Bright is brought to Inner City, to Hopkin’s home. First, he is healed up at the usual place, where he uses the opportunity to connect the u-drive to the public smart chip in the medical room so that he obtains what he wanted.
While he is about to sacrifice his first time, his plan of escape progressing greatly has overtaken his sense of shame. He will be able to make a deal with the werewolves for this and remove the damn bracelet for his freedom. He will probably not require any help but his own physical strength to breakthrough and escape from the City’s pursuit.
Though to ensure his plan succeeds, he has made lots of smoke bombs, using all sorts of camouflaging colours to mask his real purpose. He cooperated with the werewolves, making them think he needs their power to escape, making them underestimate his real strength and assume he can at most suppress Alpha; he enticed Piers, this young master of Outer City with rebellion, when in fact he couldn’t care less about the classism of people in the City, who cares which of you bite each other! He even engaged with many contestants and creatures in plain sight or in secret, and made it seem as if he is creating a faction. He also suppressed his personality to superfluously interact with Inner City residents, tolerating with patience.
If there is someone that Bright actually cared about, they might be the Dog-ear Boy and Hope. One is a pet, the other a product of an experiment. They are most familiar and loyal to him, and are also harmless to him.
Everyone thinks he is a hero, open and honest, caring about the world and the people, being a beacon of light, an exemplar of morality-—in a sarcastic meaning——when in fact, he is merely a terrified conman, a normal person trying to break free of the bonds and run somewhere safe.
Bright bites his own tongue to warn himself with the pain, so that he does not reveal anything in his excited state.
He knows his excitement is not only from breakthroughs in his plan of escape, but also a surreptitious expectation for what is to come.
In accordance with instructions, Bright enters Hopkin’s room. It is clean, tidy, comfortable; decorated with cold colours, simple in design but also highly creative in the placement of decoration and furniture. The traces of everyday life can be seen everywhere in the room, such as half-empty tissue boxes, items of clothing that have been lightly worn… This is the private space of the aristocrat, Bright thinks.
Hopkin comes out from the bathroom in a bathrobe and slippers. His hair has not dried and is still dripping with water. Seeing the man come in, he asks, “do you want to wash again?”
Bright shakes his head. He has already been cleaned during the treatment.
The aristocrat perks his lips up. His black pair of eyes look at him, as if asking him what he is waiting for.
“Why did you decide to do this suddenly?” Bright couldn’t help but ask. He is a bit curious, but Hopkin’s change of attitude is making him feel ominous. He hopes this will not bring trouble to his plan of escape.
“I have never promised you anything,” Hopkin says indifferently.
Bright thinks about it, and it sounds about right. Previously he just used information about his origins to distract Hopkin and escaped. He never said he is going to let it go. It was a bit complicated at the time, when he thought he hated him and wanted to take revenge on him. Yet he said it was like. Ignoring how twisted and sick this like was, it still overturned everything Bright knew, and so his own attitude towards the aristocrat has started to change subtly.
Bright does not understand where the pain in the aristocrat’s pleasure at the time came from, and why it seems to have disappeared now. He can feel that the aristocrat is firm in his resolution this time, and he will have to do it. It feels as if he will never be let go if he doesn’t let up.
What should he do? He’s nervous.
Hopkin sits on the sofa, and Bright sits next to him. They are currently maintaining a safe distance of about a hand away. The aristocrat throws to Bright a clean light grey towel. He points to his own hair, having him clean it for him.
When his hair was dried, the aristocrat lifts his feet up onto Bright’s knees. There is still water on his lower leg and feet, and Bright dries it for him. He can see the aristocrat’s toes moving as if trying to split apart, so that it is easier for him to also dry the moisture between his toes. This was done naturally as if it has been done many times.
Bright starts to feel strange. He hides his curiosity in his mind and works quietly.
The slippers are still wet and they would not be fit for wearing. The aristocrat puts his hands around the man’s shoulders, having him princess-carry him to the master bedroom. He is put lightly onto the bed.
Bright stands by the bedside, completely stiff. He feels a bit awkward as the aristocrat continues to look at him. His fists tighten and retighten before he opens his hand back up.
The black pupils are looking at him as if asking, do I need to repeat my previous threats to you?
No, thanks.
Bright is deluding himself – I’m not the one with the worse end of the deal here, I’m super happy.
Listen to the devil’s song – a soft tone, a fierce tone;
how cruel the tone is, with tears collecting into a river.
Listen to the devil’s song – a kind tone, a mad tone;
how deep the sadness goes, how ever will it stop?
They did it.
The man has been caring for the whole time, or rather, slow. If it were not for him accurately pinpointing the G-spot of the aristocrat and then stimulating it again and again and again, the aristocrat will definitely have accused him of slacking off.
He first kisses the aristocrat from his head to his feet, treading carefully like exploring an uncharted forest, a jungle that has seen no man ’til now. He is searching for where the pink fruits grow, where the streams originate, where there are the most fuzzy animals, where there are fierce beasts that cannot be teased.
The man’s breath is boiling hot. His palms are warmer than the aristocrat’s, and even electrified. Just kissing, hugging and touching is already highly pleasurable for the aristocrat. He shudders under the man’s touch; he is swallowed by his lips and tongue.
A bit after that the aristocrat urges with an uneven breath, “when will you stop dithering around?”
