World's Best Protagonist [BL]-Chapter 135: The Billionaire’s Motive

"Is this a formal turnover or just an abuse of authority to trespass on someone’s house?"

I asked flatly, standing by the door with crossed arms, my expression oscillating between tired and sarcastic.

Joseph Armand, resident billionaire and walking embodiment of "I-do-what-I-want," chuckled like he’d just heard an inside joke only the rich understand. He leisurely strolled past me as if I were the butler he didn’t bother to greet.

"No need to be so hostile, Mr. Dela Torre," he said, moving with the confidence of a man who was allergic to being told ’no.’ "Let’s just say... a formal turnover. I personally took care of the former tenant’s belongings. Least you could do is let me sit for five minutes before kicking me out."

Calling me Jade with familiarity before, then addressing me formally next. What the hell is this guy trying to do? I always had this wary feeling towards him since I first saw him. It’s a wonder.

The guy did nothing wrong. In fact, he was helping. Back at the Chamber meeting where General Rivas grilled me? It was because of him that the old military guy let me go. Same thing during the team’s interrogation about Noir’s death, he interfered, acting all so considerate towards the team.

But somehow, my senses are telling me to be careful.

He plopped himself down onto the leather couch like a man reclaiming his favorite throne. Legs crossed with precision, arms outstretched along the backrest, and head tilted ever so slightly as if waiting for a court jester to amuse him.

I narrowed my eyes. "You’re way too comfy for someone who’s supposed to be ’just dropping off the keys.’" I stayed behind the couch, arms now planted on the headrest, my chin resting lazily atop them. "You sure this isn’t your house and I’m the squatter?"

He smirked. "I’ve got a lot of free time."

"Now that’s suspicious." I straightened up. "A billionaire with free time? Should I check if the stock market crashed this morning?"

Joseph chuckled again, though this time with a breath of something more thoughtful. "Alright, I’ll be honest." His posture shifted subtly, legs still crossed, but he leaned forward, his tone turning sober. "I don’t believe Noir died."

My humor dried up. I know Allen would not tell him the truth, no matter how close they are. So, it only means that he knew from the start. Yet he still took our side and saved us from further inquisition by the general.

What is his motive?

I said nothing, watching him closely now. Joseph Armand had the kind of face you couldn’t read easily. Everything he did, from his half-lidded gaze to the leisurely way he breathed, looked intentional.

"My dear brother," he continued, "is not what you’d call... emotionally resilient. He’s affectionate in his own awkward, socially inept way. If someone he cared about died—even if it’s just a teammate—he’d have shut himself in his room for days, not RSVPed to family dinner like it’s just another Sunday."

If disbelief had a face, that would be me right now. Allen? Socially inept? Are we thinking about the same person? However, instead of disproving his speech, I stayed on script and let him direct this conversation.

I frowned. "You think Allen and Noir were friends?"

Joseph shrugged with elegant indifference. "Weren’t they?"

"No?" I blinked, shifting to lean on one leg. "They were like two magnets of the same pole. Constantly repelling each other. Honestly, I’m shocked they never actually threw hands. ’Teammates’ is a strong enough label. Anything more is a hallucination."

Joseph hummed. "Interesting. I guess I don’t know my brother as much as I thought." He stood up, brushing nonexistent lint off his slacks with the flair of a man who’s never worn a wrinkled shirt in his life. "Well then. Congratulations on your new home."

That’s it?

He extended a hand for a handshake, which I stared at like it was a strange artifact. Still, I took it.

His hand was warm, firm, and surprisingly grounded for someone whose net worth could buy a small country. He smiled, polite but enigmatic, then turned for the door.

But something tugged at me. A small coil of tension wound itself into my gut. Call it instinct or paranoia, both were good friends of mine. It just didn’t make sense. Why did he bring up Noir and Allen, then just leave after?

He was here for something. But I couldn’t point my finger at it. So, instead of tiring my brain to think of possible reasons, let’s just be direct.

"What did you really come here for?" I asked, squinting at his back like I could peel the answer from between his shoulder blades.

Joseph paused. The air changed. My shoulders tensed.

One hand in his pocket, the other still hanging loose by his side. He didn’t turn fully, just enough to offer me a glance over his shoulder. And this time, all humor was gone from his face.

He exhaled through his nose before looking up at the ceiling like he was choosing his words from a library shelf.

"In this line of work," he began, "relationships that go beyond what’s considered... normal... tend to form. It’s inevitable, especially for Minders. You’re meant to sync emotionally, even psychologically. It creates bonds. Deep ones. Ones you don’t even notice until they threaten to cross a line."

I cocked my head. "Okay... and?"

"My brother’s the youngest in our family," Joseph said, voice like steel in velvet. "He’s our parents’ pride. Everything he’s done, whether as a doctor, a Seeker, or a good little Allen, has been to meet expectations." freёnovelkiss.com

He paused, lips pressed into a line. "I just hope bringing home a boyfriend isn’t one of them."

The air went still.

I blinked. "...Boyfriend?"

Joseph turned to the door again. "Have a good evening, Mr. Dela Torre."

The door clicked shut.

I stood frozen in the middle of the room, one eyebrow twitching. "WHAT?"

Seriously, what the fuck was he talking about?

I stumbled back a step and dragged a hand through my hair, then paced the floor like I was searching for the brain cell Joseph had clearly stolen from me. Did he really just say that? Where in the universe did he get that idea from?!

"BOYFRIEND?!" I yelled at no one in particular. My voice echoed back like the Sanctum itself was mocking me.

I sighed and slumped on the couch, limbs dramatically sprawled like I was in a telenovela.

"Damn...should I be glad that was all he came here for?"

—

[3rd Person’s POV]

Meanwhile, outside the Sanctum...

Joseph had paused just a few feet from the gate, staring at his right hand. The one Jade had shaken.

His brows furrowed, just faintly. His thumb brushed over his palm like he was checking for something invisible. For a man who built an empire off gut instinct and sheer manipulation, there was rarely anything that caught him off guard.

Yet here he was. Befuddled. Amazed. Intrigued.

He murmured under his breath, "An exception."

A peculiar glint flickered in his eyes, equal parts curiosity and the faintest edge of menace. The kind that meant he’d just discovered a puzzle... or prey. An interesting prey that he found amusing and confusing at the same time.

In his eyes, reflected not the sympathy towards his brother, whom he had just met once, and he knew already that he carried a broken heart, but an unexplainable uneasiness toward his younger brother’s target of affection.

He clenched his hand into a fist, tightly his knuckles whitened. Jade Dela Torre had the ability to cancel any awakened powers. A peculiar and omnipotent power he could have had. It was a pity he couldn’t get it.

But everything he wants, he gets. So, if he couldn’t get the power, then he must get the one who has it. A smirk crossed his face. He should comfort his brother and then advise him not to give up on the guy.

He turned his head and gave the Sanctum one last look.

"Jade Dela Torre...one way or another, you will be mine."

And with that, Joseph Armand walked away, still smiling, still dangerous, and now very, very intrigued.