Chapter 28 "You two slept together?" "How did you find out I didn't...?"
Gentle and composed.
The simultaneous appearance of these two descriptions, which had absolutely nothing to do with the Storm Leader, caused Reinhardt's already sluggish mind to momentarily freeze, unable to process them.
For a moment he doubted that the person in front of him was Buster, but in terms of both figure and voice, the other person matched the Buster in his memory.
This suspicion overshadowed the sense of security and the intense joy that Buster's presence here had brought him.
Reinhardt pondered for a long time before he came up with a logically consistent answer that could convince himself—Buster was faking it!
That must be it.
Recalling that he had left the main group alone, and remembering what Victoria had said before, Reinhardt felt that he was close to the truth, and almost certain of it.
Once his thoughts returned to normal, Reinhardt immediately cooperated, lowering his head and remaining silent.
The gentleman was pleased with his distinguished guest's satisfaction. The middle-aged man, who was clearly older but well-maintained, nodded and smiled, saying, "It is our honor that you like it."
He then looked at Reinhardt.
There is still a bit of regret. Such a beautiful creature is standing right in front of you, like a tender lamb appearing in the sight of a hungry wolf, visible but untouchable.
He raised an eyebrow, picked up his cane, slowly stood up, and bowed to the distinguished guest beside him. His movement caused the aristocratic, pungent perfume to disperse further, making Reinhardt feel uncomfortable, and he silently held his breath.
Only after the 'gentleman' left, taking with him the man who had introduced him, did the blond son of the god secretly breathe a sigh of relief.
The air still held the scent that masked the middle-aged man's body odor, but now, finally, only he and Buster remained.
Reinhardt strained his impaired vision to observe the scene, fearing that others might still be missing and that speaking now might inconvenience Buster, who was in disguise.
But the man sitting in the center of the sofa seemed to be the owner of the place, with his legs crossed, sitting in an elegant and relaxed posture.
"Why don't you come over?" He paused, seemingly realizing there was something wrong with what he said, and apologized for his lack of consideration.
"I'm sorry, I forgot you have an eye problem."
Having said that, he actually got up and walked towards Reinhardt. Not long after, Reinhardt felt his wrists, which were bound, being lifted up, and 'Buster' was already standing beside him.
Whether it was poisoning or something else, the words he uttered while holding Reinhardt's wrist were tinged with tenderness.
Will it hurt?
...
The slow-witted Reinhardt shuddered slightly, clearly startled by the gentle and polite 'Buster'.
But Buster was completely oblivious to the fact that he was frightening people; his voice remained as gentle as ever.
He removed the chains binding Reinhardt's neck and wrists, casually tossing aside the cold leather and metal objects, and slowly said in a coaxing, ambiguous tone:
"Alright, nothing can hurt you now."
Reinhardt: ...
For some reason, he felt a bit resistant to the current 'Buster'.
It's so strange, so unlike him, it feels like he's facing a completely different person.
But Reinhard still held back, fearing that 'Buster' was forced to maintain this strange persona due to surveillance from other things.
Despite his efforts to restrain himself, Buster keenly sensed his caution.
His gaze was fixed on the blonde beauty in his arms. He saw that, under his guidance, she was still slightly tilting her head, as if trying to observe her surroundings.
The mild-mannered Buster smiled faintly and placed his hand reassuringly on Reinhardt's shoulder.
"Don't worry, there's no one else in the room, just you and me."
Buster held Reinhardt's arm and walked behind him, half-supporting and half-embracing him, guiding Reinhardt forward.
"You don't need to worry about anyone spying on us. This is a VIP room; they wouldn't dare."
Reinhardt was obediently led to the sofa, and after 'Buster' sat down, he was led to sit down as well.
They're so close.
Reinhardt ignored the discomfort in silence, tilted his head, and asked in a low, earnest voice, "Really?"
His long, tied-up hair cascaded down his chest like a waterfall as his head turned toward 'Buster', the glossy hair carrying a fragrance that slowly wafted out as it flowed down.
It was a very simple scent, like a sweet, fruity aroma, without many complex components. Yet it managed to break through the air filled with rich fragrance and take its place in his mind.