Bright misses the aristocrat that struggles between pain and happiness, because that makes him more like a man. And the one before his eyes who is indulging in lust is, how should he put it, making Bright feel an unfamiliarity as if he doesn’t know this Hopkin. He feels that he seem to be in danger, as if the person is gearing up for a critical hit.
Bright opens up Hopkin’s body. The great dragon is at the entrance to the cave, patrolling but not entering. He pleasures the aristocrat as he asks, “what made you change your mind?” The aristocrat avoided his question just now, so he can only ask again.
The aristocrat probably wants to put up a dignified and ferocious expression, but he fails, because he has just come once. His eyes are foggy and his whole body is fatigued and aching. The expression is both evoking both sympathy and sadism. Bright bites himself again, so that he doesn’t do anything inhumane to the aristocrat. The skin on his tongue has already been pierced through, and he will probably get an ulcer later.
“Have you come across some new information?”
The aristocrat bites his own lips and refuses to open his mouth. A tinge of pain flashes over his expression. This is both for enduring through the bodily torture, and because he is reminded of the fact that the man is secretly planning to leave him.
The moment he thinks about it his chest feels as if it is being repeatedly stabbed by a sharp blade. He can rationally work out Bright’s motives, and understand how it completely aligns with the slave’s thoughts and will, but he cannot accept it emotionally.
– Of course he is running away from you; he does not believe in you.
– No! He cannot think like that!
– What can you do? Change his thoughts?
– Of course I can.
A crazed smile emerges on the Gentleman in the darkness.
I will be doing it.
I am doing it right now.
I have done it.
The three sentences are simple to say, but of course, it’s not so simple in reality. It will probably take a bit longer as well, maybe one or two days and nights. How many hours actually passed is insignificant, since this is too debaucherous already.
Bright’s questioning is ineffective. The aristocrat lifts his body up and swallows the great dragon in, before trying to grind it to death. It is almost like a form of torture. It’s the first time for both people – one is too tight, one is too big; one is in too much of a hurry, one is focussing their mind thinking of something else. The experience is not pleasant at first.
“You… relax a little…” Bright’s muscles are tensed up.
No, I won’t! The aristocrat is tearing up, his eyes reddening, stubborn like a child in his rebellious phase. It isn’t that he’s in pain, but he refuses to let it go, as if afraid the other person would leave.
“I’m not going to ask anymore, let’s both stop thinking about it, okay?” Bright tries to help Hopkin take a deep breath. He kisses him lightly and continuously, soothing him, trying to relax him a little.
After their thoughts have cleared away, the two are gradually in a more and more enjoyable situation. They are starting to indulge in this long, fascinating physical activity.
The void that is filled has dampened his fear of losing the man, and the aristocrat refuses to let him exit. The two of them are like conjoined twins. They sleep and they wake up together, connecting to each other at all times. Most of the time they are on the bed, and of course they’re occasionally somewhere else. They only eat nutrient mixture for stamina, until Hopkin’s smart chip starts warning his bodily condition.
“Just one more time…” The aristocrat closes his alert. Neither of his legs can move, and he is both fatigued and ragdolled. He is even having cramps due to overexercise, and one of his legs is up on the man’s shoulder, the other lying flat on the bed. His waist is leaning on the pillow to ease his tiredness.
The two finally separate. Bright helps Hopkin clean up before washing himself. He almost feels as if little Bright has shrunk a size. It is perhaps really possible to grind an iron rod into a needle. When he is finished and comes out, Hopkin could already stand and walk normally. He has probably been through treatment and his body has recovered.
Bright is wondering if there is Viagra here – he’ll probably need to order a metric tonne.
“Come eat something.” Hopkin walks to the other side of the dinner table, and says.
It is almost noon, and there’s a simple set of meals with vegetable and congee on the table. Bright sits down; he is also physically drained with the high-intensity physical exercise. He hopes this will be good for at least a year, since he will continue to be traumatised by pumping motions for now.
He drinks a bowl of congee. Bright plans to start his operation when he goes back, to make a deal with the werewolves, and then leave before episode ten.
The show has twelve episodes a season, so it is almost over by now. The competition will get crueller and crueller near the end, until only one person is left. His leaving will probably be a blessing and his gift to his former teammates and other contestants.
Goodbye, the City of sin.
See you never again, Shithead.
“Then, I’m going to excuse…” Bright stands up, but suddenly feels his head spinning, “myself…” His eyes are widened, and looks at the aristocrat with black eyes and black hair in an expression of disbelief. Afterimages are showing up in his vision, “you… why…” His body shakes violently suddenly, before he falls down onto the ground, rolling under the table. He tries his best to struggle, knocking over the chair, before lying on the carpet, exhausted. Blood oozing out from the corner of his mouth.
Hopkin has spiked Bright’s food when he least suspected it.
The man completely didn’t expect Hopkin to act suddenly. He thought his compromise with him on satisfying his sexual desire will have soothed him for a while and buy time for himself. The aristocrat used that to his favour and interfered with Bright’s judgement. He acted when Bright is least wary of him!
Before he loses his consciousness, Bright can hear the cold, emotionless voice of the aristocrat.
“You are not going anywhere.”
Author’s notes: I’m going to give the scum Bottom a bit of a happy ending now.