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

Chapter 36: Chapter 36: A Redundant Existence

Hearing this, Dominic Vance could not help but scoff: "Enough, stop pretending and spouting nonsense to me. Are others gossiping, or is it you who is gossiping? Miles, be a bit more obedient. I think you know the situation between us much better than I do. The engagement? That thing was never yours to begin with."

Dominic Vance was about to say something else, but he accidentally glanced toward the door of Lucien’s hospital room and saw that the person on the bed had woken up at some unknown time. The young man sat with his knees pulled to his chest, his thin hands intertwined, looking very much as though he had heard everything Miles had said.

Thus, Dominic Vance no longer wanted to argue with Miles Sinclair; he simply hung up the phone and pushed the door open to step into the room: "You heard it?"

Lucien looked up at the man, his face completely devoid of color, and only gave a slight nod, his voice exceptionally small: "I am sorry. It is my fault... I will not affect your reputation anymore."

To be honest, this demeanor of his always made people feel a stifling sense of frustration in their hearts. Or at least Dominic Vance felt that way, which made him even more agitated. Dominic Vance did not know what to call this feeling. He only felt as if something that originally belonged to him was slowly slipping away.

He was already used to a Lucien who clung tightly to him, using wet eyes to seduce him, and using a coquettish tone to beg for mercy. Naturally, that was merely how Dominic Vance perceived it himself.

But at the very least, this man had grown far too accustomed to Lucien’s subservient, fawning behavior. Now, the person who had once cowered before him was calmly uttering words that drew a clear boundary, severing all connections as if Dominic’s existence no longer held any shred of meaning in his life.

Dominic Vance stood frozen in place, his gaze firmly pinned to the frail figure curled up on the hospital bed. He stared at the young man for a long time, the pent-up frustration accumulating to the point where it felt as though it could reduce the entire room to ashes.

Finally, he spoke in a cold voice, each word hissed through his gritted teeth: "Do you just love making decisions for me like this?"

Lucien was momentarily taken aback, his dull eyes slowly looking up at him.

"Did I tell you to leave yet?" Dominic Vance took a step forward, the oppressive aura radiating from him making the air feel as if it were freezing solid: "Or is it that now, you do not even want to listen to the words I say anymore?"

He was angry. But the ridiculous thing was that Dominic Vance himself did not even understand what he was so angry about. Was it because Lucien dared to disobey him? Or was it because of the young man’s resigned attitude, his desire to push Dominic aside?

However, facing the man’s fury, Lucien did not show the slightest intense reaction. He did not talk back a single word, did not shed a single tear of grievance, nor did he even bother to use his pitiful ploys to appease Dominic.

He simply lowered his head obediently, so well-behaved that it only made one want to fly into a rage even more.

Dominic Vance tried to suppress the raging fire in his heart, asking a curt question: "What do you want to eat?"

"Anything is fine." Lucien replied, his tone flat and entirely devoid of emotion.

"Does it still hurt?"

"No pain."

"Later, after the doctor writes the prescription, I will take you back to the villa."

"Yes."

To tell the truth, Dominic Vance genuinely had to take two deep breaths to stop himself from going mad. Even though the man himself did not know what he could possibly do to the person in front of him even if he did lose his temper.

The current Lucien gave him the impression of a person who was completely hollow and had given up entirely.

No more needs, no more feelings, and no longer possessing any earnest desire to fight for anything whatsoever. Lucien, in this moment, was just like a stagnant pool of water; throwing a stone into it would not even cause the slightest ripple.

A faint sense of panic, like a tiny ant crawling along his spine, began to creep into Dominic Vance’s mind.

Meanwhile, at this time, 000 also appeared in Lucien’s mind.

[Host, your mental state is truly dropping down to a red alert level.]

Within his conscious space, Lucien only replied indifferently: "It does not matter. If I am to act, I must play the part to the very end."

[You are not acting, you are getting too absorbed into the role. Your brainwaves are assimilating with the original body’s memories of absolute despair. At this rate, you will not be able to break free.]

