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

Chapter 142: Chapter 142: An Unexpected Late Night Conversation

Lucien stood up, walked over to the pantry, and brewed two cups of coffee. His movements were practiced, without the slightest hesitation. One cup of black coffee with no sugar was for Damian; the remaining cup, to which he added a splash of milk, was for himself.

The bitter aroma of coffee filled the small pantry, blending into the quiet atmosphere of the late-night office. He deliberately took his time, brewing the coffee slightly slower than usual, timing it perfectly for the end of Damian’s meeting.

At around a quarter to nine, the door to meeting room number two opened. Damian stepped outside, carrying a thick stack of documents. He had taken off his tie, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his firm arms. His face showed traces of exhaustion after the long meeting, but his deep eyes remained as sharp as ever.

Seeing Lucien standing in the hallway, holding two steaming cups of coffee, Damian paused for a second.

"I saw that the lights in the meeting room were still on, so I guessed you were still working," Lucien spoke, extending a cup of coffee toward Damian. "Black coffee, no sugar."

Damian looked at the cup, then shifted his gaze back to Lucien. "You haven’t gone home yet?"

"No, I still have a few unfinished tasks. Besides, I am not in any particular rush tonight." Lucien offered a faint smile, pointing at the other cup in his hand. "I brewed a cup for myself as well. You wouldn’t mind if I sat here for a while, would you?"

Damian remained silent for a second, then nodded. He turned back into the meeting room, leaving the door open in a silent invitation for Lucien to enter.

Lucien followed him inside, placing Damian’s coffee on the table, right next to the documents. Then, he pulled out a chair and sat opposite Damian, his hands wrapped warmly around his own hot cup. The only distance between them was the width of the large conference table. The small room was so quiet that the ticking of the wall clock could be heard every second.

Damian took a sip of his coffee, then set the cup down. He looked at Lucien, his gaze thoughtful.

"You seem to stay late quite often," he said, his tone sounding more like an observation than a question.

"I find working in the evening is quieter and allows for better concentration," Lucien replied. "Furthermore, I have no reason to rush home."

Damian nodded subtly, then fell silent again. He flipped through a few pages of his documents, but it was clear his focus was not on them. Then, suddenly, he looked up, his deep eyes staring directly at Lucien.

"How long have you been with the company?"

Lucien blinked. This was the third time Damian had asked him this question, but this time, his voice lacked its usual polite detachment. There was a deeper tone to it, as if he genuinely wanted to know.

"I have been an intern for a few months now. But before that, I was a design assistant." He paused, then added, "I suppose you already knew that."

"I know," Damian replied, his voice low and steady. "I reviewed your file. You were a design assistant, almost promoted to Head Assistant, and then you were demoted to an intern. Correct?"

Lucien stayed quiet for a moment. He had not expected Damian to bring this up. Eventually, he nodded. "That is correct."

"Why didn’t you resign?" Damian continued, his tone carrying no judgment, just pure curiosity. "A person as capable as you, treated in such a manner, why do you still stay?"

Lucien looked down at the coffee in his hands. His fingers gently traced the rim of the cup, a habit whenever he was in deep thought. After a long while, he finally answered.

"I suppose it is because I do not want to give up." His voice was gentle, devoid of resentment or complaint. "If I quit my job, it would be no different from admitting I am incompetent. I want to stay to prove that what people say about me is wrong."

Damian did not speak, yet his gaze remained firmly fixed on Lucien.

"Moreover..." Lucien continued, "I like this job, I love design. Even though I am currently doing menial tasks like printing documents or brewing coffee, at the very least, I am close to what I am passionate about. As long as I have the opportunity, I will prove my worth."

Damian took another sip of his coffee, then set the cup down. He looked at Lucien for a long time, and then asked a question that made Lucien pause.

"Do you hate Ethan Lee?"

Lucien looked up at Damian. A brief flash of surprise crossed his eyes, but he quickly regained his usual composure. He pursed his lips, thought for a moment, and then shook his head.

"No. I do not hate him."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? He is the person who pushed you down to an internship. You don’t hate him?"

"To be honest..." Lucien paused, then carried on, his voice remaining placid. "I simply do not trust him. As for hatred, no. Hating someone consumes a lot of energy, and I do not want to waste my energy on things that are not worth it."

Damian fell silent; he stared at Lucien for a long time, his deep-set eyes trying to pierce through the calm exterior of Lucien. Beneath the warm yellow lights of the meeting room, Damian’s face was cast in shifting light and shadow. Then, he gave a faint nod, as if verifying a thought in his mind.

"You are different from what I thought," he stated, his voice deep and slow.

Lucien blinked. "What kind of person did you think I was?"

"I don’t know anymore," Damian replied, looking toward the window. Outside, the city had lit up, and the vibrant lights filtered through the glass, reflecting softly upon his features. "But you are definitely not what the others say about you."

Lucien did not respond. He looked down at the coffee cup in his hands, but a strange sensation rose in his chest. Damian had just admitted that he had looked into his background. He had heard the rumors—that he got into the company through connections, that he was incompetent, that he deserved to be demoted. Yet, Damian still chose to observe him personally and make his own assessment. And now, he was saying that Lucien was different from his initial assumptions.

This could be considered a big step forward, couldn’t it?

"Thank you," Lucien said softly.

"For what?"

"For giving me an opportunity." He lifted his head, looking straight into Damian’s eyes. "Not everyone in your position would stop to talk to an intern. I know that."

Damian did not reply, but the corners of his lips gave a slight twitch—an expression Lucien would have missed if he had not been paying close attention. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was no longer his usual coldness.

"I did not give you an opportunity," he stated, his voice maintaining its deep resonance. "You created the opportunity for yourself. I am merely the person who saw it."

He stood up, gathering his stack of documents. "It is late, go home. There is work tomorrow."

"Yes, I will be leaving right away." Lucien stood up, picking up his half-empty cup. Just before stepping out of the room, he paused for a second, turning back to look at Damian. "You should head home early too. Working too late is not good for your health."

Damian did not reply, offering only a slight nod. But as Lucien walked out of the room, he had the feeling that Damian’s gaze was still following him.

The hallway was engulfed in darkness, with only a few faint lights remaining. Lucien walked swiftly toward the elevator.

[Hey, you are truly impressive.] 000 appeared beside his ear once again, its voice filled with utter admiration. [I honestly thought you would take advantage of this opportunity to speak ill of Ethan, yet who would have expected that you would say you do not hate him at all. That was an incredibly brilliant move.]

"I am not employing any sort of trickery," Lucien replied, stepping into the elevator. "I am merely stating the truth. To be perfectly blunt, I really do not harbor that much hatred for Ethan; it makes no difference to me whether he is around or not. At the end of the day, my sole mission is to satisfy Damian and then take my leave."

[Are you absolutely certain that you do not hate him? Even after everything Ethan has done to you?]

"What good would hating him do?" Lucien asked, watching the elevator doors slide shut. "Harboring hatred is not going to make Ethan miraculously disappear from this company. I would much rather dedicate my precious time and energy to formulating a proper plan than dwell on such useless emotions."

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