I Can’t Keep Being a Scumbag Anymore—What Should I Do? [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 18

When he was grabbed by the collar and dragged into the empty private room, Ran Muqiu was paralyzed with fear.

In an instant, only one thought remained in his mind: as expected, Feng Qin finally couldn’t resist the urge to beat him up.

Ran Muqiu knew it—there was no being a “Scum Gong” without eventually getting hit.

In fact, according to the original script’s timeline, the Protagonist Gong and the Cannon Fodder Gong should have had several “friendly exchanges” by now. Yet, ever since Feng Qin had pelted him with a basketball once, he hadn’t really been targeted again.

So, Ran Muqiu had held onto a bit of wishful thinking, feeling that he might be lucky—that he wouldn’t end up as miserable as the Scum Bully in the original script.

But now, it seemed Feng Qin had reached his limit.

Uuuu! I shouldn’t have been in such a rush to push the plot!

The lights in the room were off, leaving it pitch black. Ran Muqiu was tossed onto a sofa. He turned around, but it was too dark; even as he strained his eyes, he could only see a faint silhouette gradually looming over him like a massive beast.

Panic-stricken, Ran Muqiu scrambled off the sofa, trying to find somewhere else to hide.

The room wasn’t large, but it was densely furnished. He stumbled blindly, his knees and legs aching as they knocked against the hard sofa armrests and coffee tables.

After a few steps, he backed into a wall.

Like a wolf cornering a rabbit, Feng Qin followed him at a leisurely pace. Seeing that Ran Muqiu was about to slam into the wall, he extended a long arm and pulled him back, narrowly preventing him from hitting his head.

“Where do you think you’re scurrying off to?”

With the wall behind him and the boy’s tall frame in front, Ran Muqiu was completely boxed in. He finally had nowhere left to run.

Left with no other option, he pressed himself as flat as possible against the wall to minimize his presence, whispering, “What do you want?”

“Nothing much.” Feng Qin looked down at him, his tone deliberate and slow. “I just want to see if that mouth of yours—aside from being so sharp and so good at annoying people can be put to any other use.”

In the darkness, Ran Muqiu couldn’t see Feng Qin’s expression. Just hearing his voice made him feel as though the other man wanted to strip the skin from his bones.

Ran Muqiu practically tried to shrink into himself, his voice trembling. “Then can you turn the lights on first?”

The boy’s voice was thick with obvious panic, and he was shaking slightly. Feng Qin paused. After a long moment, he said in an unreadable tone: “You can’t see?”

Ran Muqiu bit his lip, feeling an inexplicable sense of grievance, and remained silent.

He did indeed have a mild case of night blindness.

For the sake of convenience, Ran Muqiu always performed his transmigration missions in his own body rather than occupying someone else’s. Before entering a world, the system could adjust one or two physical attributes at the host’s request, provided it didn’t disrupt the world order. Since his night blindness wasn’t severe and the adjustment required a significant amount of points, he had never brought it up.

Most of the time, it didn’t affect his life, but nervous tension always exacerbated the symptoms.

Like right now.

Ran Muqiu didn’t want to expose his weakness to the Protagonist Gong. He kept his head down and his mouth shut, saying nothing.

A moment later, Ran Muqiu heard a low chuckle. Panic flared, but before he could react, a firm, hard arm encircled his waist. Then, without warning, his tightly pressed lips were pried open.

The other man was like a predatory wolf. Likely due to his anger, his movements weren’t gentle from the start. He invaded with broad strokes, finding Ran Muqiu’s tongue and refusing to let go, while nipping repeatedly at his full lips. It didn’t feel like intimacy; it felt like a punishment.

Ran Muqiu’s mind went blank for half a second. Once he regained his senses, muffled whimpers leaked through his teeth as he instinctively tried to push the man away.

But his struggling strength was negligible to the other man. Feng Qin freed one hand to easily restrain him, pulling him even closer until their hips were practically pressed together.

