I Transmigrated Into The Secret Husband Of The Zerg Marshal - Chapter 15

Chapter 15: Sleeping Together

Arnold came out, and it was my turn to go in. Once in the bathroom, I didn’t want to come out. With a do-or-die attitude, I lingered in the bathroom for what felt like half a century.

I first thoroughly explored the shower system, which could automatically adjust water temperature and pressure, switching from Tropical Rainforest mode to Arctic Glacier mode, nearly freezing myself into a popsicle. Then, I studied the fully automatic dryer, feeling the warm air blowing across every inch of my skin from three hundred and sixty tricky angles, like a car just off the car wash production line.

In short, I used all the knowledge I’d acquired in life, treating every buttoned object in the bathroom as a bug waiting to be cracked, attempting to use the delay tactic to combat this rotten reality.

However, the tactic was futile. After experiencing every feature and even pressing on a seemingly ordinary tile on the wall for a long time to see if it was a touch screen, I had to face the fact: I had to go out.

I stood in front of the enormous mirror, looking at my own pale-faced, shifty-eyed reflection. The bathrobe I was wearing was the same style as the one Arnold had on earlier, just a different size.

The same soft fabric, carrying the same cool, high-end soap scent.

What was this? Matching couple’s robes?

I shivered, feeling my CPU starting to smoke again.

No, I needed my spiritual pillar. My stainless-steel thermos, my goji berries and red dates, my soulmate, was still abandoned somewhere. Without it, I wouldn’t even have the courage to walk out of this door tonight.

Just as I was agonizing over whether to pretend to faint or play dead, a slight tap-tap sound suddenly came from outside the bathroom door.

I jumped in fright, nearly leaping up.

“Who is it?” I whispered nervously.

There was no answer outside the door.

A few seconds later, another “tap-tap.”

I crept to the door and opened a tiny crack.

No one was outside, only my gleaming, stainless-steel thermos—the one with a few scratches I’d made out of boredom—placed conspicuously on the floor.

I was stunned, then snatched my precious thermos inside, hugging it tightly as if I were holding the whole world. The cool, familiar metallic feel radiated from my palm. I unscrewed the lid, and the steam, mixed with the sweet aroma of goji berries and red dates, wafted into my face. I was practically moved to tears.

I was alive again.

This must have been Arnold. Even though he didn’t say anything, he accurately predicted the user needs of his core resource. This guy, he’s not bad after all!

Bolstered by my thermos, I finally felt a little courage. I put on the prepared pajamas, took a deep breath, and pushed open the bathroom door.

The light in the bedroom had been dimmed considerably, leaving only a soft, ambient light strip circling the ceiling. My eyes immediately locked onto the bed, large enough for a sports event, and the figure already lying there, facing away from me.

Arnold was already asleep?

He was covered by a thin blanket, only exposing the back of his dark head. Asleep, he had shed all his sharp edges and oppressive aura, looking… surprisingly harmless. The only sound in the entire room was his steady, long breathing.

The anxiety in my heart inexplicably eased by half.

Great. As long as I didn’t have to make awkward small talk face-to-face, everything was manageable. This was like the product manager finally clocking out; I, the Party B, could also take a temporary breather.

Holding my thermos, I tiptoed, somehow feeling like a thief, and silently moved to the other side of the bed. The bed was truly enormous; the distance between us felt like two more of me could fit in between. I carefully lifted the corner of the blanket and slipped in, my body stiff as a board, inching closer to the very edge of the bed, terrified of accidentally rolling over and touching some switch I shouldn’t.

The blanket still carried his scent. That clear, crisp green grape aroma, mixed with the soap scent from the shower, wafted into my nostrils. My cheeks started to heat up, and my heart rate accelerated uncontrollably.

In my twenty-plus years of life, this was the first time I was sharing a bed with a… creature of the same external gender. This feeling was too bizarre, more maddening than writing an infinite loop bug.

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to calm down, and started mentally reciting “TCP/IP Illustrated,” from the physical layer to the application layer, attempting to use technical knowledge to override this damn awkwardness.

Just as I was mentally reciting the “three-way handshake, four-way termination” phase, and was about to enter a state of deep sleep, a faint blue light suddenly illuminated from the direction of the bedside table.

The light was particularly noticeable in the dim room.

I snapped my eyes open, turned my head, and followed the light.

It was Arnold’s personal communicator.

It was a translucent, ring-shaped smart device, thin as a cicada’s wing, currently suspended above the bedside table.

I glanced at Arnold again; his breathing remained steady, seemingly completely undisturbed.