It smells so good.
Buster closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Only when he felt the handsome guy he was half-trapped in his arms shrink back did he open his eyes and realize that the distance between them was so close that only a fist was between them.
The docile blond kitten seemed startled by his impetuous actions, its shoulders slightly hunched, and it slowly backed away.
If his hand hadn't been behind him, he probably would have retreated to the doorway.
So cute.
Buster couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"I'm sorry, did I get too close and scare you?"
Reinhardt: ...
The apology now is more shocking than getting closer.
Was the person in front of him really Buster? He still felt something was off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.
The time he had to think things through was very short. Before Reinhardt could even process it, the sudden ringing of a bell outside caught his attention.
"Ring ring ring"
The crisp sound continued for three more times, and Reinhardt heard the man's voice, which should have already left, ring out again in the room.
"This is a wonderful evening. Distinguished guests, welcome to the Duogu City Auction."
Buster, who had turned the screen volume down a bit, gently patted Reinhardt's head and said reassuringly with a smile, "It's just the auction livestream starting. Don't be afraid, there's no one else in the room."
live streaming?
This touched upon another blind spot for the little blind man, known as the blind spot of knowledge.
"There's no time. Victoria's still in the dungeon. Aren't you going to rescue her? Or are you planning to bring her back?"
Battan, who had a face very similar to Buster's, raised an eyebrow slightly, and then he understood why the blonde beauty was so obedient.
He mistook himself for someone else.
Batan, who was being impersonated by someone else, was not angry. On the contrary, a strange excitement appeared on his fair-skinned, deep-set, and handsome face.
His smile grew even wider, his deep eyes reflecting the figure of the blonde beauty, and in an instant he had already decided on his next course of action.
"Don't worry, don't fret, I'll handle it." He reached out and grasped Reinhardt's wrist, then lowered his voice, his warm breath brushing against the latter's earlobe, creating an ambiguous and intimate atmosphere.
Reinhardt's earlobe itched, and he uncontrollably wanted to pull away. He and Buster had been at this distance before, but he had never felt so unfamiliar and uncomfortable as he did now.
Although Buster in his memory had a sharp tongue, was rude, and gave off a very aggressive vibe, he always left himself some breathing room no matter what he did.
He would be willing to wait, to give the slow-witted Reinhardt a little space to react gradually.
He would also pinch Reinhardt's waist, but each time it was done openly and naturally, unlike this slow, caressing touch, tinged with something that made him uneasy, something he didn't understand...
From his innocent childhood imprisonment to his youth, Reinhard did not understand the concept of lust; his feelings about it came solely from his soldiers.
This is often accompanied by malice, so Reinhardt naturally associated this feeling with malice, believing that 'Buster' was also releasing malice towards him.
But he clearly wouldn't do that.
At least, the Buster in his memory wouldn't frighten him.
More importantly, he heard that Victoria was in danger, yet she remained calm, her voice even carrying a hint of amusement, as if she were listening to the affairs of an insignificant person.
What happened?
Is he really Buster?
...
If it were simply based on the point of 'malice,' Reinhardt might be able to convince himself. In his mind, he was the one who was insignificant to Buster, and even if Buster really turned against him and did something else, Reinhardt could understand.
But Victoria is different.
They were partners who had gone through life and death together many times. From the stories Madonna told him, he could feel that their bond was strong and deep.
...Therefore, he must not be Buster.
In a flash of inspiration, Reinhardt broke free from the 'Buster' mind constructed by the familiar voice and familiar outline, calmly and swiftly raising his hand, releasing as much of his remaining divine power as possible as the other's head drew closer to him.
As expected, the bootleg Buster stopped approaching, and the hand stroking Reinhardt's waist loosened.
Reinhardt stood up from his arms.
The live auction broadcast behind them had already begun, and the elegant music combined with the man's voice that had just introduced him sounded like the opening theme of a giant indoor screen.
Having confirmed that the other party was not Buster, Reinhard activated his divine power and controlled the other party just as he had controlled Rhettizer.
But this was only a temporary measure, as Reinhardt knew very well that his divine power could not last that long.
