Chapter 56: Pushed to the Edge of Control (1) - R18

Chapter 56: Chapter 56: Pushed to the Edge of Control (1) - R18

The atmosphere in the room grew markedly quieter. Following the man’s comforting words, Lucien himself had no idea how to respond. His mind was still in a state of turmoil, he needed a moment of silence to gradually regain his composure.

Lucien knew the body he had transmigrated into belonged to a tragic supporting character, but he had never expected it to be this miserable, tragic enough to evoke a profound sense of pity in anyone.

Meanwhile, Dominic Vance did not know what else to say either, the man was truly not one who knew how to coax others. Given his status, it had always been others fawning over him. The most pleasant words he ever spoke were likely just the customary pleasantries exchanged in the business world.

Thus, Dominic simply held Lucien quietly in his arms, gently stroking his tense back. The youth, meanwhile, obediently leaned into the man’s embrace, his eyelashes lowered, his eye sockets flushing red from having just cried.

After a long while, the man finally spoke up slowly, "Who was that blond guy?"

Lucien paused for a moment, blinking. In the original owner’s memories, the details were actually quite hazy. He could not clearly recall what the blond guy’s name was. However, based on their conversation during the clash, the two of them likely had a pre-existing feud.

"I don’t really remember either..." Lucien hesitated: "It happened so long ago, and I don’t want to recall it..."

At this point, Lucien’s shoulders trembled slightly: "I only remember that he, along with the rest of his group, were the school bullies. My school was an academy for the wealthy in the eastern part of our city. His family was considered well-off, and he specialized in bullying those with less power."

"Normally, he wouldn’t have dared to touch me, considering my status was right there..."

Lucien left the rest unsaid, but Dominic Vance understood the reason why. The man slowly pieced together what had happened based on the youth’s account as well as the things he already knew. The most obvious explanation was that after Lucien’s mother passed away, Miles Sinclair and his mother officially stepped into the Sinclair household. Afterward, the mother-and-son duo found a way to make Father Sinclair kick Lucien out of the family.

This was something known by people both inside and outside their social circle; although Lucien Sinclair continued attending school, he had entirely lost the power and backing of the Sinclair family. This made him a prime target for the school bullies.

It even involved the complicity of Miles Sinclair. Subsequently, Lucien got into a brawl with the school’s delinquents, which culminated in his right ear being stabbed with a knife, permanently depriving him of his hearing on that side.

Dominic Vance considered himself to have gathered enough information, and his expression turned incredibly grim. The man narrowed his eyes into a long slit, staring intently into the empty space ahead. He was not exactly furious; he just felt a deep sense of displeasure in his heart, wanting to do something to make the youth in his arms feel a little more comfortable.

Tonight was another night where Dominic Vance played the ascetic monk, choosing not to touch Lucien’s body any further.

Of course, "not touching" merely meant not pinning Lucien down and fucking him; Dominic still carried the youth to bed and showered him with kisses. It was just that the kisses were distinctly gentler, carrying an undeniable patience, as if there was nothing else to do for the rest of the night but leave his mark on every inch of his lover’s skin. Dominic Vance kissed Lucien’s forehead, which was still dotted with a trace of cold sweat. He kissed the corners of the youth’s eyes, still damp from the tears that had just fallen. He kissed the tip of his nose, his cheeks, and the corners of his lips.

"Rest assured, you are my person now; no one else will dare to touch you," the man’s husky voice sounded right beside Lucien’s ear, bearing a distinct promise.

Truthfully, Lucien really wanted to scoff and ask the man if he made such promises to all of his lovers. But then he realized—ah, besides himself, who else was qualified to bear this title?

What could be done? He was the only one capable of making this man ejaculate. What an impotent bastard.

[If the male lead hears that, you are definitely dead.]

Lucien was not very surprised when 000 suddenly spoke up; he merely replied nonchalantly in his mind, "How would he know, unless you sell me out? But if you dare to betray me, neither of us will end up with a good outcome."

000 fell silent. It had never seen a system as miserable as itself, constantly being scolded, cursed at, and threatened by its host.

"Hey, do you have any use other than digging holes for me to fall into?"

[When have I ever dug holes for you?]

"I find that your rewards only ever result in me being fucked by this man until I’m bedridden."

[You said it yourself, I am an R-18 route system, not a storyline route system. My function is simply to make you enjoy this mission.]

Thanks a lot. Do me a favor and fuck off, you useless thing!

After having a cursing match with his system, Lucien went back to pretending to be pitiful in front of Dominic Vance. The youth’s eyelashes kept fluttering, his reliance on the man’s embrace exceedingly obvious.

By this time, Dominic’s kisses had trailed down to his neck. The man kissed him while weaving his fingers through Lucien’s soft hair, gently massaging the nape of his neck with movements akin to coaxing a small kitten. And Lucien, due to the hateful side effects of that system, turned completely limp from just this single kiss.

This feeling of relying on the system made Lucien quite frustrated, as it occasionally messed with his rationality a little. However, he could not deny that it felt genuinely amazing, and he went along with it to let loose his desires. Hence, Lucien subconsciously grabbed Dominic Vance’s collar to pull him closer. He buried his face into the crook of the man’s neck, seeking warmth like a lost child who had found a guiding light.