System Mission: Seduce the Final Boss [BL]-Chapter 51: Some sleep is needed...

Blake hit the floor of his room with a heavy thud, the impact ripping a sharp groan straight out of his chest as his body skidded slightly against the ground.

For a second, he didn’t move. He just stayed there, one arm curled slightly inward, the other pressed against the floor as if making sure it was real.

"...hah..."

A dry, disbelieving scoff escaped him, half-laugh, half-breath, completely drained.

His entire body pulsed with pain.

As he tried to get up, a deep, bruised ache settled into his muscles and his bones. The defense buff had done its job, it had kept him from breaking, from bleeding out, from collapsing back there, but it hadn’t spared him from feeling it.

Not even close.

Blake shifted slightly, immediately regretting it as a dull spike shot through his shoulder.

"Fuck..."

His eyes squeezed shut for a moment as he forced himself to breathe through it. The memory of the hits came back in flashes, the gunfire, the impact, the guard’s grip, the way his body had folded under that strike to the stomach.

And then, the insane running he had pulled off.

That annoying siren going off not one, but two times.

Those aggressive hands grabbing at him.

"...I actually got out of that whole mess, I’m simply impressive."

It didn’t feel real.

For a moment, he just sat there on the floor, staring ahead at nothing, trying to piece it together.

The underground facility.

The stone.

The way it had moved.

The way it had gone into the ring.

Blake exhaled slowly, running a hand down his face before finally forcing himself to move.

"Alright... alright, get up..."

He pushed himself up with visible effort, one hand bracing against the edge of his bed as he pulled himself onto it. The mattress dipped under his weight as he sat down heavily, shoulders slumping almost immediately.

For a second, he just sat there.

Then his hand moved to his face.

The mask.

He grabbed it and pulled it off, the material peeling away as his real features returned underneath.

"...finally..."

He tossed the mask aside without looking, letting it land somewhere off to the side of the bed. It didn’t matter where.

Nothing in that moment really did, except for the ring, of course.

Blake’s gaze dropped to his hand.

Ennora’s ring was finally complete.

He lifted it slightly, turning it in his fingers, pulling it one last time.

It had changed immediately and expanded, not in a weird way that made it look broken. The structure was more complex now, the surface lined with faint patterns that hadn’t been there before.

And the layout, it was fully open. It straight up looked like a hologram.

Blake frowned slightly, adjusting his grip as he focused on it.

"...so this is what it does now..."

Now he had what Myles was searching for, the blueprints. The hologram was detailed and clear to understand, from what he could see.

Far more than what he had expected.

For a brief moment, curiosity pushed through the exhaustion. His mind tried to latch onto it, to start making sense of the patterns, the possibilities, what it all meant... but his body shut that down almost immediately.

The fatigue hit him all at once, heavy and undeniable.

"...yeah, no..."

Blake let out a quiet breath, his shoulders sinking further as the weight of everything caught up to him. His muscles ached, his head felt foggy, and the adrenaline that had carried him this far was long gone.

"I’m not doing this right now..."

He leaned back slightly, still holding the ring loosely in his hand as his gaze lingered on it for just another second.

Tomorrow.

He’d figure it out tomorrow.

Right now, he could barely keep his eyes open.

With a tired motion, Blake let himself fall back onto the bed, the mattress dipping as his body finally gave in.

It was a relief... finally not having to stand, not having to run, not having to fight.

Just, he could rest without having to worry about this any longer. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

He stared up at the ceiling for a moment, his breathing slowly evening out, though the dull ache in his body refused to fade.

"Spoon..."

His voice was quieter now, certainly not as angry as before.

[ Yes, Dear Host. ]

"Give me the reward... from the spinning wheel..."

He didn’t even turn his head, his arm falling slightly to the side as the ring remained loosely held between his fingers.

"...please tell me it’s an S skill this time..."

[ Press here→ ⚫ ]

Blake’s eyes half-lidded, barely holding on as exhaustion pulled him under.

He raised his hand, pressing on it as if it was heavy.

"Please, make this one useful... I’m begging you..."

A faint pulse ran through the ring the moment his finger made contact.

For a second, nothing happened.

Then, a soft chime echoed in his head.

[ Reward obtained. ]

Blake didn’t react immediately. His eyes were already slipping shut, his grip loosening slightly.

"...what... did I get..."

[ Let’s Copy My Strong Lover! (C) ]

A long, very noticeable silence followed.

