The Retired CEO's Guide To Being Spoiled

Chapter 369: The Captive Entity

Just like a tightly stretched rope suddenly snapping, Julian’s consciousness was violently yanked back to reality by some invisible force.

He snapped his eyes open.

"Hah... hah..."

Julian’s chest heaved violently, his mouth open as he gasped for air like someone who had just narrowly escaped drowning at the bottom of a freezing ocean and finally breached the surface. His vision was blurred and swaying, cold sweat broke out, trickling down the sides of his temples and soaking the strands of hair that clung tightly to his deathly pale forehead.

His right hand was still fiercely gripping his own left wrist. He gripped it so tightly that his pale fingers showed protruding blue veins, his fingernails almost digging deep into his flesh, as if that spot still retained the burning, heavy sensation of a massive iron chain having just sliced across it.

Ethan was already right beside him, though it was unclear when he had gotten so close.

The man could not conceal his tension, his large, steady hands reached out to firmly hold Julian’s shoulders, preventing that slender body from trembling any further. The sweltering heat from Ethan’s palms transmitted through the thin layer of clothing, fiercely anchoring Julian back to the real world.

"Jules." Ethan’s voice was suppressed to the absolute limit, thoroughly hoarse: "Look at me, you are right here."

For the first few seconds, Julian’s brain completely stalled. His gaze was dull, his unfocused jet-black pupils darting around the warm, luxurious bedroom, yet what he actually saw overlapped with patches of dense, thick darkness. Which was reality? Which was the afterimage of the connection? He could not tell the difference. By his ears, the clinking, clanking sounds of chains violently colliding against the damp stone floor still seemed to echo, chillingly sharp to a horrifying degree.

Ethan did not rush him, the man wrapped one arm completely around Julian’s shoulder, while his other hand reached for the glass of warm water on the nightstand, bringing it right up to Julian’s lips.

"Drink a little."

Julian obediently opened his mouth, swallowing down each mouthful of warm water. The liquid flowed past his parched throat, carrying a touch of genuine temperature that helped awaken his paralyzed senses. He reached out a hand, intending to grasp the glass, but his ten fingers were still trembling so uncontrollably that he could not manage it. Seeing this, Ethan quietly withdrew the glass, setting it aside, and then wrapped both of his hands entirely around Julian’s ice-cold hands, warming them within his own grasp.

The atmosphere inside the room was incredibly heavy, so suffocating that even the sound of breathing became piercing to the ears.

It took a long while before Julian faintly blinked, the darkness at the bottom of his eyes gradually dissipated, reflecting the tense, deeply anxious, angular face of the man in front of him. He swallowed dryly, his voice coming out ragged and hoarse: "It was so dark... An iron-doored room. My wrists... hurt so much, it must be chained up. I heard the sound of iron chains grating against each other. And also... a voice." He took a deep breath, trying hard to suppress the tremor rising in his vocal cords, repeating every single word he had heard: "’Do not let it come into contact with anyone else ever again. Isolate it completely.’"

Julian looked up, staring intently straight into Ethan’s eyes. In that exact moment, a sharp glint flashed through the depths of Julian’s eyes, shattering the thick fog of panic, replacing it with a truth of a nature that entirely overturned all of their previous assumptions.

"Ethan..." Julian uttered in a hoarse voice, his fingers subconsciously digging tightly into the back of Ethan’s hand: "It is not out there."

"It is still being locked up."

At this moment, Ethan also began to calculate. Ever since learning the matters related to A-01 and B-00 from Julian, they had both assumed that B-00 was a dangerous entity that had escaped the encirclement of CORE, currently operating freely in the open and frantically hunting down Julian to perfect the Twin signal. They had defaulted to the belief that B-00 was the alpha monster, the most terrifying mastermind.

But now, that logic was completely turned upside down.

If B-00 was truly still imprisoned within a pitch-dark room, fully shackled and completely isolated just like what Julian had just experienced... Then the question that arose was, who exactly was the person standing in the shadows manipulating this chessboard?

Who was running CORE? Who was the one that sent those deeply cryptic threatening messages? Who had been behind the assassination attempts aimed at Julian?

