CAR 20

If one could sell their body in the worst situation, it was a cheap way to save one’s life. If he could console himself that way, the shame wouldn’t last long. However, this was a matter of life and death.

Dennis’s eyes widened as he looked at the ‘drawer unit’ Thomer had mentioned. It was half open, and though the inside wasn’t clearly visible, it was tightly packed with large glass bottles.

Therefore, becoming a part of that place was utterly out of the question.

Yan, who seemed to think Dennis was still drugged, merely remained silent for a while, not hastily cutting or dissecting him, even with Dennis right in front of him.

In a flash, he rolled off the desk with all his might.

Dennis, who barely fell on his back, crawled on the floor. Yan, seemingly quite surprised by Dennis’s fierce resistance, quietly looked down at him.

“Vittorio…”

“…”

“I think I know why he’s so devoted to Mr. Kahler.”

Vittorio, Vittorio, damn Vittorio.

Dennis wanted to stop hearing his name. As Dennis crawled desperately on the floor, Yan sighed.

“Are you leaving?”

No need to ask. Dennis, who silently retorted that in his mind, moved his arms. His nape, where the syringe had been inserted, was still stiff. Dennis’s current state was no different from a slow land tortoise. His plight was truly deplorable.

As if Dennis’s effort alone was commendable, Yan left him alone for a while. Instead, Yan organized the documents and supplies cluttered on the desk.

Just as Dennis stepped through the doorway, two massive shod feet blocked his path. Yan, with his hands in his pockets, stepped on Dennis’s hands. He didn’t put his full weight on them, but it felt filthy.

“Not obedient, and…”

“…”

“He was just sleeping with Quercy.”

Yan smiled splendidly. The toe of his shoe lifted Dennis’s chin. The smell of leather made Dennis feel nauseous.

‘Yan Richter is a germaphobe.’

Thomer’s advice, who had taken Dennis to the infirmary, finally came to mind. Dennis bit down on the toe of Yan’s shoe. Yan, seemingly pleased by the unexpected antics, squatted down to meet his gaze. Yan’s long finger tapped Dennis’s cheek.

“You had this talent?”

“…”

“Think of it as Quercy’s soft dick, and try sucking on it.”

Dennis licked Yan’s shoe so hard his cheeks indented. Yan let out a sneer over Dennis’s head. Dennis, with only his eyes wide open, glared at him. The smell of leather was excellent at inducing nausea.

Dennis twisted his jaw and threw up everything.

“…”

“…”

Yan stared at Dennis, speechless. Since he had eaten nothing, it was all transparent from being forced out, but Yan slowly stood up, as if disgusted by its stickiness.

He looked from his shoe to Dennis repeatedly. Dennis raised his hand. He pointed at Yan’s shirt. While Yan was momentarily distracted, checking the vomit on his chest, Dennis, who had only managed to sit up, spat a thick stream of saliva on the floor. He was still dizzy and nauseous, but he could control his body to some extent.

“What gives you the right to…”

“…”

“Suck, dry, it’s an order…”

Dennis tried to raise his knees to fully stand up. Yan, who had been staring at Dennis, frozen, instantly extended his foot.

He stomped on Dennis’s head. Dennis, caught off guard, slammed his cheekbone on the floor. He happened to be face down in his own vomit. The stench, forcibly pulled up from his intestines, stung his nose.

Yan’s shod foot trampled Dennis’s face. It was a clean motion, like stubbing out a cigarette with one’s foot.

“I’ll give you a choice.”

Yan pointed to the infirmary door. The sun was gradually setting.

“If you go outside, your soul is sold, and if you stay inside, your body is sold.”

“…”

“What will you do, Mr. Kahler?”

Dennis merely laughed instead of answering. Yan looked as if he was about to crush Dennis’s head. Dennis reluctantly opened his mouth.

“I’m not selling either.”

Dennis grabbed Yan’s calf and lifted his head. Yan Richter, unfortunately, still stood lofty.

Dennis grinned maliciously and brought his face to Yan’s leg. He was half out of his mind. He bit into Yan’s exposed ankle with all his might. So desperately and strongly that everyone would be shocked.

The moment Dennis bit into his ankle, someone clapped above his head. It was Eric’s illusion. He cheered like someone watching a sports game.

‘That idiotic fool, Dennis Kahler, finally gets one over on the pervert!’

He was even narrating a play-by-play.

Yan, as if he had seen all sorts of absurd things, shook Dennis off with a kick. However, his eyes were distinctly different from before.

“Dirty is dirty, and…”

“…”

“What if I felt destiny in your tooth marks?”

“What kind of nonsense…”

“Kahler.”

He grabbed Dennis by the hair. His yellowish pupils held a strange glint. Yan’s gloved hand willingly wiped the vomit from Dennis’s cheek.

“Let’s join forces.”

His abdomen, where Yan had kicked him, still smarted. Surely one useless organ must have been twisted.

Dennis chuckled dryly at the absurd proposal. He no longer had the energy to argue with him.

“Why… me?”

“Aren’t you here to kill Vittorio?”

“…”

“If we eliminate Bonaparte, you can also put an end to sucking the old man’s balls.”

He had never sucked them. But he didn’t want to refute it.

He clicked his tongue, caressing Dennis’s swollen cheek like a lover. Instead of agreeing to Yan’s proposal, Dennis spat. Yan’s brows furrowed mercilessly, his shirt once again soiled.

“Why are you refusing?”

“…”

“Have you already given Vittorio both your body and soul?”

Dennis was tired of all of this now.

How should he deal with this naive pervert who firmly believed that one’s body, mind, and even soul could easily be offered to others? Dennis’s worries deepened.

Instead of replying, Dennis lowered his head. Do as you please. Dennis, muttering that, quietly waited for Yan’s disposition.

Quercy had said to sell whatever could be sold… but what if the opponent was a formidable swindler? A quagmire where the body is defiled and life is not guaranteed.

“Thomer.”

Yan, who had trampled Dennis again, unzipped his pants. At Yan’s short, low call, Thomer entered the infirmary as if he had been waiting. Looking from the soiled floor to Dennis, who was still breathing, he turned to Yan in surprise.

“Have you matured?”

“You take yours off too.”

“…What?”

Yan, who had slumped into a perfectly fine chair, spread his legs and reached into his underwear. He gestured at Dennis with his chin, a bored expression on his face.

“Do something.”

“…Damn, what I’m imagining?”

“Hurry.”

Dennis looked up at Thomer. He seemed very embarrassed. Thomer made the sign of the cross over Dennis, who was drenched in sweat, vomit, and blood.

Soon, Thomer grabbed Dennis by the collar and pulled him up. When their eyes met, Thomer hastily averted his gaze. He pushed Dennis to the floor. Thomer, who sat on Dennis’s chest, occasionally sighed. He ran his fingers through his messy bangs and even took off his glasses.

At the sight, Yan sneered and quickly moved his hands. He was already masturbating.

“Thomer might be better than Laurent.”

“Shut up, Richter… It’s not getting hard.”

Thomer, who had been looking at Dennis with pity, suddenly threw a punch. It was a stinging punch that made Dennis’s neck snap. He relentlessly struck Dennis’s jaw. Dennis, with split lips, dribbled bloody saliva.

Thomer lowered his pants. A blunt, flesh-colored object blurred in Dennis’s vision. Despite his reluctance, Thomer diligently performed a series of actions. Grabbing Dennis’s bangs, he shoved that unsavory and utterly unpleasant thing into Dennis’s mouth. The sensation of it poking his throat once again brought on nausea.

“Is it wet?”

“It’s alright.”