No Pampering the Vicious Cannon Fodder! [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 15

Kahn received the news from the hotel manager.

He had given a heads-up beforehand, saying he would send someone today to sign contracts with the fighters, and instructed the manager to charge the bill to his own name.

As it turned out, when the manager saw the fists-and-kicks display in the lobby, he thought it was a hardcore interview process specifically arranged by Kahn. He wondered to himself if this selection was a bit too extreme—starting directly with actual combat?

So he hurriedly called Kahn, cautiously advising that if they wanted to test fighting skills, he suggested switching to a spacious outdoor venue.

The phrasing was so euphemistic that it took Kahn a moment to react—they were fighting.

Unexpected, yet damnably logical.

He had already guessed that Jing Yue would give up the meeting for Xin Rong’s sake, but being able to beat several professional fighters to this state, even by Jing Yue’s standards… was a bit over the top.

Fortunately, since the manager misunderstood first, Kahn went along with the error, turning a major storm into a minor joke, making it out to be a funny anecdote instead.

This time, Kahn came in his private hovercar. Before leaving, he ordered someone to shove that broken motorcycle Jing Yue had conveniently snatched from the arena into the back seat. Like a parent cleaning up a mess, he led the two awkward parties toward the garage.

Xin Rong followed behind with his head lowered like an ostrich burying its head in the sand. He wasn’t looking at the road at all, swaying every three steps, nearly colliding with pillars several times.

Seeing this, Jing Yue reached out to support him, but was shaken off without hesitation.

The rejected hand froze in mid-air. After a moment of silence, he finally withdrew it silently. He slowed his pace by half a beat, following quietly behind, saying nothing.

When getting into the car, Jing Yue opened the door for him first, looking back at Xin Rong with a clear tone of peace-making: “You go first—”

As a result, Xin Rong didn’t even grant him a glance from the corner of his eye. He bypassed him straight to the back seat, curled into a ball next to the motorcycle, and buried his head in his knees.

Jing Yue stood by the car door, hands on his hips, staring at his silhouette.

Thin and small, the boy was almost seamlessly wedged into the gaps of the motorcycle, yet his spine was held rigidly straight like a fully drawn bow. Even the tips of his hair stubbornly refused his approach.

Jing Yue raised a hand to rub his brow. After a long while, he let out a low sigh and returned to the front row alone. He didn’t say a word, though his usually upright back was now unconsciously slightly hunched.

The car drove back to the arena in silence.

It was already the early hours of the morning. Pedestrians on the street were sparse, with only a few scattered couples leaning against each other for a stroll.

Reaching the entrance of the low building, Xin Rong stopped his tracks and whispered: “I’m sorry, Brother Kahn, for causing you so much trouble today.”

“What does this count as?” Kahn smiled breezily. “To be honest, it let me see clearly that these so-called ‘excellent Alpha fighters’ are nothing more than this. It seems I’ll have to reconsider whether to sign those contracts or not.”

Hearing this, Xin Rong’s expression relaxed a bit, and a strained curve appeared at the corner of his lips.

“Then I’ll be going, Brother Kahn. I still have classes tomorrow.”

Kahn rubbed his head and said softly: “Go on.”

Just then, Jing Yue suddenly stepped forward as if snapping out of a daze, his voice urgent: “Wait—”

Upon hearing this, the obedience on Xin Rong’s face vanished instantly. He turned back to glare at him fiercely before turning his back completely.

Jing Yue, refusing to give up, circled to the other side, acting with a stubbornness as if he had to make Xin Rong look him in the eye.

Before he could even speak, Xin Rong roared out, having reached the limit of his patience.

“Are you ever going to finish?!”

“I just wanted to say—”

“Don’t say anything!” Xin Rong gritted his teeth. “How could a ‘loose and indecent person’ like me be worthy of hearing you speak?”

Jing Yue was struck speechless by the return of his own boomerang. His face shifted between pale and green. He unconsciously touched the tip of his nose, his voice labored: “Xin Rong, I—”

Xin Rong directly plugged his ears, refusing to listen further.

Jing Yue instinctively reached out to grab that slender white wrist. The moment his fingertips touched a bit of softness, Xin Rong yanked away as if avoiding a plague and turned to run.

He chased for two steps but was stopped by Kahn: “Let him be quiet for a while.”

Jing Yue’s footsteps faltered. He staggered back a step and leaned against the wall, his body slowly sliding down as if he had been drained of his bones.

He didn’t know how he could have done something so impulsive.

