Chapter 32

If Asher knew what Sebastian was thinking, he probably wouldn't want to be friends with him again.

Unfortunately, he didn't know, so his mind was filled with nothing but wanting to treat Sebastian well.

At five o'clock the next morning, Asher got out of bed without a single minute of procrastination. He washed up meticulously, combing his occasionally wild black hair into a neat, compliant layout, changed into a black shirt with silver buttons and tailored black trousers, and swapped his sneakers for formal black leather shoes.

He looked exactly like a proper adult.

By five-thirty, he was already waiting downstairs next to the black private car, holding a bouquet of perfectly blooming white lisianthuses.

The early autumn morning mist lingered tenderly around him, landing on the lisianthus petals and his pitch-black eyelashes, turning into soft dew.

The exact fraction of a second Sebastian opened the door, his eyes locked onto Asher, while the canopy of the sky remained an exceptionally deep blue.

He was also wearing the exact same black shirt and trousers, except he held a bouquet of white daisies in his hand.

Pacing slowly to the front of Asher's frame, his voice dropped low and gentle: "If you're fatigued, head back to sleep for a bit, otherwise if your waking temper explodes again, I won't be able to coax you easily."

Asher refrained from delivering an answer, merely conducting a thorough evaluation of his frame before extending a hand to adjust his collar. "You look pretty freaking handsome wearing black, matching my own standards by a hair's breadth."

Sebastian’s skin was a cold, pale hue that sat distinct from ordinary Easterners, and his refined, sculpted features were a fraction thin, weaving a natural coldness across his brows and eyes. Contrasted against the absolute black, the intense visual impact forced this coldness to turn remarkably concentrated.

A slight tilt of his head, paired with a low, deep, gentle voice, intensely birthed a cold allure that was entirely distinct from his usual casual detachment.

Perfectly mimicking a certain breed of nobility navigating through the dark night.

Asher reflected inappropriately that, tracing along Sebastian’s looks, aura, and that unyielding, gentle warmth that left a person completely stripped of a temper, if he established an absolute determination to seduce a human being, there shouldn't be a single soul he failed to ensnare.

Except he concluded his own thoughts crossed the line of absolute inappropriateness at this juncture, opening the car door directly: "Let's launch our departure early; do not keep Uncle Wen waiting for our frames."

The black vehicle cruised slowly from the metropolitan area toward the suburban public cemetery. The thin mist refused to scatter from start to finish, the cool air hitting the freezing glass window to coat it in a shallow frost, attempting to partition the narrow cabin cleanly away from this sorrowful early autumn.

Yet the moment the car ground to a halt, the丟 youths strictly still had to march straight into that crisp, lonely autumn morning.

Two bouquets of white flowers, paired alongside two black-clothed youths, amounted to the absolute total commemoration for that gentle, courageous Omega, twelve full years after his passing.

And the husband he adored intensely during his lifetime lacked even the spare buffer of time to return to cast a single glance over his frame.

A bouquet of white daisies represented a son's bone-deep remembrance toward his frame.

A bouquet of white lisianthuses served as a praise toward his flawless existence.

A single line of text was sculpted simply across the tombstone: "When I am born, I desire to love this universe. When I pass away, I desire the universe to cease loving my frame. — Mr. Wen."

The silhouette captured across that black-and-white photograph looked exceptionally soft, beautiful, and handsome, his smile perfectly serene.

Sebastian shared zero trace of resemblance alongside him.

Sebastian mirrored his Alpha father far more—tracking from features to aura, alongside that prominent arrogance typical of an absolute genius, everything cut from the exact same cloth. This was likely the definitive reason why, even with that man being this freezing and detached, Sebastian’s Omega dad consistently preserved an unyielding infatuation.

Asher felt a trace of sorrow, concluding his own frame should step away to preserve an expanse of private buffer for Sebastian and his dad. Sebastian, however, snared his wrist with a sharp grip: "Accompany my frame for a bit; I am entirely averse to being alone."

