System Mission: Seduce the Final Boss [BL]

Chapter 166: They misunderstand me

’Now, what do I do...?’

Blake lowered his head.

The ropes around his wrists had already rubbed his skin raw from his earlier attempts to escape.

Not that it mattered anymore.

Of course he’d thought about escaping.

The thought had crossed his mind the instant he’d woken up.

Break the ropes, fight, run and hide.

’But...’

His shoulders slowly sagged.

’That would be useless.’

Nar knew who he was. His name, his school, where he lived, even about that evening with the stray cat.

Someone capable of finding all of that wasn’t someone Blake could simply disappear from.

Even if he escaped this room, he would kidnap him again.

Maybe not tomorrow or next week but, eventually, it was bound to happen.

There was no escaping someone who already knew your entire life.

Blake squeezed his eyes shut.

’From what it looks, he kidnapped me to question me. However, that can’t be the only reason.’

There had to be more.

Questioning alone wasn’t worth all this preparation. So, there had to be another purpose.

One much worse.

His breathing slowed as he forced himself to think.

’Let’s say I don’t say anything, then what? Would he just kill me?’

...

’No.’

Blake’s expression stiffened.

He suddenly understood.

For someone like Nar, he wasn’t just a hostage, but a bait.

A perfect piece of bait.

Someone connected to another second-generation, someone he thinks is valuable enough to lure out a rival.

Blake frowned.

’That could be it... if I’m useless, then you’ll use me until I’m not.’

His fingers curled against the ropes.

’He’ll torture me, and when someone comes... he’ll kill them too.’

The thought settled heavily inside him.

Even so... there was one thing Blake knew with certainty.

He wasn’t going to die here.

Not because Nar couldn’t kill him.

Because Blake refused to let things end that way.

Even if it meant enduring everything beforehand.

His jaw tightened.

’You’re not getting anything from me, fucking bastard.’

Silence filled the room once more.

Then another thought surfaced, one he’d been desperately avoiding.

Could Myles actually be lured here?

Blake let out a shaky breath.

Honestly, he had no idea how Nar intended to do it.

Maybe another hostage, maybe surveillance, maybe simply waiting.

Whatever the method, Nar seemed convinced that whatever he had in mind, it was going to work.

"..."

However, Blake wasn’t or, at least, not completely.

’That man... he is heavily overestimating my importance.’

Sure, Myles cared about him, that much Blake already knew.

He treated Blake differently than everyone else.

He listened to him, protected him, stayed beside him.

But...

Blake smiled bitterly.

’He isn’t in love with me.’

If he were, then everything would’ve already changed.

No love, no life.

The system’s condition would already have been fulfilled.

Instead, nothing had changed.

Myles still carried that impossible goal to destroy the world.

It still came first.

Blake squeezed his eyes shut until they hurt.

’And if Myles actually comes...’

His breathing hitched.

Then, everything would change.

To save Blake, Myles would have to reveal himself to Nar. Of course, the moment any second generation sees someone similar to them, they see a threat.

However, UD wasn’t relevant, nor to the media or AL-TECH, not to second generations.

’How can he even rescue me, anyway? He would have to kill everyone here to keep his actual strength a secret.’

Besides, that wasn’t exactly the only problem. There was an even more burdensome one. Myles would also have to expose himself to Blake, to someone who wasn’t included in his plan.

’Would he really do that? Would he trust me enough? Would he gamble years, maybe decades, of secrecy... for me?’

Blake didn’t know.

He honestly didn’t know, which made another sigh escape him.

Truthfully, the torture wasn’t what frightened him the most.

It would hurt obviously.

But... he had his defense buff.

As long as he activates it, the pain would be dulled so much more.

And once it ran out, he’d endure the rest.

His body trembled uncontrollably.

His teeth chattered.

Cold sweat soaked the back of his shirt.

Fear wasn’t something he could simply suppress.

But fear didn’t mean surrender.

’I won’t say anything.’

Yes, that was it, not a single word would come out of his mouth, no matter what.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook even fear.

His head slowly drooped, vision blurring.

Darkness crept in once more.

...

...

...

BANG!

"Mhfp!"

Blake’s eyes snapped open instantly.

His head jerked upward on instinct.

Then, he remembered Nar’s warning.

"If you dare turn your head..."

Immediately, Blake lowered it again, keeping his gaze fixed toward the floor.

He started to listen.

Those were heavy footsteps, definetly metal striking concrete.

Clank.

Clank.

Clank.

It was just one person, fortunately.

However, the footsteps sounded different. They were much lighter, unlike Nar’s.

The figure stopped directly in front of him, not even saying a word.

A gloved hand suddenly grabbed the back of Blake’s head.

"Ugh—!"

His neck was forced backward until he was staring at the ceiling, pain shooting through the muscles in his throat.

He couldn’t pull away, he couldn’t even look elsewhere.

Another hand undid the gag, the cloth sliding free.

Before Blake could even inhale, something cold poured into his mouth.

It tasted like water, at first, but then, he noticed that wasn’t the case.

As a result, Blake instinctively tried to spit it out, but couldn’t.

His head was held completely still, as such, the liquid flooded the back of his throat.

"Cough! Cough!"

He swallowed despite himself.

"Ghk—"

He had no choice, every drop went down.

Only once the container emptied did the person finally release him.

