Chapter 20: Three Spectators

If Supernatural Abilities were likened to a dish, each one could be broken down into components.

Take 【Peach Fragrance】, for example. It could actually be dissected into mental inducement, desire amplification, and physiological stimulation. The latter two were the main course on the plate—dual stimulation of mind and body to incite lust. The first part brought the enticing side effect of submission.

That part was like the garnish that gilded the lily on the plate. It required inhaling extremely high concentrations of the gas to take effect. For someone without that inherent kink, suddenly forcing unconditional obedience to another person was akin to brainwashing from nothing. At Ji Yu’s level, it was impossible against an S-Grade.

But under the influence of 【Forbidden Fruit】, the normally useless first part of 【Peach Fragrance】 was directly excised. The ability user’s self-protection mechanisms and autonomous control over the Supernatural Ability were thoroughly cleared out. The “space” freed up was all funneled into boosting the latter two parts. Paired with the inherent enhancement effects of a Super A-Grade support-type Supernatural Ability just shy of S-Grade, all these buffs finally allowed 【Peach Fragrance】 to glimpse the edge of S-Grade power.

At this point, it was less Ji Yu’s Supernatural Ability and more a creation forged by Lin Xun using 【Peach Fragrance】 as raw material. Ji Yu was like someone who had swallowed a forbidden fruit—until Lin Xun “reverted” him, he could only serve as a pure generator of the new 【Peach Fragrance】, unable to control himself, unable to stop, tormented by waves of lust all the while.

And Ji Yu’s self-preserving suggestion to test Wen Jiang with the Supernatural Ability did hold some reference value. In theory, Wen Jiang—now saturated with the new 【Peach Fragrance】—should be in a state where both his body and mind had their desires amplified.

If Wen Jiang had no one he liked, this was pure lust assault; in his muddled state, he’d collapse into anyone’s arms indifferently. If he did have someone he liked—though the other three found the idea both corny and hilarious—true love was always like that, wasn’t it?

Only reacting to you. Only wanting to do it with you. Getting more excited facing you. And so on.

Regardless of reality, with inner desires amplified by the Supernatural Ability, it was indeed easier to expose one’s crush and hidden kinks.

However, Jiang Hehu stood by with a furrowed brow, convinced that Wen Tianlu and Lin Xun were just messing around.

After all, anyone with a brain knew the text message was fake. Like him? No way.

Have some self-respect. Waking up to find out Wen Jiang had always liked him? Where was the spark? A few private words exchanged? Was he supposed to delude himself that it was love at first sight, a secret pining no one noticed?

They’d just lacked an opportunity, and Ji Yu had provided it. Ji Yu had seemed to think they meant to turn Wen Jiang into a toy marked with a number on its body. When no one objected, he’d nearly wept with joy, trembling as he offered several “suggestions”—so they’d simply shut his mouth.

“…So what now?” Jiang Hehu leaned irritably against the doorframe. “Can we stop standing around like idiots? This is all your mess.”

Wen Tianlu glanced at Jiang Hehu with half surprise, half amusement, and pointed out, “But Hehu, you came along too.”

“Don’t lump me in with you,” Jiang Hehu snapped back, visibly pissed. “I just want to see if he’s that pathetic. If you two are about to do something disgusting, I’m out.”

“What a coincidence. I’m just curious what he’ll do, too.” Wen Tianlu smiled back.

If shit really hits the fan, you gonna leave him hanging? Jiang Hehu nearly cursed aloud, frustration boiling over as he kicked the doorframe. It boomed with a bang!, but Wen Jiang seemed deaf to it. After stomping Ji Yu back inside and shutting the door, he still stood before the bathroom, ignoring the noise Jiang Hehu made.

Logically, only a few seconds had passed? But it felt infuriatingly long to Jiang Hehu.

Did 【Peach Fragrance】 really turn an S-Grade into a puddle of water, ripe for the taking? Xie Qi and Wen Tianlu wouldn’t. Even if Ji Yu had somehow succeeded back then, he wouldn’t get what he wanted—before that, the cold wave would erupt, leaving him without even the right to beg on his knees.

Jiang Hehu was certain he could twist Ji Yu’s head off himself.

And Wen Jiang—precariously balanced between untouchable and easily crushed—made many things subconsciously unthinkable. No point dwelling; no answers anyway.

Jiang Hehu bit his lower lip in agitation. He was curious about Wen Jiang’s reaction and knew 【Drama Stage】 couldn’t brute-force an escape, but… fuck. If Wen Jiang really fell for it and turned into one of those little celebrities in Lin Xun’s pocket, that’d be too disgusting!

How could an S-Grade be this useless…? How could Wen Jiang end up like that?

…So noisy.