This was the very first instance Sebastian disclosed to Asher that he was averse to being alone, requiring his existence.

That battle of words last night turned out to be a fraction useful after all.

Asher felt a sliver of satisfaction: "Flawless."

The two stood in absolute silence for an exceptionally long while, a pale white ray of light faintly breaking across the horizon, when Asher abruptly opened his mouth: "Sebastian, do you possess the awareness that you actually fail to mirror your father? You mirror Mr. Wen far more."

Sebastian tilted his head sideways to look at his frame.

Throughout eighteen years of existence, this counted as the absolute first instance a human being delivered this line.

Staring at the photograph resting on the tombstone, Asher pulled an absolute, certain smile: "Genuinely, your core system mirrors Mr. Wen far more. Therefore, I conclude your choice to master medicine turns out exceptionally upstanding, and you'll look staggeringly handsome draped in a white lab coat too. So why the hell don't you request Mr. Wen to bless your frame, ensuring you secure admission into the medical school of the top national university?"

Sebastian let out a soft chuckle. "If securing admission into a top university necessitates a blessing layout from my dad, I estimate my dad would completely discard any pride in possessing a son like myself."

"Do you possess the awareness that delivering a line like that outside the perimeter will get your frame beaten up?"

"Don't you deem the reality aligns exactly in that manner?"

"Tracing along that line, it indeed holds absolute truth. But have you genuinely never requested a single blessing from your dad?"

"I have."

"What?"

"Refraining from disclosing it to your frame."

"If you refuse to voice it, then forget it."

That heavy wave of sorrow scattered cleanly alongside the thin mist the exact fraction of a second the morning sun rose past the horizon.

Staring at the photograph captured on the tombstone, Sebastian's core felt soft and perfectly serene, a helpless trace of amusement seeping out from his narrow eyes.

Dad, look at him. He is consistently capable of goading a wave of joy into my system; I completely lack the capacity to refrain from loving his existence. Therefore, can I trouble your frame to deliver a slice of blessing over my system—blessing my capacity to make him fall in love alongside me? Once the love initiates, let it lock for an entire existence.

As a gentle breeze brushed past, the flower bouquets wobbled twice, serving as an absolute consent to the request.

By the time the two departed from the cemetery, the clock already read eight, and returning to the campus meant they had long surpassed the tardy baseline by eight hundred years.

Since they were already late anyway, there was zero rush.

As fate would have it, Asher completely lacked any desire to march into campus draped in this tailored layout to flaunt his presence, let alone letting Sebastian march into campus to flaunt his presence. Letting out a lazy yawn: "Possess a desire to skip school?"

Sebastian slanted a glance over his frame.

Then, pacing over to the driver who was waiting outside the perimeter of the cemetery, he spoke in a low voice: "Uncle Zhang, apologies for the trouble of making your frame wait for so long. The two of us are temporarily refraining from returning. Trouble your frame to deliver a line to Aunt Tang on our behalf—disclosing that Sebastian and Asher calculate to skip school today."

Uncle Zhang: "..."

Oblivious as his system was, he lacked an alternative for a brief moment regarding whether to feel astonished that a human being could state a school-skipping command with this much absolute, boisterous righteousness, or to praise Sebastian for preserving this level of politeness even while skipping school.

But he also maintained an upstanding comprehension regarding the family's raising methodology, delivering a few instructions before granting his absolute consent, returning to report the layout to the boss.

The remaining two individuals lazily sauntered along the roadway without a single designated target. Sauntering along the path, they unexpectedly sauntered straight onto Mount Ling'an sitting right next to the cemetery.

The Dajue Temple resting atop Mount Ling'an was the most celebrated temple across Southaven, holding a prominent name even tracking across the entire southern region.

Principal of all, that specific wishing tree was celebrated for its absolute accuracy.

Asher held absolute zero conviction across this front, yet Aunt Tang believed in it.