Blake immediately doubled over as far as the restraints allowed.

"Cough, cough..."

His throat burned.

"...What..."

The word barely escaped.

Then, something felt wrong, extremely wrong.

A strange warmth spread through his stomach.

It wasn’t painful.

Just wrong.

It slowly climbed into his chest.

His heartbeat became oddly noticeable.

His fingertips tingled.

The room seemed... sharper somehow.

The lights became brighter, while the air heavier.

His breathing changed without his permission.

Each inhale felt strangely thick.

His thoughts became sluggish.

Like they were trying to move through syrup.

"..."

His tongue felt numb.

Swallowing suddenly required effort.

He blinked several times.

The room briefly tilted, then steadied.

His pulse echoed loudly in his ears.

Not fast, it was just far too present.

Every sensation seemed amplified.

The ropes scratched, his bruises throbbed.

The chair felt impossibly hard beneath him.

"..."

A chair scraped across the floor.

The newcomer sat directly in front of him, one leg crossed casually over the other.

Unlike Nar this person’s mechanical suit looked lighter, probably designed to move faster.

Their voice came through another mechanical filter.

"We need to test your body first."

Blake looked at them silently.

"You never know, it isn’t uncommon for people like us to recruit ordinary humans. They’re trained and fight for the same goal."

The figure folded their hands together.

"There are many training systems, such as poison resistance, physical conditioning, weapon mastery, psychological adaptation, information warfare. Don’t worry, there are countless others."

Their masked head tilted slightly.

"However, as far as we’ve observed, you possess barely above-average musculature, no meaningful athletic history. Mind you, there were no weapons stored inside your residence, only useless toys."

They leaned forward.

"So, either you’ve undergone poison conditioning, in which case you’re assigned a strategic role rather than a combat one, which would made sense, considering your position as Anlorta’s bastard, who knows, maybe you’re a spy. Or—"

Blake suddenly lurched forward.

"Hrk—!"

His stomach twisted violently.

Without warning, he vomited onto the concrete floor, the bitter liquid splashing across his shoes.

He coughed uncontrollably, struggling to breathe between retches.

His entire body convulsed.

His vision blurred with tears.

"...Gh..."

The room spun.

The strange warmth inside him became nauseating.

His muscles felt simultaneously weak and rigid.

His pulse pounded against his temples.

The person in front of him didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch or even sound surprised.

They merely continued speaking over the sound of Blake being sick.

"...Or, as I can see now, you’ve simply been kept around folishly."

The room fell silent except for Blake’s ragged breathing.

The nausea was gone.

It had simply been replaced.

His entire body felt wrong.

His skin burned as though a fever had suddenly taken hold, yet cold sweat continued to drip down his temples.

His muscles trembled uncontrollably.

Every heartbeat echoed through his chest with uncomfortable force.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

His breathing had become uneven, each inhale feeling strangely unsatisfying.

His vision remained clear enough to see, but his thoughts no longer came together as neatly as before. They drifted apart, sluggish and difficult to grasp, only to crash back together a moment later.

"...Hah..."

His fingers twitched against the ropes.

He wanted to move, to curl up, to get away from whatever was happening inside his own body.

But there was nowhere to go.

The masked individual observed him for another few moments before slowly rising from the chair.

They let out a quiet sigh.

"If you truly were kept around as nothing more than a useless civilian..."

They paced slowly across the room.

"...then perhaps you don’t know very much, how annoying."

They stopped beside a metal table.

"Indeed, there is quite a lot of mess happening, there is no way you would be sane knowing all of it."

Their mechanical hand reached into a pocket.

When it emerged, a small white capsule rested between two metal fingers.

They held it up where Blake could clearly see it.

"If you begin speaking..."

The capsule rotated lazily between their fingertips.

"...I’ll give you this."

Blake’s eyes followed it despite himself.

"But only after you tell me the name of the person who accompanied you that night."

Blake swallowed with difficulty.

Even that simple motion felt strangely exhausting.

His head felt heavy.

His entire body shook.

Still, he forced himself to lift his chin.

His lips struggled to form the words.

"...You..."

His voice slurred, rough around the edges.

"...wish."

The words came out weakly, barely audible.

The masked individual stared for a second.

Then laughed.

"So stubborn."

They slipped the capsule back into their pocket.

"You know..."

Their head tilted slightly.

"There’s no point in protecting someone like the person standing behind you in that recording. They’re a piece of shit."

Click.

The monitor changed.

Another recording appeared.

Blake instinctively looked toward it.

It was nighttime, and the image quality was poor.

The footage still came from a low angle, again resembling the kitten’s point of view.

For several seconds, nothing happened.

Then the image jolted violently the moment a pair of familiar shoes came in sight.

The camera angle lurched.

There were rapid movements that were difficult to make out.

The recording abruptly ended.

"That cat died the same night you patted it so lovingly."

Their voice remained completely detached.

"Killed in cold blood."

Blake gulped.

’After I fell asleep, Myles went back out...? I didn’t hear a sound!’

"I see you look disgusted."

They gestured toward the frozen frame on the monitor.

"You should choose your company more carefully."

Their mechanical mask reflected the pale light from the screen.

"Associating with monsters has consequences."

Blake continued staring at the image.

’What a joke... who do they thing they’re trying to fool? It’s your fault he had to kill it. Probably they think I’m an idiot.’