Chapter 24 Part 3

【But in the seven days he was away, the hospital was engulfed in a bizarre fire, and you perished in the flames.】

【Devastated, Agamemnon took the surviving virus and hoped to use it to save you—and the other innocent victims of the hospital.】

【But every injection failed.】

【In desperation, he injected the last dose into himself.】

【Ironically, he gained immortality from it and became a true monster.】

Luo Li pressed himself against the icy cold storage unit, lost in profound shock, unable to pull himself back to reality.

At that moment, Ling Yu said, “But one thing doesn’t add up. How did the government find out about him and Luo Li?”

Fu Shiyue seemed to let out a cold laugh.

“Of course because… there was a mole.”

Ling Yu narrowed his eyes.

“Was it you?”

Before Fu Shiyue could answer, a massive crash echoed. Something burst from the shadows, lunging straight at the two men.

The instant Luo Li made out what it was, his body went rigid. He clamped his hand over his mouth to stifle a scream.

…It was a gigantic tentacle, veins bulging, pitch-black all over, pulsing with eerie green light.

Far larger than Wado’s tentacles—even the cold storage units looked tiny beside it.

And this tentacle clearly wasn’t the whole thing. The horrific entity lurked deeper in the laboratory, its full form hidden.

Luo Li’s instincts screamed that this wasn’t Wado.

It was a far more terrifying, inhuman monster.

In that split second, survival instinct overwhelmed him. He stopped caring about the truth—he just needed to escape the laboratory.

But chaos reigned inside now, and he couldn’t find the exit.

“Go left.”

007 lit up a beam of light for him. “Follow what I say. Hurry.”

The light revealed a gap behind the cold storage units. Luo Li’s legs trembled as he bolted for the door without looking back.

He heard gunfire behind him—probably Ling Yu or Fu Shiyue hitting the monster.

But Luo Li didn’t care anymore. The exit was right there. He slammed the door open and burst out.

Just then, the communicator on his wrist beeped.

It showed Agamemnon’s location—right nearby.

That man… was in the laboratory too?

Luo Li instinctively turned back. He wanted to save him.

But his feet skidded to a halt. One line from the backstory flashed through his mind.

—Agamemnon had injected himself with the Wado Virus and become a true monster.

Could it be—could that thing inside actually be—

The communicator beeped insistently on his wrist. Outside, a violent storm broke without warning, rain pounding down.

…

Thunder rumbled outside.

Agamemnon pushed open the door. The big bed was empty—not even rumpled from lying on. The hardcover storybook sat untouched, exactly as he’d left it.

He walked slowly to the pink door of that room. The lock was open—quite clever; he’d found the key himself.

In his memory, his Lili had always been timid, deathly afraid of thunderstorms. Whenever one hit, he’d cling to Agamemnon, begging to sleep together.

But now, he’d rather return to his own room and sleep alone than share the bed.

Was it rebellion?

Or did he find Agamemnon more frightening than the thunder?

He pushed the door open. On the bed, the little blanket was balled up tight. The pillow was buried in the corner, with only a tuft of fluffy hair peeking out.

A strange warmth melted in Agamemnon’s chest, softening the ache in his heart.

He tiptoed to the bedside and, through the blanket, gently stroked Luo Li’s small head.

Luo Li seemed to be asleep—or so it appeared.

The pale fingers clutching the bedsheet in trembling fists betrayed him. Agamemnon chuckled deeply and leaned down to kiss his ear.

The boy inside the blanket shuddered but gave no response.

…Those heavy footsteps finally receded after what felt like forever. The door clicked shut, leaving only silence.

Luo Li yanked the blanket down a bit and gasped for air like a man reborn.

He caught a faint whiff of blood. Sitting up, he spotted bloodstains on the floor.

Splotches trailed across the floorboards, leading out of the room.

Agamemnon really was hurt.

Though he tried to shove the memory away, the image of that massive, coiled tentacle bursting through the wall replayed uncontrollably in his mind.

Eerie green poison seeped from the suckers on the tentacle. The bulging veins pulsed and throbbed. When it hit the ground, it must have weighed a thousand pounds.

He truly couldn’t believe that this stern, handsome officer had any connection to such an ugly, ferocious monster.

But…

What if there was no connection?

Then he’d wronged him.

The blood on the floor was glaring. Luo Li’s heart pounded with dread.

After a fierce internal struggle, he jumped out of bed and went to Agamemnon’s room.

The door was ajar. As he raised his hand to knock, he saw red liquid seeping from underneath.

…Blood.

Dark red blood splattered across the floor. The door handle bore the same marks.

Without thinking, Luo Li shoved the door open.

Agamemnon leaned against the bed. He’d shed most of his outer clothes. His black shirt hid the blood, but crimson soaked through from underneath, staining the sheets dark red.

“You—you, what’s wrong?!”

Agamemnon lifted his gaze, a touch of surprise in his eyes. “You haven’t gone to sleep yet?”

“Never mind me. Are you… hurt?”

“It’s just a minor wound. Don’t worry about it.” Agamemnon drew his coat closer to conceal the injury. The rough pad of his thumb gently rubbed Luo Li’s eye socket. “It’s late. You should get some rest.”

Luo Li didn’t budge.

If anything happened to the Leader Boss, the players would clear the instance, and everything would end. All his previous efforts would go to waste. Agamemnon couldn’t just die like this.

He was clearly injured, so why had he gone to Luo Li’s room earlier to check on him?

Was his well-being more important than the man’s own life?

