An Luo noticed that Meieruita had relaxed considerably overall in the Underground Laboratory.
This manifested specifically as unreserved threats.
Unlike most people who became irritable, aggressive, and snappy when stressed and tense—especially due to their own weakness—Meieruita was the complete opposite.
When he felt strained, in a state of stress caused by his frailty, Meieruita appeared even more profound, reserved, calm, and detached on the surface.
Only in areas where he felt relaxed, or when he had some absolute certainty of victory, did he display overt aggression.
But such instances were rare. Most of the time, Meieruita was like a dark shadow, utterly steady.
There were simply too many powerhouses in this world, each a latent threat to him. Thus, even in his most relaxed moments, a thread of unease lingered at the bottom of his heart.
His childhood experiences had taught Meieruita that when one was still weak, they had to avoid the gaze of the strong, endure in silence, and hide away to survive.
It was as if a perpetually wound spring drove his body, propelling him like a tireless robot to endlessly pursue more knowledge and bolster his strength.
For example, his behavior inside the Wizard Tower.
Though he likely wanted very much to eliminate An Luo, he remained extremely forbearing on the surface, employing many soft approaches to try to gain An Luo’s trust.
But in the Underground Laboratory, where he felt a great sense of security, he no longer bothered with such comprehensive caution.
An Luo thought about this and felt a touch of emotion.
As for getting angry over Meieruita’s threats?
What was there to be angry about? An Luo instead saw it as Meieruita’s lively side.
Even a little cute.
Like an irritated pufferfish that “puffed” up into a spiky ball.
An Luo actually felt a bit tempted to poke at it.
But he didn’t dare.
Life only came once; there were no do-overs.
He cherished his life.
Because he was the protagonist An Luo himself had written, the character bio contained much unwritten content from the main story—including Meieruita’s childhood and experiences.
Out of an author’s fondness for the protagonist, An Luo always unconsciously indulged and understood Meieruita.
Perhaps after more time passed, and An Luo wrote more books with more protagonists, this feeling would fade. But as the lead of An Luo’s first book, Meieruita’s status remained the most special.
This subtle indulgence and understanding was something An Luo himself hadn’t noticed, but in Meieruita’s eyes, it was glaringly obvious.
Like the sun—impossible to ignore.
It even made him unable to resist probing An Luo’s limits.
Meieruita had deliberately used many maliciously provocative words, even before the soul transmission began.
This was an extremely dangerous gambit. If the roles were reversed, and Meieruita faced someone receiving his soul transmission yet still threatening him, he would retaliate during the process if his strength allowed.
If not, he would note the threat and avenge it later once stronger.
Meieruita was even somewhat expectant.
In a hidden corner of his heart, he eagerly hoped An Luo would reveal dark emotions like anger or disgust from his provocations.
Once An Luo showed even the slightest, most imperceptible tilt toward such emotions, it wouldn’t escape Meieruita’s notice.
This was the keen emotional perception honed from brushing past death countless times in his youth.
If An Luo showed disgust, that radiant sun would crack, no longer pressing down on Meieruita so suffocatingly.
He had a premonition: this was his only chance to break free from this Creator’s control.
Meieruita couldn’t see clearly what his heart truly desired.
He had deliberately orchestrated this entrapment due to An Luo’s indifference, but now he hoped An Luo would reveal something even colder and darker than indifference—to use it as leverage to escape.
But no matter what, breaking free from An Luo’s control would benefit him immensely.
Meieruita didn’t dwell on it.
With a contradictory mindset he couldn’t even explain to himself, he cast aside caution and provoked excessively.
He even unconsciously borrowed lines from the lowbrow scenes in that deluxe Knight Novel.
Trading all his knowledge and trump cards—laid bare to An Luo’s scrutiny—for a chance to escape this Creator’s grasp was absolutely worth it.
Not just worth it; it was a highly profitable deal.
He eagerly scanned for any reaction from An Luo, not missing even the tiniest muscle twitch.
However…
An Luo never showed the emotions Meieruita anticipated.
Not a trace.
His gray-green eyes, sharp as the keenest blades, scraped at An Luo for the subtlest malice.
But the Creator was flawless as porcelain. The blade tips scraped futilely across his soft, beautiful surface, yielding only harsh, grating friction.
Why doesn’t he hate me yet?
…Am I not being extreme enough?
A complex mix of disappointment and delight swirled in his heart. Meieruita furrowed his brows tightly.
An Luo was unaware of Meieruita’s various speculations and tests. After hearing Meieruita’s arrangements for sharing the bed overnight, he closed his eyes speechlessly.
Soon, he fell asleep in the comfortable bedding.
In the middle of the night, the narrow wooden bed creaked “creak creak.”
