System Mission: Seduce the Final Boss [BL]-Chapter 23: Liar!

Blake swallowed, unable to tear his eyes away from the menacing red dot.

’What the hell is he doing there?’

He pushed himself up from the bed and began pacing, his mind racing through every possible explanation.

There was nothing there.

Nothing worth seeing.

Nothing worth stealing.

Nothing at all.

But maybe that wasn’t such bad news.

"He’s a crazy bastard," Blake muttered under his breath. "That’s no secret."

With a heavy sigh, he bent forward, rubbing his temples.

"I can’t call him. If I do... who knows how he’ll react." He paused, jaw tightening. "It’d be too much of a coincidence."

He straightened slowly, the dull throb in his temples getting stronger.

Zero.

After all the weeks of reckless interactions, he had finally dragged Myles’s favorability up to 0.

Whatever that meant to Myles’ feelings, it didn’t matter because distance was the fastest way to destroy it all.

Blake glanced again at the red dot on the screen.

Right on top of his house.

"...Of all places," he muttered.

If Myles was there, and the tracker had never been wrong before, then maintaining a careful distance from him would be the worst possible move.

Even if Myles was about to bombard his apartment complex or this mansion, there was no use in being careful.

Silence created space.

Space created doubt.

And doubt... well, Myles had never been particularly stable to begin with.

Blake had learned that the hard way, favorability decayed when contact faded.

Which meant he had to keep the line alive.

’Just, how the hell do I keep it casual when I know he’s literally inside my house? This is just insane.’

Just enough presence to keep the number from slipping back into the negatives.

Blake exhaled slowly and picked up his phone.

’Don’t overthink it. Earlier he was nice enough to speak with me on the phone. On the phone! That has never happened before, he won’t dislike me again.’

Thing is, if he sounded too eager, Myles would notice. If he sounded distant, the meter would start dropping again.

He opened the chat window and stared at the empty text field.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

"Normal. Just be normal..."

After a moment, he typed:

Did you get home safely?

Blake stared at the message for a few seconds longer than necessary before hitting send.

The screen returned to the chat log, the small delivered mark appearing almost instantly.

His gaze drifted back to the map.

The red dot hadn’t moved.

Still inside his house.

Blake leaned back in the chair, a tight knot forming in his stomach.

Then, a ding followed.

"Ah, isn’t he the perfect liar..."

Yes, I did.

Blake stared at the message for a long moment.

Yes, I did.

***

Blake had experienced many unpleasant weeks before.

This one, however, was special.

Everywhere he went, people stared.

Not openly, his family was far too refined for that, but the glances were quite unnerving.

His father’s gaze lingered half a second too long during breakfast.

His half-brother paused mid-sentence while speaking to someone else, eyes flicking toward Blake with an unreadable expression.

Even Calliope, normally rude enough to make him cringe, had looked at him strangely during dinner two nights ago.

Like he had grown horns.

Or committed some unforgivable sin.

Blake didn’t ask, of course.

If they weren’t telling him something, it probably meant they didn’t think he deserved to know.

Blake was, after all, the illegitimate child.

Though the chest pain had started around the same time.

It wasn’t as sharp or painful, but he truly couldn’t help but find it annoying annoying.

A faint squeeze behind the sternum that appeared whenever he spent too long around his family.

Blake suspected stress, not death.

Or maybe indigestion. He ate like a pig, since the food looked delicious.

Either way, it wasn’t serious enough to bother with.

The staff, however, were a different story.

When the maid came to clean his room two days ago, she had nearly dropped the laundry basket when he spoke.

Yesterday, one of the younger house attendants had visibly flinched when he walked past in the hallway.

Today, the butler avoided eye contact entirely.

Blake noticed.

Blake also decided he didn’t care.

If they were uncomfortable around him, that was their problem.

Which brought him to today.

Blake yawned loudly, rolling onto his side on the bed.

Sunlight filtered through the tall curtains, casting warm gold across the polished floor.

The clock on the nightstand read 8:57 AM.

Too early.

Far too early for whatever nonsense the family had planned today.

Calliope’s birthday.

Blake stared blankly at the ceiling.

He wasn’t excited.

Not even a little.

Family celebrations probably never involved him beyond the bare minimum.

