Quick Transmigration: God of Slaughter? But He Calls Me Baby! - Chapter 25

Qian Zhou stood at the doorway of the room, as if glaring was the only thing he knew how to do.

Gu Sheng always managed to render him speechless, knocking him back to square one with his unreasonable worldview.

It was infuriating.

Why did Gu Sheng always believe he was right?

Whenever Qian Zhou got upset, he didn’t like talking to people. He pushed the door open, intending to leave and return to his own room.

But then he remembered—Gu Sheng still had surveillance in there, which he could watch whenever he pleased.

The thought made Qian Zhou even angrier. He completely forgot the promise he’d made Gu Sheng and thought only of revenge.

Gu Sheng caught the door handle, pulling the already-opened door back a little.

“Did I upset you? Where did you get such a big temper from?”

He frowned slightly, glancing at the narrow gap. “You’re not getting out. Stay here, obediently.”

Qian Zhou grabbed his arm and bit down hard.

So hard his jaw trembled.

Outside the window, the sky was sweltering. The air conditioning inside hadn’t been turned on yet.

Everywhere felt hot and stifling.

Qian Zhou wasn’t without a temper; he was just always searching for better solutions.

He compromised by staying with Gu Sheng. He compromised when Jiang Huachen and Cheng Xiao dragged him away.

And for the sake of not letting things end too ugly, he compromised with Gu Sheng once more.

He had promised Gu Sheng he could make any request—no matter how excessive.

Gu Sheng was always in the position of power. Qian Zhou always felt he was surviving in the cracks Gu Sheng allowed him.

Even the system’s bugs were more likely because of Gu Sheng.

The more Qian Zhou thought about it, the more aggrieved he felt. His bite grew harsher until his teeth broke skin.

The metallic tang of bl00d filled his mouth, and he heard the sticky sound of tearing flesh.

Gu Sheng had no pain-blocking system, yet he only lowered his eyes and stroked Qian Zhou’s hair, as if the bl00d dripping onto the door handle and floor belonged to someone else.

The villa district was silent. No one walked dogs, no one visited neighbors, no idle chatter of daily life.

Everyone was busy. And often, Gu Sheng wasn’t even home for days at a time.

Qian Zhou didn’t like it here.

He didn’t like this stifling little world either. From the moment he entered, it had trapped him in a net.

Any struggle was futile.

Spitting out bl00d, Qian Zhou whispered, “Not free at all…”

The bite on his neck throbbed too, as if linked to the taste of bl00d in his mouth.

Gu Sheng was just like him, wasn’t he? Hurting, too.

Qian Zhou shoved Gu Sheng away with both hands, bolted out of the room, and then out of the villa.

Outside was nothing but endless road and a manicured private garden with not a single fallen leaf.

This entire stretch of land belonged to Gu Sheng. Without his permission, no one could set foot here.

And yet, only two people lived in it.

It was too desolate.

Like the first time he’d tried to run away, Qian Zhou walked along the edge of the road.

Under the blazing sun, the light was so bright it was hard to open his eyes.

The villa district was vast. For the second time, he failed to find an exit.

In just minutes, the sun had him dizzy. The trees and leaves before his eyes swayed like waves.

Qian Zhou stumbled into the shade, sitting down. From a distance, he heard the roar of an engine.

He exhaled and deliberately shifted to the most obvious spot.

If Gu Sheng came looking, he’d see him at once.

He had nowhere else to go without Gu Sheng—and so many of Gu Sheng’s mysteries remained unsolved.

Qian Zhou buried his head in his arms, discouraged. “Forget it then…”

The engine’s roar grew deafening.

“What do you mean, forget it?”

Qian Zhou looked up, needing a long moment to confirm that the man before him was Gu Sheng.

He wore black slacks, bare-chested, and a black motorcycle helmet.

Gu Sheng hauled him up from the ground, wrapped an arm around his waist, and sat him on the backseat of a motorcycle.

Then he pulled out another black helmet, securing it on Qian Zhou’s head before swinging one long leg over to sit facing forward.

Their helmets bumped lightly together. From inside, Gu Sheng’s muffled voice came, more unhinged than usual:

“I’ll give you freedom.”

Click. The strap under Qian Zhou’s chin was fastened.

“What do you mean…” He gripped his shirt nervously, staring at this different Gu Sheng.

He pushed up the visor of Gu Sheng’s helmet. “Didn’t you take your meds today?”

Gu Sheng’s eyes were beautiful—deep, with sharp brows like a blade.

Now they curved into a smile. “Mm. I did.”

“I’m not crazy.”

He sat upright again, placed Qian Zhou’s hands firmly around his waist, and the motorcycle shot forward like a wild stallion.

Qian Zhou instinctively clutched him tight.

Gu Sheng’s skin burned hot, a heat that seeped through his palms, spreading from his fingertips to his heart.

Qian Zhou’s heartbeat pounded wildly.

The reckless wind lashed against his sides, whipping his shirt into the air.

The scenery blurred into retreating streaks as Gu Sheng carried him out of the inescapable villa district.

They sped onto a nearly deserted coastal highway—endless wild grass on the left, boundless blue ocean on the right.

It was more thrilling than the armored vehicles of the apocalypse. The wind screamed against his arms and legs.

Every worry was flung away. Qian Zhou had never imagined Gu Sheng would drag him into madness, too.

“Hold tight!”

The wind drowned out his words. Qian Zhou shouted, “What did you say—?”

A large hand covered his arm, intertwining their fingers together.

Qian Zhou slapped at his hand in panic. “D-don’t ride one-handed!!”

The bike flew faster, Gu Sheng’s laughter rumbling through his chest, carrying Qian Zhou’s arms with it.

Then Gu Sheng accelerated again, fleeing as far as possible from the city.

“Ahhh—!!”

Qian Zhou squeezed his eyes shut, clinging to Gu Sheng’s back.

Yet Gu Sheng rode steady. This time, Qian Zhou clearly heard him say: “Don’t be afraid.”

Qian Zhou opened his eyes. The scenery raced by, waves surging against the shore.

He tilted his head back, nostrils full of wild, salt-laden wind.

This joy was real. Qian Zhou hugged Gu Sheng’s waist tighter and laughed, shouting:

“I forgive you—!”

Gu Sheng caught the boy’s bright voice amidst the wind.

He slowed near a rocky shore, braking at the closest point to the sea.

Helmet in one hand, Gu Sheng looked down at Qian Zhou.

His heart raced as wildly as Qian Zhou’s, beating with the rhythm of crashing waves.

Lowering his head, he pressed a kiss against Qian Zhou’s lips—through the helmet.

Just a light touch.

Qian Zhou froze. Then he took off his own helmet, setting it on the seat.

Cupping Gu Sheng’s face in his hands, he whispered, “…Just this once.”

And kissed him.