So he decided to erase the other party's intention to harm him, then release the control, retain his divine power, and control the man to take her down when Victoria appeared.
As for what happens next... we'll see. He can only take it one step at a time for now.
Tiny wisps of golden light seeped from his fingertips, floating sparsely in the air. Reinhardt raised his slender fingers to the imposter Buster, his fingertips about to move, placing the floating golden particles onto the other's forehead.
The latter suddenly sprang up and grabbed Reinhardt's wrist!
The poor blonde was genuinely startled, stumbled backward and fell, narrowly avoiding the opponent's attack.
Fortunately, the blanket on the floor was soft enough that Reinhardt didn't hurt himself when he fell. He quickly recovered, curled up, and crawled back towards the door.
But the next second, her ankle was firmly gripped by a large hand, and she was forcefully dragged back!
Reinhardt's fingertips, which were trying to find a foothold, were rubbed raw by the carpet, and his waist was suddenly turned around to face forward.
His jaw was pinched and lifted, and Reinhardt let out a low groan of pain as his cheeks ached from the pinch.
His long, golden hair fell across the carpet like melting sunlight. His breathing was short and rapid, his chest rising and falling slightly. His thin clothes were disheveled from the struggle, and the hem was pulled out a little, revealing a section of his snow-white waistline.
His thick, curled eyelashes trembled slightly from the pain. His lips turned white from being clenched so tightly, then gradually turned crimson from lack of oxygen, as if they had been soaked in crushed rose juice.
Without saying a word, Reinhardt, that quiet little guy, can be quite stubborn at times.
The bootleg Buster leaned closer, casting a shadow over Reinhardt. His fingertips maliciously caressed Reinhardt's reddened chin as he chuckled, "How pathetic, even your struggles are so beautiful."
Reinhardt turned his head to try to avoid it, but it was gripped even tighter. His wrist was squeezed painfully, and faint red marks quickly appeared on his skin, the vivid color like sparks that instantly made the air feel hot.
"How did you find out?" the bootleg Buster teased Reinhardt gently in a voice that was 95 percent as similar to the real thing.
The latter pursed his lips and did not answer. Although he could not see the stubbornness in his eyes, this behavior still aroused the man's desire to conquer.
He wasn't angry. Just like he said, what the pirate Buster enjoyed most was the process of training him.
"How did you figure out I wasn't the person you were looking for?"
"Who is that person to you? A friend? A lover?" He asked again with a smile, whispering in Reinhardt's ear.
"You are willing to be close to him, and you are willing to sit next to him and be touched by him."
He paused, then asked with a mischievous glint in his eye, "You two slept together?"
There was no evidence of them going to bed together; Reinhardt didn't recall Buster ever entering his bedroom, or him ever entering Buster's bedroom.
The beds are far apart, so there's no question of going to bed together.
At most, he would be seated at the table; he was practically forced to eat at the table every day.
However, Reinhardt disliked this imposter, so he kept his lips tightly shut and remained silent.
Wow? Surprisingly, he has backbone.
The pirate Buster let out two low laughs, feeling only joy.
"I was initially worried that the training was going too smoothly, but I didn't expect you to bring me so many surprises."
With that, he raised his hand and slapped Reinhardt hard across the face!
*
Actually, Buster didn't have anything important to do. He was just feeling a bit stifled and wanted to temporarily separate from those two chattering guys to have some peace and quiet to clear his head.
I don't know what's bothering me.
Just then, he remembered the legend he had heard recently about the cannibalistic city of Duogu, so Buster decided to wander around the streets and try his luck.
Buster was tall, standing out from the crowd and attracting countless glances and attention. However, his muscular physique and dark complexion made him look rather intimidating, so the Storm Leader had a truly leisurely stroll.
But not long after, when it was time for a meal, his calm and peaceful state of mind began to stir again. The image of Reinhardt's slender body and him eating obediently with his head down kept flashing through his mind.
Scratching his head, the slightly irritable Storm Leader pulled out his communicator, wanting to remind Victoria to make sure Reinhardt at least ate on time.
However, all three attempts to contact her were unsuccessful, and Victoria seemed to have vanished without a trace.
Unreliable!
