Ultimate Spin System: Ero Spin?-Chapter 121 - Forgotten Sin

Lucas let out a long breath as he and Lena finally stepped into the familiar warmth of the inn. The scent of ale, roasted meat, and faint traces of damp wood greeted them, a comforting contrast to the unsettling encounter earlier.

"Home sweet home," Lena muttered, stretching her arms above her head before flopping into one of the chairs by the common room’s fireplace. "I think I’ve had enough cultists for a lifetime."

Lucas didn’t respond. His mind was still occupied with the eerie whisper that had slithered into his thoughts. Everything is balanced. I let you be, you let me be. The words lingered like a stain in his memory, sending an occasional chill down his spine.

"You’re doing that thing again," Lena said, eyeing him with amusement.

"What thing?"

"The thing where you go all broody and mysterious like you’re the protagonist of a tragic ballad."

Lucas sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I’m just tired."

"Sure, and I’m secretly a princess," she teased, propping her feet up on the chair beside her. "But hey, at least the pay was good. We should celebrate. How about a nice bottle of—"

"We should rest," Lucas interrupted, already heading toward the stairs. "Long day."

Lena groaned. "You’re no fun."

She didn’t push further, though, which Lucas appreciated. His mind was too cluttered to entertain her usual antics.

The wooden stairs creaked beneath his boots as he made his way to his room. Once inside, he locked the door behind him, dropped his bag on the floor, and collapsed onto the bed.

Finally.

A moment of peace.

No assassins. No cultists. No cryptic whispers in his head.

Just—

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

—[Welcome back, Dumbass.]—

Lucas groaned into his pillow.

"Not now."

—[Oh? Did I interrupt your deep introspective brooding? My apologies, Mr. Tragic Protagonist. Would you like me to dim the lights for dramatic effect?]—

"Seriously, shut up."

—[No can do. You’ve been quiet for too long. I was beginning to think you’d finally embraced your mundane existence.]—

Lucas rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "I don’t want a mundane existence."

—[Lies. You’re practically living a slice-of-life arc at this point. Escort missions? Friendly banter? A feisty rogue as your companion? Face it, you’re one cooking scene away from becoming the protagonist of a cozy adventure series.]—

Lucas shut his eyes. "I swear, if you don’t shut up—"

—[Or what? You’ll ignore me? Please. You need me, Lucas. If I weren’t here to remind you that something is seriously off, you’d happily fade into mediocrity.]—

Lucas stiffened.

It was rare for the system to drop the sarcasm. When it did, it usually meant something important.

"...What do you mean?" he asked, sitting up.

—[The Primordial Order doesn’t back down. Ever. Yet they saw you and left. That whisper in your head? Not normal. And now? Someone is watching you.]—

A cold sensation spread through Lucas’s chest. He scanned the room instinctively, but everything appeared normal.

"Who?"

—[If I had a face, I’d be grinning. That’s the right question. Someone within the guild suspects you. And not just anyone—someone important.]—

Lucas clenched his fists. "You’re guessing."

—[Am I? Then tell me—why did the merchant hesitate before paying you? Why did Sarah explain anything to you? Why did she—]—

Lucas frowned. "She?"

A pause.

Then:

—[...You’ll see soon enough.]—

Lucas exhaled sharply, pushing himself off the bed. "You’re cryptic as hell."

—[And you’re slow as hell. Hurry up, Lucas. Your ’slice-of-life’ arc is about to end.]—

With that, the system went silent.

Lucas stood there for a moment, his thoughts churning. If what the system said was true, then things were about to get a lot more complicated.

And he wasn’t sure he was ready for it.

But ready or not...

It was coming.

Lucas ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. The system’s words settled over him like a suffocating weight.

—[You’re getting too comfortable, Lucas.]—

He closed his eyes. "Not this again."

—[Yes, this again. You’ve got, what, twenty-something days left? And here you are, brooding over cultists and mysterious whispers like you actually belong here.]—

Lucas stiffened. The system didn’t bring up the countdown unless it was serious. He had almost forgotten—almost—that this world wasn’t permanent. That he and Lena weren’t supposed to stay.

"...Twenty days," he repeated under his breath.

—[Give or take. I don’t have an exact timer, but it’s soon. You should be winding things down, not getting tangled in whatever mess you just stepped into.]—

Lucas let out a humorless chuckle. "You think I want to be tangled up in this?"

—[Could’ve fooled me. You keep acting like some righteous protagonist, stepping into danger when you should be staying out of it.]—

Lucas sat back against the headboard, rubbing his temples. "I didn’t ask for the Primordial Order to show up. I didn’t ask for them to recognize me."

