Chapter 381. This Isn’t Love, Right?
Seven Sins System Chapter 381. This Isn't Love, Right?
'Wait... this isn't love, right?' I thought, my heart skipping a beat at the mere suggestion of such a possibility. Just the thought of all my jokes and teases on Puriel backfiring on me was enough to make me shudder.
But then, like a bolt from the blue, a memory surfaced—one that I had long buried in the recesses of my mind. It was a conversation with my father, a stern warning delivered with all the authority of a devil lord.
"Azrael, devils can't fall in love! It will only destroy you! A devil can't have a heart!”
His words echoed in my head with a chilling clarity. It was something he had said to me after the calamity, after he had erased my memories and left me adrift in a sea of emptiness.
I remembered those dark days vividly—the numbness that had consumed me, the sense of purposelessness that had left me feeling hollow inside. It was a time when I didn't have any desires, not even the will to move. But somehow, my father had managed to pull me back from the brink, forcing me to confront the harsh realities.
"Ugh!" I groaned, my hands instinctively flying to my face as if to shield myself from an invisible blow. It wasn't a physical pain that gripped me, but a mental anguish that seemed to pierce straight through to my core. It felt like I was being bitten by a thousand tiny needles, each one digging deeper into my soulless core.
The agony washed over me. I couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. It was the same pain I had felt when the calamity had ripped through my life, tearing apart everything I held dear. And just like then, I felt my past bearing down on me.
My breathing grew heavier, like a struggle against an invisible force. It was like something was squeezing my chest, constricting around my core until I could hardly draw in air.
Demons were a different breed altogether—literally and figuratively. We weren't like humans or angels. We had our own set of rules, our own way of existing in this messed-up world.
We felt lust, sure. That was ingrained in our very nature, part of what made us demons in the first place. But love? That was a whole different ball game. And the reason was simple: demons didn't have hearts. Not in the metaphorical sense, anyway. Our core served as the center of our existence, housing our demonic power and fueling our every move.
Sure, we could feel excitement, sadness, anger, joy—all the usual suspects. But love? That was reserved for creatures with hearts, beings who could experience the full spectrum of human emotions. For demons like us, love was nothing more than a foreign concept, something we could never truly grasp.
And that was for a good reason. Love had a way of disrupting our core, throwing our demonic power into disarray. A demon with a heart was bad news, a ticking time bomb just waiting to explode. It was a risk I couldn't afford to take, not when the stakes were so high. So yeah, as much as I hated to admit it, love was off the table for me.
The tap that almost landed on my shoulder jolted me back to reality, sending a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins. My senses heightened in an instant, every nerve on edge as if I were primed for battle. My muscles tensed, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. I even felt the urge to unleash my tentacles, to lash out and defend myself against whatever perceived threat lurked nearby.
But then, a tiny voice of reason whispered in the back of my mind, reminding me of where I was and who I was pretending to be. I was still in the mortal realm, still wearing the guise of a mere human. I had to restrain myself, to keep my demonic instincts in check lest I blow my cover and reveal my true identity to the unsuspecting mortals around me.
With a sharp intake of breath, I brushed off the tap on my shoulder. I turned to face Puriel and could see the shock written plainly across her features.
"Azrael, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine worry.
I swallowed hard, trying to regain my composure as I withdrew my hand and cleared my throat. "Yes, I'm fine," I replied, my tone as steady as I could manage despite the lingering traces of adrenaline still coursing through my veins. It was a feeble attempt to reassure her—and myself—that everything was under control, even though deep down, I knew that couldn't be further from the truth.
"But your face looks pale and your breathing is heavy," she said again, her voice laced with genuine concern.
I couldn't deny it—I could feel the telltale signs of distress creeping over me. My face felt clammy, my breathing ragged as if I'd just run a marathon. And when I glanced down, I noticed that my hands were slightly damp with sweat, proof of the anxiety coursing through my veins.
Before I could respond, Puriel leaned in closer. She searched my face for any signs of distress. "Did something happen to your tentacles?" she asked, her voice a mix of worry and curiosity.
I blinked in surprise at her sudden interest in my demonic appendages. It was strange, to say the least—this was the first time she'd ever expressed any concern about them. Sure, I knew she was worried about our plan failing if anyone discovered that we'd run away, but this seemed different somehow.
"No," I replied, shaking my head slightly to clear away the lingering traces of pain that still clung to me like a shroud. “I just... remembered something I shouldn't have," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
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