In his drowsy haze, An Luo felt intense pressure. The bed, perfect for one person, now felt impossibly cramped. At the same time, another person’s scent and body pressed inescapably close due to the limited space.
He opened his eyes.
Perhaps due to his personality, An Luo strongly disliked being too close to others.
He had certain requirements for personal space.
Sharing a room was tolerable—after all, Meieruita was always at the table studying Witchcraft knowledge. It was like An Luo’s old university roommates: cohabiting but non-intrusive.
That was barely acceptable.
But when sleeping, An Luo insisted on having a bed to himself.
Just the thought of sharing a bed with someone made him resistant.
His university roommates knew this quirk and tried talk therapy: “It’s normal not to want to sleep with guys—I don’t either. But imagine you’re married, sleeping with a soft, fragrant girl. Wouldn’t that be fine?”
An Luo imagined it, then revealed a pained expression moments later: “Looks like I’ll be single for life.”
His roommate: “…”
If a bed had to be shared by two, An Luo would rather sleep on the floor.
But the Underground Laboratory clearly lacked conditions for floor-sleeping.
Meieruita’s body heat seeped through the Wizard Robe. The nearly eighteen-year-old’s presence was overwhelmingly strong, making it impossible for An Luo to hypnotize himself into ignoring it.
This sensation of being pressed tightly against another person felt utterly foreign. An Luo felt deeply uncomfortable all over.
A bitter, ashy scent enveloped him—Meieruita’s smell.
It carried the chill and dampness of the Underground Laboratory.
An Luo wriggled a few times but ultimately found it unbearable. He tried to crawl out of the covers and cede the entire bed.
“Where are you going?”
An Luo’s shoulder was pressed down, and Meieruita’s clear, calm voice sounded.
“I’m going down there,” An Luo replied. “I can’t sleep with others.”
Everyone had their habits and preferences; An Luo didn’t think there was anything wrong with stating it.
“The bed’s too narrow?” Meieruita asked.
“No.” An Luo shook his head. “I just can’t stand lying on the same bed with anyone. Even a king-size wouldn’t work.”
“Then, when maids serve you, do you demand they leave immediately after?”
Meieruita lowered his gaze, his tone calm. “Or are they acceptable?”
An Luo: “…”
This was too absurd.
“Uh, first off, I don’t have maids. I’m just an ordinary guy—where would I get maids from?”
“Besides, even employers who can afford maids back home wouldn’t make such outrageous, filthy demands of them.”
“Finally, my aversion is equal opportunity—no distinction for gender, age, or anything. I just need my own bed alone. No one else.”
Except kittens.
Cats weren’t people, after all.
Such adorable killers were irresistible, even to An Luo, who tolerated no one beside him on his bed.
He propped himself up on the bed frame. The old wooden bed rocked easily. “I’ve slept alone since I was six. It’s habit after all these years.”
“It’s not disdain for you—just my personal quirk.”
An Luo left the warm covers. The chilly air of the underground cavern made him shiver; his bare legs instantly prickled with goosebumps.
He struggled off the bed, tearfully bidding farewell to the cozy nest, slipped into his shoes, and hurried in double steps to the nearly extinguished fire. He quickly added wood, reviving it.
His own clothes were still damp and cold to the touch—probably not wearable until tomorrow.
With the new fuel, the flames roared up, and the molten heat gradually dispelled the chill. But with only one fire, his back remained cold. An Luo felt like a pancake, flipping sides periodically for even toasting.
Soon, though, he heard the creak of the dilapidated wooden bed behind him.
Looking back, Meieruita had gotten off.
A spark of hope rose in An Luo’s heart: Would the protagonist decide to go back to studying knowledge and let me have the bed?
What a beautiful thought.
But no.
Meieruita began unbuttoning his Wizard Robe.
An Luo: o.O…?
What was this?
He watched blankly, unable to fathom Meieruita’s intent.
Soon, the black Wizard Robe was shed, revealing pale skin. The muscles of his chest and abdomen formed sleek, attractive lines—powerful yet not bulky, perfectly matching An Luo’s aesthetic.
An Luo glanced a few extra times.
Perhaps due to his precocious setting, Meieruita lacked the undeveloped thinness of a near-adult youth. He already looked like a fully matured young man.
“Give me your shirt,” Meieruita said concisely. “If you’re dead set against getting back on the bed, take this Wizard Robe to wear.”
Wizard Robes had excellent insulation. An Luo didn’t hesitate and started unbuttoning.
As for embarrassment…
He was freezing to death—who cared?
Meieruita turned his head aside, his gray-green eyes fixed on a section of stone wall.
“Done.”
The Wizard Robe draped over his arm was snatched away, replaced by a thin shirt still bearing residual warmth.
The temperature wasn’t high—just faintly warm.
Yet Meieruita suddenly felt that the skin touching the shirt burned with an intolerable heat.
