Seven Sins System Chapter 550. Hot MILFs in Your Area—Click Here!

Seven Sins System Chapter 550. Hot MILFs in Your Area—Click Here!

We landed in what could only be described as one of Asmo’s more over-the-top creations. The room was dimly lit, casting soft, flickering shadows on the dark stone walls. In the center of the room was a raised stage, illuminated by the glow of enchanted orbs floating above it. Surrounding the stage were seven chairs arranged in a perfect semicircle. Each chair was as extravagant as I’d expect for the Seven Sin Lords—deep cushions for maximum comfort, gilded armrests, and intricate designs carved into the backrests. But the real eye-catcher? The masks.

Each chair had a mask resting on it, gleaming under the soft light. They were made of gold and diamond, clearly expensive and probably enchanted for some unnecessary reason. I cringed inwardly as I stared at them. The idea was… ridiculous. As if putting on a mask would somehow make us anonymous.

"Seriously?" I muttered, giving Asmo a skeptical look. "Masks? What’s the point? Anyone can tell who we are just by looking at us."

"Exactly," Luci said, already inspecting his mask with mild disdain. "We have distinct hair colors, body postures, and horns. Not to mention Beel will always be eating, and Belph will always be asleep."

"And Levi---," I added.

Before I could speak more, Levi, still being carried by my tentacles, snarled, "Let me go!"

"Gladly," I said, canceling my telekinesis and tentacles. Levi dropped unceremoniously to the floor with a loud thud. He groaned, getting back up and brushing nonexistent dust from his black suit.

"That’s the worst landing I’ve ever experienced," he grumbled, glaring at me.

"You’re welcome," I said with a smug grin.

Levi didn’t bother replying. He was too busy trying to smooth out the creases in his outfit.

Asmo clapped his hands, drawing our attention. "Come on, guys. Take your seats, put on your masks, and relax. This is supposed to be fun!"

"Fun," Luci repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Right. Because nothing screams fun like mandatory masks and awkward seating."

Mammon, meanwhile, had already made himself comfortable. He was eyeing the masks like they were priceless treasures. "These masks must be worth a fortune," he muttered, probably calculating their value in his head. "Gold and diamond, enchanted… Hmm, if we sold these—"

"For hell’s sake, Mammon," I groaned, taking my seat. "Not everything needs to be about money."

Mammon smirked, adjusting his mask as if it were a crown. "Everything is about money, Azrael. You’ll learn that someday."

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, reluctantly putting on the mask. It didn’t feel uncomfortable, at least, but the whole idea of it still felt pointless. Once we were all seated, Asmo clapped his hands again, the sound echoing through the room.

"Okay, listen up!" Asmo said cheerfully. "The rules are simple. If you see a girl you like, just light the fire next to you." He gestured toward a series of ornate torches placed beside each chair. "It doesn’t need wood or anything. Just a little demonic energy, and boom—instant flame!"

I glanced at the torch beside me, unimpressed. Luci looked equally uninterested, already reaching for the nearest bottle of wine instead.

"Let’s get started!" Asmo declared, clapping his hands twice.

A pair of succubi appeared on the stage, dressed—or rather, barely dressed—in the skimpiest outfits imaginable. They strutted to the center, hips swaying, and began a slow, sensual dance. Every movement was calculated to seduce, from the way they arched their backs to the way their fingers trailed over their bodies. Their eyes gleamed with demonic charm, targeting us like hunters sizing up prey.

The problem? No one cared.

Well, no one except Asmo.

"Yesss," Asmo hissed under his breath, leaning forward with a wide grin. "Now this is what I’m talking about."

Meanwhile, Luci poured himself another glass of wine, paying more attention to the liquid swirling in his glass than the succubi on stage. "This wine has a better body than those two," he muttered, taking a sip.

Levi had already pulled out his phone, scrolling through whatever demonic equivalent of social media he was addicted to. His fingers moved with practiced speed, his eyes glued to the screen. Every now and then, he muttered something about lag or bad servers.

Belph? Predictably, he was asleep. Again. His body slumped in the chair, his mask slightly askew, with his pillow tucked under his head.

Beel, on the other hand, was entirely focused on his food. He didn’t even glance at the stage as he stuffed another chunk of roasted hellbeast into his mouth.

And Mammon? Well, Mammon was doing what Mammon does best—counting. But not his money this time. No, he was muttering under his breath, calculating something else.

"Are you seriously counting the masks’ price?" I asked, giving him a disbelieving look.

Mammon didn’t even glance up. "Of course. Do you have any idea how much these things are worth? If we melted down the gold alone—"

"I can’t believe this," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "This is a disaster."

Asmo, clearly unbothered by the lack of enthusiasm, waved a hand dismissively. "Relax, Azrael. This is just the warm-up. Things will get spicier soon."

"Spicier?" Luci repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Unless you’ve got a wine that can actually impress me, I doubt it."

"Come on, guys," Asmo whined, pouting slightly. "At least pretend to enjoy yourselves."

"We are," I said flatly. "This is us relaxing."

Asmo sighed, muttering something about how hard it was to entertain royalty. The succubi on stage, realizing they weren’t getting much of a reaction, started trying harder—twisting into more elaborate poses, running their hands over each other, and casting their best seductive glances in our direction.

Still nothing.

Levi didn’t even look up from his phone. "I’ve seen better in mortal ads," he muttered, scrolling. “Something in random banner with the words ’Hot MILFs in your area—click here’ or ‘Single college girls just 1 km away’.”

Mammon raised a hand. "If you’re offering a bidding war for my service, I might be interested. Otherwise, pass."