The Incubus System Chapter 1142. Like Brother, Like Sister

The Incubus System Chapter 1142. Like Brother, Like Sister

Celia grinned wider. “Of course not.”

I groaned. “Then how the hell did you win?”

She smirked. “Strategy.” Celia continued, completely unbothered. “I let him go first. He struggled. Like, dude was all red-faced, veins popping, sweating like crazy. But he did it.”

She paused for effect. “Then it was my turn.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Celia grinned. “And I acted.” She put a hand to her chest, mimicking a fragile damsel in distress. “I sat down on the bench, wiped my brow dramatically, and said, ‘Oh my gosh, this is soooo heavy.’”

Shadow cackled.

Foxy leaned in, tails flicking excitedly. “What next?”

Celia smirked. “I made the biggest show of struggling. Shaking arms, a little whimper, the whole deal. And they fell for it.”

I groaned. “Seriously?!”

She grinned. “One of the trainers rushed in to ‘help me.’ And then, bam.”

I squinted. “Bam what?”

Celia’s grin widened. “I played weak, made them feel guilty, and they just gave me the prize anyway.”

I stared. “That’s not winning, that’s manipulation.”

She shrugged. “Winning, manipulation, same thing.”

I sighed. “So let me get this straight. You went to a gym you don’t go to, hustled a bunch of gym bros, and walked away with free protein?”

She nodded. “Correct.”

Shadow whistled. “I respect it.”

Red wagged his tail. “Not gonna lie, that’s kinda impressive.”

Rave flapped his wings. “Bulk. Gains.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “Celia… I can’t decide if I’m proud or disappointed.”

She smirked. “Both.”

Foxy grinned. “Hey, as long as we’re getting free food, I say let her cook.”

Celia gestured dramatically. “Exactly! You guys are so ungrateful. I worked hard for that protein.”

I deadpanned. “You literally didn’t lift a single weight.”

Celia grinned. “And yet, here we are.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Congratulations on conning a gym full of meatheads.”

She smirked, leaning on the counter. “Hey, don’t act all high and mighty. We’re the same, you know.”

I paused, blinking. “We? No.”

Celia tilted her head. “Yes.”

I scoffed. “Absolutely not. I have never done something like that. Why would I ever act weak and innocent just to get something?”

Puriel, who had been watching this whole thing like a judge at an execution, finally spoke. She gave me a flat stare. “Uh-huh,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “That sounds exactly like what you just did to Lilieth.”

I froze.

Shadow snickered. “Oh, she’s got a point.”

Red wagged his tail, grinning. “Yeah. I also agree with her.”

I scowled. “That’s different!”

Celia crossed her arms, smirking even harder. “Oh? Tell me.”

I pressed my lips together. Because, yeah… it was kinda the same. Too similar. But I wasn’t about to admit defeat!

I cleared my throat, shifting my stance. “Listen. I did that to tease Lilieth. To get my—uh, well, my incubus breakfast.”

Celia raised an eyebrow. “And I did it to get free protein.”

I pointed at her. “That’s not the same.”

Puriel sighed. “It is exactly the same.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but— Celia interrupted me. “Ha!” she clapped her hands. “You’re speechless!”

I gritted my teeth, internally screaming. ‘This is so ironic!’

Red nudged Shadow. “I never thought we’d see the day where His Highness gets shut down.”

Shadow nodded sagely. “A historic moment.”

I glared. “Whose side are you even on?!”

Puriel sighed dramatically. “Guess you guys really are siblings, huh?”

Celia beamed. “Obviously.” Then, before I could even react, Celia threw an arm around my shoulder and pulled me in like we were some kind of crime duo.

She grinned, eyes sparkling with pure mischief. “Face it, bro. We have the same menace.”

I froze.

Still stuck in my existential crisis, still processing the absolute betrayal of my entire household ganging up on me, still trying to find a loophole in Celia’s logic—when suddenly…

Ding!

A sharp ring echoed through the house—the distinct sound of the doorbell.

For a second, nobody moved.

Then—Celia immediately clapped her hands. “Alright! Positions, everyone!”

Puriel frowned in confusion. “Huh? Why?”

“Hide your wings,” Celia continued, pointing at Puriel. “I don’t need the guest having a holy crisis on the front porch.”

Puriel sighed, her wings vanishing in a shimmer of light.

Celia spun on her heel. “Everyone else—act normal.”

Red, mid-yawn, blinked. “Define normal.”

Celia squinted. “Don’t talk. Don’t float. Don’t shapeshift. Don’t steal the guest’s soul.”

Shadow stretched, flicking his tail. “You’re asking a lot.”

Rave flapped his wings. “Silent mode. Engaged.”

Before I could even process anything, Celia was already heading toward the door.

Meanwhile, I was still standing there. Frozen. Like an idiot.

Celia didn’t notice. She swung open the door without hesitation, flashing her usual friendly-but-weirdly-suspicious smile. “Good morning!”

The mailman stood there, holding a sealed envelope. His uniform was slightly wrinkled, his cap tilted, and he had the exhausted face of a man who had already seen too much today.

He blinked at her, cleared his throat, then held up the letter. “Emergency letter for Mr. Ethan Strongheart.”

My name.

The second I heard it, I snapped back to reality.

Once he handed the envelope, Celia’s smile immediately faltered. Her entire expression changed. Gone was the usual playful, sarcastic Celia. Instead, her face twisted into something unreadable. Something… serious. Her eyes darted to the envelope, and I could see the moment she noticed something. Her grip tightened.

“Thanks,” she said, voice noticeably less enthusiastic.

The mailman nodded, muttered something about his shift being hell, then turned and walked away.

Celia watched him go.

Then, slowly, she closed the door.

She didn’t move. She just stood there, staring at the letter in her hands.

I frowned. “Celia?”

She didn’t answer. That wasn’t normal.

Celia was still standing there, gripping the envelope like it might bite her.

Her expression was completely shut down. No teasing, no sarcasm—just blank.

I didn’t like it.

Not one bit.

I quickly approached her, eyes locked onto the letter in her hands. Even before I grabbed it, I had a bad feeling. Because seriously—who even uses mail anymore? The only people still sending physical letters were government agencies, banks, and people who refuse to accept technology exists.

And given the big, bold ‘URGENT’ stamp on the front?

Yeah. I already knew.