| WRIAWW | The Night Is Young and I Can't Sleep | 66
The night was hazy and dim, with the silver-haired man standing quietly by the master bed.
Half his face was shrouded in darkness, the faint blood-red moonlight from the windowsill casting shadows across his saintly, flawless features. His ice-blue eyes swirled with countless emotions as he narrowed them to scrutinize the person sleeping soundly on the bed.
It was easy to tell whether a person was genuinely sleeping or pretending to sleep.
At least from Joshua's perspective. The black-haired youth's breathing was deep and steady, his intervals regular, without the slightest flaw. Even his fingers, loosely crossed over his chest, were completely relaxed, utterly defenseless.
"......"
Joshua gazed at Zong Le's sleeping face, his silver lashes casting fragmented shadows under the moonlight.
Was he absolute confidence in his own abilities, or was he simply carefree?
But then again, considering Zong Le's combat prowess, it made sense.
Joshua was curious. After encountering that weird in the apartment, how would Zong Le, someone who always followed rules meticulously, react?
Would he resort to brute force by smashing through obstacles? Or would he handle it differently?
Beyond that, there were other matters requiring verbal probing, all data that needed firsthand observation and recording.
It was a shame that he was already asleep. It wasn’t as if he could wake him up for a heart-to-heart now. He was here to build goodwill, not stir resentment.
Left with no choice, Joshua sat on the edge of the bed and lay down fully clothed.
Before extinguishing the light, he couldn’t help but think. Zong Le was the type easiest to win over, yet he often left Joshua feeling like he was punching cotton—powerless and ineffective.
He hoped this wouldn’t persist in the days ahead. With that thought, Joshua slipped into a faint slumber.
As the other man settled into bed, the master bedroom fell into silence.
A gentle night breeze slipped through the slightly ajar window, rustling the white lace curtains and casting fluttering shadows on the floor.
Amid the stillness, Zong Le slowly opened his eyes.
Despite having just woken from light sleep, there wasn’t a trace of drowsiness in his gaze. After a few seconds of staring at the ceiling, he suddenly rolled out of bed without warning. His bare feet padding soundlessly across the soft carpet as he glided toward the door like a shadowy black cat.
As he passed Joshua, he spared him a glance.
The man had removed his signature monocle and was neatly folded and placed on the nightstand.
His lips were pressed thin, his long lashes frost-like, his profile as if carved from stone. The faint rise and fall of his chest beneath his white robes was nearly imperceptible. He looked less like a sleeping man and more like an exquisite doll displayed in a crystal coffin, exuding a unnervingly inhuman feeling.
Still, at least he was quieter like this.
Zong Le exhaled inwardly. He was terrible at dealing with skilled silver-tongued people like Joshua, especially now that he knew the man harbored ill intentions.
Every conversation felt like dancing through a minefield.
After all, he carried far too many secrets, each one a potential disaster if exposed.
The black-haired youth hunched slightly as he slipped out the door, merging seamlessly with the darkness of the hallway.
What he didn’t know was that the moment the door clicked shut behind him, the silver-haired man on the bed snapped his eyes wide open.
The apartment was dark at night, with only the neon glow from the cityscape visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room.
The office buildings across the street remained brightly lit, clearly filled with corporate slaves pulling all-nighters, their lights providing faint illumination for the nearby luxury apartments.
...
Dong Feng was crouched at the edge of the corridor, bending low with an iron rod in hand.
He was intently staring through the living room at the playroom, but before he could clearly see what weird was causing trouble, he heard a voice behind him: "What are you doing squatting here?"
Dong Feng: "Holy shit!"
If he hadn't turned around fast enough, he would have swung the iron rod at the source of the voice.
Even so, having someone suddenly speak up in the quiet environment was enough to give him a serious fright. After all, this was in the middle of a mission!
"Why the hell are you walking around without making any sound?!"
His angry retort was halfway out when Dong Feng suddenly realized the person before him was someone the Watchtower Guild needed to recruit. The rest of his words got stuck in his throat, he felt unsure whether to continue or not.
Fortunately, Zong Le didn't seem to mind the outburst and even apologized: "Oh, sorry about that. I saw you sneaking around here and wanted to check if you were having any issues."
"What issues could I have... Oh! I was trying to sleep in my room earlier, but that little girl next door kept knocking on the wall and asking if I wanted to come out and play. It was driving me crazy, so I grabbed this and came out."
Truthfully, Dong Feng had another motive. This mission has both the talented newcomer the Warchtower Guild wanted to recruit and the current top-lever survivor . As a A-level strength-type, he wasn't afraid of any A-level weird.
With this in mind and wanting to show off, he had deliberately left his room at night to search for clues, putting himself at risk.
Zong Le naturally didn't suspect anything: "Did you find anything unusual?"
"Well..."
He wasn't a medium, how could he sense weirds?
Relying solely on visual observation was inefficient. After crouching there for so long, all he'd seen was that hanging silk ribbon swaying in the air, with no trace of any actual weird.
