System Mission: Seduce the Final Boss [BL]-Chapter 22: Am I luckier with seduction, after all?

"What happened?"

The question shouldn’t have been so difficult to answer, yet it tightened something in Blake’s chest more than the pain already there. It was such a simple question. Too simple for the way his heart was trembling.

"Ah... well, actually—" He coughed, the sound rough and shallow. The ache in his chest stole the air from his lungs, and his eyes welled up as he tried to keep speaking. "I think I’m dying. I was probably poisoned or something."

Silence followed.

Not the ordinary kind. The line went so still Blake wondered if the call had dropped. There wasn’t even the faint sound of breathing.

"You aren’t dying," Myles said at last, calm and immediate, as if the conclusion had already been reached long before Blake spoke.

Blake huffed a weak breath that might have been a laugh if he’d had the strength for it. Something strange curled in his chest at the certainty in Myles’s voice.

Was he... believing him?

"If you say so," Blake murmured. "How can you te—"

"Answer my question."

The interruption was sharp enough to make him blink.

"I was having lunch with my family," Blake said, trying to piece the memory together through the haze. "Then I left... and now my chest hurts like hell."

The more he spoke, the more his voice betrayed him. It wavered at the edges, thin and embarrassed, as if admitting weakness to Myles was somehow worse than the pain itself.

"Where are you?"

"Huh?" Blake wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "A room they lent me."

"Which floor?"

"Mmh... ha..." He tried to think past the pounding in his head. "The last one."

"The mansion is in the mountains?"

"Yeah."

Another pause.

Then Myles said, almost absently, "The smell must be nice."

"Smell?" Blake pushed himself upright. The trembling in his arms had eased a little. "There are so many flowers around here. You’d like them."

"Me?" Myles sounded faintly amused, at least from Blake’s perspective.

"Yeah. You stare at everything like it’s the first time you’re seeing it." He tipped his head back, eyes drifting toward the window. "You’d appreciate their beauty. I’m sure of it."

Outside, the wind moved softly through the fields, carrying the faint scent of blossoms through the open glass.

For a moment, Blake imagined Myles standing there instead of him, quiet and observant, taking everything in.

"Honestly... I wish you were here."

On the other end of the line, there was nothing but silence.

Only then did Blake realize what he’d just said. His stomach twisted in embarrassment, though, technically, it wasn’t really a mistake.

Not if his final goal stayed the same.

"Um, because it’s really boring here, and you know I really like you—"

"You’ve calmed down," Myles interrupted.

Blake blinked and looked down at his hands. The shaking had stopped.

"Oh... I didn’t even notice."

He decided not to ask how that had happened. Instead, he slid down the wall and lay back again, staring at the ceiling.

"What did you do today at school?" he asked.

"Nothing."

Blake laughed, covering his face. "I hope you didn’t betray me and sit with someone else at lunch."

"I didn’t."

He sighed, unsurprised.

"You should make some friends. Why don’t you try?"

Blake’s mind wandered. To save the world... could one person really be enough to change a villain? He doubted it. One hundred percent certainty seemed impossible.

Of course, Myles acted almost like he didn’t exist, so everyone assumed he was shy.

"I’ll try."

Blake chuckled, knowing he wouldn’t. "Okay. Okay. I should hang up now. Bye!"

"Bye."

As he rolled on the bed, he let out a heavy sigh.

Putting a hand on his chest, he started to steady his trembling breath.

He wasn’t dying.

Right?

But even if that were the case, wouldn’t Spoon act on it?

’Right, that useless system!’

Feeling his breath getting irregular again, he screamed.

"Spoon, for fuck’s sake, where the hell are you?!"

[ Here, Dear Host. ]

His eyes twitched as he flung a pillow at the screen.

"You’re so unbelievably useless. Why do you never answer when I need help?!"

[ Actually, Dear Host, there’s no need for you to call, since I observe you 24/7. I know when your life is on the line, and I act accordingly. ]

"Act accordingly, my ass! Even Myles sounded worried about me!"

The words left his mouth before he could stop them, and immediately he felt embarrassed. Still... it was a little reassuring. Was Myles finally starting to get comfortable around him?

Though his favorability hadn’t budged an inch. Eh, he couldn’t complain all the time.

Stretching and sitting up, Blake felt lighter.

"Spoon, take out the ring."

[ As you wish, Dear Host. ]

The small box floated into his hand, and Blake eyed the screen.

"Breaking it won’t work, right? Give me at least a clue."

[ Dear Host, destroying it isn’t the answer. But anyone could tell that much. ]

For some reason, Blake felt insulted.

"I understand, yes, but this thing has no reflection."

He’d tried every angle, every light, every temperature... nothing worked.

Those blueprints, they needed to come out somehow. Not a necessity, but now that Myles was starting to like him, Blake had to see what Myles had been seeing all his life.

"I can’t just seduce him without knowing anything..."

Turning the ring over in his fingers, he noticed a tiny cut on the inside of the shank, so small he might have missed it at first glance. That was interesting. Why would it be damaged like that?

’Maybe it has something to do with how it opens,’ he thought. ’But it’s too small. I can’t press it properly...’

He let out a quiet sigh and hesitated, weighing his options. Should he leave the room or stay?

’I need something small and sharp... a needle, maybe. But there’s nothing like that in here. Ugh. And I really don’t want to run into anyone.’

After that awkward conversation, if it could even be called a conversation, the last thing he wanted was to be watched or, worse, to bump into another member of the family.

Looking back at his room, he scanned the clutter, wondering what could possibly be small enough to work.

Then two button eyes stared back at him.

"Right!"

He dashed to the plushie and tugged the eyes out. They were tiny and smooth, and they kept slipping from his fingers. With a bit of effort, and a quiet snap, he finally managed to break them apart.

At last, it was ready.

He pressed one piece carefully against the cut. A strange, faint sound followed, and the gem suddenly shifted, along with the golden shank.

"Uh..."

But nothing really changed. Now it looked less like a ring and more like a broken bracelet.

And still... nothing could be seen.

Trying to shift it, there was no movement. As hard as steel.

"And here I thought it was getting somewhere."

Looking deeper at the inside of the shank, he noticed a weird pattern of symbols.

’Is this... a language or what?’

Trying to write down on paper, he didn’t really do a good job.

"Looks too wobbly..."

Turning it left and right, it started to resemble a weird drawing more, although that was probably because of the way he wrote it.

After all, he had to play detective.

"Agh, whatever! Spoon, take it back to that storage, I’m starting to get annoyed."

Going back to bed, he yawned. He had a whole afternoon ahead of him to rest from everything.

"As if..."

Or maybe, he wasn’t used to rest anymore.

"Love tracker!"

That nice, little red dot was somewhere familiar.

"Wait a second... that’s my house!"