The heated internal turmoil, the pointless bickering for venting—Wen Jiang didn’t shift his gaze, but he sensed people talking nearby, like flies buzzing around his ears.

His right hand stayed in his pocket, hiding his movements and the readings on his wristband.

In those especially, especially drawn-out ten-plus seconds, some elusive, imperceptible presence finally breached the blocker, enveloping the entire space.

【Drama Stage】—a Supernatural Ability with two traits rated at the highest level: concealment and synergy.

Hard to trace, hard to detect, with exquisitely fine control.

High compatibility with nearly all Supernatural Abilities. The last time its synergy shone was in a long-term group project with Lin Wenzhi, combining 【Drama Stage】 and 【Wonderful Pen Produces Flowers】 to recreate the ability described in a book: 【Causal Butterfly】.

Now, the wild, chaotic other Supernatural Ability had successfully affected Wen Jiang, making his body feverish, thoughts sluggish, the world distorted. His own ability stirred restlessly, like a membrane of water cloaking his ears.

…Not impossible to assimilate.

Just too noisy. While countering 【Peach Fragrance】, he also drew power from it, synergizing and converting. Wen Jiang adjusted his breathing, exhaling softly. A flood of information surged into his brain.

Expressions, body language, breathing, all the overt reactions in daily life.

“Uh, how about…” A hint of hesitation, tension, a buried eagerness mixed with reluctance to admit it—the speaker paused before continuing, “I take a look?”

“Heh…” A faint chuckle. The second person spotted the first’s inner conflict, amused enough to laugh, but deeper down, bored by the predictable outcome.

The other was actually dissatisfied, but mired in too much sludge, refusing to show it—instead, he went along: “Sure, take a look.”

“Bored out of my mind.” The third voice was the opposite—low volume, but brimming with unmasked anger. The complaint lacked a clear target, laced with underlying unease.

Just three. Manageable, but hot. A quicker fix would be…

Gripping the thread of reason amid the lustful vortex, Wen Jiang finally moved again. Earlier, as a precaution, he’d set Xie Qi as his emergency contact—now it actually came in handy. He blindly pressed the preset key, pulled out his phone, and said to the connected line, “Come here.”

He pocketed the phone and turned, locking eyes with the others in the living room.

Lin Xun, up front, had been about to make excuses but shut his mouth instinctively when Wen Jiang looked his way.

【Peach Fragrance】 incited desire, interacting with 【Drama Stage】 to subtly shift Wen Jiang’s focus in gathering intel.

Three people. Three spectators. Three kinds of…”preferences.”

Wen Jiang’s expression was neutral, his physiological lust reactions barely visible. His skin remained fair, like ice that never melted, tinged with just a faint flush. He blinked slowly, gaze settling on Lin Xun, then let out a soft laugh, his brows gaining an oddly alluring vibrancy.

First one down. “Come here.” Same tone as before, tail end lilting up.

Lin Xun froze, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard—the sound echoed loudly in the quiet room, embarrassing him suddenly.

An “invitation”?

—No.

That gaze… impossible to look away from.

Wen Tianlu stayed silent, a faint displeasure leaking out. Jiang Hehu muttered something from behind, but Lin Xun didn’t catch it, too distracted.

Only effective on me…?

No one behind seemed to notice anything off, yet faint, thread-like traces had already coiled around Lin Xun, instinctively signaling danger. But the Wen Jiang in his vision drew closer. Lin Xun reacted after two seconds, realizing he was the one stepping forward, uncontrollably drawn by some invisible pull.

What was Wen Jiang… performing? Speech still his own, Lin Xun’s mouth opened dryly: “Uh, you okay…?”

“Shut up.”

Words vanished from his tongue. The other’s hand seized his tie, yanking him back against the bathroom doorframe.

The forceful move, the icy tone, and that face—dazzlingly vivid now, perfectly hooking his tastes.

The contradictory fusion sparked thrilling novelty, like his “ideal type” perfectly manifested. For a fleeting moment, Lin Xun realized this surging emotion and exaggerated phrasing stemmed from the Supernatural Ability—but the next second, fingers clamped his jaw hard, snuffing all sparks.

Had… he done this to me before?

In a daze, Wen Jiang’s other hand gripped Lin Xun’s wrist, forcing it from his pocket. The other’s fingertips burned hot and soft against his skin, issuing an irrefusable command. Lin Xun’s fingers twitched; the small blocker controller clattered to the floor helplessly.

No bolstering the inhibitor anymore.

A soft laugh rang in his ear. Like a traveler parting frost to reveal a breathtaking snow lotus in full bloom, the other’s lips parted—endearingly intimate, casually indifferent, loftily superior—commenting on his sneaky attempt to hit the control switch: “Rat.”

