The System Keeps Making Me Do Indecent Missions [BL, R18]

Chapter 121: Chapter 121: Echoes in the Ink

Sometime long after Lucien Sinclair had departed from this world, Dominic Vance accidentally discovered a letter the youth had tucked inside a book. At first, Dominic was slightly surprised, assuming it was the same letter he had stumbled upon that one night.

However, it appeared not to be the case; it still began with the words "To Dominic Vance", but the contents were entirely different. Perhaps the young man truly harbored a deep fondness for writing those small, tender letters filled with whispered confessions.

Holding the letter, he stood frozen in silence for a long moment, yet ultimately, he still opened it.

"To my love, I hope that one day I will be able to call you my beloved husband.

I do not know whether you will ever have the chance to see this letter, nor do I know what the future holds. I only hope that by the time you see it, we are still by each other’s side..."

Dominic Vance quietly read through the entire letter, finding it remarkably similar to the previous one. It was merely a few tender, heartfelt words of a youth, carrying alongside them a touch of innocent dreaming about a future prospect.

"Childish."

He could not help but let out a mocking scoff, only to once again read the very letter he had just berated as childish.

"I truly love you so much."

"Thank you for trying, just once, to turn around and look toward me."

"Love you forever, Lucien."

They were clearly just hastily written words, the ink even looking slightly smudged, yet for some unknown reason, they caused a sharp pang to pierce through his heart. Dominic Vance irritably tossed the letter onto the surface of the desk, rubbing his temples, completely unable to articulate exactly what this frustrating, suppressed emotion within his chest was.

Outside, the rain began to fall once more. The sound of raindrops battering against the glass windows sounded distant, as if echoing back from an entirely different world.

Contemplating for a moment, he decided to invite his group of friends out for drinks again. He suddenly recalled their previous gathering, where they had made a promise to one another.

"I hope the next time we meet, you will have clearly understood your own heart."

How utterly wretched; before Dominic could even figure out what position Lucien genuinely occupied within his heart, the youth was already no longer by his side.

Dominic Vance arrived at the tavern where they frequently gathered.

Chris’s tavern was tucked away behind a small alleyway in the heart of the city, a place where neon lights could not reach and the deafening noise of the streets was completely blocked out by thick brick walls. This was the familiar hangout spot for wealthy young masters, those who possessed enough money to buy the entire world yet actively chose to sit in a dark corner, drinking expensive liquor and lamenting over the things that money could never buy.

Dominic Vance arrived first. He chose their old table in a secluded corner, a spot where he could observe the entire establishment without anyone noticing him. That was the ingrained habit of someone who had been trained to always maintain control over everything within his line of sight. Tonight, however, he had no desire to observe his surroundings. He simply sat there, his back leaning against the chair, his fingers idly swirling a glass of whiskey where the ice had almost entirely melted away.

The sentences from the letter continued to echo relentlessly inside his head.

"I hope that one day I will be able to call you my beloved husband."

"I do not know whether you will ever have the chance to see this letter..."

"I only hope that by the time you see it, we are still by each other’s side."

He closed his eyes, massaging his temples. That incredibly cheesy sentiment, that far-fetched and unrealistic dreaming, ought to have made him burst into contemptuous laughter. Yet why was it that those ink-smudged words continued to cling so stubbornly to his mind, much like an endlessly haunting melody?

The door of the tavern opened, pulling him back to harsh reality. Alex walked in first, followed by Ben, and finally Chris.

"Hey there, did the young master of the Vance family miss an appointment with someone again today? Why does your face look as though you just returned straight from hell?" Alex laughed loudly the moment he sat down, patting Dominic Vance on the shoulder. He remained exactly the same, always the first one to break the ice and lighten the atmosphere.

Taking a seat next to them, Ben swirled his own glass of liquor, his tone carrying its familiar sarcastic edge, "You actually have things weighing on your mind? I always thought you were the most heartless person among us all."

