Chapter 2518: Non‑human: Xiao Chen

Lunch was arranged at the scenic restaurant on the top floor of the hotel.

Zhou Chengjun was in high spirits, sitting side by side with Zhao Xitang, and he also let Liang Yanze join them for the meal.

Liang Yanze had just picked up his chopsticks when his motion froze.

His waist was bound by tentacles, a wet, slick sensation pressing against the skin beneath his shirt, and… it slowly crept.

What was worse, the tentacles differentiated into finer, more flexible tendrils that slipped along the shirt's seams, crawled inside the clothing, and brushed across his chest.

Liang Yanze let out a barely audible groan from his throat, the silver chopsticks slipped from his hand and clattered onto the porcelain plate; he arched his body, trying to resist an intense, almost unbelievable pleasure.

His scalp went numb, he could hardly think, and he lacked the strength to stop the black mist wreaking havoc beneath his clothes.

"Little Liang?" Zhou Chengjun was the first to notice his abnormality, seeing his face flush, his breathing rapid, even his glasses slipping slightly, sweat beading on his forehead; he frowned and asked, "What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

His heart gave a jolt—uh oh, could it be that I overworked my assistant these past few days and made him sick?

That won't do; he didn't want his capable aide Liang Yanze to collapse from exhaustion.

Zhao Xitang also cast a concerned glance his way.

Liang Yanze struggled to lift his head, trying to stay calm, but his voice escaped him in a faint gasp.

"No, it's… fine……" He tried to sit upright, but the intensifying contact beneath his clothes made him shudder again; he could only manage, "…Maybe I'm a bit heat‑stricken, feeling a little unwell."

He drew a deep breath, suppressing the tremor in his voice, "Sorry, excuse me for a moment."

"Go rest right away," Zhao Xitang said immediately, "Do you need a doctor? Don't push yourself."

"Yeah, otherwise people might think I'm mistreating my assistant!" Zhou Chengjun said.

He highly approved of Liang Yanze's work ability.

Liang Yanze rose at once, his steps a bit unsteady as he hurriedly left the table.

As he walked quickly, he lowered his voice as much as possible, warning the air.

"Jin Chen… stop… can you hear me?"

However, communication was ineffective.

The sensation beneath his clothes became even more excessive; fine tendrils twined and rubbed, bringing waves of tingling and mild pain.

Liang Yanze couldn't possibly make it back to his room; his gaze swept over the rest room marked beside the restaurant exit, he didn't bother with much else, hurried over, told the attendant at the door he needed to rest a moment, then pushed the door in and locked it behind him.

It was a simply furnished small room with good soundproofing; once the door was shut, outside noise vanished.

Liang Yanze leaned against the door panel, his body trembling slightly, finally unable to hold himself up, he slid down the panel to sit kneeling on the carpet.

His breathing was completely disrupted, his forehead damp with sweat, a few strands sticking to his brow.

His glasses sat askew on the bridge of his nose; behind the lenses, his eyes glowed with a moist red, his usual calm composure replaced by embarrassment, anger, and a dazed, forced indulgence.

The top button of his shirt had somehow been undone, the collar slightly open, exposing his fair neck and collarbone to the air.

What's worse, one could faintly see unnatural bulges and writhing traces beneath the shirt fabric.

Even a short, fuzzy mist tendril probed out from the edge of his collar, vaguely tightening the skin below; the tendril's surface grew extremely fine, rough barbs that scraped his sensitive skin, leaving red streaks.

Liang Yanze unintentionally lifted his head and saw himself in the opposite decorative mirror.

His clothing was disheveled, the corners of his eyes crimson, being wantonly entwined by a non‑human presence.

A picture of debauched abandon.

Shame and rage surged to his head; Liang Yanze reached out and gripped the door handle, his knuckles whitening with force, squeezing a sound from between his teeth, an unprecedented fierce expression:

"Jin Chen… stop!"

This time, the mist beneath his clothes paused its wanton advance.

Jin Chen obediently shrank back to its normal size, re‑condensing before Liang Yanze, looking at him somewhat helplessly.

In the mirror, Liang Yanze saw the red marks at his collar, and also saw that cluster of mist cautiously approaching, wanting to touch his flushed eye corner.