The contracts were clearly right before his eyes, yet he didn’t even have the patience to take a look, rashly deciding that Xin Rong was that kind of light person, even saying those bastard words.

He completely understood why Xin Rong wouldn’t forgive him.

After all, even he himself wanted to slap his own face.

But when he saw those three Alphas surrounding Xin Rong like that, nothing remained in his head but Kahn’s words echoing: “Pheromones dominate in love; no one can defy biological instinct.”

He couldn’t think calmly at all. His heart held only one thought.

Xin Rong was going to leave him.

Suddenly, he turned around and slammed his fist hard against the cold concrete wall.

Bang—

His knuckles instantly split open, blood gushing out and soaking the grey-white concrete with a startling red.

Standing to the side, Kahn’s throat moved slightly, but in the end, he said nothing.

Although he wasn’t at the scene, he could piece together how overboard Jing Yue’s words must have been just from the fragments of their conversation.

In the boxing ring, Jing Yue was a king admired by thousands. In life, he was self-reliant and responsible, with even a physical disability unable to dull his edge.

But he was only nineteen years old.

In terms of emotions, he was a blank sheet of paper, too proud to bow his head. Stubborn, twisted, and far too immature.

Kahn sighed and crouched down beside him.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me…” Jing Yue’s voice was too hoarse to hold a tune. Drops of blood fell from his fingertips one by one onto his pant leg, blooming into dark stains.

He who had just taken on three Alphas single-handedly without a scratch was now making himself bleed profusely.

“You know,” Kahn sighed softly, “you’re just afraid to face it.”

Jing Yue said nothing more. His empty gaze drifted toward the thick night sky. His whole being seemed to melt into the darkness, leaving only a lonely and dejected silhouette.

After returning from the hotel, Xin Rong didn’t speak for an entire day.

At school the next day, he listened to classes in silence. From time to time, he heard 050 telling him jokes in his head to lighten the mood, but his responses were lackluster.

To be honest, 050 didn’t quite understand.

Logically, as a task-taker for the Vicious Cannon Fodder Roleplay System, the host should have long been used to being hated by the protagonist.

After all, the more one is hated, the better it proves the mission was completed. The points would be higher, and the revenge plan could move forward faster.

What 050 didn’t understand, Xin Rong couldn’t explain either.

Logically, he should be happy.

The deterioration of the relationship with the protagonist meant a higher score—maybe he could even complete the mission early.

But every time he closed his eyes, Jing Yue’s cold, heartless gaze and those vicious slanders surfaced in his mind.

His heart always felt as if it were being pricked by needles, a dense ache spreading through it.

It felt like… it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It felt as though everyone in this world could hate him, except for Jing Yue.

By evening, the arena was brightly lit.

Xin Rong hadn’t planned to come; after all, he really didn’t want to see a certain person surnamed Jing again. But he had caused Kahn so much trouble last night that he had to give some sort of account.

Although the person to blame was someone else, he couldn’t get over the hurdle in his heart. As compensation, he offered to work for free at the arena for a week.

Anyway, as long as he stayed obediently by Andy’s side, there was a high probability he wouldn’t run into that annoying pest.

However, Heaven does not always grant people’s wishes.

Sometimes when a person is unlucky, even a sip of cold water gets stuck in their teeth.

Just as Xin Rong reached the arena entrance, that upright figure burst into his line of sight.

Jing Yue stood there quietly, like a tall poplar tree, particularly conspicuous in the twilight, as if afraid someone wouldn’t see him.

Xin Rong’s footsteps shifted, and without a word, he turned around, quickly taking the side path and running away with his head down.

As a result, just as he rounded a corner, he unexpectedly crashed into a firm chest.

Looking up, those lead-gray eyes were staring at him calmly.

Xin Rong froze on the spot. His dark eyes rolled up, down, left, and right like glass marbles, staring blankly at the person who had descended from the sky, utterly baffled.

“Where did you pop out from?”

Jing Yue lowered his gaze, a trace of an indiscernible smile flashing in his eyes: “Is there any path here I’m not familiar with?”

His voice wasn’t heavy, but it carried a hint of mockery that was impossible to ignore, which Xin Rong caught keenly.

His face instantly turned dark and heavy. Rage flared up, and he turned to leave without hesitation.

Jing Yue’s voice came from behind: “I picked strawberries for you.”

Xin Rong turned back to see him holding a basket filled with pale pink strawberries.

They were exactly his favorites—wild strawberries from the high mountains.

