System Mission: Seduce the Final Boss [BL]-Chapter 42: Acting like a spoiled brat isn’t easy

"Guest, follow me down."

Blake let his gaze wander, smirking.

’I am actually feeling sorry for what I’m about to do...’

The guide had already started walking.

Blake lingered half a step behind, lips parting as if to speak, then closing again. What he was about to do felt absurdly cliché, something out of a cheap drama or a badly written novel. He almost scrapped the idea entirely.

But cliché didn’t mean ineffective, did it?

And if it failed... well, he had backups.

He sucked in a breath, forcing tension into his shoulders, letting it ripple through his posture.

"Sir—" His voice came out strained, uneven. "I think... I think I’m about to throw up. Where’s the nearest bathroom?"

The guide stopped so abruptly it was almost funny.

For a fraction of a second, his expression remained perfectly composed, the professional mask firmly in place. Then, as more seconds passed, it looked like his posture was getting tense.

Blake doubled over slightly, clutching his stomach.

"Euph!"

He gagged.

It wasn’t that natural, but he had practiced it enough to make it convincing.

The guide flinched.

"The, the nearest bathroom is over there!" he stammered, pointing down a side corridor with far less composure than before.

Blake didn’t waste time.

He staggered in that direction, one hand braced against the wall as if he needed it to stay upright. His steps were uneven, hurried in a way that sold urgency more than intention.

’Anyone would think I’m about to faint, rather than throw up...’

The bathroom door swung open under his grip.

Inside, everything gleamed just as much as the rest of the building, it was impressively clean, a bit too pristine.

’I would feel bad, being sick here...’

Blake dropped to his knees in front of the toilet anyway, leaning over it as if on the verge of losing everything he’d eaten.

Behind him, the guide hovered.

He made another weak gagging sound, shoulders jerking.

A few seconds passed.

Then a few minutes passed.

Nothing happened.

The guide shifted awkwardly. "Guest...?" he ventured.

Blake didn’t respond.

He let his breathing come out uneven, shallow, like he was trying to suppress something worse.

Another minute passed.

The guide’s initial panic began to fade, replaced by uncertainty, and then he simply started to look just a little uncaring.

"...Sir, if you’re feeling only nauseated, perhaps you should get up," he said, voice regaining a bit of its earlier firmness. "We should go down now, the tour is over, and time is—"

Blake tightened his grip on the edge of the toilet. Then, slowly, he lifted his head, the expression he put on was different now.

"Get up?!" he repeated, his voice suddenly like one of a true spoiled brat.

The guide blinked, caught off guard.

"I, I only meant—"

Blake turned fully, glaring.

"Do you have any idea how unwell I feel right now?" he snapped, pushing himself halfway upright but staying low enough to maintain the illusion. "And instead of showing concern, you’re rushing me?"

The guide’s posture stiffened. "That is not my intention..."

"Oh?" Blake cut him off, his tone rising just enough to sound entitled. "Because it certainly sounds like it."

Blake straightened a bit more now, letting irritation settle across his features.

"I’ll make sure my parents hear about this discourtesy. Or maybe, should I just speak to Sir Alfred myself?"

It was a gamble, of course.

Blake knew perfectly well his family, or Alfred Hicth, for that matter, wouldn’t give a damn. But people like this guide didn’t know that.

What they did know was status.

And consequences.

The effect was immediate.

The guide’s face drained of color.

"I, that was not my intention at all," he said quickly, voice tightening with anxiety. "Please, take all the time you need. I merely—"

Blake waved a hand dismissively.

"Just leave," he said, turning back toward the toilet as if the conversation bored him now. "I don’t need an audience."

The guide hesitated, as Blake didn’t look at him.

"I said leave,"

"Of course, sir."

Footsteps retreated, and the door closed.

Silence.

Blake remained still for a few seconds longer, just to be safe.

Then he exhaled.

The tension drained from his shoulders almost instantly.

’...That felt worse than expected,’ 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

He pushed himself up fully, sighing heavily. The entitled tone, the sharpness, the hollow threat, it all fell away.

For a moment, he just stood there.

Then he rubbed the back of his neck.

"...Sorry," he murmured, though the guide was long gone.

He hadn’t liked that.

Not the act itself, he could handle acting, but what it implied. The kind of person he’d just pretended to be wasn’t that uncommon to find. People who wielded status like a weapon, who expected the world to bend simply because they were born into the right family.

And for a brief moment, he had stepped into that role far too easily.

And this was all because of a mission.

More specifically, Myles.

Blake clicked his tongue softly.

’No point dwelling on it, they’ll all thank me later from preventing the world’s end.’

Truth was, this whole plan (along with the other backups), were planned last minute the day before, do they didn’t really make sense.

Inspecting a building like this properly wasn’t going to be quick. Not if he did it the normal way. Not if he stuck to the guided route, smiling politely while being shown only what they wanted him to see.

He needed time, and a little bit of luck.

He moved toward the door, pausing just before opening it. Carefully, he cracked it open and peeked out.

The corridor was empty.

’Good.’

Blake stepped out, closing the door quietly behind him.

For a brief second, he stood there, then he took a breath and activated his skill.

"I’ll sneak for my lover."

He moved quickly down the corridor and toward the stairwell, pushing the door open to avoid any unnecessary noise.

’I have to go up. Up!’

Step after step, his pace was fast but not too fast. He knew there was no point in rushing blindly. That would defeat the purpose of the mission.

By the time he stopped, he was near the upper levels, third to last, if his memory served him right.

He slowed as he approached the landing.

Something felt different, but he couldn’t place it immediately.

Then he realized, there was more noise.

Voices, more specifically.

Blake stilled. That, alone, was strange.

The lower floor was way more silent, ruined only by the hum of equipment and the occasional conversation.

He swallowed, suddenly aware of the risk.

Then he pushed the stairwell door open just enough to slip through.

The corridor beyond was unlike the others.

The lighting was softer. The walls weren’t lined with cold metal or reinforced panels but something closer to normal construction.

’Somehow this feels a little bit more... old style? Like at the mansion.’

The air didn’t carry that faint chemical scent he’d noticed earlier.

And the doors, some of them were open.

Blake stepped forward cautiously.

From one of the rooms, he heard laughter.

’Ah. Here I thought this place was just full of mad scientists or something.’

He leaned closer, glancing inside.

Those weren’t lab workers in sterile coats, not technicians hunched over equipment, but people sitting around a table, talking as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Their expressions were relaxed, their posture also casual.

They were probably having a nice, fun conversation, but he couldn’t tell.

Blake raised an eyebrow.

’This floor doesn’t feel like part of the same tower.’

Like a different world layered on top of the one below.

He moved on.

Another room, it was empty.

Another, also empty.

He checked them thoroughly, eyes scanning for anything out of place, anything that might hint at some secret passage.

But there was nothing resembling a gem or, at least, a small, round object that could fit there.

He continued down the corridor, the deeper he went, the stranger it felt.

’I mean, the main character probably got his powers here.’

Blake turned a corner, and a hand grabbed his shoulder, turning him around.

His body locked up instantly.

For a split second, instinct screamed at him to move, to twist free, to react, but something held him in place.

The presence was sure familiar.

Slowly, Blake turned his head.

The man stood there like he had always been there, like he had simply stepped out of the air itself. His posture was relaxed, but the tension beneath it was unmistakable.

And his gaze was cold.

Blake froze completely.

For the first time since stepping into the building, he had no act ready.

No plan.

Just the realization that he had been caught.