Why Do All the Villains Look at Me Like This? - Chapter 22

The young man’s fingernails dug into the fabric, and Meng Xuexiao felt a faint sting. He instinctively shifted his shoulder, but he couldn’t break free at all. That small movement seemed to trigger something in Shen Zekai, because his grip only tightened and grew heavier.

“I told you before, if you were in trouble, you had to tell me. And you? I thought we were…”

“We were…”

Shen Zekai seemed to choke up at that point, but there were simply too many emotions rushing into his mind, overwhelming his ability to process them. In the end, he could only settle for a safe, but not inaccurate, word—

“I thought we were best friends!”

When Colonel Shen had told him to protect Meng Xuexiao, Shen Zekai had been full of confidence.

He was Meng Xuexiao’s senior, one of the top students at the Federal Military Academy, and the student representative. He had every confidence that he could keep Meng Xuexiao safe under his wing.

But everything that had happened recently had shattered that confidence to pieces.

“Do you know what that feels like? I had to hear from other people—other people—that your grades were tampered with by Wu Zian, that the Theory Instructor was giving you a hard time, that Wu Zian came to your door to corner you!”

“He even punched a huge dent in the wall!” Shen Zekai couldn’t stop himself from pointing at the damaged wall, even his fingertips trembling.

Wu Zian is like a mad bull. Once he goes berserk, not even ten people could stop him. During a training session with a teacher once, he got so worked up and immersed in the fight that he actually injured the Instructor!

Shen Zekai didn’t even dare to imagine what would’ve happened if that punch had actually landed on Meng Xuexiao. What kind of state would Meng Xuexiao be in now?

Suddenly, as if something just occurred to him, Shen Zekai frantically started tugging at Meng Xuexiao’s clothes. His abrupt movements startled Meng Xuexiao, who instinctively pulled back, but was quickly yanked back by the shoulder. Shen Zekai tore open his collar, his movements were so rough that a few buttons popped off and scattered across the floor with a sharp clatter.

Meng Xuexiao was genuinely frightened, panicked as he tried to pry Shen Zekai’s hand off his shoulder, but it was already too late.

His smooth, pale skin was exposed to the air, like flawless jade. The chill in the air made Meng Xuexiao shiver involuntarily, but Shen Zekai’s face broke into a look of relief and joy.

In the next second, he suddenly slumped as if all the strength had left his body, pulling Meng Xuexiao tightly into an embrace, resting his forehead against the boy’s chest.

“Thank goodness… Thank goodness… You’re not hurt anywhere else. If you were…”

If you were… he would’ve died of guilt.

Injured…?

So the reason why Shen Zekai just lost his temper… was because he was worried that he might be hurt?

Meng Xuexiao, who had originally been trying to pry Shen Zekai’s hand away, paused for a moment, then let his own hand fall naturally.

Well, that made sense. As a student representative, Shen Zekai was indeed known for his exceptionally good temper on campus, always warm and friendly and constantly helping others.

Meng Xuexiao thought back to the first time they met, how Shen Zekai had fearlessly stepped in to shield him from the Enforcer.

Someone like that… probably saw any injury that happened in front of him as his own responsibility, right?

Just like the police officers in Meng Xuexiao’s original world, before he transmigrated into the book.

He looked at Shen Zekai, who was now so close. The young man was tall and solid, gripping his shoulders tightly, but his strong arms were trembling ever so slightly.

If someone didn’t know better, they’d think it was Shen Zekai who was under pressure, not Meng Xuexiao.

And yet, Shen Zekai wasn’t even that much older…

If they were in Meng Xuexiao’s world, Shen Zekai would probably still just be a college student, only worrying about exams and job prospects…

It really must be because this world was a high-risk one. The people who lived here were forced to grow up faster than others, and to shoulder far heavier burdens.

Someday, Shen Zekai would definitely become a soldier as outstanding as his father, Colonel Shen.

Truly… a person worthy of heartfelt admiration.

Meng Xuexiao gripped Shen Zekai’s shoulder, even his movements taking on a kind of solemn sincerity, “Don’t worry. I won’t let you worry about me anymore.”

“Thank you… for caring about me so much.”

Meng Xuexiao couldn’t help but feel like he’d been dragging Shen Zekai down.

Someone like Shen Zekai should be focusing on bigger, farther-reaching goals, like training, or academics, so that, on the federal battlefield of the future, he could fully unleash his potential and save even more lives. Instead of paying excessive attention and time to him out of friendship or roommate sentiment, Shen Zekai should be focusing on more important things.

Meng Xuexiao thought, I should be more careful from now on. If there’s something Shen Zekai doesn’t need to know, I just won’t let him find out. Otherwise, with his sense of justice, he’s bound to step in. I shouldn’t trouble him anymore.

