System Mission: Seduce the Final Boss [BL]

Chapter 167: Your head is doomed, he says

The door creaked open.

Blake instinctively lifted his head.

A different person entered this time.

They wore the same heavy metallic suit as the others, this time a nice beige, completely concealing their identity.

Of course, they also said no useless words.

They walked straight toward him.

A piece of bread was shoved into Blake’s mouth.

"Mmph—"

He nearly choked, which made the person simply grab his jaw to keep him in place.

"Eat properly."

There wasn’t much choice.

Blake chewed with difficulty, his jaw still aching from the punches he’d received earlier. Every bite seemed to scrape against the inside of his mouth.

Once he swallowed the last mouthful, a bottle was tipped toward his lips.

Water flooded into his mouth, which made bim cough immediately.

"Ghk—!"

The person didn’t stop until they were satisfied he’d swallowed enough.

Only then did they let go.

Without another word, they turned around and walked out.

The heavy door shut once again.

"Cough, cough..."

Blake lowered his head, still trying to catch his breath.

How much time had passed?

He honestly wasn’t sure anymore.

There were no windows, no clocks, the lights never changed.

Meals came at irregular intervals.

Still, judging from how exhausted he felt, it had to be at least two days.

Maybe more.

At least, his blindfold and gag were gone now, that was... something.

"..."

A different problem had taken its place.

Blake shifted slightly in the chair before immediately regretting it.

"..."

He really needed to use the bathroom.

His face twitched.

’Seriously...? Well, it was bound to happen at some point.’

He glanced toward the closed door.

"Excuse me?"

His voice sounded hoarse, so he cleared his throat.

Keeping his tone as polite as he possibly could, he spoke a little louder.

"Could... someone accompany me to the bathroom?"

Silence.

"I..."

He forced an awkward smile despite knowing nobody could see it.

"I’d appreciate it."

However, there was no reply.

"Please?"

Silence answered once again, which made Blake let out a defeated sigh.

’G-great.’

Guess he’d just have to keep holding it.

He leaned back as much as the ropes allowed and stared at the endlessly looping recording on the monitor.

How many cameras were actually inside this room?

Apart from the monitor, there wasn’t any real source of light.

Most corners were swallowed by darkness.

He squinted.

’I mean, there, just above the monitor, there is a small surveillance camera directly pointed at me, so I know for a fact they did hear me but...’

A few minutes later, the door burst open.

Something metallic slid across the floor.

Clang.

A bucket.

It stopped directly in front of Blake.

"..."

"..."

He frowned, clearly uncomfortable.

"...Um?"

Another armored figure entered.

It wasn’t Nar or the person from yesterday, but someone else entirely.

Without saying a word, they crouched beside Blake.

The ropes around his wrists loosened.

Then fell away.

Blake slowly pulled his hands forward.

"..."

His breathing caught.

The skin around both wrists had been rubbed almost raw.

Layers of skin had peeled away.

Dried blood clung to the rope marks.

The fresh movement reopened several of them.

Pain shot through both arms.

"...Ah..."

His vision blurred.

Looking directly at the injuries somehow made them hurt even more.

His eyes stung.

’Jeez. Don’t cry, don’t cry over this.’

He swallowed hard.

The masked individual stepped aside, still silent.

Blake carefully stood.

Well, as carefully as someone with their ankles still tied to a chair could.

The chair scraped awkwardly across the concrete.

"..."

He turned toward the armored figure.

"Could you at least turn around?"

He glanced toward the obvious surveillance camera.

"There are cameras, I can’t exactly do anything."

The person stared at him, several seconds passing.

Then, without a word, they turned around.

Blake awkwardly managed his business using the bucket, every movement made clumsy by the chair still attached to his ankles.

It was humiliating, but better than the alternative.

Once he finished, the person turned back.

They removed the bucket.

Grabbed Blake’s wrists again. The ropes tightened far tighter than before.

The rough fibers bit directly into the damaged skin.

Blake winced.

"..."

The person left again.

Silence reclaimed the room.

Blake flexed his fingers carefully.

"..."

At least, one thing had become obvious.

These people weren’t intimidated by him in the slightest.

Yesterday’s conversation had confirmed it.

As far as they were concerned, Blake Ashford was nothing more than an ordinary civilian.

Weak, average and harmless.

Their guard had relaxed only slightly.

But slightly was enough of a tiny advantage.

Blake lowered his head.

His shoulders began trembling.

Small.

Uneven.

Almost like suppressed sobs.