Dominic Vance did not reply; he merely lifted his glass, draining it in a single gulp before gesturing for the bartender to pour him another.

Chris, who had remained entirely silent up until now, sat down directly across from Dominic. He did not say a word, opting only to observe. It was the gaze of a friend who understood him far too well, a friend who had witnessed firsthand how he transitioned from a cold and emotionless man into an empty, soulless shell.

"Today, I accidentally found a letter from Lucien tucked inside a book on the shelf. Have I ever told you guys about the clingy little letters that he used to write all the time?"

The abrupt appearance of Lucien’s name caused his joking group of friends to freeze; aside from Chris, the other two were quite taken aback. Only Chris kept his eyes fixed in an unwavering stare upon Dominic Vance.

"The content of every single one is exactly the same." Dominic continued, his voice terrifyingly even, as if he were recounting a story that had absolutely nothing to do with him. "Just some incredibly cheesy, whispered confessions, dreaming about the distant future. Truly a naive kid; having been battered so harshly by life, yet still so stubbornly fond of dreaming."

As Dominic Vance spoke to this point, he suddenly let out a deeply sarcastic scoff. It was impossible to tell whether he was mocking that overly excessive naivety, or if he was simply mocking himself.

"And yet you read every last word of it, did you not?" Chris asked, his tone perfectly calm.

Dominic Vance fell silent.

"And yet you read it all, and you even remember every single sentence, every single word, and now you are sitting here drinking yourself into a stupor because of it." Chris pressed on, "You call him childish, but you yourself are even more childish. You love the guy, yet you do not even have the courage to admit it. It is not until he is already dead that you sit here clutching a few letters and torturing yourself."

"I do not love him." Dominic Vance blurted out. But his voice was incredibly weak, as though he himself could not even believe the words he had just spoken.

Ben set his liquor glass down, his tone sarcastic but completely devoid of its usual teasing nature, "You do not love him? Then why have you kept his room exactly as it was? Why did you place his portrait in your family’s ancestral hall? Why have you been drinking nonstop for months on end, looking like a man who has lost his damn soul? Do not give me that nonsense about this being a responsibility. Responsibility does not make a person destroy themselves the way you are doing."

Alex, the one who was always joking around on any normal day, was no longer smiling this time. He looked at Dominic Vance, his voice taking on an unusually serious weight, "I used to think that you were the luckiest bastard out of all of us. You had absolutely everything. But right now, I see that you are the most pathetic one. You had someone’s genuine love, but you did not know how to cherish it. Now that it is gone, you finally realize it, but it is too late."

"I know it is too late." Dominic Vance suddenly looked up, his voice cracking, "I know. I know that I have lost him. I know that I did not say it when I still had the chance. I know that I have been deceiving myself, constantly telling myself that he was just a tool, just a responsibility, just someone who accidentally appeared in my life. But..."

He abruptly stopped speaking, his hand gripping the liquor glass so tightly that his knuckles turned entirely white.

"But he was not."

His voice gradually trailed off into a whisper, as if he were only speaking to himself.

"He was not. He was the only one..."

He did not finish his sentence. However, everyone present in that room fully understood.

The only person who could make his heart flutter. The only person who made his body understand the meaning of yearning. The only person who made him, a man who had never once believed he was capable of loving, finally understand what love truly was.

And he had let that person slip away without ever letting the youth hear him speak the truth, not even once.

"The last time we met," Chris slowly spoke up, "I told you that I hoped the next time we saw each other, you would have clearly understood your own heart. Do you remember?"

Dominic Vance remembered.

That day had also been at this exact tavern, at this exact table. Chris had spoken those words right before leaving, even patting his shoulder with a gaze full of hidden meaning. At that time, Dominic had merely offered a faint smile, silently thinking to himself that there was absolutely nothing to understand, nothing to be concerned about.

"Now, do you finally understand?"

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