Seven Sins System

Chapter 358: Culinary Adventure of The Vampiric Kind

Seven Sins System Chapter 358. Culinary Adventure of The Vampiric Kind

Azrael's PoV

I let my head slump onto the desk, staring out the window at the dull, unchanging view outside. The room buzzed with the unfulfilled to-do lists and abandoned plans. My brain, ever the overachiever, kept chanting the same thing on loop, like some motivational mantra gone wrong.

"I need to be productive. I need to be productive. I need to be productive."

And yet... here I was, doing absolutely nothing.

What used to feel like the ultimate luxury—lazing around without a care—now gnawed at me with this weird, creeping guilt. Boredom wasn't just tapping me on the shoulder anymore; it was clawing at my brain, leaving scratch marks that wouldn't go away.

Maybe it wasn't just the boredom, though. Maybe it was this deep, nagging urge to go back—to the mansion, to my realm, to my life. The one where I could bend the laws of reality to my whims. This whole mortal charade? It started out as an extended vacation. But now? Now it felt like a trap. The longer I stayed here, pretending to be one of them, the more I felt like I might actually become one of them. And that? That was a fate worse than death.

I sighed, dragging my hand down my face. Stagnation was the real enemy here, slowly eating away at whatever gears kept my mind turning. Responsibilities loomed in the background, even in this borrowed human form, was slipping through my fingers.

The idea of going on a hunt briefly crossed my mind, tickling at the edges of my senses. But then the sun glaring through the window reminded me why that wasn't an option. Daylight and I weren't exactly best friends, and the last thing I needed was some nosy mortal catching me mid-extracurricular activity.

"I wonder when the cult will finally catch up to me," I muttered, half to myself, half to the empty room. There was a strange kind of thrill to it, like some messed-up game of cat and mouse. Only, in this game, the mouse would probably eat the cat if given the chance.

For a second, I entertained the idea of strolling around like some clueless idiot, baiting them into making a move. It had a certain appeal—lure them out, turn the tables, and call it a day.

Efficient and entertaining.

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But I wasn't about to underestimate their intelligence. No one dumb enough to chase a combat doctor holed up in a battle academy would've survived this long. They'd probably wait for me to leave the academy grounds before trying anything.

I groaned and let my forehead thump against the desk again. "Maybe I should ask Puriel to hang out in the infirmary," I mumbled, half-joking. The thought of willingly spending time with her? Absolutely ridiculous. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

The irony of it all hit me like a bad punchline. Me, considering chit-chatting with the goddess of chastity for some company? It was almost laughable. Still, I couldn't entirely dismiss the idea. Maybe she'd let something slip about her realm that I could file away for later. Besides, who knew? She might even be entertaining in her own self-righteous way.

A quiet knock and the creak of the door pulled me out of my thoughts. "Dr. Allen," came a familiar voice, soft but with that unmistakable edge of mischief.

I straightened up, plastering on a polite smile before swiveling in my chair to see who it was.

"Yeah?" I said casually.

Standing in the doorway was Penelope. She hadn't exactly been a frequent visitor lately—not since Theo's drama had escalated. Between her and Katrina, their drop-ins had become rare, and I'd kind of gotten used to the solitude. So, seeing her now was... unexpected.

She walked in with that signature saunter of hers. "Busy, are we?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I raised an eyebrow, leaning back in my chair. "Oh, yeah. Swamped. Can't you tell by my thriving desk nap routine?"

She smirked, pulling a piece of paper from her bag and handing it to me. I took it, recognizing it immediately as my updated schedule. Fantastic. More things to not look forward to. But before I could even skim through it, she dropped a little bombshell.

"This weekend," she said with a teasing glint in her eye, "you're coming over to our place. We'll cook dinner for you."

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Are you cooking dinner for me, or am I the dinner?" I asked, half-joking but also half-serious. With these twin vampires, I never really knew.

Her smirk widened, and she tilted her head, pretending to think. "We'll see," she said cryptically, the glint in her eyes bordering on dangerous.

"Comforting," I deadpanned, folding my arms. "If this ends with me as the main course, I'm going to be very disappointed."

She laughed, a light, melodic sound that only added to the mockery. "Relax, Dr. Allen. It's just dinner. No hidden agendas, no ulterior motives. Maybe a little garlic-free lasagna, some blood wine—you know, a culinary adventure of the vampiric kind."

"Define 'culinary adventure of the vampiric kind,'" I said, narrowing my eyes. "Because that sounds suspiciously like a euphemism for something I'm not going to enjoy."

Her grin turned wicked, and she leaned in slightly, as if to share a secret. "Let's just say... it'll be an experience you won't forget."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Well, if you manage to outdo my expectations, I might consider making this a regular occurrence," I replied, playing along with the banter.

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