Seven Sins System Chapter 665. You’re Still The Devil
Seven Sins System Chapter 665. You’re Still The Devil
Yeah, like I predicted—
She didn’t come.
Didn’t text.
Didn’t fly by.
Didn’t stand outside my window with that unreadable, frustrating, divine look on her face.
She didn’t bug me.
And yet—
I wasn’t technically alone.
The idiots made sure of that.
Darren, Barry, and Ion.
The unholy trinity of academic chaos. Loud, nosy, stupidly loyal, and painfully mortal. They crashed the infirmary around lunch like they were storming a food court, holding boxes of overpriced takeout and waving it around like medical supplies.
“Doc!” Ion shouted, already halfway through his drink. “We got you noodles! The chili oil will probably kill you!”
Barry held up a rice box like it was a sacred relic. “I’m gonna eat this in front of your desk while talking about inappropriate topics.”
Darren added, deadpan, “And I’m here to make sure no one dies. But only barely.”
I didn’t kick them out.
Didn’t smile, either. Not the real one.
But I let them crash.
I let them talk about their missions, their gear, their newest attempt at figuring out if Miss Kera’s breasts were real. They were, by the way—enhanced, but not fake, and all the usual idiocy that made them bearable.
The moment they left—one of them having spilled sauce on his boots, another forgetting his gloves—I was alone again.
Or so I thought.
The door opened quietly this time.
And in came Red.
Black heels. Blacker coat. Blood-red lipstick. Hair so sharp and sleek it looked like it had been styled with a blade. She didn’t walk—she glided. Like a secret waiting to be spilled on someone’s throat.
Red didn’t knock.
She just walked in like she owned the place, which—considering her daughters ran the academy—wasn’t far off.
“My Lord,” she said dryly. “You look like hell.”
I looked up from my notes, pen still moving.
“You’re one to talk,” I said. “Your eyes scream ‘I didn’t feed today.’”
“They scream because I watched you fake a smile at those three idiots for an hour,” she replied. “That’s enough to make any vampire scream.”
I snorted. “What, jealous of my fan club?”
“No,” she said. “Just mourning your taste in company.”
She came to stand beside my desk, her eyes scanning my face—not like a concerned friend. More like a predator reading blood pressure.
She knew.
Of course she knew.
And yet she didn’t say Puriel’s name out loud.
Not yet.
Instead, she dropped a file onto my desk with a soft thud.
“Read it,” she said. “Some weird mana echoes from the southern desert. Monsters there dropped dead. All at once. No survivors. No signs of disease or spell trails.”
I flipped the file open.
Saw the location.
Yep.
That was me.
“Caused by a powerful entity,” she continued. “But no one can trace the affinity. It’s like the energy was… distorted.”
My mouth curved, bitter. “It was a tantrum.”
Red’s eyes narrowed. “You?”
I just nodded.
She exhaled. Not judgmental. Just tired for me.
“You could’ve called me,” she said quietly.
I shrugged. “I didn’t want backup. I wanted the silence to scream.”
Red didn’t say anything for a moment.
Then she looked at me again—closer this time.
And her voice dropped. “Did something happen?”
My jaw ticked.
That was answer enough.
Red’s whole body stilled. Her fangs didn’t show, but her aura twitched. Just once.
“I could speak to her,” she offered.
My eyes snapped to hers.
“No.”
Not a shout. Not a bark. Just… steel.
“I’m not letting you start a hell war in the hallway.”
She raised a brow. “I wouldn’t kill her. I’d just make her… cry. A little.”
“Red.”
“She deserves it.”
“Red.”
She stared at me for a long second.
Then gave a slow, sarcastic sigh and crossed her arms.
“Fine,” she said. “No confrontation. But if she ever hurts you again, I’m biting something. And it won’t be you.”
“Noted.”
I leaned back in my chair.
She didn’t leave.
Just stood there.
Then slowly, her tone shifted.
“Penelope and Katrina are busy preparing tomorrow’s assignments,” she said. “While I… also want to report about a series of anomalies tied to your case. Possibly a summoning.”
I perked up. “Celestial or demonic?”
“Unknown. The signatures are layered. Masked.”
Figures.
Always masked.
I rubbed my temple. “Great. More ghosts. Just what I needed.” That wasn’t a sarcasm since yeah, I needed something to focus on.
She sat across from me finally, folding one leg over the other.
“I came to check on you,” she said. “You only act like this when you’re trying not to think.”
I gave her a look.
“And it’s not working,” she added.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You’re lying.”
I stared at the second sandwich on my desk.
Still untouched.
She reached over. Took it. Bit it.
“Mediocre,” she said around a mouthful. “Dry. She usually eats this with you, doesn’t she?”
I didn’t respond.
Because yeah.
She did.
And now she didn’t.
“I’ll be fine,” I said finally. “She just… needs time.”
Red’s eyes flicked to mine again. “And you?”
“I don’t get time,” I said. “I get aftermath.”
She leaned forward, propped her chin in her palm.
“I liked you better when you were angry.”
I smirked. “I liked me better before I cared.”
Red grinned back, fangs flashing. “Yeah, well, we all liked you better before you got soft.”
“Wow,” I muttered, deadpan. “Thanks for the support.”
She shrugged. “Just saying. Heartache doesn’t suit you, but rage? Rage looked delicious on you.”
I rolled my eyes. “You have the worst taste.”
She winked. “And you have the worst timing.”
“I try.”
Red turned to leave, her heels clicking against the floor. But at the door, she paused—head tilting just slightly.
“You’re still the devil, My Lord,” she said, her voice low and almost fond. “Even when you’re heart-sore and brooding like a wet cat.”
I gave her a lazy salute with my pen. “Remind me to hiss at someone later.”
“Please do.”
Then she was gone.
And I?
I finally took a bite of the damn sandwich.
Cold. Dry. Heavy.
Swallowed it anyway.
Then muttered under my breath—
“I don’t have a heart. I only have a core. Now I’ve grown one…”
I stared at the empty seat across from me.
“…and I hate it.”
And help me—
It kept beating anyway.