Aunt Tang asserted that while gods and buddhas completely failed to exist across the universe, if a human frame firmly anchored their core belief onto a matter, the wish would definitively materialize.

Whether his own core belief was firmly anchored or otherwise, Asher lacked a proper clarity, but he possessed the absolute awareness that the young girl selling the crimson wishing cloths anchored her core belief to an extreme threshold.

Entangling their frames from the mountainside all the way to the absolute peak, entangling to a threshold where Asher truly failed to handle the friction further, spending fifty bucks to purchase two loose segments of crimson cloth.

Holding the ugly piece of crimson cloth Asher stuffed into his hand, Sebastian couldn't resist a low scoff: "I completely lacked the awareness that the technology of the Pure Land had already accelerated to a threshold capable of deploying QR code scanning? Has your frame encountered a premature decline, hitting the milestone necessitating a payment for the stupidity tax?"

Asher put on a completely freezing face: "Zero alternative. My burning desire to see your system transform into an absolute mute is this immense, to the point where I am driven to swallow whatever food rests right before my face."

The two parted along a thoroughly ruined note, separating toward the east and west axes by a distance of ten thousand miles.

Holding that hideous segment of crimson cloth, Sebastian evaluated it for a brief moment, before abruptly reflecting that it wasn't completely out of the question for his own system to swallow this food once. Tracking down a pen, he initiated a meticulous writing command across the cloth.

Completing the text, he paced to the perimeter of the wishing tree, searching back and forth, only to discover not a single branch possessed the qualifications to support his wish.

Turning his head around, his eyes caught sight of Asher at the far opposite end of the wishing platform. He had completely refrained from writing a single syllable, merely squinting next to a vendor stall, engaging in a dialogue alongside an old monk.

With his back directed toward him, his expressions were completely hidden from view, and the items resting on the vendor stall remained invisible. Only that broken piece of crimson cloth had been discarded right beside his foot, completely abandoned and ignored.

Sebastian let out an abrupt smile. He had unexpectedly and genuinely counted on the reality that Asher purchased these two broken pieces of crimson cloth because he desperately desired to help him establish a wish on this specific special milestone day.

His own thoughts had drifted too far off target.

He merely lacked clarity regarding what exact item this young master—who lacked an awareness of common hardships—was being swindled into purchasing now. If he mirrored Aunt Tang, spending eight grand to purchase a string of wooden beads, he strictly had to consider exactly whose frame would assume absolute control over the household financial authority in the future.

Rolling the crimson cloth into a tight, neat cylinder, Sebastian stuffed it inside his trousers pocket, pacing toward Asher's frame.

Except the exact fraction of a second he arrived, Asher appeared to have successfully wrapped up a certain transaction alongside the old monk. Catching sight of his frame, he packed the item inside his trousers pocket with total composure.

Sebastian’s eyes squinted slightly.

Asher stood fully upright, patted his trousers, his face unflinching: "Purchased for Eugene. He is highly fond of these superstitious, cryptic little toys. Elliot delivered a line that offended his frame last once, asking my system exactly how to execute an upstanding apology layout."

Slinging a casual line to divert the topic along the way: "Did your wishing cloth complete its text?"

"Do I look like an individual who would execute a task of that nature to your frame?" While delivering his words, Sebastian utilized his fingers to press the crimson cloth deeper inside his trousers pocket, thoroughly terrified of it exposing a single trace outside.

Asher curled his lip: "Your entire existence proceeds along a trajectory that is far too rational and biting. Can you find it within your system to be a fraction romantic, a fraction emotional?"

Sebastian utilized the tip of his shoe to nudge that piece of crimson cloth boasting a value of twenty-five bucks resting against the earth, raising an eyebrow toward Asher: "Addressing my frame?"

Asher: "...In truth, living out an existence, a person strictly still shouldn't be too superstitious."

Yet the hand stuffed inside his trousers pocket gently encircled that superstitious little toy regardless.

