After Transmigrating, I Raised Cubs in the Insectoid Clan - Chapter 36

Samuel could no longer remember how long he had been standing there. Time seemed to freeze at that moment. Half of his body had long since lost sensation, feeling as numb as if it had been soaked in ice water. His fingers, hanging at his side, trembled unconsciously, still retaining the chill from when they were pressed against the glass.

Through the massive one-way mirror, his gaze fell vacantly upon Suter. The harsh, blinding lights of the interrogation room cast a glow over Suter, making that familiar figure seem like an utter stranger.

Samuel stood there in silence as the concept of time became blurred. Perhaps it had only been a moment, or perhaps a century had passed. The voices reaching his ears drifted in and out, sounding as if they were filtered through thick frosted glass or like sharp needles piercing his eardrums. They were fleeting and unstable, like duckweed in water with no roots to hold onto.

A single tear escaped the confines of his eye and slid slowly down his pale cheek. It hovered for a fraction of a second on his sharp chin before falling silently to the cold floor, shattering into countless tiny points of light.

Samuel had only listened to half of the interrogation. The dizziness brought on by excessive blood loss crawled through his limbs like cold venom. His vision blurred, and his legs grew uncontrollably weak. Eventually, medical staff forcibly took him back to the reception room where he had previously spoken with Lemans to receive an intravenous drip.

This room was equipped with a precise climate control system that felt like eternal spring. Yet, as Samuel sat on the soft sofa, he could feel the icy liquid entering his body through the tube. He stared dully at a small, circular spot of light on his fingertip, then turned his head toward the window following the direction of the light.

Through the gaps in the blinds, bright sunlight poured in, casting mottled shadows on the floor. Last night’s rainstorm had ceased, and the sky was now brilliantly clear. Outside the window, a tree of an unknown species swayed gently in the breeze.

Samuel sat quietly at the intersection of light and shadow, watching the rays slowly drift across the floor. Finally, the door opened, and Lemans appeared at the entrance. Lemans frowned at the young male insect sinking into the sofa. Samuel’s face was so pale it was nearly transparent, and even his lips were almost colorless.

“Have you made up your mind?” Lemans asked.

Samuel remained silent for a moment before his lips quirked into a stiff, faint smile. “I am taking him away,” he said softly.

Lemans raised an eyebrow. “You truly are persistent to a fault.”

Samuel wanted to argue, but the forced smile vanished. His fingers clenched into a fist, pressing hard against his lips as he doubled over, erupting into a fit of bone-shaking coughing. When he finally lowered his hand, Lemans clearly saw the startling bloodstains between his fingers.

“I am persistent,” Samuel gasped, “but I do so willingly. I cannot blame anyone else.”

Lemans looked at him in silence for a moment, ultimately lacking the heart to tell him that the military’s pardon had been issued minutes ago. Even if Samuel had not come, Suter would have been released soon.

“Do you need me to arrange for someone to take you back?”

“No. I will wait for him.”

Samuel forced himself to sit upright, his thin shoulders looking exceptionally frail beneath the oversized hospital gown. The sunlight outside remained bright, yet it lingered only at his feet, refusing to climb an inch higher. The small spot of light lay quietly against his ankle like a gentle cat.

“I might need to borrow your space for a moment to say a few words to him,” Samuel said. “We will leave shortly.”

Lemans simply nodded indifferently and left a guard at the door to ensure Samuel did not have another medical emergency. A while later, a doctor entered to remove the needle from the back of Samuel’s hand. Samuel took a cotton swab to press against the site and leaned back into the corner of the sofa. The burning pain in his throat caused his body to tense involuntarily. Every swallow felt like downing crushed glass, a sharp agony spreading from his throat to his chest.

A feverish heat made Samuel feel groggy and breathless. He tried to take a deep breath, but it triggered a violent coughing fit that caused a black mist to explode before his eyes. He arched his back, pressing his forehead against his knees, waiting for the vertigo to pass. The cotton swab fell from his hand, and beads of blood slowly seeped out.

The Confrontation

Just as Samuel felt himself swaying on the brink of collapse, a pair of arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind. A cold scent enveloped him, smelling of gunpowder and blood. A broad palm gently covered Samuel’s bleeding hand, pressing a clean cotton ball precisely onto the needle mark. Samuel could feel the slight trembling of the other person’s fingertips.

He turned around with difficulty and met Suter’s bloodshot eyes. Suter’s jaw was clamped shut, and a black suppression collar bound his neck, leaving deep red marks on his skin.

“Do not move. Do not move,” Suter whispered.

Suter rested his chin on the top of Samuel’s head, carefully avoiding his injuries as he pulled him into an embrace. The hug was so tight it was almost suffocating, yet as gentle as if he were holding a fragile treasure. Samuel could clearly feel the violent thumping of Suter’s heart against his back.

“Breathe,” Suter said softly, stroking Samuel’s spine. “Breathe with me.”

His chest rose and fell rhythmically, guiding Samuel to calm his breathing. He placed a palm on Samuel’s burning forehead, his fingertips gently wiping away the tears that had overflowed from the corners of Samuel’s eyes.

