Seven Sins System Chapter 411. Partial Amnesia

Seven Sins System Chapter 411. Partial Amnesia

"You know, I just said what was on my mind," I reiterated, my tone serious as I attempted to clarify my intentions.

"So do I," she shot back, her voice tinged with a hint of complaint. It was clear that she still viewed my words as an attack, despite my attempts to explain myself.

I let out a long huff, feeling frustration bubbling up inside me. I fixed her with a flat stare, hoping to convey the seriousness of my words. "You are mad at me," I reminded her, the words hanging between us like a heavy cloud.

"I…" She began to retort, but then she pressed her lips together and turned away, a telltale sign that my observation had struck a chord. Perhaps now she would see that my words were not meant to harm, but to provoke thought and introspection.

The tension between us eased. It was never my intention to upset her.

‘I'm sure that's enough to calm her down,’ I thought to myself, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. ‘At least she will choose not to be triggered by my words anymore.’

But as I reflected on the situation, a wave of embarrassment washed over me. Here I was, the lord of wrath, trying to diffuse a situation with a goddess. It was a far cry from the image I had cultivated for myself, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of shame.

‘Ha! Give me applause for it,’ I thought sarcastically, ‘since I just tainted my reputation.’

"The reason I said that was because I wanted to know why they chose you, and that was an honest question," I explained to her, my tone earnest as I tried to convey my sincerity. The seriousness of the situation weighed heavily on me, reflected in both my facial expression and the tone of my voice.

If we weren't knee-deep in this mission, I might've been more inclined to engage in some playful banter or even pick a fight with her. But given the gravity of our task and the stakes involved, I knew that frivolity was a luxury we couldn't afford.

Her response was a simple repetition of her earlier statement. "I don't know," she stated again, her voice tinged with frustration and uncertainty.

"Not at all?" I pressed, unwilling to let the matter drop just yet.

“No,” she confirmed, meeting my gaze head-on. "Do you know why they chose you?" she countered, turning the tables on me with a pointed question of her own.

"Because I was the one who wreaked havoc in the mortal realm the most," I declared without missing a beat. It was a half-truth, but one I couldn't help but cling to. I couldn't risk revealing the true reason behind my selection—the ancient demon lurking within me.

I knew that if I divulged the existence of the demon, it would paint a target on my back. The light realm would see me as a threat, and they would stop at nothing to eliminate me. It was a risk I couldn't afford to take, not when so much was at stake.

She paused, her brow furrowing in deep thought. This time, her expression was more serious, as if she was trying to piece together the puzzle of our past clashes. "Then I guess they chose me because I kept clashing with you in the past," she finally stated, her tone tinged with uncertainty.

I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her response, a hint of disbelief coloring my expression. "Are you sure about that?" I questioned, unable to conceal my skepticism. "I mean, yes, we've had our fair share of clashes in the past, but didn't you always use some kind of barrier to protect the mortals from our fights?" I reminded her, my tone bordering on annoyance as the memories flooded back.

"And you always made it at least ten kilometers," I added with a slight grimace, the frustration evident in my voice. "That was really annoying," I admitted, unable to suppress the irritation that bubbled up within me at the memory of her defensive maneuvers. “No one could see us fighting. No one saw you trying to kick my ass,” I continued

Her uncertainty was palpable as she confessed, "I am not sure. But I don't know what the answer is either."

I couldn't help but wonder if she, too, had experienced the same bouts of forgetfulness that had plagued me. Hoping to offer a subtle hint, I asked, "Or have you ever experienced memory loss or something like partial amnesia?"

Once the words left my lips, I couldn't shake the feeling of deja vu that washed over me. It was as if I was speaking not just to her, but to a reflection of myself.

She looked at me quizzically, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Partial amnesia? What do you mean?" she asked, clearly intrigued by my suggestion.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before responding. "I mean, like you forget something," I explained, hoping to clarify my meaning. "It's like... you might not even realize that you've forgotten it, but maybe there are gaps in your memory or moments where things just don't quite add up." I knew all too well the frustration of grappling with memories that seemed just out of reach, the nagging sense that there was something missing, something crucial that I couldn't quite grasp.

"Well, if you forget it, you might not know about it," I continued with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood. "But maybe you remember something that doesn't quite connect, like pieces of a puzzle that don't quite fit together."

Her frown deepened as she pondered my words, her brows knitting together in concentration. I watched her closely, waiting for her response, hoping that my suggestion had struck a chord with her.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally spoke up. "I don't think so," she stated, her voice tinged with uncertainty.