Breathing grew heavy. Unlike the spectacle from afar, this was a more intimate heat.

But the next instant, the pulling force flipped to a mighty shove. His back slammed the door with a clang!, yet no further contact—his body toppled backward in aching emptiness.

Wait, behind me is—!

Wen Jiang hadn’t shut the door properly. Bewilderment lingered on Lin Xun’s face as he tumbled straight into the bathroom, thick with overripe peach scent—landing squarely on Ji Yu.

Fuck! The soft, mud-like body beneath wriggled joyfully at the touch, moaning in delight. Lin Xun’s scalp prickled, revulsion surging even as the high concentration wrapped him tight, his skin flushing honestly.

This time, Wen Jiang shut the door with a flat bang, sealing in the hazy, intoxicating fog. He glanced down, stomped the controller at his feet—crunch—wrecking the switch.

Ten seconds, Wen Jiang thought.

The mental fog and bodily discomfort frayed his usual rationality. After the thought, he didn’t grasp the “ten seconds'” meaning.

He’d briefly weighed some actions’ pros and cons earlier, but they dissolved in the chaotic heat, leaving only preset steps.

…Whatever. The stage was set—why let the audience flee?

The Supernatural Ability surged silently once more. Wen Tianlu’s gaze had just left the door when intrigue reignited in his eyes—then his breath hitched.

Ten seconds.

Utterly unlike facing Lin Xun. Something darker, deeper approached. Space constricted oppressively. Wen Jiang’s presence minimized, like he’d melted into midnight shadows.

Endless blackness spread out, devouring all light and sound. Wen Tianlu slammed straight into the depths of Wen Jiang’s pupils, suddenly feeling himself engulfed by thick darkness. His pupils contracted sharply.

Slap!

A crisp sound rang out in the empty room. Wen Jiang, who had approached, swiftly raised his hand and delivered a vicious slap across Wen Tianlu’s face.

Six seconds.

Just one left.

Jiang Hehu’s eyes widened round in shock as he watched Wen Tianlu’s face twist to the side from the slap. For once, he was caught off guard, stunned.

But an eerie sense of crisis jolted him back. Jiang Hehu staggered back a step, like some animal instinctively trying to intimidate after being startled. “What the hell? You wanna fight?!”

The final personal preference—the most straightforward one: the way they wanted to be treated by him.

“Don’t think for a second that just ’cause you’re like this, I’ll go easy—” Jiang Hehu’s bluster cut off in the next second, like a tape suddenly jammed in the player. He froze in place. Contrary to all expectations, for the first time in his life, Wen Jiang’s hand gently rested on his head.

Slender, pale fingers with distinct knuckles brushed through his hair, carrying a calm, gentle aura. Wen Jiang affectionately ruffled it, then gave a light, playful pat—half teasing, half encouraging.

“—!”

From his neck to his ears, Jiang Hehu’s skin flushed a solid crimson.

Three seconds.

“…Ha.” Wen Tianlu suddenly laughed.

Two seconds.

The temperature in the entire room plummeted. Water in the pipes froze solid in an instant, and frost condensed in the air.

A faint metallic tang of blood filled his mouth. That slap had been merciless, leaving his entire left cheek numb and burning. Wen Tianlu’s face darkened as he prodded the painful inner side with his tongue—the soft tissue had torn. Violent winds and snow gathered in his pupils.

One second.

Wen Tianlu seemed about to say something, but in the next instant, he whipped his head away. Ice crystals erupted from the floor, only to be shredded apart in moments by raging gales.

Time was up.

“…What the hell did you do to him?” The voice carried the most savage, chaotic fury of the night. The newcomer was like a vengeful demon straight from hell.

Air currents exploded outward from around Wen Jiang, brutally shoving everyone nearby away. The room’s windows shattered in an instant.

Jiang Hehu toed the ground, sliding back a good distance before stopping. Wen Tianlu’s expression was blank as he erected an ice shield. After three layers were sliced open by wind blades, he twisted aside, dodging the strike while dozens of ice spikes floated into the air. They shot toward Xie Qi like invisible arrows at speeds the eye couldn’t track—only to be completely blocked by a wind field that warped the laws of physics.

The pressure from two Combat System S-Grades erupted on the fifth floor simultaneously, instantly blanketing the entire venue. Down in the first-floor lobby, someone suddenly paled, struggling to breathe from the battle’s aftershocks, their legs giving out as they slumped to the ground.

On the fifth floor, Wen Jiang stood calmly in place, utterly unaffected by the clash.

Hmm… He blinked. Amid the intertwining winds and ice, he finally caught on, a beat late, with sudden realization: his “ten seconds” had been a countdown for Xie Qi’s arrival.