Seven Sins System Chapter 577. Sentimental Reasons

Seven Sins System Chapter 577. Sentimental Reasons

I blinked. “Me? Nervous?” I let out a laugh. “Please.”

She tilted her head slightly, looking up at me. “Not even a little?”

I thought about it for a second. “More curious than anything.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “That’s not the same as being careful.”

I rolled my eyes. “I am careful.”

She didn’t laugh. She just looked at me, long and hard, before finally shaking her head. “…Just be smart about this.”

I smirked, reaching up to ruffle her hair lightly. “I always am.”

Then, I leaned in closer, my breath warm against her ear. “By the way,” I murmured, voice lower, “was there really an attack at the park near here recently?”

Red didn’t react immediately. She only blinked once, then turned her head slightly to glance at me. “I don’t know.”

I leaned back, watching her carefully. “…Oh.”

Her expression shifted, something calculating flickering behind her crimson eyes. “Who told you that?”

“Puriel.”

She went silent.

I could see the way her fingers twitched, the way her jaw tightened for just a second before she smoothed her expression out again. “I see.” She let out a slow breath, then stood up, adjusting her dress. “I’ll send the details to your phone,” she said, her voice composed once again. “And I’ll be monitoring from here.”

I nodded. “Appreciate it.”

She hesitated for a moment longer, as if she wanted to say something else, but in the end, she just gave me one last look before turning toward the door.

Before she left, she paused, glancing back. “Be careful, Master.”

I smirked. “I live careful.”

She huffed, clearly not convinced, but said nothing more as she walked out, the door closing softly behind her.

The room fell into silence again.

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. An attack at the park, huh? If Red didn’t know about it, that meant it either wasn’t significant enough to be on her radar… or someone was deliberately keeping it quiet.

“So, dusk, huh?” I muttered.

I had time to kill. I picked up my sandwich again, taking another slow bite, the soft bread mixing with the slight tang of the tomato juice as I washed it down. It wasn’t fancy, but it got the job done.

And then I spoke.

“You heard that, right, Puriel?”

I didn’t need to turn around to know she was there. Sitting quietly on one of the infirmary beds. She was like that—silent, observant.  Not when Red or my other servants were around, anyway. I bet she was jealous.

Not that I could blame her. I was a devil, and sleeping around was just part of the whole deal. It wasn’t like I hid it. She knew what I was. What I did. But still, whenever Red—or any of the others—came and got too comfortable around me, Puriel would always just sit there, watching. Never saying a damn thing. Pretending she wasn’t even there.

It was kind of funny.

And kind of sad.

“I heard it.” Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.

I smirked. “We’ll move at dusk.”

“Yeah,” she said simply.

I reached into my desk, pulling out another paper bag, and tossed it toward her. “Your breakfast.”

She caught it with quick reflexes, then glanced at it before sitting up straighter. Without a word, she unwrapped the sandwich inside and took a small bite, eating in silence.

A minute passed before she spoke again. “…Why a sandwich?”

I looked at her, raising a brow. “What?”

She gestured to my food with her sandwich. “You always have something better. Didn’t your servants cook for you?”

I shrugged, finishing another bite before replying. “After what happened this morning?” I scoffed lightly, shaking my head. “The mess the trio made? Maybe they forgot.”

She frowned. “You don’t care?”

“Not really.” I lifted my sandwich in a mock toast. “Food’s food.”

She stared at me for a moment before looking down at her own meal, chewing slowly.

It was quiet for a bit. Peaceful.

Then she spoke again, softer this time. “You always act like this.”

I blinked. “Like what?”

“Like nothing gets to you.” She looked up, her eyes piercing. “Like you don’t care. Like life is just only your games.”

I tilted my head, smirking. “That’s because I don’t care.”

She didn’t believe me.

I could see it in her face. “…Liar.”

I chuckled. “I’ve been called worse.”

She exhaled through her nose, clearly frustrated but too used to me by now to push it further.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she finished her breakfast, her movements slow, controlled—like she was using the food as an excuse to think.

Then she finally said, “I’ll handle the angelic translation when we get to the temple.”

“Obviously,” I said with a grin. “That’s why you’re coming along.”

She frowned. “Not because you want me there?”

I paused.

She was looking at me again, expectant. Waiting for an answer.

“…I don’t take people with me for sentimental reasons, Puriel,” I said finally.

She didn’t react right away. Just held my gaze for a second longer before nodding. “I know.”

That should’ve been the end of it.

I exhaled, rubbing my temples. “Puriel—”

She didn’t move. Didn’t turn away this time.

Her eyes stayed locked on me, steady but… tired. A kind of exhaustion that went beyond just being physically drained. This was something deeper.

Something I wasn’t sure I wanted to dig into.

I leaned back in my chair, arms folded, studying her. “You’re not usually this direct.”

She huffed, a soft, humorless chuckle. “Maybe I’m just tired of pretending.”

I arched a brow. “Pretending what?”

“That I don’t care,” she said flatly. “That it doesn’t bother me when you let Red or the others cling to you like you’re the only thing keeping them alive.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “You knew what this was from the start.”

She scoffed. “Yeah. I did.”