There was no telling whether Aunt Tang’s assertion—sincerity yields absolute materialization—was authentic or otherwise.

Neither individual harbored an intense interest toward Buddhism, and both of their systems were packed with their own nagging secrets. Casually touring a few loops, they descended the mountain while clutching their own mini-secrets deep inside their trousers pockets. They refrained from pushing the boundary too far, returning home to consume a midday meal, catching an afternoon nap, changing their clothes, before honestly marching back to campus.

The exact fraction of a second they stepped inside the classroom in the afternoon, Mason’s group executed a relentless cycle of winking and signaling toward Asher. Given Asher remained trapped within a wave of fatigue, he failed to receive the signal for a long while, dropping his frame straight onto his seat to initiate a nap.

Lacking the capacity to handle the friction further, Sebastian slapped his pen flat against the desk: "Whatever text you children calculate to deliver to Asher behind my back can be dispatched directly across a private WeChat dialogue line. There is zero necessity to abuse those faces of yours that already look a fraction pitiful."

"..."

Eugene: "Wow! Boss Seb! You unexpectedly unleashed a sentence of this length toward our frames! Do you possess the awareness that since our acquaintance hit this milestone, this counts as the absolute first instance you actively delivered a line outmatching ten syllables to my frame! I have essentially appreciated a status matching the threshold of Ash's layout!"

Sebastian: "..."

Catching this dialogue, Asher discarded any desire to sleep further, propping his head to look toward Sebastian, launching a lazy, mocking text line: "Therefore, I desperately want to request your frame to stop targeting my system alone in the future. Disperse your capability for goading tantrums onto their frames too, distributing your favors uniformly across the board—otherwise others will definitively assume your system suffers from a facial nerve paralysis pairing alongside absolute muteness."

The exact fraction of a second his mocking text completed, the phone screen resting inside his desk cavity illuminated.

Caleb had engineered a group chat layout, barking out loud while pulling the lines: "Aside from Boss Seb, I have successfully pulled every single individual inside the perimeter, children check it out quickly."

Sebastian: "..."

Delivering a wave of verbal blows behind another individual's back—there was truly zero necessity to make a massive display of this nature.

Evaluating Sebastian's flat, deadpan expression, Asher found it thoroughly amusing. He couldn't resist cockily waving his phone screen right right before Sebastian’s face a few instances, his lips hooked into a smile that was exceptionally provocative: "I already disclosed the line to you—behave like a proper human being on regular days, otherwise how on earth could you tumble into this current state of absolute isolation?"

Finishing his line, he snared his phone back, wanting to evaluate what exact trash drama this pack of absolute idiot partners was calculating to execute now.

Chubby Mushroom: [According to the first-hand data layout snared by this Class Representative, Sunday marks Boss Seb's eighteenth adulthood birthday milestone. Are the brothers launching a definitive round! Assisting Boss Seb to execute a transition from a young boy into an authentic, proper man!]

Caleb: [If we are assembling funds to track down a companion, I can advance a hundred bucks.]

Cute Little Milo: [I can serve as that companion, free of charge.]

Elliot: [?]

60% Off Fortune Telling: [My system is far from being unavailable either.]

Asher: [What exactly are you all tracking here?]

Cute Little Milo: [Tracking looks, tracking satisfaction, tracking absolute comfort. Sexy little Milo, available online with free shipping.]

【Cute Little Milo was sharply removed from the group chat.】

Elliot: [Flawless, let's continue. Speaking with total seriousness, I personally evaluate that Sebastian completely won't fancy a boisterous birthday assembly of this nature. Stop fumbling with groundless thoughts, let Asher handle the arrangement strictly as he deems fit.]

Chubby Mushroom: [How on earth could that suffice? Meeting for a meal and pacing to a KTV to sing songs counts as the absolute tradition our pack has preserved across so many years, alright? Since Boss Seb counts as a member of our unit, he strictly must comply alongside this tradition! Furthermore, my gift layout is already completely prepared.]