He would show up, stand somewhere out of the way, say "Happy Birthday," and leave once social obligations were fulfilled.

"That is, if I’m lucky... how did he even deal with this bullshit, ugh."

Knock. Knock.

Right on time.

Blake sighed.

"Come in."

The door opened, and two staff members stepped inside.

One carried a garment bag.

The other held a neatly folded set of accessories.

"Good morning, young master." the older attendant said politely.

Blake sat up, stretching his arms above his head.

"Morning."

The garment bag was unzipped.

Inside hung a tailored outfit clearly chosen for an upscale event.

Blake raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, we’re doing that kind of party?"

Neither staff member responded.

They simply went to work.

Blake stood still while they dressed him with efficient professionalism.

First the shirt, crisp white, smooth cotton, fitted but comfortable.

Then the trousers, dark charcoal, perfectly pressed.

Over that came a tailored jacket the color of deep midnight blue, subtle but elegant. The cut fit his not-so-tall frame well, emphasizing his shoulders without looking too stiff.

Finally, a narrow black tie.

One of the attendants stepped back to examine him critically.

Blake caught his reflection in the mirror.

Blonde hair, slightly messy no matter how much they tried to tame it.

Brown eyes that always looked a little too tired for someone his age.

The outfit itself looked expensive.

Ridiculously so.

Blake tilted his head slightly.

’...Overkill for a birthday party.’

The staff member handed him polished black shoes.

Blake slipped them on, uncomfortably so.

’I bet my feet are going to hurt...’

By 9:20 AM, Blake was being escorted down the grand staircase.

The mansion was already busy.

Staff moving quickly.

Drivers preparing vehicles outside.

His family had already gathered near the entrance.

Blake slowed slightly, bracing himself.

His father glanced at him with that same strange expression again.

Blake’s half-brother looked away immediately after making eye contact.

Calliope herself stood near their mother, dressed in a stunning pastel dress, already surrounded by attention.

She didn’t look at Blake.

Not once.

In the same way, he didn’t approach.

Instead, he stepped quietly toward the side entrance.

A staff member opened the door.

"Your car is ready, young master."

Blake paused.

"...My car?"

He looked past the doorway.

The family was climbing into a large luxury vehicle along with the rest of the family.

Meanwhile, a separate black sedan waited nearby.

For him.

Blake blinked.

"Huh."

Separate transportation wasn’t exactly unusual.

He stepped into the sedan.

The door closed behind him.

The ride, as expected, was particularly uneventful.

’I expected some sort of family drama, for some reason.’

At least, within this week, he had learnt a few useful things about his family.

For example that he didn’t even have his father’s last name, Anlorta, which sounded fairly rich company to Ashford.

His brand you half-brother’s name is Alexander.

And his step-mother, Arabella, had a weird hobby of stealing glances.

’If only they weren’t so damn weird...’

The faint ache in his chest pulsed again. He pressed a hand against his sternum.

Not only them, of course, there was also Myles.

Apart from the fact that, at least, his favorability didn’t change because of Blake’s efforts, he just continued to go to Blake’s place for hours.

’Just you wait, I’ll never invite you again after this...!’

Then, the car eventually slowed.

Then turned.

And the scenery changed.

Wider roads.

A flash of blue water stretching into the distance.

Blake opened one eye.

They were approaching a massive lakeside estate.

The mansion came into view.

It was huge and elegant.

White stone reflecting sunlight.

Expansive gardens.

Terraces overlooking the lake.

Decorations were already visible even from the driveway, banners, flowers, arrangements clearly prepared for a large celebration.

Blake let out a quiet whistle.

’Just, how many mansions do they own?’

That was nothing short of impressive.

The sedan rolled forward slowly before stopping near the front steps.

Blake opened the door himself and stepped out.

Cool lake air brushed against his face.

Guests were already arriving.

Staff moved everywhere.

Music faintly drifted from somewhere inside the mansion.

Blake shoved his hands casually into his pockets and looked up at the enormous building.

Then toward the lake beyond it.

Then back at the mansion.

His stomach twisted slightly.

Not from nerves.

More like... instinct.

The kind that told him something unpleasant was waiting just around the corner.

Blake sighed quietly.

"...Alright."

He straightened his jacket.

Then started walking toward the entrance.

’I wonder what kind of trouble is waiting for me this time.’