CAR 30

Vittorio sluggishly crossed the hallway.

As he, in his blood-soaked state, passed through the corridor, the students naturally made way for him. Among them, not a few were horrified at the sight of Vittorio’s back. His back and shoulders, ravaged by shrapnel, looked twice as menacing as usual. As if merely looking at him would bring them harm, everyone hesitantly turned their heads away.

At the edge of the crowd, Vittorio came face-to-face with a familiar man. Instead of a greeting, he spat toward the man’s instep.

“You look splendid today, too, Vittorio.”

Yan scanned the naked Vittorio from head to toe. Looking at his dried-up glans, he let out a deliberately blatant sneer. Unlike him, who was provoking Vittorio, the party concerned looked serene. He seemed to find even wrangling with Yan a nuisance. He was merely gauging the time by looking at the spire outside the window. Yan was displeased by this.

If one were to dissect Vittorio Bonaparte, he would surely have one fewer or one too many organs than others. Since he was young, he had lacked a thing or two, unlike other people.

He was truly no different from a perfect creation sculpted by God.

But a sculpture cannot become human. With an unfeeling gaze, it merely takes its turn.

It was the same now. With a face completely ignorant of shame, he was looking over Yan’s shoulder. His entire body, drenched in sweat, blood, and water, looked clammy. Like a beast that had grown weary of everything, he was trying to return to his own territory.

“Dennis Kahler was…”

“…”

“Satisfactory?”

“No.”

With that short reply, Vittorio swiftly grabbed Yan by the throat.

It happened in an instant. Vittorio’s five fingers gripped Yan’s neck all over. The force was so strong that his fingerprints could have been gouged right into the flesh.

“Because someone got in the way.”

“Ha…”

“I couldn’t concentrate on fucking.”

“So…”

“…”

“A failure this time, too?”

Yan’s fingernails scraped down Vittorio’s left arm. Regardless, Vittorio dragged Yan by the neck and moved him to the window. Yan could feel the cool glass window behind his back. To Yan, who was looking down at what was behind him, Vittorio clicked his tongue.

“Are you afraid?”

“…”

“If you fall from here, I suppose you’ll be reunited with your parents for the first time in ten years.”

“Vittorio…!”

You think I’ll fall alone? Yan retorted, flashing a vile smile. Vittorio tightened his grip on Yan’s throat. Even while being choked, Yan continued to say what he had to say.

“That bastard, that slut bastard, the one you cherish so, so much…”

“Speak clearly.”

“Hasn’t he gotten awfully loose?”

Yan, who had been looking up at Vittorio’s face, finally burst into laughter. Vittorio was disgusted by the tears welling at the corners of his eyes. Just as Vittorio, after a brief conflict over whether to break him right there or drop him out the window, was about to put it into action—

“Ah…”

Vittorio, who had fumbled for his side with his other hand, frowned. A narrow, long weapon had just pierced through his side. His entire abdomen felt lukewarm, as if an ember had spread there. He was more curious about the perpetrator of the impulse than the tool that had pierced his side.

For instance, if the protagonist of this clumsy onslaught were Dennis… Vittorio’s penis swelled again.

But the one who stabbed Vittorio was Thomer. Though Vittorio was the one who had been stabbed, it was Thomer who was breathing unnaturally. As if the fresh blood flowing over his hand was awkward, Thomer hurriedly wiped both hands on his suit.

“You’re so damn slow… You should’ve come sooner.”

“Shut up.”

The strength in Vittorio’s hand, which was gripping Yan’s throat, slowly drained away. Not missing the chance, Yan kicked Vittorio in the abdomen. Vittorio, who took a blow, grabbed Yan’s ankle and was sent sprawling.

Yan, who had been sitting perched on the railing, also slid off completely and hit his head on the floor. Vittorio, who got up quickly, stomped hard on the inside of Yan’s thigh.

“Looks like you got a new dog.”

“You’re just so indifferent to me. …I got him a long time ago.”

Thomer came and grabbed Vittorio’s right arm. The attempt was good, but his form was clumsy. Vittorio, who fiercely shook him off, pulled out the weapon lodged in his side in one go.

It was a narrow chisel. Vittorio, who readjusted his grip on it, was about to return the favor by driving the weapon into Yan’s eyeball when—

“Vittorio!”

At the distinctive pronunciation calling his name, Vittorio craned his neck. Vittorio, who had thrown away the chisel he was holding, also withdrew his insolent foot from Yan’s body. Showing both his palms, Vittorio faced the one who had called him with a bored expression.

She was Vittorio’s nanny.

Her hair was so short and her posture so straight that it was hard to tell if she was a man or a woman. Behind her stood Guitry. Guitry looked as if he was about to faint at the sight of the blood drenching the hallway.

The nanny gradually closed the distance to Vittorio. She was not the least bit fazed by the man’s hideous naked form. She raised her hand. Her thick hand struck Vittorio’s cheek.

“You’ve gotten violent since I last saw you, Vittorio.”

“Madam’s breasts are getting saggier and saggier.”

“Vittorio.”

“I thought you were with child.”

The nanny raised her hand once more. Vittorio, no longer willing to be hit, snatched her hand and gestured with his chin toward the end of the corridor. It meant that she should continue the discipline over there. The nanny’s brow furrowed.

“His Majesty was unable to contain his astonishment.”

“If I had known he was coming, I would have done it more properly.”

“Let’s go back to the cage, Vittorio.”

The cage.

No one was startled by that bizarre word. Vittorio, who was gripping his side firmly, turned around without a word. The old nanny and Guitry followed behind him.

