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

Chapter 146: Chapter 146: A Calculated Gamble

Lucien lowered his head, his fingers twisting together, his voice gradually trailing off as if he were trying to suppress something. "Therefore... I want to tell you this before things go too far. If I have to leave the company, at the very least, I will have said what I wanted to say. But if I am allowed to stay, then I will prove to you that my capabilities are worthy of remaining here. I just wanted you to know, that is all."

Damian sat in his chair, his hand still gripping Lucien’s arm, his gaze sharp and cold but by no means emotionless. He stared at Lucien for a long time, as if weighing every single word the young man had just spoken, and then he let go. He placed his hand on the armrest, his index finger tapping lightly in a steady rhythm, a habit whenever he was deep in thought that Lucien had noticed during their previous encounters. Damian did not speak immediately; there was only the steady sound of his tapping finger echoing in the quiet meeting room, blending with the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock.

"You say you like me," Damian spoke up. "Do you know who I am? Do you realize just how far apart my position and yours are?"

Lucien looked up, his eyes still slightly misty, yet his gaze did not waver in the slightest. "I know. But what does any of that have to do with the fact that I like you?"

Damian furrowed his brows, the tapping of his finger accelerating by a beat. "Are you not afraid I might think you are using this as a stepping stone to advance your career?"

"If I wanted to advance my career that way, I would have chosen an easier target," Lucien replied, the corners of his lips curling up slightly, not quite a smile, but more like self-deprecation. "You are the most difficult person to approach in this entire company; everyone knows that. If I had wanted to take a shortcut, I would have chosen someone else who was much easier to handle. But I chose you instead, because I genuinely like you."

Damian remained silent for another moment. Then, he stood up, walking over to the window and turning his back toward Lucien. Outside, the city lights had flickered on, and the brilliant illumination filtered through the glass, casting interwoven patches of light and shadow across his face. His back was impeccably straight and his shoulders broad, yet there was something in his posture that made Lucien feel the man was nowhere near as calm as he appeared on the outside.

"Do you know that I could fire you right this instant?" Damian asked, his voice seemingly carrying more tension than before. "All I need is a single excuse, such as harassing a superior, for instance."

Lucien let out a soft laugh, showing absolutely no signs of fear. "You will not do that. If you had truly intended to fire me, you would have done so the moment I asked that question. You would not have kissed me, nor would you have held me back when I tried to leave. And more importantly..." He paused for a moment, his gaze fixed directly on Damian’s back. "You are a man who values competence. I know you would never fire someone capable of creating a concept that you just praised."

Damian turned around, his sharp, icy gaze piercing straight into Lucien. "You are far too confident."

"I am not being confident. I am merely stating the facts," Lucien replied, then lowered his head, his voice growing softer. "And I am also just making a gamble. Gambling that you will give me a chance. At the very least, a chance to stay, to prove my worth and capabilities."

Damian stepped closer, standing right in front of Lucien and looking down at him from above. He said nothing, simply staring. Then, he let out a long exhale, as if he had just arrived at an incredibly difficult decision.

"Alright," he said, his voice having returned to its usual deep and cold cadence, though carrying a slightly softer undertone. "I will give you an opportunity. I will personally oversee the concept this time. If you do well, I will consider reinstating your position. But if you fail to perform..." He paused for a beat. "You will suffer the consequences."

Lucien looked up, his eyes shining brightly. "Really? Thank you, boss!"

"But there is one condition," Damian continued, his voice dropping an octave. "What happened tonight, and everything that occurred before this, will never be brought up again. Do you understand?"

Lucien blinked, then gave a slight nod. "Yes, I understand."

"Good." Damian turned away, picking up the document folder from the table. "Now, go home. Tomorrow, I want to see the revised concept draft on my desk before the meeting."

"Yes, I will have it finished promptly." Lucien bowed his head in greeting before stepping out of the meeting room.

The door clicked shut behind him. The corridor was pitch black, illuminated only by a few flickering lights. Lucien leaned his back against the wall, let out a long, heavy sigh, and then chuckled softly. He raised a hand to touch his lips, which still felt a bit tender from Damian’s bite. That man truly was difficult to please. Cold, rigid, and clearly already moved, yet still stubbornly trying to appear rational. But that was fine too; the more difficult it was, the more interesting it became.

[Mission accomplished!] 000’s voice rang out in his mind once again. [Fifty bonding points have been added. The physical sensation of being kissed has been unlocked. Congratulations, host!]

"Yeah, I know," Lucien said, pushing himself off the wall and heading toward the elevator. "By the way, did you see that? The man was clearly affected by your stats, yet he still tried his best to maintain control over himself. How truly fascinating."

[Fascinating how? I only saw him getting angry and irritable with you.]

"He was irritated because he lost control of himself, not because he was angry at me. That is the distinct difference." Lucien stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor. "A cold-hearted man like him actually lost control over a mere kiss, and then even held me back when I was about to leave. What do you think that is a sign of?"

[A sign of what?]

"Of a man desperately trying to fight against his own emotions. And the more one resists, the easier it is to fall in deep." Lucien smiled faintly.

Upon returning home, Lucien organized the pieces of information he had on hand. First, he prepared the file that he had initially intended to email to Damian, making minor adjustments to the contents he needed to send. Initially, because he had not planned to lay his cards on the table so soon, the email he drafted sounded a bit more artificially tearful and pitiful.

Things were different now. After that recent conversation, Lucien could clearly recognize that Damian was already standing on his side. In that case, he could afford to make things a bit firmer; being overly weeping and sentimental would only end up damaging his image.

Having finished everything, Lucien dusted off his hands, completed his personal hygiene routine, and climbed into bed.

"000," he called out softly into the darkness.

[Hmm?]

"How many more points do I need to complete the main mission of this world?"

[That depends on how the situation develops. But at this rate, I think it will be soon. Just keep going, do not worry.]

"I am not worried," Lucien replied, then closed his eyes. "I just want to know how much longer I have to stay here."

But 000’s answer did not come immediately. There was only the low humming of the air conditioner and the flapping sound of its wings somewhere in the air. He did not ask any further. Regardless, he guessed that this damn system had not even finished properly setting up its grading and mission systems yet.

It was rather amusing to think about. When other people transmigrated, they met fully functional systems with dedicated guidance and detailed instruction manuals. Meanwhile, he was stuck with this half-baked 000, which would sometimes disappear for no apparent reason, sometimes have its access rights hijacked by another personality, and had not even finished setting up a proper scoreboard. What utterly rotten luck.

But then again, at least when compared to those tyrannical systems that would ruthlessly shock their hosts with high-voltage electricity at the slightest failure to complete a mission on time, or strike them down with thunderbolts for merely straying from the world’s established settings, he found his 000 to be perfectly acceptable. He simply had to resign himself to this current reality; after all, it was an undeniable truth that the greater the degree of freedom one was granted, the less likely one was to have a proper guide leading the way.

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