Regardless, the Leader Boss had never done him any harm. Luo Li couldn’t simply leave him there, bleeding and unattended.

The man touched his forehead lightly. “What’s wrong? Is there something else you want to tell… me?”

Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the steady ticking of the clock.

Agamemnon suddenly remembered. “Oh, I get it. It’s the goodnight kiss.”

He pushed himself up, cradled Luo Li’s cheeks in his hands, and pressed a soft kiss to his tender pink lips.

This one skimmed like a dragonfly touching water—gentle and fleeting.

The clock ticked over to exactly midnight.

Agamemnon let out a low chuckle. “Good thing I didn’t break my promise.”

Yet Luo Li still didn’t leave. He sat beside him, his mind brimming with questions but no idea which one to voice first.

The goodnight kiss no longer mattered. After that brief contact from the man, his almond-shaped eyes went wide, utterly baffled by his intentions.

Agamemnon spoke up. “If you’re not ready for bed, why don’t you help me bandage this? You must be even better at it now.”

Luo Li bit his lip, hesitating for a moment before nodding.

The man’s arm beneath his shirt was soaked through with blood, but the wound itself didn’t appear life-threatening.

Relieved, Luo Li disinfected the area, cut off a strip of gauze, and wrapped it securely, staunching the flow.

The bleeding had stopped, but the existing bloodstains were still alarming.

He rose and headed to the bathroom, planning to fetch a towel to wipe the blood from Agamemnon’s body.

A fresh towel now hung on the rack inside. Without a second thought, Luo Li soaked it in water and turned to leave.

But just before stepping out, his eyes caught the trash bin by the door.

The very towel he’d accidentally used earlier was discarded inside.

Luo Li froze. An inexplicable unease began to brew in his chest.

His fingertips clenched tightly as chaotic thoughts swirled: Did Agamemnon find him that repulsive?

On second thought, that didn’t add up. The man had held onto it during his bath that day. So why toss it now?

The doubts swelled within him. Unable to resist, he slipped on a pair of disposable gloves and lifted the towel by one corner.

It was filthy.

Splash-like white stains covered it, accompanied by a thick, musky odor.

Someone had clearly used it roughly; the marks showed no signs of fading.

Luo Li recoiled in shock and dropped it back into the bin. He peeled off the gloves in a hurry and threw them in after it.

He knew what that substance was.

Wado had produced something just like it, right in front of him.

Had Agamemnon used this towel for… that?

Why on earth would he?

With so many stains, it couldn’t have been incidental.

No, he must have done it deliberately—aimed right at the towel Luo Li had used.

His mind reeled in confusion, but in the end, he forced the thoughts down.

There had to be a misunderstanding. Agamemnon didn’t seem like someone who would harbor those kinds of urges.

They’d shared a bed countless times, after all. The man had always shown him utmost respect—no boundary-crossing touches. He came across as nothing more than a restrained, paternal figure.

Perhaps it wasn’t what he’d imagined. The scent and color were just similar, that was all.

With trembling fingers, Luo Li tossed the towel back into the bin and removed the gloves.

That was when he turned and saw Agamemnon standing silently in the bathroom doorway, watching him with hooded eyes.

Luo Li jolted, his steps faltering as he stammered, “Sir, I…”

Agamemnon’s expression remained unchanged. He stepped forward and grasped Luo Li’s hand.

Pulling two wet wipes from his pocket, he methodically cleaned Luo Li’s fingers. His own body still bore dried bloodstains, yet it was as if those delicate hands took precedence above all else.

Luo Li murmured softly, “Perhaps I should take care of your wound first.”

Agamemnon remained silent. He met Luo Li’s gaze, then slowly undid his buttons and shrugged off his shirt entirely.

There, on his chest, were several bullets embedded deep—straight through the heart.

The arm wound hadn’t been the source of the bleeding. This was.

Ling Yu’s shots had struck true, inflicting a fatal injury.

Beneath the boy’s stunned stare, Agamemnon pressed a hand to the wounds without a flicker of emotion. His muscles and bones twisted and writhed grotesquely, devouring the fragments bit by bit until his skin lay smooth and unmarred once more.

Leaning against the wall, the man’s dark green eyes gleamed in the mirror’s reflection—a twisted, obsessive hunger lurking within.

His voice, however, stayed in that familiar, gentle paternal tone. “I’m sorry, Lili. I threw away your towel. But it wasn’t because I thought you were dirty.”

The words formed an apology, yet none of the regret reached his tone.

“I thought I was.”

He hadn’t wanted to discard it. At first, he’d only craved the faint trace of Lili’s scent clinging to it, pressing it to his nose for a whiff. But then his mind wandered further.

Where exactly had Lili wiped himself with it? His arms? His neck? His chest… or between his thighs?

The images refused to fade, building until he could hold back no longer. Clutching the towel, he defiled it.

A shiver raced down Luo Li’s spine as he scrambled for an excuse. “N-No, it’s fine. Just a little accidental stain.”

“It wasn’t an accident.”

Agamemnon’s voice was even, but the grotesque creaking of his twisting sinews and flesh echoed around them—mutated tissue regenerating before Luo Li’s eyes.

“I did it deliberately.”

“Imagining… being inside you.”

Luo Li retreated step by step, trapped inescapably in Agamemnon’s piercing gaze.

The man hooked a finger beneath his cheek, lifting it slightly.

“Andrei’s… stuff. You saw it, didn’t you?”

“You like it quite a bit, don’t you?”