TSBIRBV Ch 155

Chapter 155 An Offer One Cannot Refuse (1)

The man who had shifted from capable partner to merciless creditor wore a meaningful smile.

Feigning tension, Yegyeol hardened his expression. Whatever the other demanded, he was more than willing to be toyed with to the fullest.

“Please, speak.”

Merely drawing out the silence was enough for the man to seize the initiative; his lips curved into the faintest of smiles.

“First, shall we account for the fine talent I introduced you to?”

Yegyeol had never assumed such an introduction would come for free.

Suppressing the perverse delight of becoming the Central Plains’ greatest debtor, he forced himself to sit straight, fixing his gaze on Black Ghost’s mouth.

“While Young Lord Mun led the resolution of the affair with admirable initiative, you nonetheless left a personal debt with the constable. As promising as he is, there will be many occasions in the future when Black Spot will require his aid to move freely in Chengdu. As a Black Spot officer, I must thank you.”

At first, Yegyeol thought he was joking.

But Black Ghost—Je Haryang—could not have looked more sincere.

“Is… is that so?”

Awkwardly, Yegyeol nodded.

“Even for this alone, my participation was worth it.”

With those words, Yegyeol’s hopes collapsed with a crash.

He had thought it would now be his turn, that Black Ghost would bind him with a debt and keep him tethered close—but something had gone wrong.

“But did it not cost you considerable effort to spread rumors and draw all those swindlers together?”

Desperately, Yegyeol tried to place labor costs upon Haryang’s scales.

Surely, across the whole Central Plains, I must be the only fool desperate to incur debt.

And what’s more, the man before him was an officer of Black Spot, who dealt in life and death as if they were commodities.

“Ah, that matter,” Black Ghost said, tilting his head as if Yegyeol had given him just the right opening.

“There were even some who had escaped Black Spot’s surveillance. By tracing those swindlers back, I uncovered several fences who had been trading behind Black Spot’s back.”

Yegyeol felt a shiver of foreboding.

Watching the scarred lips of Black Ghost form his declaration, he longed to silence them with his hand—yet he was helpless to do anything but listen.

“The petty vermin we had dismissed had joined hands and built considerable strength. Pursuing them led us to uncover a cell that had long rotted a corner of Black Spot.”

What? This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

Something had gone terribly awry.

“We exterminated the rats slipping through the cracks, and so… the profit was beyond reckoning in coin.”

He had come to incur debt, but instead the other claimed he had profited—so it was Yegyeol who must repay. The irony was unbearable.

Blankly, Yegyeol stared at Black Ghost’s shameless face.

He had come prepared to be saddled with debts beyond measure, but instead found himself at a loss.

“If you are not mocking me, then are you saying Black Spot truly profited from this affair?”

“A merchant does not tell such lies.”

But Yegyeol, who knew just how many lies a merchant’s silver tongue could weave, narrowed his eyes. Was not even the face before him a lie?

You’re not even truly a merchant…

Nine parts of Je Haryang’s being must surely be martial man. And yet, to sit there with such brazen calm—it made Yegyeol’s temper flare.

Are you trying to draw a line with the guise of Black Ghost? But if that’s so, how do you explain your reaction when we met again in Sichuan?

Yegyeol’s thoughts spun furiously. They said that even if heaven collapsed, a hole would open to escape—but today, no stratagem came to him.

“Young Lord Mun’s skill is so fine, Black Spot may be ruined.”

Black Ghost shook his head in mock despair.

Though Yegyeol struggled to manage his expression, he could not wholly conceal the grimace, and bit his lip.

This is not how it was supposed to be…!

It seemed that even being too skilled at business was a problem.

Then Haryang murmured softly,

“To repay a debt, you must strive harder.”

In Yegyeol’s ears, it resounded like a sacred chant. Before the thrill could bloom fully, the man caught his hand and drew him close.

Pulled forward, Yegyeol’s eyes were caught upon the brush of fabric and the glimpse of skin within the parted robe.

“You seemed to like it before—was I right?”

Rather than deny it, he would sooner tear out his tongue.

After a brief hesitation, Yegyeol slid his hand within that robe, palm pressed to Black Ghost’s chest. Not as hardened as Haryang’s true form, yet firm enough.

Guiding seeped subtly into him, drenching him like rain upon drought. It felt so good it made him dizzy.

“Because you were the one who taught me the pleasures of lust.”

Yegyeol’s cheeks flushed crimson with shame, yet he held his gaze steady, forcing his voice into feigned calm—an attitude that only incited further provocation.

“Young Lord Mun… you are an altogether too clever disciple.”