Lucien let out a faint, bitter laugh, a smile so full of sorrow that even 000 was forced into silence: "Or perhaps... this body has always been this desperately hopeless? Stripped of its family, robbed of its rightful place, beaten deaf in one ear... and now even the meager affection clinging onto this man has become a despicable, laughable joke. Immersed in the role or not, do you really think it still matters?"

"000, I am merely completing a mission. Both you and I need this issue resolved more than anything. Sooner or later, this body must die so that I can leave. Is there any difference between dying early or dying late?"

Silence engulfed the conscious space. Not even Lucien himself could clearly distinguish whether this numbness was something he deliberately fabricated to manipulate Dominic Vance, or if he was truly being dragged down to the very bottom of the abyss by the shattered emotions of Lucien Sinclair.

The door to the hospital room was suddenly pushed open, shattering the suffocating atmosphere. Dominic Vance’s assistant rushed in breathlessly, his forehead dotted with sweat. He glanced at Lucien sitting on the bed, then hurriedly leaned close to his boss’s ear and whispered.

"President Vance, the high society’s internal network is in an uproar. Someone leaked a photo of you carrying Young Master Sinclair... I mean, Young Master Lucien into the car the other day. Young Master Lucien’s condition at that time... um... looked a bit disheveled."

Dominic Vance frowned, snatching the phone from his assistant’s hand. Striking his eyes was a secretly snapped photo of him carrying Lucien in front of the villa. Lucien was wrapped in Dominic’s baggy coat, his hair a mess, his pale face resting closely against Dominic’s broad chest.

But what made Dominic Vance’s pupils contract was not the photo itself, but the bright red caption running beneath it: "Great drama from the Sinclair family: The eldest son shamelessly forces his way into his younger brother’s engagement. Yet another act of like mother, like son climbing into beds to seek higher status?"

Below it was a barrage of malicious, filthy comments. They openly called Lucien a vixen, a bed-climbing whore, and a shameless third party. Not a single person remembered the truth that Lucien’s mother was the legitimate, lawful wife, while the one currently being defended was actually the child of a mistress.

Dominic Vance’s face hardened, looking as though a violent storm was about to roll in.

"Do you need me to contact the public relations department to suppress the news, sir?" the assistant asked timidly.

Dominic Vance gripped the phone so tightly that blue veins popped out on his hand; he growled out: "Clean it up thoroughly."

He paused for a beat, his eyes cold as steel, and added another sentence: "Investigate and find out who leaked the news first. Whoever dares to open their mouth and utter one more word insulting him... then make them scram from this circle forever."

In truth, deep down in his heart, Dominic Vance already knew exactly who the mastermind behind this issue was.

Meanwhile, Lucien, who was sitting right beside him, heard everything, but he did not overreact; he merely lowered his gaze, concealing those lifeless eyes, and whispered softly: "There is no need."

That exact demeanor drove Dominic Vance even crazier: "You do not need to concern yourself with this matter!"

After finishing his instructions to the assistant, Dominic Vance went to collect the medicine and then led Lucien back to the villa. As the car rolled along, taking the two of them back to the luxurious estate, the atmosphere inside the vehicle remained painted in a gloomy hue.

Stepping into the living room, Lucien did not immediately head upstairs like he usually did. He stood there, right in the middle of the magnificent yet frigid space, casting his gaze around in a sweeping circle, as if he were carving every single detail into his mind only to erase it all forever.

A very long time later, he turned his head back, looking straight into Dominic Vance’s eyes, and suddenly spoke up: "Actually... I have thought about this very carefully."

Dominic Vance froze, his brows furrowing tightly.

Lucien curled his lips, tracing out a faint smile that was so deeply bitter it made one’s heart ache: "Perhaps, I should not be here anymore."

Dominic Vance’s expression immediately darkened, his voice dropping several degrees in temperature: "What do you mean?"

"With me being here... everyone feels awkward."

"Miles was right. I never should have existed between the two of you. Ever since I was born, my presence has always been a complete redundancy."

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