Pretend to be crazy

Warren didn’t understand what Shen Yan meant and narrowed his eyes, exuding a dangerous aura. “I’m giving you a chance to explain.”

Shen Yan shrugged. “Didn’t Ruan Zhixian already tell you? I’m just a fraud. I tricked you into getting me the bomb, fooled you into helping me kill him. Even my identity as the deputy director of the Rose Research Institute was just to deceive those two researchers. If you don’t believe me, ask Blaze.”

At the mention of Blaze’s name, Warren’s gaze flickered slightly. The strength of his grip on Shen Yan’s neck loosened a bit as he lowered his eyes, lost in thought.

Warren was easy to fool. His three years at the research institute had caused his body to develop rapidly, but his mind had not kept pace. As long as his bottom line wasn’t crossed, he was nothing more than a fierce-looking, socially trained German Shepherd.

Unfortunately, his bottom line was his imagined lover, and Shen Yan had trampled all over that red line the very first day they met.

Sensing Warren’s emotional shift, Shen Yan gently cupped the hand gripping his throat and coaxed softly, “I was wrong to deceive you. Every day since then, I’ve been restless with guilt. We haven’t spent much time together, but even from our brief interactions, I know what a good person you are.”

Warren’s grip loosened further.

Shen Yan boldly guided Warren’s hand downward, and Warren didn’t resist. His gaze was clouded with confusion, looking as if he were about to be completely swayed.

“Besides, how can you be so sure that a liar has no sincerity?” Shen Yan pressed on, deliberately setting a sentimental tone. “Warren, the moment I saw you standing alive in front of me, when those cold words turned into reality, you were no longer just a tool.”

Warren hesitated. “I…”

Shen Yan wouldn’t give him time to think. He placed a finger against Warren’s lips, locking eyes with him and whispering, “The beginning doesn’t matter, nor does the process. What matters is the result, right?”

“You need a lover, and my story just happens to fulfill your needs. Your often-empty soul finds solace in it. You no longer have to chase after a blurred shadow in your dreams, tormented by your inability to find or reach it.”

“There are 10.2 billion people on Black Star. Every moment, there are new births and deaths. Even the rarest probability can occur—let alone the chance of finding someone who matches my description.”

“Until you find the person you truly love, I can play that role for you,” Shen Yan said, his expression showing just the right amount of sorrow. “I know you don’t really love me, but… as long as you’re happy.”

He paused subtly before adding, “Of course, if you’re still not satisfied, you can kill me anytime.”

Using the same trick again, he guided Warren’s hand back to his throat, smiling with a mix of resignation and submission.

“I can’t help it. I’m too weak.”

In the original story, under Ruan Zhixian’s influence, Warren had become a psychopath who found pleasure in killing.

Only blood and violence could soothe the pain of his “unrequited love.”

Yet, contradictorily, his time at the military academy had instilled in him a basic sense of order.

He protected the weak.

He was indifferent to life and death, but he never touched those without offensive capabilities.

…Whenever he encountered them, Falson would finish the job.

Shen Yan, a healthy man over 1.8 meters tall, could hardly be considered weak.

So, he had to manually adjust that perception.

The room fell silent, but the tense atmosphere from earlier had dissipated.

After a long pause, Warren clenched his jaw and said, “Not killing you… was that part of your calculations too?”

Shen Yan pressed his lips together, looking a little hurt. “Warren, don’t be like this.”

Warren took two steps back, moving to the window as he sorted out his thoughts.

Shen Yan exhaled silently.

Talk therapy worked well.

This would keep Warren preoccupied for a while.

Being pinned against the wall by a two-meter-tall modified human was still scary, no matter how much Shen Yan had acclimated to this world’s daily chaos.

Maybe he had just gotten used to the constant adrenaline rush. The feeling of his heart racing and his back breaking into a cold sweat faded quickly.

He began calculating his next moves.

Warren was only temporarily placated. Since Ruan Zhixian had already dug up the ship’s surveillance and communication records, he could also unearth footage of him living underground with Blaze.

Blaze was the only person in this world he had genuinely trusted and treated with sincerity. Placing real and fake emotions side by side made the difference too obvious. If that footage was sent to Warren…

Oh.

He sighed internally. Ruan Zhixian must have done the same thing with Falson.

Comparing people is infuriating. Shen Yan’s relationship with Falson was far worse than with Blaze. Before, he could at least comfort himself by blaming his own unlikable nature, but after seeing Blaze, Falson would probably lose it completely.

As the undisputed “most shameless” member of Ruan Zhixian’s team, he might even fantasize about keeping him leashed like a pet.

At this point, pretending to be sincere was pointless. It wouldn’t be convincing, and more importantly, there wasn’t enough time—it would only make things worse.

At this moment, if he showed even a hint of fear, hesitation, or friendliness merely to survive, he would be completely at Falson’s mercy. Falson would then take advantage of him, make even more excessive demands, and ultimately kill him out of boredom.

So what’s worse? Taking another beating?

