The Rogue System [BL]

For a while, Eric kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Every time he managed to open his eyes, the world around him seemed to have changed. Nothing stayed still long enough for him to understand where he was or what was happening.

The first time, he saw a ceiling moving strangely above him, or perhaps it was his own vision that was moving. A pair of thick arms were wrapped tightly around him, holding him securely against a warm chest. He couldn’t make out the person’s face, and before he could think too much about it, darkness pulled him under again.

The next time he managed to open his eyes, he recognized the ceiling above him. It was the ceiling of his bridal bedroom.

Well... this scene seemed rather fitting, really.

Dying in his marriage bed on the very first day of his marriage.

Tsk. What an inauspicious thing to happen.

He almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, but even that tiny thought seemed to take too much effort.

Then the pain registered again.

It hurt everywhere.

There wasn’t a single place on his body that didn’t ache. His stomach burned from the inside, his chest felt tight, and even his arms and legs felt heavy and painful, as though someone had beaten every inch of him. Whenever he tried to breathe a little deeper, another wave of pain spread through his body. Even the smallest movement seemed to make everything hurt worse.

Whatever poison that woman had given him was certainly potent.

Eric tried to make sense of what was happening, but his thoughts were becoming slower and more scattered. He couldn’t hold onto one thought for more than a few seconds before it slipped away. The room around him became hazy, and slowly, he began losing all sense of reality.

His vision eventually faded into complete darkness.

Strangely, though, his ears remained active.

Through the darkness, Eric could faintly hear voices. One of them was Ryan’s. His usually calm voice sounded completely different now, hurried and strained as he ordered the servants around him. Eric could hear him telling someone to boil the medicine, followed by hurried footsteps and the clatter of things being moved around.

Everything sounded distorted, as though Ryan were speaking from very far away or Eric were buried deep underwater. He couldn’t make out every word, but he could still recognize that voice.

Ryan...

The thought barely formed before another wave of darkness swallowed it.

Soon, something warm touched his lips. A bitter liquid was carefully poured into his mouth.

Eric immediately spat it out.

"Ugh..." he mumbled weakly, his voice barely audible. "Who tries to poison a poisoned person again...?"

If that was what they called medicine, then he really preferred the poison. At least the poison had tasted sweet and delicious.

Unfortunately, whoever was trying to save him didn’t seem interested in hearing his opinion.

The spoon came back again, stubbornly prying his mouth open before another mouthful of the warm, bitter liquid was poured inside. Eric tried to spit it out once more, but this time, his body refused to cooperate. He barely had enough strength to move his tongue, let alone fight against the person trying to force the medicine down his throat.

The bitter liquid slid down before he could get rid of it.

Eric wanted to complain, but even opening his mouth felt exhausting.

With no other choice, he reluctantly swallowed the medicine.

Ugh...

Even while half-conscious, he couldn’t help thinking that whoever had invented medicine must have really hated people.

The horrible bitter taste lingered on his tongue as his consciousness slowly slipped away again, dragging him back into the darkness.

Ryan sat beside the bed, his gaze fixed on the blood-soaked figure of his new bride.

The flashy clothes Eric had been dressed in that morning were now completely stained with blood. The bright fabrics and expensive embroidery were almost unrecognizable beneath the dark red stains. Even the jewelry that had looked so ridiculous on Eric earlier seemed out of place now, resting against a body that had gone frighteningly still.

Eric’s face had lost all its color. He looked pale and bloodless, his lips no longer carrying the lively expression they usually had. After spitting out so much blood, even his breathing had become weak and slow.

Ryan clenched his teeth as he watched the faint rise and fall of Eric’s chest.

His gaze eventually shifted toward the closed door.

The princess had obviously poisoned him.

But by the time the servant had informed Ryan, it had already happened. There had been no warning, no time to stop anything. The only thing Ryan had seen was his new bride collapsing onto the ground, blood spilling uncontrollably from his mouth as his body weakened beneath him.

Ryan still didn’t know what had come over him at that moment.

He hadn’t stopped to think.

He hadn’t considered the consequences or what anyone else might think. The moment he saw Eric collapse, his body had simply moved on its own. He had immediately rushed forward, picked him up, carried him straight to the bed, and called for the doctors.

Everything else had become secondary.

He hadn’t noticed the servants rushing around him. He hadn’t cared about the blood soaking into his own clothes or staining his hands. He hadn’t even properly heard what the doctors were saying.

All he could see was the man in his arms growing weaker by the second.

The princess had cried and apologized, insisting that she had only been trying to help him. After all, she had said, this marriage had been bestowed upon Ryan by the Emperor to suppress him. There was no reason for Ryan to become attached to his new wife, and Eric was only supposed to be part of a political arrangement.

Ryan had only gritted his teeth at her words.

Whatever excuse she had given him, he didn’t want to hear it.

He had ordered her to leave immediately.

The princess had finally handed over the antidote with trembling hands before leaving the room. Ryan hadn’t wasted another second. He had immediately given the medicine to Eric and waited for it to take effect.

But instead of waking, Eric had collapsed completely.

Now he lay motionless against the bed, his body frighteningly still beneath the blankets.

Ryan sat beside him, watching every tiny movement of his chest. Each faint breath seemed to hold his attention. His eyes followed the smallest rise and fall, almost as though he needed to make sure Eric was still breathing every second.

It was painful to watch someone who had been so energetic only hours ago lying like this.

Eric had been loud, troublesome, shameless, and nearly impossible to control. He had complained about his clothes, complained about being trapped inside the residence, tried repeatedly to climb a two-story wall, and then shamelessly demanded that Ryan serve him fruit. He had even spent half the day plotting how to sneak outside just to eat candied fruit.

That was the Eric Ryan had seen only hours ago.

Now the same person couldn’t even open his eyes.

Ryan’s fingers slowly curled against his knee.

Watching that pale face and those weak breaths made something inside his chest tighten painfully. It felt as though an arrow had pierced straight through him, leaving a dull ache that he couldn’t explain.

His gaze eventually shifted toward the small table beside the bed.

The candied fruit sticks he had bought for Eric were still lying there.

The syrup coating them had begun to melt, leaving the sticks sticky against the plate. Ryan had bought them because he had thought Eric would be happy when he saw them. The man had wanted them so badly that he had nearly climbed over the walls of the residence for them.

Yet now they remained untouched.

Ryan stared at them for a long moment before his eyes slowly returned to the person lying on the bed.

The one who had craved those sweets so badly was now struggling just to breathe.

For some reason, that sight hurt even more.