Shen Zekai, following the pressure on his shoulder, looked up, and saw Meng Xuexiao’s long, curled lashes and that face so close to his own. The boy was looking at him with utmost seriousness. His eyes were like semi-transparent glass beads, clearly reflecting Shen Zekai’s silhouette.

He was thanking him. He said he wouldn’t let him worry anymore.

Shen Zekai’s face flushed red all at once.

H-He was the one who lost his temper and yelled at Meng Xuexiao, even grabbed and tore his clothes… W-Why is Meng Xuexiao thanking him?!

On reflex, he reached out to cover the boy’s mouth, but his palm inevitably brushed against Meng Xuexiao’s breath. His fingers trembled at the warmth, and his face turned even redder.

“You… y-you can’t talk like that again,” Shen Zekai said, his voice so small it was barely audible.

Then he lowered his head—and caught sight of the aftermath of his earlier outburst. The undershirt had lost several buttons and now hung loosely on Meng Xuexiao, faintly revealing his delicate collarbones.

Shen Zekai didn’t dare look anymore. He forced his gaze to the ground and, flustered, began helping straighten Meng Xuexiao’s clothes, “Clothes like this… you can’t wear them anymore, they’re too loose. One tug and they fall apart. What if you run into a pervert…”

“I know a brand that makes really durable ones…”

Ten thousand kilometers away, deep beneath the sea—

The deeper the seawater, the colder it became. Until, at the very bottom, even the ocean currents seemed to have stopped flowing entirely. The lowest layer of the sea was ice. Solid, cold, reflecting a light that scarcely existed in the deep sea. Jagged ice shards protruded upward like sculptures crafted by some ancient artist, silently existing here for millennia.

If a human expedition passed by, they’d no doubt approach eagerly to salvage it out of curiosity. But the fierce beasts that lurked on the ocean floor didn’t dare draw near, from a distance—they paused, tails swaying, their bodies slightly lowered, as if performing some ancient rite of reverence.

The glowing object looked like a fish scale, suspended in a fully transparent bubble, yet pulsing with vigorous energy—like a malformed heart, dirty and unnatural. Only after this reverent gesture did the sea beast turn slowly and begin to back away, retreating thousands of meters before it finally departed in silence.

“Rumble—”

A tremor came from a cave hidden deep within the ice shards. Flakes of frost shook loose, mixing into the water like diamond-dust. The temperature inside the cave dropped even lower, the light growing dimmer—yet still, something deep inside seemed to emit a faint glow.

Then suddenly, the bubble was gripped by a man’s hand—slender but jointed, clearly male—and crushed without mercy. The bubble twisted and deformed under the pressure, and the glowing scale inside lost all vitality, as if its throat had been abruptly strangled.

“Such a violent reaction… That makes two now.” A low male voice echoed.

At a banquet or on the red carpet, such a voice would have been wildly adored, but here in the deep sea, it carried an inexplicable eeriness. As His voice faded, the surrounding light gradually brightened, as if the darkness from moments before had been consumed by something even more terrifying.

A man sat there with his eyes closed, silver hair cascading loosely down to his waist. His posture was completely relaxed, and his silver lashes shimmered like snow that would never melt, even over ten thousand years.

In the next instant, he casually tightened his fingers around the bubble and flung it aside. The bubble crashed heavily against a jagged shard of ice, trembling dangerously—but did not burst.

It landed atop a pile of other bubbles, bouncing slightly. The one beneath it was affected too, squashed just a little.

If one looked closely, they’d see that the other bubbles also contained the same type of glowing fish scale. Some were just as radiant, others were still dull and lifeless.

The man’s eyes opened in the next second—pure silver-white, like flowing mercury. Where the pupils should have been, there was only a narrow slit—not like a humans at all, but rather… bestial.

He let out a soft laugh.

Where his legs should have been was a silver-white fish tail, the same color as the fin-like ears hidden within his hair. At this moment, that fish tail curled around an ice shard like a serpent, coiling slowly.

His gaze drifted over the glowing scales, seemingly trying—just barely—to recall a few names.

But nothing came to mind.

“Forget it. Doesn’t matter.”

The man rested his chin on one hand, as if observing something rare, something that, for once, had truly piqued His interest. His scales… seemed to be unusually, almost impossibly, gathering in one place.

At the same moment…

Shen Zekai, who had been helping straighten Meng Xuexiao’s clothes, suddenly froze mid-motion.

He instinctively clutched his chest. It felt like his heart had been squeezed too tightly, like an overinflated balloon on the verge of bursting. Even his limbs and back throbbed with a dull, suffocating ache.

Without realizing it, cold sweat had soaked his entire body. It felt as if he had slammed, hard, into something invisible but immense.

This pain…

It was even worse than the time he had been attacked by the 2S-ranked Enforcer. He couldn’t even resist it.

Not even a little.

But… how could that be possible?

Clearly—his dorm room… there was nothing there at all…