Blake’s eyes slowly opened again, just barely, a tired squint forming as if his brain was trying to process whether it had heard that correctly.

"...what...?"

Blake blinked once.

Twice.

Then his brow twitched.

"...you’re joking."

[ I do not joke, Dead Host. ]

"...you’re honestly insane, why didn’t that fucking skill activate earlier, huh?"

Blake stared at the ceiling.

"...you know what, I’ve got no time speaking with you, just combine them."

[ Yes, Dear Host. ]

[ Let’s Copy My Strong Lover! (B) ]

"Nice. Now, since we’re on the topic, why did the skill not activate, huh?"

[ Dear Host, you were not in a situation that required it. ]

Blake’s patience was hanging by a thread now.

Spoon, as usual, did not care.

He pushed himself up slightly, immediately regretting it as pain shot through his torso, but the annoyance overpowered it just enough.

"Are you serious right now...?"

His voice was low, strained, but very clearly pissed.

"I almost got killed down there."

[ Incorrect. ]

Blake froze for a second.

"...what?"

[ You were not in a life-threatening situation. ]

"Not in a..."

He let out a short, incredulous laugh, wincing immediately after.

"Did you not see what just happened?"

[ I observed everything. ]

"Then how the hell was that not life-threatening?"

[ You possessed an active defense buff. ]

Blake’s jaw tightened.

[ You also had sufficient mobility to escape. ]

"...barely."

[ Additionally, the primary pursuer relied on physical force rather than lethal execution methods. ]

Blake’s eye twitched.

[ Conclusion: The probability of death did not reach the activation threshold required for "Let’s Copy My Strong Lover! (C)". ]

"...so let me get this straight."

A slow inhale.

"I get beaten, shot at, chased, almost crushed, and somehow that’s still not enough?"

[ Correct. ]

"...because I wasn’t dying enough?"

[ Correct. ]

Blake let his head fall back against the mattress.

"...that’s stupid."

[ It is not. ]

"...no, it’s stupid."

Blake exhaled through his nose, long and tired. He just lay there, staring at the ceiling again, processing.

"...so it didn’t activate because I wasn’t close enough to dying and because I didn’t meet the emotional trigger..."

Blake’s breathing evened out completely, his body sinking deeper into the mattress as sleep finally took hold.

The weight of everything faded.

The pain dulled.

***

At first, it was nothing.

Just darkness, soft and quiet. He already had some kind of lucid dream before, although he couldn’t completely control it.

He found himself standing somewhere unfamiliar, though it didn’t feel threatening. The air was still, almost heavy, like the moment before something happens.

"...where..."

His voice echoed faintly, but no answer came, until he heard footsteps.

Blake turned.

And there he was, Myles.

Leaning casually against what looked like nothing and everything at once, like the space itself just decided to hold him there. His posture was relaxed, arms loosely crossed, gaze fixed directly on Blake.

Blake frowned slightly.

"...why do you always have to be in my brain."

Myles didn’t respond immediately.

He just pushed himself off whatever invisible support he had, stepping closer.

Blake didn’t move or step back.

He just stood there, eyes locked onto him.

"...this is a dream, stop now."

"Stop?"

His voice was as low and as calm as always.

Blake exhaled softly through his nose.

"...yeah."

Myles stopped right in front of him, a little bit too close.

Blake could feel it, the subtle pressure of his presence, the way it filled the space, the way it made everything else feel distant.

"...why do you look like that?" Myles asked, tilting his head slightly as his eyes scanned over Blake.

Blake scoffed quietly.

"Are you implying I look bad?"

Blake’s shoulders tensed, just slightly.

"No. You never did."

Myles hummed softly, like he already knew everything.

Like he had been there, watching.

Blake frowned slightly, his chest tightening in a way he didn’t quite understand.

"...don’t say it like that."

Myles didn’t answer.

Instead, his hand lifted.

Slowly.

Blake didn’t stop him.

Fingers brushed lightly against his jaw, tilting his head just enough to force eye contact again.

The touch was warm, too real for a dream.

Blake’s breath caught for just a second.

"...you rely too much on your luck with me," Myles murmured.

Blake swallowed, his voice coming out quieter than before.

"I don’t think I’m all that lucky, generally speaking."

"Mh."

His thumb brushed once, absentmindedly, along Blake’s cheek.

Why wasn’t he pulling away?