No, that wouldn’t work. Falsson’s mindset had shifted—he no longer saw him as a mother figure and probably wouldn’t obediently endure a beating anymore.

The first option was slow suicide, the second was instant death.

Not much difference.

Then what should he do? Let Warren take over? Look for a chance to escape?

He tried that yesterday. He had no access to open windows or doors, nor the ability to forcefully break them.

Besides, doing so would mean stepping out of Ruan Zhixian’s game. Even if he buried himself in a hole, Ruan Zhixian would still drag him back to continue playing.

Difficult, very difficult.

Was there anything he could use?

The villa had three floors above ground and two below. He hadn’t had time to explore them yesterday with everything going on—he should check them out with Warren later.

It was only the second day. For the sake of entertainment, Ruan Zhixian wouldn’t reveal all his cards at once. Until today ended, Warren was safe. Tomorrow? That was uncertain.

“Shen Yan.”

His thoughts were interrupted. He instinctively responded and turned to look at the man speaking to him.

Warren was tall and broad-shouldered, standing by the window and almost completely blocking the light. He gazed over without much expression, exuding an intimidating presence simply by being there.

He smiled at him.

“You and I both have something we need.” Warren walked up to him. “You can use me however you like, drive me as you please. In return, you’ll be my lover—spin your stories well until I really find that person.”

Shen Yan feigned a bitter smile, but his conman’s instincts swiftly transformed that bitterness into joy and admiration. Layers of deception stacked upon each other, blurring the line between pretense and reality.

Ever since receiving the message, Warren had been thinking—thinking about everything. His mind was filled with Shen Yan.

He could even picture him in his military academy uniform, tall and spirited, smiling as he leaned in to kiss him.

For now, he couldn’t let him go.

So, he’d keep up the act.

Warren stared at his deceitful lover, cupped Shen Yan’s chin, and lightly brushed his lips against the corner of his mouth.

Shen Yan turned his head away, a blush creeping from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. His lips accidentally grazed Warren’s fingertips as he looked up at him and murmured, “There are people outside.”

Warren was surprised at how quickly Shen Yan got into character. His heart cooled slightly, yet he couldn’t resist the allure of his shy, adorable expression. Instinctively, he leaned in to kiss his ear. “Don’t you love this? You always get so excited, clinging to me…”

Shen Yan closed his eyes.

Bro, can you stop adding scenes for yourself?

Shen Yan pressed a hand against his face, pushing him back slightly. Then, he stuck out his tongue, revealing something on the tip.

Warren paused and pinched Shen Yan’s tongue, his rough fingers brushing over the metal ring. He chuckled, “You got this yourself? Looks good.”

Shen Yan’s tongue tingled from being held. He frowned and pushed Warren away, but when he couldn’t, he had to mumble an explanation about how the branding mechanism worked.

Warren, however, was focused solely on his tongue, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his voice turned husky. “Then just one kiss.”

Without waiting for a response, he kissed him.

Warren’s kiss was light at first, just a slow brush against Shen Yan’s lips. When he sensed resistance, he pressed down harder, punishingly biting at his lower lip, sending a slight sting through the skin.

Shen Yan stopped struggling, going stiff and unresponsive—mostly worried about things escalating.

Yesterday, he had checked his bedroom. There were cameras at the headboard, under the bed, and in the corners of the ceiling. Except for the bathroom, it was a full 360-degree surveillance setup.

This room was likely no different.

He couldn’t understand why Ruan Zhixian enjoyed playing such a dangerously unpredictable game.

Watching someone he’d slept with kiss someone else—even if their relationship was just… casual—shouldn’t that be at least a little uncomfortable?

What was this? Putting a hat on himself? Was he into vibrant colors?

Or was this some bizarre kink the original story never mentioned, something he was now discovering?

Annoyed, Shen Yan grew more frustrated with Warren’s forceful kissing. He bit him a little harder.

Warren flinched but still refused to let go. He dragged out the kiss, slow and blood-tinged, before finally ending it.

Satisfied, he rubbed against Shen Yan’s face. “Did the number change?”

Shen Yan showed him. Warren stared at the glowing red “1” and regretfully let go.

He knew nothing about these things. He got flustered listening to Shen Yan talk dirty, but when it came down to actually doing it, he probably wouldn’t even know where to start.

Thankfully, he was only interested in kissing. Otherwise, Shen Yan might not have been able to leave this room today.

Damn cyberworld. Damn terrifying protagonist group.

He sighed internally.

Reluctantly, Warren released him and went into the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing through the space.

Shen Yan wiped his mouth and was about to leave the bedroom to explore elsewhere. But as he reached the door, a thought struck him.

He turned back.

On the nightstand sat a decorative bouquet of roses, their petals vivid and dewy. Hidden among the real flowers was a rose-shaped camera, silently recording everything that had just transpired—along with the other cameras in the room.

He picked up one of the roses, bringing it casually to his lips and planting a light kiss on it.

One hand in his pocket, his smile curled into something wicked.

“Ruan Zhixian, enjoying the show?”