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

Chapter 29: Chapter 29: Shattered Glass and Cold Rain

"I know you have always harboured resentment over the matter with Dominic." She sighed, her voice soft and placating: "Yes, this marriage arrangement originally belonged to you."

She paused for a beat, looking directly into his eyes: "But Miles likes Dominic more, and the two of them are a much better match. Your body has a defect, something the Vance family is not yet aware of. If they were to find out, how could they possibly feel at ease letting you marry into their family, and how could Dominic ever be happy by your side?"

Lucien knew the defect she was referring to was his deafness in one ear. To be entirely honest, Lucien simply wanted to let out a scoff. However, the lingering physical emotions of the original body caused his throat to feel slightly choked up.

Perhaps a fragment of the true owner’s memories still remained within this body, feeling suffocated and wronged by her words. It was blatantly obvious that everything had been caused by her son, yet now it was being twisted as if Lucien had been the one at fault from the very beginning.

"Save your breath!" Mr. Sinclair slammed his hand heavily against the armrest of the sofa, glaring at Lucien with a look of utter disgust, as if he were staring at a pile of repulsive garbage.

He pointed a finger directly at Lucien’s face and roared, "You are the older brother, would it kill you to yield to your younger brother?"

That sentence struck fiercely into Lucien’s brain. It was not merely the present injustice. It seemed to have pierced right into the darkest, most terrible hidden memory of the original host. From childhood all the way to adulthood, just how many times had that man uttered those exact words?

You are the older brother, would it kill you to yield your toys to him?

You are the older brother, would it kill you to yield the large bedroom to him?

You are the older brother, would it kill you to yield the position of heir to him?

And now, your fiancé, would it kill you to yield him as well?

Lucien bit down hard on his lower lip, the rims of his eyes turning so genuinely red that no acting was required.

Right at this moment, Miles spoke up. He stood up, taking a step forward as tears streamed continuously down his delicate face.

"Lucien..." Miles choked out, his top-tier hypocritical acting skills fully exploding: "If you truly like Dominic that much... I can step aside... I do not want our family to be torn apart because of me, nor do I want you to resort to such despicable actions on my account..."

What a magnificent performance, acting as if the one who had gone completely mad and cursed Lucien as a whore was not Miles at all. Lucien could not fathom why Mr. Sinclair had not yet taken Miles to a psychiatric evaluation. If he were to witness his own child displaying such wildly insane bipolar extremes, he would genuinely fear that the child was suffering from schizophrenia.

They were all members of the same household, so what was the need for putting on such a theatrical play when no one was even enjoying the performance?

Hearing this, the stepmother furrowed her brows, standing up to wrap an arm around Miles’s shoulders. She cast a sidelong glance at Lucien, her gaze inadvertently sweeping past the slightly dishevelled collar of his coat. Evidently, she very quickly noticed the fresh, starkly red marks imprinted upon her stepson’s collarbone.

Her eyes instantly flashed with the utmost contempt.

"Even if you wish to fight for him..." Her voice was icy cold, ringing out shrilly amidst the living room: "You should not use your body in such a manner. It is truly too filthy."

Lucien knew that they were intending to trample all over his self-esteem, treating him like a cheap, worthless commodity deliberately selling his body to vie for favour.

There was no one to speak up for him, no Dominic to shield him like in those brainless romance novels where the domineering CEO would appear right on time, kicking the door down to protect the main protagonist. Here, there was only the cruel, unforgiving reality, no one was protecting Lucien. They collectively besieged him, coerced him, placed the blame upon him, and weaponised morality to completely crush him.

"Have you not brought enough shame to this family?!" Mr. Sinclair stood up furiously, grabbing the ashtray on the table and hurling it forcefully against the floor. The sound of shattering glass was piercing to the ears: "Kneel down! Apologise to your younger brother this instant!"

Lucien kept his face lowered, secretly calculating in his mind. If he were to turn around and walk away right now, what were the chances of getting his legs broken? Or should he simply curse back at them... but presently, he was entirely isolated and without support, so how could he possibly protect himself?

Relying on Dominic was even more impossible. This person could only be considered a human-shaped tool for satisfaction and could not be trusted in the slightest.

So be it, he would just endure a bit of humiliation for now, and later on, he would force them to pay it all back in full.

Thus, under the contemptuous gazes of those three individuals, Lucien gritted his teeth and slowly bent his knees.

Thud.

Lucien had actually knelt down. Both of his knees struck the freezing cold floor, crashing into several shards of broken glass. A sharp pain transmitted through him, yet it was absolutely nothing compared to the suffocating grievance welling up within his heart.

Seeing Lucien kneel, a smug smile subtly appeared at the corners of Miles’s lips. He stepped forward, feigning panic as if wanting to help Lucien up: "Lucien, you must not do this..."

However, as he bent down, hidden from the line of sight of Mr. Sinclair and the stepmother, Miles leaned closely into Lucien’s ear, his clear voice instantly morphing into the venom of a viper: "What is mine, you will never be able to steal away."

He even deliberately pressed down on Lucien’s shoulders, forcing Lucien’s legs to grind heavily against the glass shards beneath. Crimson blood had already spread out, yet it seemed as though no one paid it any mind whatsoever.

Having achieved their objective, that group of people sequentially took their leave. Lucien used his hands to support himself against the floor, preparing to stand up. But because he had been kneeling for quite some time, with his knees still injured, coupled with a body that had already been thoroughly exhausted by Dominic beforehand, his mind suddenly became dizzy the moment he rose. His vision went completely dark, and losing his balance, he staggered and fell forward.

His head lightly struck the edge of the ironwood tea table.

Clack.

A dizzying wave of pain rushed over him, causing Lucien to nearly collapse onto the ground. Inside the living room, there was no longer anyone present, or perhaps someone was still standing in the corner, but Lucien could not observe his surroundings completely.

It was just that absolutely no one cared enough to catch him.

For some unknown reason, Lucien felt a deep sense of sorrow within his heart, perhaps silently weeping for the poor child who had once endured such bitter alienation. A moment later, he reluctantly forced himself back to his feet, and then slowly took step after step toward the outside.

A sharp, throbbing pain radiated from his knees, his blood soaking through his trousers and clinging wetly to his flesh. As for Lucien, he acted as if he could not feel a single thing, aimlessly walking out of the gates of the Sinclair family residence.

Outside, a heavy rain was pouring down, each freezing drop of water lashing against his face. Lucien did not hail a cab, he simply continued to wander aimlessly along the desolate street.

[Host.] The voice of System 000 rang out, breaking the dead silence of the night: [Are you alright?]

Lucien stopped beneath the dim, ethereal glow of a streetlamp. He raised his thumb, gently wiping away the trace of blood seeping from the corner of his lips, caused by accidentally biting down earlier. Watching the sparse stream of traffic tearing through the curtain of rain, the corners of his lips quirked upward slightly, forming a chilling, terrifying smile.

"I am quite alright."

His voice was incredibly light, seamlessly blending into the sound of the falling rain.

"The more they believe I have lost, arrogantly standing so high above... the more thoroughly they will understand the agonizing sensation of having their bones shattered and their flesh torn apart when they eventually fall."

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