The hallway, its commotion subsided, was silent. Thomer reflexively looked down at Yan. He was staring at the ceiling with a chilling gaze. Looking down at Yan, who remained lying down and showed no sign of getting up, Thomer urged him on repeatedly. It was almost time for the students to pass through this hallway.

“Thomer.”

Yan called him. Yan, who stared at Thomer with only his eyes wide open, gestured with his head toward his own fly.

“Suck it.”

Thomer’s two eyes, as he stared at Yan, were filled with a deep sense of disgust. Regardless, Yan began to undo his fly with one hand.

He had carried out various things since early morning, but in conclusion, he had failed to punish Vittorio. That bad habit of his, of trying to monopolize things, would likely not be fixed in the future. Yan was extremely displeased by Vittorio’s survival. He glared at Thomer as if to rush him.

It was Yan who had given Thomer a real job, Yan who had found a decent marriage match for his younger sister, and Yan who had provided tremendous help to his faltering family business. Therefore, Thomer had no right to refuse.

Thomer took off his glasses. When he offered them to Yan, Yan took Thomer’s glasses and put them on. His vision blurred, making him feel momentarily dizzy. While Yan kept his eyes closed, Thomer positioned himself between Yan’s legs. At the smell unique to the nether regions, Thomer briefly bit his lip.

“You have to open your mouth to suck.”

After hesitating, Thomer opened his mouth. With both hands on the floor, he tilted only his head and took the tip of Yan’s member into his mouth. The tip of his thin tongue traced the circumference.

Thomer had his hands clasped behind his back. He wasn’t the affectionate type to go so far as to feel up the groin and thighs. Yan was slowly getting aroused not by the act itself, but by his rigid attitude. His Adam’s apple, which had already taken in more than half, was trembling faintly. Thomer, who had his eyes closed as if even looking at it up close was repulsive, was a diligent servant.

“Thomer…”

Yan, who had gripped the hallway carpet, called his name with a moan. Instead of answering, Thomer swallowed a bit more of him. The tip of the penis touching his uvula was irritating, and he naturally felt the urge to gag.

But if he threw up, only Thomer would be at a loss, so he endured all the humiliation and opened his mouth until his jaw felt like it would dislocate. He had to finish this quickly before the students discovered this act. What happened next depended on Yan’s dick. The glans poking the roof of his mouth was annoying.

Yan, who had been lying limply, reflexively bucked his hips. Thomer, who had mistakenly swallowed what he had ejaculated, gagged like a dog. Yan, who had sat up halfway, gently stroked the top of Thomer’s head.

Watching the sun set completely beyond the spire, Yan muttered indifferently. Yan, who gripped the back of Thomer’s neck to prevent him from spitting it out, was expressionless.

“You, at least… I’d like it if you didn’t leave me.”

🩰

Dennis opened his eyes.

He hadn’t even dreamed, so it must have been fainting rather than sleep. His limbs ached. An imaginary pressing stone was bearing down on Dennis’s entire body, as if about to crush him.

As he became aware of reality, his shoulders began to tremble on their own. He could not understand what on earth had happened. Dennis was blankly staring at the needlessly high ceiling, slowly gathering his senses.

Belying the season, his whole body felt shivery. The cool air felt unfamiliar. This was because Dennis’s room was usually warm. He put strength into his upper body, but even lifting his back was difficult. He was cautiously taking in the unfamiliar space, just clutching at the surrounding sheets, when—

“Are you awake?”

It was a familiar voice. As soon as he heard his voice, he remembered what had happened right before he fainted. Dennis wanted to bite his tongue and die.

He looked around, searching for the source of the voice. But he was nowhere to be seen. As if having grasped Dennis’s line of sight, a gentle call came from near his lower body.

“I’m here, Teacher.”

Sami, holding a small pair of scissors, emerged from between Dennis’s legs. His eyes met Dennis’s. His face, which quickly reddened along his freckles, looked quite boyish.

Stuck to the scissors he held up were a few strands of curly body hair. Dennis absentmindedly looked down at his own lower half.

His lower body, which had been messy with traces of Vittorio, was now clean. But the body hair that had surrounded his penis was half gone. Dennis looked up at him with a bewildered face.

“Rather than wiping it all off one by one…”

“…”

“I thought it would be faster to trim it short.”

Cold metal grazed Dennis’s skin. As Dennis flinched as if having a fit, Sami, on the contrary, became more troubled. His rough hand carefully pressed down on Dennis’s lower abdomen.

“You’ll get hurt.”

When Dennis pushed his hand away, Sami’s gentle eyebrows drooped endlessly downward. He seemed to be under the illusion that he was truly doing Dennis a favor.

Just looking at Sami’s face as he peered at his lower half made his stomach churn. Dennis reflexively covered his mouth. The moment he let his guard down, something would surge up from his stomach. To have to face that mug, of all times, when he was at his most defenseless. Looking just like Laurent Lemaître…

As if taking Dennis’s unnatural silence for agreement, he picked up a short straight razor. Sami was truly a skilled gardener. Not even finding a man’s parts disgusting, he even tilted his head at an angle.

Sami spat on his palm. After rubbing the blade there, he promptly began to arbitrarily shave off the black body hair stuck to Dennis’s lower body. Each time the blade grazed his most tender skin, goosebumps broke out all over Dennis’s body. Because the other person was Sami, and he was holding a weapon besides, he couldn’t push him away. Sami wiped the reddened skin a few times with a wet towel.

“Mr. Kahler.”

Even at Sami’s call, Dennis could not look at him. He poked the inside of Dennis’s thigh with the back of the razor. Greatly startled, Dennis finally looked at Sami.

“You have a mole here.”