"How pitiful…" Jin Chen's thought came over, carrying a clumsy consolation after having done wrong, yet mixed with an infatuation he could not fully suppress.

"But I can't help it."

The Abyssal Marsh doubted his own willpower immensely.

Liang Yanze ignored him, wearily closing his eyes, taking deep breaths, striving to calm his racing heart and the lingering, disorienting tremor in his body.

He sat on the floor leaning against the door panel, regaining his composure.

The offending black mist sensed his rapid breathing, drifted to his side, and coiled around his wrist hanging at his side.

Like a pet snake that had done something wrong and didn't know what to do, it lightly wound itself around.

"Honey," Jin Chen said, feeling wronged, "I'm not done venting my anger yet—why are you also angry?"

Liang Yanze: "……"

He closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, and strove to suppress the lingering tremor in his body.

He wasn't angry, of course; this emotion was impossible to, and need not be, explained to a non‑human monster.

He merely felt a deep strangeness and… helplessness.

He himself would actually derive pleasure from such bizarre contact with a monster.

Liang Yanze opened his eyes and looked again at the mirror.

In the mirror, the man's suit was slightly disheveled, his tie loosened a bit, and the black mist clung affectionately yet uneasily around his arm.

A ludicrous yet alluring scene.

Liang Yanze averted his gaze, raised his hand, his fingertips trembling slightly as he straightened the glasses on his nose bridge; the cool frame touched his heated skin, bringing a hint of clarity.

He slowly retied his tie, straightened his shirt collar, trying to don once more that mantle of calm composure, hiding deep within the lingering flush at the bottom of his eyes.

After doing all that, Liang Yanze lowered his gaze to the black mist coiled obediently on his wrist.

"Why are you angry?"

"I…"

Liang Yanze didn't give him time to think, continuing his calm inquiry, "Have I refused you?"

Jin Chen: "……?"

The mist slightly stagnated.

It seems… not.

The wife merely let him stop; she didn't say not to give.

"Did I say not allowed?" Liang Yanzhe continued asking, his gaze through the glasses fell on that mist, his tone even could be called patient, "Back at the restaurant, there were many people; I just didn't want to draw unnecessary attention and trouble."

"Like this, you also want to be angry?"

Jin Chen: "……"

He was dazed, the coiling motion stalled.

The Abyssal Marsh was ensnared by humans' clear, irrefutable questioning.

Jin Chen was a bit torn.

But he is a marsh—getting angry shouldn't be a whim; why still need to reason?

But seeing Liang Yanzhe regain his coldness, his face, flushed from his earlier lapse, gained vivid color.

Jin Chen also felt… perhaps reasoning wasn't out of the question.

After a few seconds of hesitation, a tentacle slowly extended, lightly touching Liang Yanzhe's hand.

"Wife, sorry." Jin Chen readily admitted fault, showing the responsibility a marsh ought to have.

After apologizing, he immediately kept his original intent, anticipating a follow‑up: "So… can you give me blood now?"

Liang Yanzhe's inner turmoil from losing control gradually subsided.

He roughly gauged a bit of this monster's temperament: direct, willful, yet not entirely uncommunicable, even somewhat… naive and easy to deceive.

Liang Yanzhe turned and walked to the sofa in the lounge, sat with legs crossed, his posture regaining composure.

He glanced at his neatly trimmed nails, his tone flat as he stated the difficulty: "There are no scissors here."

"I can." Jin Chen immediately perked up, that slight hesitation tossed aside.

As the blood energy absorption grew stronger, his command over his own power also became much more proficient.

The tentacle slowly coiled around his fair arm, as if measuring; then its surface sprouted extremely fine spike‑like protrusions, gently sliding over his skin.

A faint yet sharp prickling pain came.

Liang Yanzhe lowered his gaze; a fine red line appeared on his arm, several bright red blood beads slowly seeping from the wound.

In that instant, the previously suppressed secret agitation from minor pain spread again, even clearer and more intense than before, racing along the nerves up the spine.

Liang Yanzhe's Adam's apple rolled uncontrollably; he instinctively tilted his head back, the back of his head resting against the soft sofa cushion.

He closed his eyes; his dense eyelids slightly trembled as he tried to conceal the turmoil beneath.

【Detected villain triggers Heartbeat Value, Heartbeat Value+10, total 10!】