Caleb: [Exactly! Even if the birthday date features alternative arrangements, turning inconvenient to complete the task alongside our frames, advancing the timeline by a single day to execute a team meal and sing a few songs to get hyped should be completely fine, right?]

Eugene: [I have also prepared a gift... although it lacks a massive price value, I spent an exceptionally long span of time crafting its layout.]

Elliot: [Ash, initiate an interrogation to ask Sebastian whether he willingly consents to step out to execute a team assembly on Saturday. If he consents, our pack will execute a preparation layout; if he refuses, deliver the gifts to your palm, and your frame will advance the transfer on our behalf.]

Asher tapped the screen, calculating for a brief fraction of a second before exiting the group chat layout, selecting the profile titled 【Sallow Luck Predator】 to rapidly dispatch a line:

[Tomorrow, Mason’s group desperately wants to execute a team meal and sing a few songs together. Are you stepping inside the track? The timeline is far from being arranged for Sunday; it’s tomorrow. Just treat it like a casual, regular assembly alongside friends.]

[I possess absolute clarity that you are entirely averse to vibrant crowds, but far from every single human being is cut from the exact same cloth as an ungrateful snake. Although this pack of absolute idiots suffers from a sallow brain foundation across the board, their core character is passable enough, and they genuinely treat your frame as a member of their unit. Therefore, I desperately want to reflect on whether you can stop putting on that arrogant front constantly—descending from your heavens to sample a trace of human life, is that acceptable?]

[Evaluate the choice on your own, my system won't advance a single line of persuasion anyway. In any case, it holds zero connection to my frame.]

Tracking immediately behind were several screenshots.

[Look at this, they are all breaking their brains worrying over your transition from a young boy into a proper man. Even Eugene has crafted a gift layout for your frame; do you possess the face to fracture their hearts?]

One WeChat line after another, proceeding without a single fraction of a pause.

The tone was thoroughly explosive, the vocabulary sharp and unyielding, laced with an intense wave of friction and absolute mock-disgust.

Yet Sebastian preserved a trace of a smile across his lips, replying with zero hesitation: [Flawless.]

Sebastian possessed absolute clarity: Asher was also entirely averse to social assemblies of this nature. The definitive reason why he engineered a team block was purely driven by a desire to share his own friends alongside his frame.

Exactly mirroring their childhood—every single once, the little Asher would stealthily conceal his absolute favorite toys inside a colossal container, before huffing and puffing to haul that container straight inside the little Sebastian's room.

Simply meaning: whatever items my own system deems upstanding, I desperately want to share them with your frame across a single go.

The cognitive track engineered into a paramecium sat exactly along this clumsy, completely direct line.

Yet turning out this intensely endearing.

The corners of Sebastian's lips curved upward, unable to resist dispatching a supplementary line: [But regarding that transition from a young boy into a proper man, tell them to completely cease their worrying. Serving as my absolute best brother, shouldn't my adulthood ceremony layout be fully managed by your hands alone?]

Asher: ?

He picked up a sensation for a second time that Sebastian had executed a calculated scheme, yet he strictly still remained stripped of a single shred of evidence.

Evaluating Asher's explosive yet thoroughly dazed expression as he stared flatly at his phone screen, Sebastian suppressed his amusement, pushing the gold-rimmed glasses he deployed to put on a front up the bridge of his nose.

Refraining from behaving like a proper human being delivered an exceptionally upstanding sensation.

There was zero necessity to behave like a proper human being further.

The Saturday team assembly was locked for eight o'clock in the evening. Following their dinner window, the pack of individuals drove straight into a KTV.

Originally, tracking along Caleb and Mason's intent, they strictly had to track down a premium commercial establishment to open several rounds of expensive alcohol to secure an absolute front of face. However, because two minors were locked inside the combination, paired alongside the reality that their looks radiated far too much of a student aura, they were sharply rejected by the club owner.