Ran Muqiu whimpered, enduring several rounds of fierce licking and biting before he managed to regain a sliver of lucidity.

The Protagonist Gong was clearly a novice.

Though his actions were crude, they were also unrefined. As he licked and kissed Ran Muqiu’s lips without any real technique, he seemed like a beast on its first hunt.

He was actually a bit like that other person.

Ran Muqiu had only ever been kissed by these two people in his life. Their styles were remarkably similar—focused and obsessive, fixated on one spot as if they wanted to swallow that soft, tender flesh whole.

Even with a few similar experiences under his belt, Ran Muqiu still couldn’t handle this style of kissing. His brain grew hazy from a lack of oxygen, and his resistance began to soften. One hand pressed weakly against the other’s chest.

Rather than pushing him away, it looked more like he was acting spoiled.

This apparent submission clearly improved Feng Qin’s mood. His kisses quickly became gentler. He gripped Ran Muqiu’s waist and lifted him slightly, never breaking contact with his lips. He was about to carry Ran Muqiu toward the sofa in that position.

Just then, a set of footsteps echoed from the corridor, approaching the room.

The footsteps grew closer, finally coming to a halt right outside the door.

A moment later, a knock sounded on the door. “Xiao Qiu?”

The voice was very familiar, though a bit deeper than usual, carrying a heavy echo from the empty hallway.

Ran Muqiu froze.

The person wreaking havoc on his lips stopped as well.

The inside and outside of the room fell into a long silence, like a tense standoff.

Finally, Feng Qin was the first to react. He chuckled, leaning close to Ran Muqiu’s ear to whisper, “Xiao Qiu?”

He was repeating the name the person outside had just called. His breath was warm, yet his tone was so icy it sent a shiver down Ran Muqiu’s spine.

“Who is he calling for?” The arm around the boy’s waist tightened slowly. Feng Qin lowered his head, looking at the crown of the boy’s soft hair. “You?”

Ran Muqiu’s brain stalled. He was unable to analyze the situation with logic; instinct took over instantly. He only knew that, no matter what, he could not let Li Zhu realize he was inside!

“It’s not me!” He hurriedly reached out to cover the boy’s mouth, whispering urgently, “Don’t, don’t make a sound.”

In the darkness, Ran Muqiu couldn’t see Feng Qin’s face, but he could feel the other man’s expression darken instantly at his words.

Feng Qin was silent for a moment before pulling Ran Muqiu’s hand away from his mouth. “What, are you afraid he’ll find you?”

He made no effort to keep his voice down.

Ran Muqiu was frantic. While trying to cover the boy’s mouth again, he stammered a retort: “Aren’t you afraid too?”

The Protagonist Gong should be more scared than he was, right?

This bar wasn’t a good place; Ran Muqiu vaguely recalled that in the original script, the protagonists had fought because the Gong had a gathering with friends here.

Because he couldn’t see clearly, his hand fumbled blindly around Feng Qin’s neck. He seemed to press against something, and his hand was immediately caught. Holding him by the wrist, Feng Qin pulled him back against himself.

“Why would I be afraid?” Feng Qin leaned down, pinning him back against the wall in their previous position. His long legs bracketed Ran Muqiu’s slender ones, making it impossible for him to move. He let out a scoff. “Only the one doing something wrong should be afraid.”

Feng Qin was tall and heavy; the full weight of his body pressing down was stifling. To make matters worse, he looked ready to continue exactly where they had left off.

Terrified, Ran Muqiu stopped arguing about whether he’d done something wrong. He used all his strength to try and push Feng Qin away while simultaneously keeping one ear out for the movement at the door.

His nerves were stretched to the breaking point.

Outside the door, Li Zhu only knocked two or three times. Seeing that no one was coming to open it, he stopped.

But he didn’t leave. He simply stood there in silence, so still that one might have thought he had quietly departed.

Just as Feng Qin heavily kissed his lips again, Ran Muqiu heard another sound.

The beep of a phone call being placed, followed by the ringing before it connects.