If B-00 was also merely a miserable experimental subject, a piece of property, a biological weapon currently being controlled and exploited by another evildoer. Then their true enemy hid their face much deeper, was much more ruthless, and wielded vastly more terrifying power.

Julian closed his eyes, a chill running down his spine as he realized a truth even more horrifying than that.

"Ethan... that thing just now, it was absolutely not fragments of old memories."

Julian’s voice was so soft it seemed as though he was muttering to himself, yet every single word spoken weighed as heavily as a thousand pounds: "I think... I really just heard it."

It was not "seeing" a recorded piece of film from the past, but rather the consciousnesses of both sides had genuinely touched one another for a few brief seconds in this exact present space and time. Their frequencies had synchronized to the point that whatever B-00 was going through right at this very moment, Julian could also directly experience it.

He tilted his head back, resting lightly against the man’s sturdy chest, his eyes staring aimlessly into the void.

"It feels like it has been locked up for so long that it has completely forgotten what the outside world even is..." His voice was entirely dyed with bitterness and helplessness.

It was a primal sympathy, causing Julian to feel that B-00 was merely an entity lonely to the extreme, desperately clinging onto that faint, weak signal from Julian just to prove that it still existed.

Ethan furrowed his brows, his angular facial profile hardening.

He recognized the soft-heartedness, the pity that was gradually kindling within every spoken word and every breath Julian dedicated to B-00. The man suddenly thought that this was not necessarily good news.

Consequently, Ethan wrapped his arms around to tightly squeeze Julian’s waist, the application of force so great that it was somewhat rough, as if he wanted to embed Julian entirely into his own body. The man buried his head into the crook of Julian’s neck, speaking in a hoarse voice, every single word uttered heavily imbued with an extreme possessiveness: "I do not like that thing entering your head."

He did not care how pitiful B-00 was, he only cared that the person in his arms was enduring trauma and exhaustion because of it.

Julian blinked softly, his hand resting on the chest of Ethan’s shirt slowly caressing it, soothing the man’s frantically beating heart. He tilted his head slightly, rubbing his pale cheek against Ethan’s chin, responding with a very light sound: "Perhaps... I am also stepping into its world."

A two-way street. It stepped into him, and he, whether due to instinct or a thirst to understand his origins, was also subconsciously setting foot into its dark quagmire.

The tense atmosphere gradually settled down, giving way to a weary silence. Having gone through a high-intensity bout of resonance, Julian’s spirit seemed to have been completely drained. His complexion grew worse by the second, his eyelids heavy.

Ethan did not speak another word regarding this topic. He gently but decisively leaned down, slipping one hand under the back of Julian’s knees and using the other to support his back, steadily lifting him up into his arms right off the sofa.

The man placed Julian down onto the bed with the gentlest motions possible, exactly as though he were cherishing a fragile porcelain treasure. He turned into the bathroom to retrieve a warm towel, carefully wiping away the layer of cold sweat on Julian’s forehead and temples, before pouring another glass of warm water, coaxing him to take a few small sips to soothe his throat.

After completing everything, only then did Ethan take off his outer coat, get onto the bed, and pull the blanket up across both of their chests. He spread his arms wide, completely enveloping Julian into his broad, fiery embrace.

Julian resembled a small kitten that had finally found a completely safe haven, he automatically curled his body up, obediently resting his head against Ethan’s firm and solid chest. His ear pressed intimately against the left side of Ethan’s chest, precisely where Ethan’s heart was beating with powerful, steadfast, and overwhelmingly authentic rhythms. Thump... thump...

Ethan’s gaze softened into sheer, absolute tenderness. He leaned down, pressing a deep and lingering kiss against Julian’s forehead, a meaningful gesture that served as both a profound source of comfort and a solemn, unspoken vow. His large, steady hand slowly slipped into Julian’s soft hair, gently and rhythmically caressing every single strand, patiently coaxing Julian away from his distress and into a peaceful slumber.

As the late hours of the night gradually deepened, the vast surrounding world and everything within it surrendered entirely to a profound, tranquil silence.