At Black Ghost’s murmur, Yegyeol blinked.

Though he had never said it aloud, Baekyang Jin-in had always looked upon him with scorn, as if he were the emptiest of shells.

No matter how he strove in training, he never once won his master’s approval. On some days in the training yard, when Yegyeol had exhausted himself, a fellow disciple had jeered, “Even an empty cart makes the most noise,” cackling all the while.

“This is the first time I’ve heard such words.”

Lowering his eyes, Yegyeol whispered. He had every will to fling mud at Baekyang Jin-in’s name, but he would not spoil the moment by invoking him.

“You shall hear it often.”

Haryang’s lips pressed over Yegyeol’s. The hand pressing gently to his back was tender. Yegyeol raised his hands to Haryang’s shoulders and yielded to the kiss.

The sweep over his teeth, the soft brush of tongue against palate—it was yielding, gentle. Forced to breathe through his nose as the man stole his breath, Yegyeol panted. Trying to push back by bracing his shoulders, he found his hair caught by Haryang’s other hand.

When at last he was released from the long, consuming kiss, Yegyeol gasped.

If they had been underwater, he could have held his breath three minutes easily, but with Haryang, even that seemed impossible. His body, under Haryang’s hands, so easily slipped out of his control.

Perhaps a Guide is not a vaccine, but a virus.

Espers were aberrations, after all—creatures that burned out and vanished. However grandiose the words—heroes of humanity, and so forth—they were still mutants.

To bind such beings to the world by force seemed less like cure, more like error.

They twisted all natural calculations, forcing one result to endlessly print itself—such was the nature of a virus.

Every Esper Yegyeol had known was broken. Himself included.

Strange, how a full belly makes one think of such things.

Black Ghost lifted him from the chair and set him upon the desk. His feet dangled, not touching the floor.

Black Ghost shed his outer robe and spread it behind Yegyeol. As the man leaned close, Yegyeol held his breath for a heartbeat.

In his single robe, Haryang’s body seemed all the more starkly revealed.

“If I am a good disciple… then what of you, Black Ghost?”

Black Ghost narrowed his brow briefly, then smiled roguishly.

“I? Why, the worst of teachers.”

“Why so?”

Unthinking, Yegyeol brushed his lips with his fingers.

“Because you left me too long without coming to find me…”

The man spread his hands upon Yegyeol’s legs, parting them.

“…and I came to regret teaching you how to console yourself alone.”

Yegyeol’s eyes widened. As if to confirm his suspicion, the man lifted Yegyeol’s fingers to his mouth and licked them.

The wet sound, the soft heat—it made Yegyeol’s waist twitch. His gaze wavered, on the verge of tears.

Unheeding, Haryang drew the fingers deeper, sucking with exaggerated slurps. The slick heat of his tongue and mouth teased Yegyeol mercilessly.

For a single finger, the sounds were indecent, obscene, as if they were already entangled in full union.

With the face of a ruthless martial rogue, the Guide who had lowered his eyes in obedience toyed with Yegyeol’s hand.

“E—enough now…”

It was not that Yegyeol wanted to stop. But at this rate, he feared he would forget restraint, tearing Black Ghost’s garments apart.

To his surprise, Black Ghost yielded to his plea without protest.

“You’ve released me?”

“I owe Young Lord Mun a mountain of debts. To do what he dislikes, and risk being cast aside—would I dare? Did I not tell you?”

He released Yegyeol’s fingers from his lips, pressing a light kiss upon them.

“That I would strive harder.”

Yegyeol thought it unbearably foolish—and yet, his face flushed despite himself.

Black Ghost looked upon him with the faintest crooked smile. Yegyeol had never imagined his Senior Brother could smile so, and now the curiosity to see him do so in his true face nearly drove him mad.

“…I look forward to it.”

At those words, Black Ghost’s smile grew more proper, before he seized Yegyeol’s ankle and tugged. Off balance, Yegyeol fell backward.

“Ah!”

He thought Haryang was stripping away his lower garments, but instead came the ripping sound of fabric. Cold air upon bare skin raised gooseflesh.

Still clad in upper robes and shoes, to be exposed below alone was a peculiar shame.

Gripping his hips and spreading them, Black Ghost murmured,

“When I had only wet your fingers, I thought to have you widen yourself. But now… I see I was far too heated.”

It was like the grievance of a bridegroom long left alone.

“To think of something other than myself entering you—makes me burn with rage.”

Yegyeol’s toes curled within his shoes at the jolt that ran through him.

Kissing up his raised knee, the man smiled darkly and let go. With his hands, he spread Yegyeol open and whispered,

“You forbade fingers—so here, you will permit me.”