Li Zhu was standing outside the door, making a call.

He didn’t know who was being called, only that the other party wasn’t answering. Li Zhu placed the call repeatedly, as if he were locked in a stubborn contest with whoever was on the other end.

In the silence, aside from the faint, wet sounds of intimacy, Ran Muqiu could only hear that persistent ringing from the other side of the door. It was incredibly clear, like it was being drummed directly onto his eardrums.

“Who is he calling?” Feng Qin had clearly heard it too. He paused in the act of nipping at Ran Muqiu’s lip, pulling back slightly to ask a question he already knew the answer to. “You?”

Ran Muqiu took the opportunity to turn his face away, preventing any further kisses. His mind was a mess as he stubbornly lied, “Of course not.”

But in his heart, he wondered: It couldn’t really be me, could it?

Otherwise, he couldn’t fathom what Li Zhu was doing. For some reason, thinking of Li Zhu standing right outside the door, Ran Muqiu felt a sudden, groundless surge of guilt.

This guilt seemed to have nothing to do with the mission or Heartbreak Value; it felt as though it existed solely because of Li Zhu. But Ran Muqiu, being naturally slow to realize things, couldn’t quite tell the difference.

Unable to reach his lips, Feng Qin lowered his head and bit down on Ran Muqiu’s earlobe—which was as soft as a rice cake letting out a mocking chuckle. “Smart move.”

Recalling something, he began to fumble around the boy’s waist again, asking as he searched, “So why didn’t your phone ring? Is it on silent?”

Ran Muqiu was ticklish, ashamed, and furious all at once. Terrified that the noise would be overheard by the person outside, he swatted Feng Qin’s hand away and hissed, “I don’t have my phone on me!”

His phone had been confiscated by Lu Min earlier that day; right now, it was likely still sitting in a desk drawer in the school office. No matter how long Li Zhu dialed from outside the door, there would be no sound inside.

And, of course, no one would answer.

“Oh? You knew he’d be checking up on you?” Feng Qin arched an eyebrow. “You’re quite the well-prepared cheater.”

Ran Muqiu was so angry he was speechless; he wanted to take at least five bites out of the guy.

Who’s cheating?

His “legs” were perfectly in place—it was Feng Qin who had forced his way in!

Finding no success with the calls, Li Zhu paused for a moment and finally walked away.

Only after hearing the footsteps recede did Ran Muqiu finally let out a weak sigh of relief, slumping against the wall. Immediately, a wave of inexplicable grievance flooded his heart.

“What is wrong with you?” He wiped his eyes, his voice tinged with a faint, tearful tremor as he accused Feng Qin. “What if we actually got caught?”

Setting aside what would happen to the mission progress, Ran Muqiu would be utterly mortified.

He had already been caught by the Protagonist Gong doing “this and that” with the Protagonist Shou.

Now he was facing the prospect of being caught by the Protagonist Shou doing “this and that” with the Protagonist Gong.

What kind of mess was this?

The boy’s tone was so panicked and aggrieved that he seemed to truly care about the person who had just left. Feng Qin watched him in silence for a moment before saying in a low voice, “So what if we were caught? I don’t care.”

He paused, then suddenly let out an incredibly sardonic sneer. “I’m already the ‘other man’ here; why would I give a damn about that?”

Ran Muqiu stopped rubbing his eyes, dazed for a long while, wondering if something was wrong with his hearing.

“You’re what?”

Was it the word he thought it was?

Feng Qin didn’t bother repeating himself.

“The official boyfriend is gone.” He pinched the boy’s chin, forcing him to look at him, his expression unreadable. “Can you stop thinking about him now?”

There was a hint of a smile in his voice—his usual teasing tone and he sounded even more relaxed than when they first entered.

Yet Ran Muqiu clearly heard the system, which had been silent since he was dragged into the room, issue that familiar notification in his head:

【Target [Feng Qin]: Heartbreak Value +3! Keep up the good work, Host!】