—[Maybe not. But let’s be real—if you keep poking at this mystery, it’s going to spiral. And you cannot afford to get involved. You’re leaving, Lucas. You and Lena. That’s a fact.]—

Lucas gritted his teeth. "And you think I don’t know that?"

—[Oh, I know you know. But you’re bad at acting like it. Every time you make a connection, take a job, or interfere with some grand prophecy, you make things harder for yourself. What happens when they expect you to stay?]—

He didn’t answer.

Because the system was right.

Twenty days. That wasn’t enough time to change anything. Not enough time to make a difference. Not enough time to leave a mark on this world.

So why was he acting like he belonged here?

"...I’m done," he muttered.

—[What?]—

"I’m done," Lucas repeated, more firmly this time. "No more side quests. No more mysteries. No more involvement." He sighed. "I just want to finish these last days in peace."

The system was silent for a long moment.

Then:

—[Good.]—

Lucas blinked. He had expected more sarcasm, more snide remarks. But the system sounded almost... relieved.

—[Then do yourself a favor and stick to it. You don’t want to end up like the last ones.]—

Lucas frowned. "Last ones?"

—[Never mind that. Just keep your head down and wait it out. No heroics. No attachments. No regrets.]—

Lucas closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.

Twenty days.

That was all he had left.

And for the first time, he realized—

He really didn’t want to get involved.

Lucas barely had time to let his thoughts settle before the system’s voice returned—this time, with a sharp, mocking edge.

—[Pfft—HAHAHAHAHAHA!]—

Lucas’s brow twitched. "...What now?"

—[Oh, Lucas, Lucas, Lucas. You really thought you could just walk away? That you could just ’finish these last days in peace’?]—

Lucas frowned. "That was the plan."

—[Well...]—the system paused for dramatic effect—[TOO LATE.]—

A sinking feeling settled in his gut. "...Explain."

—[You already messed up—way before you even considered staying out of trouble.]—

Lucas’s mind raced. He hadn’t done anything that—

Then, it hit him.

Beatrice.

His stomach twisted as memories of that night resurfaced. The warmth of her skin, the way she gasped his name, the illicit thrill of knowing she belonged to someone else and doing it anyway. It had been nothing more than a fleeting indulgence, a moment of passion he hadn’t given much thought to afterward.

Beatrice’s husband? Some knight. Not exactly ideal, but Lucas had assumed the guy was just another armored grunt. Someone unimportant.

The system’s laughter had a cruel edge to it now.

—[Oh, this is rich. You really thought her husband was just a ’knight’?]—

Lucas exhaled sharply. "Don’t tell me..."

—[Yep.]—

"...No."

—[*Oh, yes.]—

Lucas clenched his jaw. "How bad is it?"

—[Let’s see... you, an outsider, slept with the wife of a knight blessed by Solmara. One of the most devout warriors in Velmoria, chosen by the Goddess of Light herself?]—

A cold sweat ran down Lucas’s back.

No.

No way.

"...You’re lying."

—[I wish I was. But guess what? You defiled the wife of one of Solmara’s blessed knights. The man isn’t just a ’knight.’ He’s a holy warrior. A champion. A man whose faith is strong enough that Solmara herself acknowledged him.]—

Lucas’s mouth went dry.

—[And you—]—the system’s voice turned downright gleeful—[You just had to go and do something dirty with his wife. Do you know how that looks from a divine perspective?]—

Lucas swallowed. "It’s not like I knew."

—[Oh, yeah. Because ignorance totally makes it better. ’Oops, I accidentally committed one of the worst sins possible against a holy warrior of Solmara. My bad!’]—

Lucas buried his face in his hands.

What had he done?

—[And it gets even better!]—the system cackled. [Because if her husband finds out? Ohhh, Lucas, you’re dead. And if Solmara saw what you did? You might be cursed. Or worse.]—

Lucas felt his pulse hammer in his ears. "She wouldn’t—"

—[Wouldn’t what? Smite you? Curse you? Mark you for divine retribution? Oh, buddy, you do not understand how gods work. They don’t need to strike you down immediately. Sometimes, they wait. They let you suffer first.]—

Lucas exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to stay calm.

No point in panicking.

"...Alright," he muttered. "Worst case scenario?"

—[Worst case? You die screaming as a divine executioner hunts you down for violating a sacred union. Or you get publicly torn apart by her husband in a holy duel. Or Solmara just turns your life into a living hell with divine misfortune. Take your pick.]—

Lucas clenched his fists.