The Storm Leader suppressed his anger and patiently waited for Victoria's reply. But as the wait continued and Buster's calls went unanswered more and more often, the Storm Leader's anger transformed into another emotion.
Even if Victoria is unreliable, she wouldn't be out of contact for such a long time.
Something must have happened.
The Storm Leader immediately returned to the street where they had parted ways, searching for Reinhardt and Victoria. He then contacted Madonna and Celine, confirming that Victoria had not contacted them either and did not know their whereabouts.
Buster's keen sense of danger allowed him to make a swift decision: he instructed Madonna to notify the other members of the bandit gang. He remained where he was, continuing his search for Victoria and the son of the gods who had only recently gained weight and was practically immobile.
Dinner time was almost over. Buster gritted his teeth, seething with anger.
The turning point came with a piece of news.
The machine vibrated, and Buster, seeing that the sender's contact was Victoria, quickly answered the call.
"Where are you?" Buster asked in a low voice, but the anger he was holding back was about to burn through the communicator to the other end, especially since the other end remained silent after the call was connected.
The Storm Leader instantly realized that Victoria might be in a dangerous situation where she couldn't speak, so he immediately walked into a quiet, narrow alley to reduce the ambient noise that might pose a danger to Victoria.
His calmness and patience were soon rewarded. A strange woman on the communicator succinctly said, "Sixty-four Red Shell Street."
The communicator was immediately disconnected as soon as the words were spoken.
Without hesitation, the Storm Leader stepped out of the alley, grabbed a man passing by, and pulled him by the collar, getting straight to the point as if he were about to torture him.
Where is Red Shell Street?
The innocent passerby was so frightened that he stammered for a long time, which made the already impatient Storm Leader even angrier.
After discarding the useless fellow, Buster grabbed the second lucky guy and angrily questioned him by the collar.
"Where is Red Shell Street?"
This isn't asking for directions; it's clearly robbery.
The second lucky person was also startled, but was much braver than the first. After hearing Buster's question, he raised his hand and pointed out the exact direction.
"Go straight to the end of this road, turn left onto the third street, and then..."
Buster interrupted him impatiently: "Lead the way!"
The passerby looked troubled: "But I have to make an appointment... okay." Seeing Buster's dark face, he wisely swallowed the rest of his sentence. Then, in the bustling city, he experienced what high-speed parkour truly meant.
"Ugh...!" The poor passerby hadn't recovered from the weightlessness of jumping on the rooftop when he was put down at his destination. He couldn't wait to find a wall to vomit.
Fortunately, the intense exercise was before the date, and he hadn't even vomited yet. He dry-heaved for a while, and there was only a small amount of saliva on the ground.
Suddenly, a round leather bag appeared in front of him. The kind passerby was stunned by the sight of the full bag when he heard the man who had thrown it down say coldly, "Get lost."
The passersby, as if granted a pardon, grabbed their money bags and ran, fearing that this scoundrel might change his mind. Buster, on the other hand, stood in front of number 64 Red Shell Street, squinting as he examined the seemingly ordinary building.
Similar to the bustling streets, this street was lifeless and inexplicably deserted.
Night had fallen, and not a single house on either side of this seemingly endless street was lit up, not even a single streetlamp.
Passersby were reluctant to walk into this place, as if it had been abandoned.
Despite it being summer, this place exuded a desolate coolness. The fearless Storm Leader strode down the street, searching for a long time without finding anything about Sixty-Four.
Buster was furious.
He took a deep breath and actually shouted it out on the deserted street.
"Victoria! Get the hell out here!"
Buster's intention wasn't to call out Victoria's name directly; he simply wanted to use her name to scare away the little rats lurking in the streets. Unexpectedly, his shout actually worked, and a figure darted about in the alley.
Buster swayed, and the next second, he had a living person in his hand.
It turned out to be a child.
The Storm Leader frowned, preparing to casually toss the useless little mouse far away. Unexpectedly, the little mouse struggled and cried out, "You, are you looking for a blonde sister?"
The handsome man with dark skin raised an eyebrow and pulled Erna back in front of him.
"Sister?" he repeated.