They could only drop their weights inside a standard commercial KTV to open several crates of beer.

Caleb and Mason were packed completely to the brim with absolute friction. While consuming shrimp chips, they mapped out a tactical plan: the exact fraction of a second graduation completes, they strictly must step inside a premium establishment once, demanding the absolute most stunning companions—refraining from executing any alternative tasks, strictly forcing them to grind through college entrance examination questions inside the private room. Anyone who failed to hit the tier-one university admission baseline would be completely barred from clocking off, and zero tips would be delivered to their palms!

The absolute venom locked within their core designs drove Eugene and Milo into an immediate, freezing shudder.

Meanwhile, the authentic main character, Sebastian, put on a deadpan face from start to finish. The exact fraction of a second he stepped inside the private room, he dropped his weight into a corner seat, keeping his head low to fiddle alongside his phone. Asher also displayed zero trace of enthusiasm, sitting right beside Sebastian’s frame as his gaze periodically slanted over to evaluate his phone screen.

The atmosphere was a fraction cold.

Elliot habitually stepped out to play most on regular days, concluding that since they had successfully executed a departure to play, they strictly had to play to their heart's content—otherwise they might as well have completely refrained from stepping out. Thus, he actively assumed the responsibility of generating a warm atmosphere.

Tossing a dice cup right before every single individual's face: "Everyone possesses the capacity to play dice, right? Our pack won't execute a complex layout—the absolute simplest model: measurement of points. Whoever records the absolute smallest point total consumes alcohol. Tracking along the difference separating your score from the second-smallest total determines exactly how many cups must be drained. Subsequently, the individual recording the absolute greatest point total secures an absolute option to interrogate the smallest total alongside a single question—regardless of what question is raised, it strictly must be answered with absolute truth. Possess the nerve to play or not?"

The deep blue laser lights flashed back and forth relentlessly, an automated track filling the sound system, while waves of ghostly wailing barking out drifted over from the adjacent room—one team wrapping up their barrage just to let a fresh team launch theirs.

Once a human being stepped inside an environment, once the human layout was aligned, and once the atmosphere landed, it looked exactly as if refraining from playing crossed the boundary of absolute impossibility. Coupled alongside the reality that the few individuals possessed a personality that craved absolute chaos, they granted their synchronized consent instantly, tensing their frames to launch the attempt.

Sebastian was entirely averse to boisterous clamor, yet he possessed the awareness that this pack of absolute idiots would definitively deliver a wave of surprises behind his back down the line—these current games were merely a clumsy front deployed to mask their core intentions before the principal event.

He was entirely unwilling to fracture everyone's enthusiasm, nor did he desire to fail this collective heart, setting his phone down as a smile touched his lips: "There is absolutely nothing to lack the nerve across. Except Asher completely cannot consume alcohol—one instance tracks to the reality that his frame hasn't hit adulthood, and the second instance tracks to his stomach condition. His mother delivered a specific instruction before we stepped outside the gate."

Currently preparing to pop a bottle cap open, Asher: ... How on earth do I lack the awareness that my mom delivered a line of that nature?

Forget it, the universe is vast, but the birthday star remains the absolute greatest, I’ll restrain my system.

Serving as the organizer, Elliot’s mind was as sharp as a mirror: "Flawless, along that line, if Ash loses a round, let Boss Seb advance the consumption on his behalf."

Just as Asher wanted to launch a counter-text line, Sebastian had already snared the dice cup, speaking flatly: "Flawless."

...

Forget it, the universe is vast, but the birthday star remains the absolute greatest, I’ll continue to restrain my system.

Fortunately, Asher’s luck turned out rather upstanding. Opening his cup first, five dice yielded a total of twenty-eight points—regardless of what transpired, a failure was completely impossible to sustain.

Leaning his frame back against the sofa, his two long legs stretched out loosely with total relaxation: "Your Ash has crossed the rivers and lakes for this many years, when on earth have I experienced a single failure?"