“Why did you come? You should not have come,” Suter whispered, his voice thick with pain. “It is too cold here. Your body cannot take it.”

Suter had already instructed Terand to handle the remaining matters. He had planned the timing perfectly, certain that he could return to Samuel’s side before he even woke up. He wanted Samuel to see him the moment he opened his eyes.

Suter tilted his head slightly, his dry lips lightly touching Samuel’s wet eyelashes. He tasted the salt of the tears but did not understand why his lover was crying. Just as he wanted to deepen the kiss, Samuel suddenly raised a hand to press against his chest.

The force was light, barely enough to be called a push, yet it caused Suter to freeze. He slowly sat up and saw Samuel turn his head away, his pale profile nearly transparent under the lights. A tear slid down his nose and vanished at the corner of his tightly pressed lips.

“Samuel?” Suter’s voice trembled with uncertainty. He wanted to move closer, but his movement stopped when his eyes caught sight of the brown file folder on the glass table.

The reception room fell into a dead silence, broken only by Suter’s erratic breathing. Suter’s hand hung in mid-air before slowly dropping. He gazed at Samuel’s trembling eyelashes, a sudden realization hitting him.

“You read it?”

Samuel remained silent. He finally turned his head back, and Suter realized that he was truly weeping. His pale lips trembled, and his voice was so soft it seemed it might vanish. “I heard everything.”

“I was right behind that mirror, listening to you say,” Samuel’s voice caught, and he took a deep breath. “Listening to you say that you suspected me, that you never trusted me.”

Suter’s pupils shrank, and his Adam’s apple bobbed violently beneath the suppression collar. He wanted to reach out but froze when he saw Samuel’s reddened eyes. He was shaking all over, wanting to explain, but he found all words to be hollow. Those cold words he had spoken in the interrogation room to secure his release were, to some extent, true and undeniable. He had indeed monitored him, suspected him, and in those early days, felt panic.

“Every word,” Samuel’s fingertips dug deep into his palms. “Every single word. I heard them clearly.”

His voice grew softer, and then Samuel suddenly laughed. “The most ridiculous part is that I was actually making excuses for you.”

Silence reclaimed the room. Samuel looked up at Suter with tearful eyes, a final shred of hope still lingering within them. Perhaps Suter would explain; perhaps there was a hidden meaning to those words. But Suter simply stood there in silence, the suppression collar on his neck flickering with a cold blue light.

His silence was more lethal than any words, like a blunt knife slowly flaying Samuel’s heart.

“Say something,” Samuel said, his voice beginning to shake. “Why do you not argue with me? Refute me!”

Even at this stage, Samuel did not say a harsh word to Suter; he still held a tiny bit of expectation. He did not believe the love he felt was fake or merely a disguise by Suter. He waited. No matter what Suter said, as long as he said it, Samuel would believe him.

“Speak. Even if you just make up a reason to lie to me.”

But there was nothing. Nothing at all.

The Breaking Point

Samuel suddenly began to cough violently, his thin frame swaying like a candle in the wind. A mouthful of fresh blood erupted from his lips without warning, splashing onto the floor between them. Samuel pressed his hand to his lips, but more blood seeped through his fingers, pooling into a startling crimson stain on the floor.

Suter supported the reeling Samuel, his arms wrapping tightly around Samuel’s waist. His palms could clearly feel the trembling of Samuel’s body, a weakness that was approaching its limit.

“Let us go back first, okay?” Suter’s voice was so low it did not sound like his own, the end of the sentence carrying a nearly imperceptible sob. He had never pleaded like this before, and in this moment, he was truly terrified. He repeated, almost begging, “Okay?”

Samuel did not answer. He simply tilted his head slightly, his pale fingertips slowly reaching for the suppression collar around Suter’s neck. This gesture, which seemed almost tender, caused Suter to instinctively tense his body. He dared not move, dared not even breathe.

But he soon realized something was wrong.

With a soft click, the metal restraint fell away. But also removed was the silver chain that Suter never took off. It was the very first necklace Samuel had given him.

Samuel’s fingertips gripped the silver chain tightly. The small, whimsical pendant dangled in the air, swaying slightly like a blunt blade slowly carving into Samuel’s eyes.

“No,” Suter’s voice was squeezed from his throat, carrying a sense of desperate foreboding.

He reached out to stop him, but before his fingertips could touch Samuel’s wrist, the other man pushed him away with force. The silver chain flashed through the air in a blinding arc before slamming hard against the ground.

The sound of the pendant shattering was crisp and cruel. Shimmering fragments flew in all directions, one of them grazing the skin under Samuel’s eye. It left a tiny cut where a bead of blood slowly seeped out, sliding down his pale skin like a tear of blood.

“Go back?” Samuel asked, blood continuing to leak from the corner of his mouth. “Back where?”

He looked up at Suter. His obsidian eyes held not a trace of warmth, as cold as the eternal night of the far north. That gaze was so unfamiliar that Suter felt his breathing hitch. This was Samuel’s true self, or rather, the face he showed to the world. He was indifferent, sharp, and entirely without warmth.

The gentleness, the indulgence, and even the helpless smiles Suter once knew were only there because Samuel loved him. Because of love, he had been indulgent without limits.

“There is no longer a home.”

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