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

Chapter 39: Chapter 39: Venomous Truth

Swearing was one thing, but faced with this soft little burden clinging to him like a limpet, Dominic Vance found himself completely unable to push Lucien away roughly.

He took a deep breath, trying to regulate his increasingly ragged breathing. A large hand reached out carefully, intending to pry off each of the small fingers that Lucien had wrapped tightly around Dominic’s waist.

But the moment he moved, the person in his arms immediately frowned. Lucien let out a soft whine of discomfort from the back of his throat. Driven by instinct, the young man’s small head rubbed harder against the firm chest, and those thin arms tightened their grip around Dominic’s narrow waist.

To someone who was holding back until it physically ached like Dominic, this unintentional, soft friction was nothing short of a lingering torture. The rigidness beneath his underwear throbbed violently, swelling even larger, veins bulging to the point of almost tearing through the fragile fabric.

Dominic clenched his jaw, a layer of cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. It took him a full, excruciating fifteen minutes, using more patience than he had exercised in his entire life combined, to gently coax and pat Lucien’s thin back until he successfully detached this little octopus from his body.

The second he was freed, Dominic practically flew into the bathroom, turning the shower to the coldest setting and letting the water cascade right over his head.

The bone-chilling water poured over his burning body, yet it was completely unable to extinguish the dark fire raging in his lower abdomen. Dominic’s mind was consumed entirely by the image of Lucien’s slightly parted, plump lips, the body covered in traces of their intimacy, and those tearful, wet eyes as the young man softly murmured about being in pain.

He panted, roughly messing up his own soaking hair, then reached down to grasp his aching length, closing his eyes to take care of it himself. How utterly ridiculous it was. There was someone lying right out there on his bed, completely obedient and willing to let him do whatever he wanted, yet in the end, he had to hide in here and jerk off like a hormonal teenager just because his heart ached for the boy.

Thirty minutes later, Dominic finally stepped out, carrying an aura of icy chill. He had changed into a fresh bathrobe, the sash tied loosely around his hips.

He walked over to the bed and switched the warm orange nightstand lamp to its lowest setting. The dim light cast a gentle glow on Lucien’s sleeping face. The fever seemed to have subsided a bit; the young man’s complexion had lost some of its terrifying pallor, and his breathing was much steadier.

To find a more comfortable position, Lucien had rolled onto his side, turning his back to Dominic. The soft hair that usually hid his ears had been pushed askew by rubbing against the pillow, completely exposing the nape of his neck and the area behind his right ear.

Out of habit, Dominic was about to reach out and smooth the hair for him, but the moment his fingertips grazed the shell of the ear, his movements froze.

Under the dim light, what struck Dominic’s eyes was not flawless white skin, but a long, jagged, and hideous scar that stretched from behind the ear all the way into the hairline.

This scar had a pale discoloration, clearly indicating it had been there for a very long time rather than being a recent injury. It did not look like a scrape from a fall. Its distorted, mangled shape proved it was created by a hard, blunt object delivering an incredibly vicious strike to the head.

Dominic’s pupils constricted violently. He knitted his sharp brows together tightly, and as if possessed, his rough thumb gently stroked against that uneven scar tissue.

"Ah!"

As if a reverse scale had been touched, the deeply slumbering Lucien suddenly jerked awake. He let out a panic-stricken scream, his body curling inward driven by pure survival instinct. He scrambled backward frantically until his back slammed hard against the headboard.

Those large, round eyes flew wide open, overflowing with absolute terror. Lucien gasped for air, his hands fiercely clutching the right side of his head, his entire body trembling like a fallen leaf in the autumn wind.

"Please do not... do not hit me... it hurts... please stop hitting me..." Lucien’s voice was choked and fragmented, completely submerged in the aftershocks of a psychological trauma.

Dominic stood frozen in place, his heart feeling as though it were being crushed by an invisible hand. He hurriedly took a step forward: "Lucien, calm down. It is me."