Quickly changing the subject, Dong Feng added, "Don't think I'm bad at searching, it's just that if that weird shows its face, I can take it down instantly! You're a strength-type too, so you get what I mean, right?"
Seizing this rare moment alone, Dong Feng wanted to gather some information.
But while he was rambling on, Zong Le looked puzzled: "Why can't you sense it?"
"Huh? You mean you can?"
"I can. That weird isn't in the playroom." Frowning, Zong Le continued, "It keeps moving around, sometimes in the master bedroom, sometimes in the living room. Anyway, you should stand up. This thing is cautious and likes to create distractions in different places. Crouching like this won't help you find it."
Dong Feng: ?
The forums said this talented newcomer was a strength-type. How could he sense anything?
"Brother, stop joking around. To sense a weird, you'd need medium abilities that usually only manifest after multiple levels of mental enhancement. How could a strength-type guy like you possibly have medium abilities?"
But Zong Le didn't answer the question. He suddenly frowned, staring intently toward the master bedroom before hurriedly excusing himself, "Sorry, excuse me," and walking straight away.
Left alone, Dong Feng remained crouched in his original position, utterly confused.
"So what was that guy even doing out here?" he belatedly realized the oddity. "Wait—a C-level dares to wander outside without a 1st's protective watch? That's some serious guts."
Meanwhile, Zong Le followed the weird presence back to the master bedroom.
Pushing open the door, he found complete darkness inside. The previously ajar window had somehow closed, the crimson moon hidden behind dark clouds. The room was pitch black, with only faint breathing audible.
Even in the dark, Zong Le could make out the silhouette of the silver-haired man lying on the bed.
His brow furrowed. This time, he didn't conceal his footsteps. Hearing the door close, the figure on the bed "conveniently" woke up, propping himself up on one elbow. "Why'd you go out? What time is it now—ugh!"
Before he could finish, Zong Le seized his throat.
His grip tightened gradually, the sound of cracking bones clearly audible, making his cold, detached expression even more pronounced.
"You're not Joshua," the black-haired youth said calmly. "Who are you?"
"Heh...heh..." The weird being choked stiffened abruptly, its human face collapsing like melting wax. In the next instant, its entire body exploded into thick black mist, surging toward the ceiling like a reverse waterfall.
Zong Le instinctively released his grip to give chase, but at that moment, another icy hand suddenly clamped onto his wrist.
Looking down, he saw the silver-haired man now awake, raising an eyebrow with a smile.
One glance was all it took for Zong Le to know that this was the real Joshua.
Because no random impostor could replicate that familiar, infuriatingly analytical gaze.
Realizing this, Zong Le suddenly became aware of their compromising position.
He was straddling Joshua's waist, hands still in a choking posture. Setting aside the haunted house setting, the scene resembled some niche fetishist's private play.
"Sorry," Zong Le quickly apologized, releasing his grip and standing up. "I sensed something just now—"
"I know," Joshua interrupted. "It was a weird."
He casually glossed over the awkward positioning. "I figured something would happen tonight when I went to bed. With so many people boldly camping in its lair, of course the weird couldn't resist."
"Oh...you knew?" Zong Le, who'd been racking his brain for explanations, blinked in surprise and rubbed his nose. He opened his mouth to explain further, but Joshua seemed to have anticipated it.
"It appeared just now, using my appearance, didn't it?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Then my theory is probably correct."
Zong Le fell silent after he finished speaking.
After a long pause, he finally said, "You interrupted me earlier, otherwise that weird would have been dead by now."
"No rush," Joshua said leisurely as he sat up on the bed, groping for the monocle nearby and putting it on. "The main task forces us to stay until dawn. Whether that weird dies sooner or later makes no difference. Besides, if you're worried about the others outside, they're all B-level or higher, they are more than capable of protecting themselves."
Zong Le thought about it and realized he was right.
He hadn't noticed at all that, in just a short time, the man before him had already figured out his helpful nature with pinpoint accuracy.
"So what should we do now?"
"The night is long, and we're stuck in a mission. There's hardly any time for sleep... How about we chat instead?"
Zong Le: !!!
He finally realized what he had forgotten.
Zong Le couldn't understand how things had come to this.
He had chosen to sleep in the first place precisely because he didn't want to chat!
How had they circled back to the starting point?
Joshua, who had subtly controlled and steered the entire conversation, merely smiled without a word.
"Fine, what do you want to talk about?"
As the saying goes, you don't hit a smiling face. With the man propped up on one arm, as he smiled at him so warmly, Zong Le couldn't bring himself to refuse.
Yet he still felt something was off, it wasn't that he noticed Joshua guiding the conversation, but the atmosphere felt strange.
Just then, a sudden realization struck Zong Le, reminding him of something he had overlooked for a long time.
Joshua had once admitted something outright.
He said he was gay!!! (Panicked face)
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