Subsequently, he cast an arrogant look to evaluate Elliot's twenty-four points, Milo's twenty-two points, and Mason's eighteen points.

Conversely, Eugene was remarkably formidable, pulling the exact skill he weaponized to shake fortune sticks to record a total of twenty-nine points.

Tracking immediately behind was Caleb—four twos, paired alongside a single one.

Catching sight of this layout, every single individual couldn't resist letting out a loud laugh.

Mason went as far as to initiate an active alignment to pour alcohol for Caleb's frame: "What kind of absolute trash luck is engineered into your hand? Surfacing four twos paired alongside a single ace right at the start—even playing a card game wouldn't follow a trajectory this wild."

Caleb expanded his final resistance: "The final layout has completely failed to reach its conclusion! I strictly still have Boss Seb! What if his score turns out even smaller compared against this?"

"Weaponize that brain of yours to execute a calculation—what kind of absolute probability is that supposed to be? If his total lands below your baseline, I’ll launch a command to execute a handstand diarrhea sequence..."

Sebastian opened his cup.

Five ones.

...

The private room dropped into an absolute standstill.

Sebastian revealed zero trace of surprise, letting out a serene smile as he poured four full cups for his own frame, draining them cleanly in a single go.

Staring at those five ones, Asher genuinely lacked an idea of what line to deliver, managing to track down a highly forced justification: "Could it be that a structural defect is engineered into the dice?"

He held absolute zero conviction that Sebastian’s luck genuinely sat at this level of sallow misery.

Bracing his frame upright, his hand extended right before Sebastian’s face to encircle his dice cup. Sliding it across the table surface to execute a swift shake in midair, he slammed it down flatly.

Opening the cup.

Five sixes.

...

Mason spoke along a tone of absolute heartbreak: "Ash, I possess absolute clarity that you look upon Boss Seb with absolute zero affection, but in any case, it matches the individual's birthday today—why the hell must you spread an extra layer of salt straight over his wound?"

"..."

This once, Asher was genuinely stripped of a single word to deliver, standing fully upright to pace toward the door: "I'm heading to the restroom. Do you desire to follow behind my back? My system has never once witnessed a human handstand diarrhea sequence."

Mason: "...Appreciate the invitation, pass."

Elliot was naturally highly pleased to witness Sebastian's failure, weaponizing the momentum to strike while the iron was hot: "Eugene, your point total sits at the absolute greatest threshold. Whatever question you desperately want to interrogate, deliver it quickly—once you pass this village, a shop of this nature completely ceases to exist, alright."

While delivering his words, he launched a highly suggestive wink.

Eugene was a human being whose sharpness outmatched regular limits by a wide margin, his CP soul burning with an absolute blaze. Rubbing his hands together with intense excitement, he blurted out the question that had been suffocated deep within his heart for an exceptionally, exceptionally long span of time without a single shred of hesitation: "Boss Seb, the question I desperately want to interrogate is simply—do you currently possess an individual you love?"

"This specific question..." Sebastian let out a soft chuckle, his words faltering.

He unexpectedly refrained from launching an immediate denial command.

Currently hitting the doorway axis, Asher instinctively froze his steps, his hand propping open the door hovering in midair as he couldn't resist turning his head around to cast a glance toward Sebastian.

Sebastian’s tolerance for alcohol could hardly be described as upstanding. Draining four full cups of beer whole, a shallow trace of pink had already bloomed across the corners of his narrow eyes.

Leaning his frame against the back of the sofa, his hand extended to unfasten two shirt buttons, loosening the layout slightly to expose his slender neck lines and collarbone—completely discarding the self-awareness typical of an untouched flower sitting on a crisp, freezing peak.

His elongated eyes squinted slightly, that mole beneath his eye kissing the shallow crimson scoring his eye corners, his gaze appearing to casually sweep past the doorway axis with or without a shred of intent, a smile hovering vaguely across his lips.

Delivering a single syllable with total relaxation.

"Yes."