Hearing that familiar, deep voice, Lucien’s cloudy, unfocused gaze slowly regained a shred of clarity. He looked at the tall man before him, then at his surroundings. The moment he realized what he had just done, Lucien’s face instantly drained of color. He hastily dropped his hands, frantically pulling his hair to hide his right ear.

"I... I am sorry... I had a nightmare... did I startle you?" Lucien kept his head bowed low, his voice barely a whisper, filled with a fawning carefulness as if terrified of angering the man.

But seeing this pathetic cowering right now only caused the nameless fire of rage in Dominic’s chest to flare up even more fiercely.

"Take your hand away." He commanded in a dark tone.

Lucien bit his lip, shaking his head frantically, his fingers gripping the edge of the blanket even tighter.

"I said, take your hand away." Losing his patience, Dominic reached out and grabbed the young man’s bony wrist, pulling Lucien’s hand away from the side of his face without exerting the slightest effort.

His gaze was as sharp as a dagger, locking ruthlessly onto that ugly scar, before shifting back to observe Lucien’s panicked, evasive demeanor. A horrifying thought flashed through his mind.

Dominic released Lucien’s hand and deliberately stepped to the right side of the boy, lowering his voice: "You cannot hear my voice, can you?"

Lucien froze. His lips trembled, and after a long time, he gave a weak reply, his eyes still refusing to look directly at the man: "It is just... I cannot hear very clearly, that is all. It is nothing serious."

"Nothing serious? You are deaf in one ear and you call it nothing serious?!" Dominic unconsciously raised his voice. Indignation caused the veins on his forehead to stand out. He closed the distance, his hand gripping Lucien’s chin tightly, forcing the young man to look up and meet his eyes: "Where did this scar come from? Answer me!"

"I took a bad fall..." Lucien squeezed his eyes shut, physiological tears spilling over his lashes.

"Do you think I am a fool?" Dominic ground his teeth, his thumb aggressively swiping over the welt behind the ear. Only an injury caused by a heavy club or a blunt instrument smashing into the head leaves a scar like this: "Who did this? Lucien Sinclair, I am asking you, who did this?!"

Lucien’s tears fell slowly onto the back of Dominic’s hand. He cried without a sound, only emitting broken, choked sobs that shattered in his throat. Reaching out with both hands, Lucien tremblingly grasped the man’s sleeve, using the most humble, desperate tone to beg: "I am begging you... Dominic, please do not ask anymore, okay? If you make a big deal out of this... Miles will be furious. He will complain to father again... father will throw me out... I do not want to go back to those slums... I beg you..."

"Miles?" Dominic’s pupils contracted sharply. He released Lucien’s chin, taking a half-step back: "Miles Sinclair ordered people to beat you? Beating you until you were deaf in one ear?!"

Only then did Lucien seem to realize his terrible slip of the tongue. He clamped his hands over his mouth in terror, shaking his head madly, tears streaming down his face: "No! No, it is not! I was just spouting nonsense! Please do not go looking for him. Miles did not mean it, I was just an eyesore to him... Dominic, please pretend you never heard anything, I beg you!"

Even as he spoke, Lucien tried to scramble out of bed to drop to his knees and beg. But Dominic reacted in time, pressing down hard on his shoulders and preventing Lucien from moving.

Watching Lucien cry to the point of breathless gasps, his entire body convulsing with the sheer terror of facing retaliation from his own half-brother, Dominic felt as though someone had twisted his stomach into knots. He was overcome with extreme nausea and profound disgust.

He was not disgusted by Lucien, but rather utterly repulsed by himself, and completely disgusted by that rotten Sinclair family.

Miles Sinclair, the legitimized bastard son, always maintained a facade of pure, untainted nobility. Acting like the perfect obedient youth, he only needed to crook a finger to summon a horde of eager defenders. Yet, lurking beneath that pristine mask was the vicious heart of a viper. Miles ruthlessly weaponized school bullying to utterly destroy the life of Lucien Sinclair.

Then there was Mr. Sinclair, a father so blinded by extreme favoritism that he callously stood by and watched. He allowed the mistress’s child to beat his legitimate son until Lucien became deaf in one ear, only to ruthlessly throw the battered boy out of the house!

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!