Quick Transmigration: God of Slaughter? But He Calls Me Baby! - Chapter 41

Bibert slowly wiped the paint off his fingertips with a handkerchief.

He took a deep breath, pulled a bottle of medicine from his pocket, and swallowed two pills with warm water.

“Thank you.” Qian Zhou accepted the gift box.

Bibert was the rising star of the art world, at the height of his fame—there was no reason to refuse him.

Just as Qian Zhou’s fingers brushed against the gift box, the banquet hall doors opened again.

The hall fell silent.

It was Gu Sheng.

Jiang En tugged at Qian Zhou’s sleeve. “Why is he here too…”

“It would be strange if he didn’t.” Qian Zhou reassured him, “It’s fine, Jiang En.”

“Mhm. You… let him sit next to you.”

When they returned to their seats, Jiang En had Old Master Pei on his right and Qian Zhou on his left.

Miles’ newly fitted mechanical hand slammed against his thigh. His eyes burned with hatred.

As Gu Sheng approached, Miles grabbed the black case beside him and hurriedly left.

Wherever Gu Sheng walked, silence followed. Outwardly, he always carried a flawless, courteous air at formal events.

But no one dared to strike up conversation with him.

Only then did Qian Zhou realize that Gu Sheng’s position in the business world seemed even higher than before.

He couldn’t pull his eyes away, forgetting all about the gift Bibert had given him.

Gu Sheng sat down. Bibert smirked. “I thought you’d turn me down again.”

“I only came because he didn’t refuse you.”

Gu Sheng’s gaze flicked to the gift box in Qian Zhou’s hands. He reached out.

“Give it to me.”

Bibert said, “That’s a gift for him.”

Qian Zhou handed the box over to Gu Sheng.

“Well then.” Bibert shrugged.

He watched Gu Sheng’s reaction with great interest.

Gu Sheng opened the box. Inside lay a black lace-trimmed collar with a thin silver chain dangling down.

At the back was a small loop, just large enough for a finger to pull. A tug, and the chain would tighten, leaving deep red marks.

The one wearing it would tilt their throat back and tremble, mouth forced open for air.

The imagery was undeniably alluring.

The design was ingenious, crafted to precisely target human desire.

Bibert clearly understood how intoxicating this sense of domination could be.

But Gu Sheng would never put such a thing around Qian Zhou’s neck.

He shoved the collar back into the box and tossed it at Bibert.

“I thought you’d enjoy it,” Bibert chuckled, though his gaze shifted with greedy intensity to Qian Zhou instead.

His interest in Qian Zhou rivaled his probing of Gu Sheng.

Qian Zhou ate a few bites, peeling shrimp and placing the meat on Jiang En’s plate.

Gu Sheng noticed Qian Zhou’s uncharacteristic silence, his face unreadable.

He ordered an extra dish—chicken br3ast stir-fried with bamboo shoots—just enough for one person.

He placed a portion on Qian Zhou’s plate.

Qian Zhou glanced, then placed it back on Gu Sheng’s.

“Don’t want it.”

Gu Sheng set down his chopsticks and stared at him.

It was the first thing Qian Zhou had said to him that night.

Qian Zhou leaned closer to Jiang En. “Didn’t someone say they were away on business? Funny how they’re here now.”

He looked out at the sea through the window, feigning curiosity. “Who’s that sitting on the left? I don’t know them.”

Then stuffed shrimp into his mouth.

Bibert chuckled into his wine glass, delighted to see the cold-shouldered Mr. Gu.

Usually it was Qian Zhou who spoke first.

This time Gu Sheng had made the gesture.

Yet Qian Zhou not only refused the food—he refused to acknowledge him at all.

Gu Sheng frowned, pushed the plate of chicken and bamboo shoots back to the waiter. “Take it away.”

Qian Zhou puffed his cheeks, glaring at him.

Gu Sheng added, “Give it to someone else.”

That only made Qian Zhou scoot closer to Jiang En, dragging his chair far away from him.

Bibert drawled, “If you don’t want it, plenty of others will.”

Gu Sheng’s voice was icy. “Did I say it was up for grabs?”

“Too late. They’re gone.”

Gu Sheng turned—only to see the two of them had slipped away, leaving only Old Pei at the table, still eating.

Gu Sheng’s face darkened. “…”

Bibert leisurely scrolled his phone. A message popped up: Boss, Miles has offered 80 million for Gu Sheng’s life.

Bibert glanced at Gu Sheng, then typed back: Not yet. I’m not done with him.

A moment later he added: Tell Miles, if he causes trouble, I’ll feed him to the fish.

Reply: Understood.

Inside the 24th floor emergency stairwell.

Only the glow of the green exit signs lit the space.

Miles glared at the open black case on the floor—stuffed with cash, gold bars, bank cards.

His entire fortune.

“Gu Sheng! Gu Sheng!!”

His sleeve slipped down, revealing the stump where his hand had been severed, flesh uneven beneath the bandages.

Even now, it hadn’t healed.

His eyes were bloodshot with rage. Everything—Gu Sheng’s fault!

Clamping his phone awkwardly between the stumps of his arms, he clung to his one hope for revenge.

Bibert would help. Bibert had to.

Outside, Qian Zhou and Jiang En’s voices floated through the door. Miles crept up, peering through the crack.

“The elevators are all down below. We’ll have to wait ages.”

At that moment, Miles’ phone buzzed with a message:

Our boss isn’t taking this deal. You’d better behave—otherwise you won’t leave this ship alive.

The phone clattered to the floor. Miles let out a crazed laugh. “What’s left for me anyway… what’s left to live for…”

“Gu Sheng not only chopped off my hand… he destroyed my business too…”

“I won’t let you go…”

Another message appeared—from one of his men:

That boy you asked about—Gu Sheng’s been keeping him close. His name is Qian Zhou. Seems Gu Sheng cares a lot about him.

Miles’ brows furrowed tight. His despair twisted into a desperate, reckless impulse.

He pressed his head against the door, one eye fixed through the crack on Qian Zhou’s back.

“So he wasn’t some escort after all. He was yours all along…”

“And just for touching him, you chopped off my hand.”

Miles ground his teeth until they cracked. Hatred seared through him—he wanted to tear that boy apart, crush him to pieces.

Then he laughed, low and strange.

“You care about him, don’t you, Gu Sheng…”

“I’ll make you watch while I take him. While I choke him, break him…”

“I’ll make you regret this…”

Outside.

Most people were still in the banquet hall. Only Qian Zhou and Jiang En waited by the elevators.

Qian Zhou watched the numbers climb: 20… 21… “Almost here. It’s still early, let’s head to the top floor—”

His words cut off as a hand clamped over his mouth and throat, dragging him into the fire escape.

“Qian Zhou—!!!”

Jiang En lunged but was forced down, another hand smothering his cry.

Miles sneered:

“Take them all.”