Seven Sins System Chapter 783. Optimistic

Seven Sins System Chapter 783. Optimistic

Lumira tilted her head slightly, sensing it.

“And you must be…” she began gently.

“Lieutenant Algan,” he cut in flatly.

No smile. No warmth.

Just title.

Lumira didn’t flinch.

“Lieutenant,” she repeated softly. “It’s a pleasure.”

He didn’t return it.

Silence stretched just a little too long, the kind that makes the air feel thicker than it needs to be. Luci leaned back against the counter like he was watching a live show and had front row seats.

“He’s not fond of angels,” Luci said casually, like he was commenting on the weather.

“That is obvious,” Lumira replied, calm as ever.

Puriel stepped forward, not aggressive, just steady. “Algan, we are not enemies here.”

His eyes snapped to hers immediately. “You are angels.”

“Yes,” she said evenly.

“That has historically ended badly for Wrath.”

The room tightened. Not explosive. Just… tense.

I stepped slightly to the side, subtle, putting myself between them without making it dramatic. “Algan,” I said quietly.

He didn’t look away from Puriel.

“Stand down,” I added.

A pause.

Then a slow breath.

“Yes, my—” He caught himself, jaw tightening. “Dr. Allen.”

Lumira watched the whole thing with that soft, observant expression. No judgment. No superiority. Just… taking it in.

“I understand distrust,” she said gently. “But I am not here to judge you.”

Algan didn’t relax. He just shifted his weight like he was ready to move if necessary.

“Kindness,” Luci cut in smoothly, drifting closer to Lumira like this was a ballroom instead of an infirmary. “You always did enjoy optimistic speeches.”

She smiled at him, warm and open. “And you always enjoyed being admired.”

His lips curved instantly. “That is accurate.”

I sighed internally.

Lumira looked around the infirmary, her gaze softening as she took in the shelves of bandages, antiseptic, mortal medicine.

“This place is fascinating,” she said quietly. “Mortals heal each other with such limited tools.”

“They bleed easily,” Algan muttered.

Puriel glanced at him. “And yet they keep standing.”

He didn’t reply.

Luci took that as his cue to slide half a step closer to Lumira again.

“You look well,” he said, smooth as silk.

“And you look… overdressed,” she teased lightly.

He smirked. “I maintain standards.”

She nodded approvingly. “You always did.”

And that approval hit him like premium fuel.

I watched it happen in real time.

His posture straightened another inch. Shoulders back. Chin lifted. If Pride had a theme song it would have started playing.

“Yes,” Luci said smoothly, adjusting the collar of his professor coat. “Standards are essential.”

Lumira clasped her hands together, she genuinely agreed with him. “I think it’s admirable.”

I inhaled slowly.

Please stop feeding him.

He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice into that refined, council meeting tone he used when he wanted to sound profound.

“Most beings confuse indulgence with elegance,” he said. “True elegance is restraint.”

Lumira tilted her head, eyes bright with interest. “Oh?”

“Restraint is power,” he continued. “Knowing you could dominate a room… and choosing to simply own it.”

Algan made a quiet choking sound.

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“That’s beautiful,” Lumira said earnestly.

I stared at her.

Luci blinked, caught off guard by how sincere she sounded.

“You think so?” he asked, clearly fishing now.

“I do,” she replied without hesitation. “It takes self awareness to hold back.”

He visibly swelled with satisfaction.

“I have been summoned by mortals for centuries,” Luci continued, fully in flex mode now. “Kings. Nobles. Generals. They sought my counsel.”

I folded my arms.

Here we go.

“They built statues,” he added casually. “Temples, even.”

“Temples?” Lumira repeated, wide eyed.

“Yes,” he said modestly. “Though I discouraged excessive devotion.”

“You’re so humble,” she breathed.

I facepalmed.

Actually facepalmed.

Puriel looked at me like she was trying not to laugh.

“He’s absorbing,” I muttered.

Algan leaned slightly closer. “He is expanding.”

Luci wasn’t glowing physically, but spiritually? Ego wise? Absolutely.

“Pride is not arrogance,” he said smoothly. “It is precision.”

She smiled warmly.

I slowly turned my head to Puriel.

She mouthed, You were right.

Yes. I was.

Luci glanced at the wine glass sitting on my desk and picked it up again before I could stop him.

“A refined mind appreciates refined taste,” he said, offering it toward Lumira. “Would you care for a sip?”

She hesitated for exactly one second.

“It wouldn’t be improper?” she asked softly.

“It is controlled indulgence,” he assured.

Wrong sentence. Wrong choice.

She smiled. “Then… just a little.”

“Absolutely not,” I said flatly.

They ignored me.

He handed her the glass with ridiculous grace. She accepted it carefully, like it was some ceremonial relic.

She took the tiniest sip.

Her eyes widened.

“Oh,” she whispered. “That’s… layered.”

Luci looked like he had just been crowned.

“It is aged in shadow casks,” he said.

“Shadow casks,” she repeated, impressed.

I rubbed my face again.

“Should I confiscate?” Algan murmured.

“Yes,” I said.

“No,” Luci snapped at the same time.

Puriel sighed. “Luci, this is a mortal institution.”

“I am in human form,” he replied. “This is human wine.”

“It smells like Hell,” I muttered.

Lumira blinked. “It does have depth.”

Luci leaned slightly closer. “You have refined taste.”

She brightened. “Do I?”

“Yes.”

I considered walking into traffic.

“You know,” Luci continued, warming up even more, “mortals respond to presence. Authority.”

“They must,” Lumira said happily. “You carry yourself like someone who has nothing to prove.”

That one almost ended me.

Algan tilted his head toward the ceiling like he was asking Wrath for strength.

Puriel’s lips pressed together so tightly she might crack them.

Luci placed a hand over his chest. “I appreciate perceptive company.”

Lumira beamed. “I just try to see the best in everyone.”

“Then you are succeeding,” he replied smoothly.

I stared at them both, deadpan.

Yeah, they’d known each other forever. Just not like this. Usually it was long tables, formal meetings, controlled diplomacy. No flirting. No ego feeding. The real clashes were always me and Puriel. We were the ones arguing, almost turning discussions into wars. And these two? They were the calm ones pulling us back.

Now?

Now Pride was being praised like a prized war horse and Kindness was smiling like she’d just discovered a new hobby.

And I was stuck in the middle.

Again.