Seven Sins System Chapter 377. Do I Need To Pay You For That?

Seven Sins System Chapter 377. Do I Need To Pay You For That?

My ears perked up at the strange sound echoing through the dimly lit cell. "Huh?" I muttered to myself, my gaze darting from side to side as I strained to pinpoint the source of the noise. It was unfamiliar, unsettling—a sharp contrast to the monotonous drone of my own thoughts.

Instinctively, I reached out with my senses, my awareness heightened by the sudden intrusion. Was it the scurrying of a small animal, perhaps a rat seeking refuge in the shadows? Or could it be the kidnappers?

A quick scan with my spy tentacles revealed nothing out of the ordinary—the kidnappers remained huddled together, their voices a jumble of indistinct murmurs. So if it wasn't them, then what was it?

‘A rat? Wind?’ I mused internally. Mice didn't sound like that, and besides, there was no breeze to speak of in this stagnant, oppressive atmosphere.

Turning to Puriel, I raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Did you hear that?" I asked, my voice low but tinged with a note of urgency. It was strange, unsettling, and I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than met the eye.

But instead of answering me, another voice answered me.

- Crutch--- Crutch--- Crutch

I blinked in surprise as the strange sound echoed through the cell once again, this time emanating from Puriel herself. It was unmistakably the sound of hunger—a low, rumbling growl that betrayed her body's desperate need for sustenance.

For a moment, neither of us spoke, the weight of the silence hanging heavy in the air.

I should've felt the familiar urge to tease her, to banter back and forth as we often did. But instead, an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. It was as if the memory of her sorrowful expression haunted me, a ghostly reminder of the pain I had caused her.

I remembered the way her eyes had clouded over when I pressed her and she denied her feelings for me, the hurt etched into every line of her face.

Clearing my throat, I made a conscious effort to rein in my usual snarky demeanor and instead opted for a more considerate approach. It felt strange, like I was stepping into uncharted territory, but I was determined to make amends for my past insensitivity.

"Hey, uh... I'm feeling kinda hungry. How about we grab some food?" I offered tentatively, trying my best to keep my tone gentle and non-confrontational. It was a stark departure from our usual dynamic of bickering and bantering, but I figured it was worth a shot.

I couldn't help but marvel at the novelty of the situation—me, being nice? It was a rare occurrence, to say the least. But something about Puriel's solemn expression tugged at my heartstrings, urging me to set aside my usual antics and extend an olive branch.

"I'll treat you," I continued, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I've got my wallet with me, so we're good to go." I paused, realizing the absurdity of the situation, not wanting her to think I was about to resort to cannibalism. Here I was, offering to buy food for the very person I had spent years antagonizing and taunting. It was a strange twist of fate, to say the least.

"I mean," I added hastily. "Those goons may have taken it, but I'll find a way to get it back." The words came out in a rush, a desperate attempt to reassure her—and perhaps myself—that I was still in control of the situation.

But even as I spoke, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over me like a suffocating blanket. My voice sounded foreign, even to my own ears, and the weight of my newfound vulnerability was almost suffocating.

I held my breath, half expecting Puriel to brush off my offer with a scoff or a sarcastic remark. After all, it wasn't every day that a devil decided to play nice without some ulterior motive lurking beneath the surface.

But to my surprise, she didn't dismiss me outright. Instead, there was a long moment of silence, punctuated only by the sound of our breathing echoing off the cold stone walls of the cell.

‘Yeah. Of course, she doesn't believe me,’ I thought bitterly, feeling a twinge of disappointment at her lack of trust. It was to be expected, I supposed—after all, demons weren't exactly known for their altruism.

But just when I had resigned myself to the silence, Puriel's voice cut through the stillness like a knife. "Do I need to pay you for that?" she asked, her tone low and hesitant.

I blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected question. "No," I replied quickly, my own voice tinged with uncertainty. It felt awkward, our usual roles reversed and turned on their heads.

"Do you want to eat specific food?" I ventured, attempting to break the awkward silence that hung between us like a heavy curtain. "As long as it's still in my budget, I can buy it," I added, hoping to ease some of the tension that lingered in the air.

Puriel's response was quiet, almost too quiet, as if she were afraid to speak too loudly for fear of shattering the fragile peace between us. "No. You choose," she said at last, her words barely more than a whisper.

"Okay. Give me a minute," I replied, grateful for the opportunity to break away from the suffocating weight of the conversation.

My four tentacles emerged from the tips of my fingers, their sinewy forms twisting and writhing in the dim light of the cell. With a flick of my wrist, one transformed into a sleek black cockroach, its wings buzzing softly as it took flight.

Without hesitation, the roach darted towards the CCTV camera mounted in the corner of the room, its tiny body blending seamlessly into the shadows as it approached its target. They maneuvered around the lens, effectively blocking its view and obscuring our actions from prying eyes.