty box cradled in her lap like she’d won a prize. “Yet?” she repeated, tone casual, but I knew her well enough to hear the edge beneath it.

“If I need to,” I said. “I’m hoping I don’t.”

The TV played quietly in the background now—some dramatic vampire and werewolf romance with way too many shirtless fight scenes. Nobody was really watching. Even the pets had retreated to their favorite nap spots, and Foxy was sprawled on the rug humming something soft while brushing her tails. Puriel still sat on the armrest like a weirdly elegant gargoyle, sipping from her honey milk tea.

I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “To be honest, sharing this… the real me… I only want to share it with people I trust. You. Emma. Larry. Tiffany. Puriel. Even the little chaos squad running around the house.”

“You mean us,” Celia said.

“Exactly. Us.” I glanced sideways at her. “Her? No. I don’t trust her. Not even a little.”

Celia was quiet for a second, then she spoke with that calm tone she used when she was trying not to sound as pissed off as she really was. “If you tell her, she might regret what happened.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Still doesn’t fix anything.”

“She won’t dare to bother us again,” she added, a little colder now. “Rotting in jail is probably the best thing that could happen to her. Like mercy, if you think about it.”

I tilted my head. “Mercy. You sound like Rave.”

Rave cawed from across the room. “Hey!”

Celia didn’t even acknowledge it. “Imagine this,” she said, eyes shining slightly. “Imagine the regret. Her own son turns into a demon lord—a demon, Ethan. Not just that. You’re rich now. You have a mansion, servants, power over an entire realm.”

I raised a brow. “You say that like I’m some hotshot in a fantasy novel.”

“You are, dumbass,” she said, lightly punching my arm. “You have more power than she could ever understand. And you built all that without her.”

I chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Maybe. But one more thing scares me.”

“What?”

“She might tell the senators. Or councilmen. Or anyone who already hates me. Anyone who’s just looking for a reason to start something.” I paused, letting it hang for a second. “She’ll expose everything. My past. My friends. My partners.”

Celia frowned. “So what? You’ll be fine.”

“I will,” I said. “But what about you? What about Tiffany? Larry? Emma? Mrs. Clea? If people know what I really am, they’ll treat you all like you’re tainted. Like you’re threats just by association.”