“Yes.” Erna, who had been following Reinhardt, was both delighted and terrified. “Are you here to see her? The one with the high ponytail, and her companion, the one you just called out… Vi, Vido…”
He'd heard Reinhardt mention it, but couldn't quite remember, only able to vaguely name the person. But that was enough; Erner simply wanted to align his granularity with the other's.
Based on the description of her appearance, Buster could certainly understand that the older sister the child was referring to was Reinhardt. For a moment, Buster wanted to correct the image of Reinhardt in the child's eyes and tell her that Reinhardt had a boy.
But now is clearly not the time to dwell on this, and Buster hadn't actually seen him in person, so he simply ignored the issue.
Setting Erna down, the Storm Leader asked coldly, "Where are they?"
“There.” Erna pointed to a small, unlit house to the left and behind Buster, and said decisively, “The blonde woman used herself as bait and was led into that house by the talent scout. My partner and I waited for about half an hour, and then the talent scout came out alone.”
Buster immediately turned and walked in the direction Erna was pointing.
Erna quickly caught up and stopped Buster.
"Wait a minute! They might be a huge organization. Going in alone is just suicide! You'd better call more people!"
The Storm Leader ignored him and walked straight to house number sixty-four. Without any hesitation, he kicked open the dilapidated front door.
Erna: ? ? ?
The cautious child was stunned by the swift, precise, and ruthless action of the barbaric adult before him, his feet rooted to the ground, unsure whether to run or stay.
While he hesitated, the savage lord beside him had already stepped into the house.
Erna hurriedly followed him into the house, only to be instantly dumbfounded.
It had a sense of decay, as if no one had been there for many years. All the furnishings in the house were rotten and old, and large patches of wallpaper had peeled off the walls, revealing damp, bluish mold.
Dust billowed up from the broken door, and a beam of moonlight streamed down from the hole in the roof, illuminating the trail of the dancing dust and providing a sliver of light for the two of them.
"No one's here." Buster glanced around the room, then turned to Erna, his face expressionless. "You're lying to me?"
The savage, adult man's deep pupils gleamed coldly in the darkness, like a wild beast hunting its prey. Erna swallowed hard, thinking he looked like a ghost.
The cold sweat on his back soaked his clothes without him realizing it. The child shivered and quickly shook his head.
"No, I absolutely did not lie to you!"
The cold, terrifying gaze remained fixed on him for a full five or six seconds. Then, a bead of sweat the size of a bean trickled down Erna's forehead, and the savage, sharp-featured man suddenly grinned, giving him a 'kind' smile.
It looks even more like a ghost!!
Just as Erna's mind was racing, trying to figure out if he should escape from the man's grasp, the ghost-like adult beat him to it, grabbed him by the back of his collar, and lifted Erna up.
The dizzying feeling of weightlessness and the sound of roof tiles breaking occurred simultaneously. Erna's body sank, and he found himself floating in mid-air, supported by a high-tech levitation device.
Startled, Erna choked back a scream and frantically clung to the hovercraft, terrified of falling.
The man who had instilled fear in Erna hovered before him, slowly raising his hand. A fierce wind tousled his hair as the storm leader's raised hand slowly coalesced into a fist.
Flames leaped and danced between the fists.
Like a meteorite tearing through the night, it transformed into a blazing red line in the boy's constricted pupils before crashing down to the earth!
"boom!"
The sound was deafening!
Number 64 Red Shell Street instantly crumbled into rubble, and the entire desolate street spread out in a spiderweb pattern from number 64 in all directions. The cracks in the ground were filled with flames, weaving a scorching net.
The next second, the earth shook violently!
-----------------------
Author's note: Batan, who was beaten black and blue: I'm curious, how did you tell that I wasn't his?
Reinhardt (the honest man): ...The feel of touching me is different.
Madonna: ? ? ?
Madonna: You've been touched so many times by the leader?! ...No. The leader has touched you so many times he knows you well?! ...No.
The proud Buster leaned over and continued to pat the god's head.
————
[Please!] Get ready for a blast in the next chapter!
Please, get ready, young couple (at least one of you) to start dating!
[It's melted] burned out... I'm going back to my little dark room to continue writing.
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