My Lust System: I Inherited The Sin Of Lust And His Three Wives

Clara stood motionless as the massive church doors slowly slid shut on their own with a deep mechanical rumble. The final echo lingered throughout the silent parish before fading completely, leaving only the faint sound of her own breathing. The body outside, the shattered phone, the blood staining the road, all of it vanished behind the sealed entrance as though the church itself had decided that Chapter was over.

For several long moments, neither of them spoke.

Clara slowly turned around and faced Faceless once more. This time she gave him her full attention. She no longer looked at the throne or the magnificent altar behind him. Her eyes remained fixed on the masked figure seated calmly before her. She did not bother concealing the frown etched across her face.

”Was that necessary?” Clara asked quietly.

Faceless remained silent for a moment. His calm eyes observed her expression as though weighing the sincerity behind her question. Eventually, he gave a firm nod.

”Yes.”

The single word made Clara’s brows knit together.

”What would you have me do?” he asked calmly.

”Send him away,” Clara answered almost immediately. ”Refuse his demands.”

A soft chuckle escaped Faceless before it gradually developed into a cold laugh. He leaned forward on the throne, resting one elbow against his knee as his eyes remained fixed upon her.

”And you believe a drug addict drowning in debt, desperate for another dose, would simply accept rejection and walk away peacefully?” His eyebrow rose slightly.

Buzz!

Clara frowned. She instinctively wanted to argue. But when the words reached the edge of her lips they stopped.

Faceless continued before she could recover.

”Tell me, Clara. Will you personally take responsibility for every innocent life harmed by the unfulfilled desires of one desperate man?”

Silence answered him.

The memory of the addict’s bloodshot eyes resurfaced in Clara’s mind. She remembered the hatred that had flashed across his face the instant she suggested denying his request. If Faceless had not been there, she could honestly imagine the man lunging at her without hesitation.

She slowly lowered her gaze.

Viewed from Damian’s perspective, allowing that man to leave was no different from releasing a starving predator into the middle of a crowded street. Someone would inevitably become his victim. Someone would be robbed or be stabbed or even die.

By granting the wish exactly as requested, the man had fulfilled his own desire. His greed consumed only himself. No innocent people were dragged into the consequences.

The realization unsettled her deeply. Because It made sense. Yet everything about it still felt wrong. She could not bring herself to admit it aloud.

”Now you understand the kind of decisions I am forced to confront every single day,” Faceless said quietly. ”The world is not divided into black and white as you were taught to believe.”

As he spoke, one gloved hand reached upward. He slowly removed the white fox mask. Beneath it Damian’s face appeared. The only difference was the long snow white hair flowing neatly over his shoulders, giving him a strangely divine appearance despite the familiar features.

Clara stared quietly. She already knew this was merely one of Damian’s clones. His appearance alone no longer surprised her.

Instead something else occupied her thoughts.

”Are you him?” she asked curiously.

The question was vague but Faceless understood exactly what she meant.

Was he Damian or was he someone else?

He thought about the answer for a brief moment.

”No and yes.”

Clara blinked several times.

”What?”

”I possess every one of Damian’s memories.”

He gently rested the fox mask upon his lap.

”But I possess an awareness independent of his own. I think separately. I experience separately. I draw my own conclusions. I am him... But I am also not him.”

His smile widened ever so slightly.

”I am simply another Damian.”

Clara felt her head begin spinning. She tried sorting through the explanation only to realize it somehow made both perfect sense and no sense whatsoever.

Eventually she gave up.

”Good.”

A relieved smile spread across her face. Faceless raised an eyebrow. He had expected confusion, not satisfaction.

She ignored his puzzled look altogether.

Slowly climbing the marble steps leading toward the throne, she carefully avoided making eye contact with him. Instead, she looked around the magnificent altar, admiring every detail except the man seated at its center.

Once she reached the throne, her attention settled upon the elegant white fox mask resting beside him.

She picked it up gently.

Turning it over in her hands, she examined its flawless craftsmanship before finally raising her eyes toward his face.

”I came here because...”

The sentence never finished and the massive parish doors suddenly swung inward. The deep groan of old hinges echoed throughout the empty church. Both Clara and Faceless instinctively turned toward the entrance.

A lone man calmly walked inside.

He possessed long crimson hair streaked with brilliant strands of white that flowed carelessly over his shoulders. A fitted red jacket rested over a black shirt while dark jeans disappeared neatly into heavy boots. His clothing resembled modern fashion, yet something about him felt profoundly out of place within the church.

Clara’s eyes lingered on him. He was undeniably handsome. While he could not compare to Damian’s overwhelming perfection. His charm possessed a sharper and almost hypnotic pull people would struggle to ignore.

For a brief instant she found herself staring.

”Demon.”

Faceless’s calm voice shattered her daze. Only then did Clara notice the man’s glowing crimson eyes.

Her heart skipped violently.

Instinctively she stepped backward, quickly circling behind the throne until Faceless stood between herself and the newcomer. She remained close enough to grip the back of the throne if necessary, though she could not explain why doing so made her feel safer.

Faceless himself remained perfectly still. Outwardly he appeared completely indifferent. But internally his thoughts were far less composed.

The newcomer was obviously male. Yet the resemblance reminded him uncannily of Hazel. The similarity was impossible to ignore.

As the stranger reached the foot of the altar, he stopped several meters away. Without the slightest hesitation, he lowered his head in a respectful bow.

”Allow me to introduce myself, Sire.”

His voice carried surprising warmth despite the predatory aura surrounding him.

”I’m your brother in law.”

He slowly raised his head and a faint smile crossed his lips.

”Hagrid.”