Seven Sins System Chapter 390. It Is What It Is

Seven Sins System Chapter 390. It Is What It Is

'I wonder if I'll see Red again at the dinner,' I mused with a huff, letting my thoughts wander for a moment. Truth be told, I wasn't expecting much. After all, our interactions had been few and far between, and I wasn't exactly holding my breath for a reunion. Still, there was a curious itch in the back of my mind, nagging at me to wonder about her current situation. Last I heard, she was knee-deep in some project, painting or something. And as for my summons? Well, I never did hear back from her after that initial attempt. Not that I expected her to try again.

Shaking off those thoughts, I refocused on the conversation at hand. But as much as I strained to eavesdrop, there wasn't anything particularly interesting to glean from their chatter. It was all just the same old mumbo jumbo, weird incantations and chants that sounded like they were plucked straight from a bad horror movie. Not demon talk, not mortal talk – just gibberish.

And then, a sudden realization hit me like a ton of bricks. It wasn't her boobs that were feeling bigger, it was... something else entirely. I felt a familiar sensation coursing through my body, my shaft starting to react to the close proximity of her figure.

'Oh no. Quick, think about something else!' I screamed at myself internally, desperately trying to divert my thoughts away from the increasingly inappropriate direction they were headed in. But it was like trying to stop a runaway train – futile and exhausting.

I frantically tried to divert my thoughts, anything to pull my mind away from the tantalizing distraction of Puriel's presence.

Internally, I muttered a string of curses, desperately grasping for something – anything – to occupy my mind. ‘Unfinished work,’ I muttered internally, my thoughts drifting to the countless documents and projects waiting for me back in the shadow realm. There were reports to review, plans to finalize, and the ever-present annoyance of dealing with the dark harpy who insisted on flitting around my domain like an irritating gnat.

And then there was the matter of my torture chamber, a project I'd been meaning to expand. It was getting cramped in there, and I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I needed to make some adjustments before it became completely unmanageable. But even as I mentally went over the details of the renovations, my mind kept drifting back to the present, the tantalizing presence of Puriel still lingering in the air like a siren's song.

Frustration welled up inside me as I struggled to maintain my focus. I desperately sought refuge in my own thoughts, determined to find some semblance of mental peace amidst the chaos. Mentally, I muttered about the trio of mortals – Darren, Barry, and Ion – whose antics never failed to provide a source of amusement and exasperation for me. ‘Think about those pathetic mortals,’ I thought bitterly, recalling the countless times I'd watched them bumble through their battles, their struggles both comical and frustrating to witness.

‘They can't even follow simple instructions half the time, always making a mess of things.’ It was a feeble attempt to coax my brain into focusing on something – anything – other than the tantalizing distraction of Puriel's presence.

But even as I tried to redirect my thoughts, I found myself increasingly unable to shake the persistent allure of her proximity. With a frustrated sigh, I turned to a tried-and-true method of distraction: counting. ‘Four times four is sixteen,’ I recited mentally, the words a mantra meant to drown out the tantalizing thoughts that threatened to consume me. ‘Twelve times three is thirty-six.’

But despite my best efforts, the numbers failed to provide the mental respite I so desperately sought. Trying as I might to focus on the mundane task of counting, my mind stubbornly returned to the image of Puriel's figure pressed against mine, her presence a constant and unwelcome distraction.

Frustration bubbled up inside me as I struggled to regain control of my thoughts, the relentless temptation of Puriel's proximity threatening to overwhelm me entirely. ‘Focus,’ I admonished myself internally, the word a silent command meant to reign in my wandering mind.

I grasped at straws in a desperate bid to redirect my thoughts. Mentally, I began to recite a nursery rhyme – "Baa, Baa, Black Sheep" – a simple tune I'd learned from Conny, Carl's son. With each verse, I hoped to drown out the incessant allure of Puriel's proximity.

‘Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool?’ I sang mentally, the words a soothing refrain meant to lull my mind into a state of calm. ‘Yes, sir, yes, sir, three bags full.’

But even as I recited the familiar lines, I found my efforts thwarted by the persistent twitching of my manhood, a relentless reminder of the temptation that lay just beyond my grasp. With a frustrated sigh, I pressed on, determined to persevere in the face of such overwhelming distraction.

‘One for the master, one for the dame,’ I continued, the words a whispered mantra meant to drown out the tantalizing thoughts that threatened to consume me. ‘And one for the little boy who lives down the lane.’

As much as I tried to distract myself with thoughts of anything but, the persistent twitching below my belt served as a relentless reminder of the tantalizing presence beside me. It was as if my body had a mind of its own, urging me to succumb to the temptation that lay just inches away.

With each subtle movement, my resolve weakened, the pleasant stimulation sending waves of desire coursing through my veins. It was a battle of wills, with my subconscious waging war against my better judgment, urging me to give in to the intoxicating allure of Puriel's proximity.

Inwardly, I cursed my infernal nature, knowing all too well the consequences of indulging in such base desires. Lust was one of my many sins, a temptation that I struggled to resist even in the best of times. And now, with Puriel so close, it seemed all but impossible to ignore the primal urges that threatened to consume me.

With a resigned sigh, I conceded defeat, my inner turmoil laid bare for no one but myself to see. ‘It is what it is,’ I muttered internally, a note of resignation coloring my thoughts. Despite my best efforts, I knew deep down that resistance was futile, that my body would betray me in the end.

And so, with a heavy heart and a begrudging acceptance of my fate, I braced myself for the inevitable, knowing full well that my desires would not be denied. If my shaft wanted to spring to life, then so be it. I would allow it to do so, if only to satisfy the insatiable craving that threatened to consume me whole.