His heart skipped a beat involuntarily, but he quickly suppressed that bit of wavering. His gaze turned cold and his heart hardened as he said viciously: “Don’t think that just because you’re acting so hypocritical, I’ll forgive you!”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Jing Yue sighed, his tone softening a bit. “I picked them in the morning. the dew is already gone. How about I pick another basket tomorrow morning and send it to your school?”

Seeing him not speaking, Jing Yue added slowly and deliberately: “Kahn said you have classes at the First Military Academy Preparatory School. I’m well-acquainted with the guard there. I’ll have him hand them over to you, how about that?”

“…No need!” Xin Rong shouted at him, not forgetting to cover his eyes at the end. “Didn’t I say? I never want to see you again!”

Jing Yue was silent for a moment, his brow arching slightly: “What you said last time was that you never wanted to hear me speak again.”

“Then now I want neither to see nor to hear!”

After Xin Rong finished speaking, he hurried to cover his ears as well, but as a result, his eyes were exposed. In his frantic movements, he showed a look of frustration.

This appearance was simply so cute it made one’s heart soften.

Jing Yue pursed his lips to suppress a smile. His voice was low, like a soft breath.

“Stupid.”

As soon as he spoke, he stepped toward Xin Rong, extending a long arm to firmly grab his hand.

The moment their fingers intertwined, a warm sensation spread through the gaps, enveloping Xin Rong’s palm.

Jing Yue grasped his thumb and pressed it lightly against his earlobe, then his fingertips shifted, patiently guiding his fingers one by one to cover his eyes.

The calloused finger pads brushed against his eyelashes. The rough sensation made him instinctively close his eyes; physiological tears immediately soaked through, swirling helplessly in his eyes.

“You have to do it like this.”

The low, raspy voice was wrapped in magnetism, like a feather brushing past his eardrums, triggering a wave of numbness.

Xin Rong peeked through the gaps of his fingers, staring directly into the playful mirth in those lead-gray eyes.

He reacted instantly—he had been played!

He could clearly see, and he could hear too!!

Rage instantly flared from his heart. Xin Rong violently shook off Jing Yue’s hand and turned to run.

After running a few steps, he suddenly stopped and turned back.

Xin Rong kept his head down, his mouth slightly pouting, his eyes shimmering with tears. He stood on the spot panting for breath.

Then, he raised one hand to shield his eyes, refusing to let himself look at Jing Yue at any cost.

Following that, he snatched the basket from Jing Yue’s hand, clutched it in his arms, and turned to run away at high speed, his movements as nimble as a little thief.

Regarding his behavior, Xin Rong had a very logical explanation.

Considering Jing Yue’s prior criminal record of almost throwing away an entire basket of strawberries, he couldn’t give him the chance to offend again.

Since the strawberries were picked, they absolutely must not be wasted!

The next day, Xin Rong went to the preparatory school for classes as usual.

Sure enough, the guard stopped him and handed him a basket of strawberries.

Based on the same reason mentioned above, Xin Rong had to accept them.

The third day, same logic.

The fourth day, same logic.

…Until the fifth day.

This morning, Xin Rong lingered at the guard post at a slow pace as usual, his peripheral vision instinctively sweeping toward the table.

Empty.

He froze for a moment. His gaze scanned around, but there wasn’t even a shadow of a basket to be seen.

A surge of inexplicable loss suddenly welled up in his heart, which he quickly suppressed as he strode away.

It was only the fifth day, and he already couldn’t persist.

Is this his so-called “apology”?

…It’s nothing more than this!

The day’s classes passed in a daze. Xin Rong couldn’t summon any interest at all. He endured until evening and went to the arena to work as usual.

Just as he pushed open the bar door, he sensed the atmosphere was wrong.

Kahn, who usually greeted him with prepared snacks and a smile, didn’t come forward. Instead, he was sitting in a corner, looking overwhelmed and constantly looking down at his phone.

Xin Rong looked around and saw Andy not far away. Just as he was about to walk over to say hello, Andy walked over first.

“Little beauty, we’re not open today. Go back.”

Hearing this, Xin Rong realized that several fighters who were supposed to be on stage tonight were currently gathered in the bar.

“What’s wrong?” he asked instinctively.

Andy’s expression was complex. After a moment of silence, he exhaled two words: “Nothing.”

An inexplicable sense of unease rose in Xin Rong’s heart. He pressed for an answer with undisguised anxiety: “What exactly happened?”

After a long while, Andy finally spoke.

“It’s Jing Yue.” his expression was incredibly grave. “Something happened to him.”