A few moments later, the trembling turned into quiet hiccups.

If anyone happened to be watching, it would simply look like another frightened hostage nearing his limit.

"...Hic..."

Hidden beneath his lowered bangs, his lips barely moved.

"Love Tracker."

A translucent blue window appeared instantly before his eyes.

No one else could see it.

Blake stared downward, pretending to avoid the camera.

The familiar map unfolded.

A single glowing dot moved rapidly across it.

"..."

Myles was moving fast.

The dot disappeared, then instantly reappeared somewhere else.

’Alright, he is teleporting.’

Blake’s eyes widened.

"..."

That location just now, he recognized it.

One of Myles’ hidden bases, one Blake had once been tasked with finding for a mission.

’He noticed.’

His heartbeat quickened.

’He noticed I’m gone. But... what was he doing?’

The red dot vanished again.

***

"He must’ve spilled everything he knows about him, by now!"

Alexis’ frustrated voice echoed through the underground room.

"What is this mess even about?!"

"Oh my..."

Zlatan rubbed one of his temples.

"Lower your voice, it’s far too loud."

Alexis clicked his tongue.

"As if it matters."

Zlatan merely shrugged.

"Blake isn’t as weak as he looks."

Alexis rolled his eyes so hard it was almost theatrical.

"Oh, please, you’ve met him, what, three times? Four? And suddenly you’re an expert?"

"It doesn’t matter anymore."

Zlatan folded his arms.

"It is certain. He’ll now become involved in this matter."

Alexis huffed.

"Unless we kill him first—"

The room distorted, space folding.

Myles appeared without warning.

Alexis immediately stopped talking, so silence swallowed the room.

"The footage."

Myles asked.

Estelle turned toward one of the monitors.

"I checked every nearby camera."

She enlarged several recordings.

"But he disappeared immediately after walking past this point."

She pointed toward Blake’s figure approaching the apartment hallway.

"He was lured. Either by someone, or something, if you know what I mean."

Another screen appeared.

"The problem is, there aren’t any surveillance cameras covering this exact section."

The image froze where Blake casually walked into the blind spot. Then, he was gone.

Everyone unconsciously swallowed.

No one spoke.

Yesterday... Myles had been furious.

Every one of them had worked together for years.

They knew exactly what his anger looked like.

Perfectly still eyebrows.

A completely expressionless face.

Black eyes colder than empty space.

And his jaw clenched so tightly the veins along his neck became visible.

No shouting ot threats.

Just, terrifying silence.

Myles stared at the paused footage for another few seconds.

Then turned.

"Estelle, contact Tania."

"...Understood."

Space folded again.

He vanished.

Now he was in his bedroom.

The closet door slid open, and Myles stepped out.

Then, he stopped and didn’t move, didn’t even bother taking another step.

"..."

Blake had disappeared.

The thought echoed through his head again.

That strange feeling on the bus while he watched Blake walk away.

He’d felt it.

He’d ignored it.

"..."

Slowly, his gaze wandered around the room.

The notebook Blake insisted he keep.

A small keychain Blake had won from a vending machine that day, at the amusement park.

A mug Blake had bought because his house was too empty.

All the games he wouldn’t touch unless Blake was around.

Tiny things.

Meaningless things.

Yet somehow, they were everywhere.

"..."

He already knew what the others thought.

Risking everything for Blake wasn’t logical.

It endangered years of planning.

Their objective.

Their future.

He understood that.

More than anyone.

Which was precisely why, he should’ve been more careful.

His eyes narrowed.

Whoever had lured Blake, he hadn’t looked uncomfortable.

The footage replayed inside his mind.

The way Blake walked, it was relaxed and natural, he hadn’t hesitated, he hadn’t looked around nervously.

Whoever, or whatever, it had been, Blake had willingly approached.

"..."

Myles frowned.

’It isn’t AL-TECH.’

This wasn’t how they operated.

The neighborhood around Blake’s apartment lacked convenient underground access.

Abducting someone there would’ve been inefficient for them.

Too exposed and far too troublesome.

That left only one possibility.

’It is a second generation.’

Someone like himself.

And that someone had somehow realized Blake possessed a connection to another second generation.

His thoughts immediately returned to that evening.

That cat.

The one Blake had happily petted.

The one Myles had recognized for what it truly was immediately.

The one he had killed later that night.

At the end of it all, this had begun with his own carelessness, his own failure and own stupidity.

Once again.

Myles slowly lowered his gaze, his voice was chilling.

"I’ll have your head."