Reincarnated In a Cthulhu World And Everyone Is Obsessed With Me - Chapter 52

Chapter 52: Borrowing a Light – The greatest possession, the smallest selfishness.

Xia Mingyu turned his head and asked softly, “Shall we go?”

Sheikh took a deep look at him and stepped to his side. “Yes, let’s go.”

On the way back from the Arena to the Iron Nest, they would encounter thirteen corners, pass seven bars open in the early hours, and hear the clinking of glasses and the muffled sounds of intimacy through thin walls. This was the noisy world in Sheikh’s ears—where life, death, love, and desire were born in the same instant.

A second later, Sheikh heard his own voice: “Xia Mingyu, let’s take shelter from the rain under the eaves ahead for a moment.” He asked almost tentatively, “Is that alright?”

Xia Mingyu was in a hurry for his surgery, but he stopped. “Wait for the rain to let up? Okay.”

—The rain will only get heavier. Sheikh knew this better than anyone. His intention was simple: he wanted to spend a little more time with Xia before their inevitable parting.

The space under the “eaves” was narrow. It was the first time Xia had been this close to Nathanael while fully conscious. He stood straight, arms crossed, seemingly deep in thought. Sheikh noted that Xia was a “refined” man; even in the apocalypse, he never allowed himself to look disheveled.

Sheikh decided to steal only the length of one cigarette. After that, Nathanael would vanish into the rainy night, and “Sheikh” would return to his cold, precise operation.

He lit a cigarette using mental friction. A puff of smoke drifted out, obscuring the blue moon before dissipating.

“You’re smoking?” Xia’s tone was flat.

“Do you dislike the smell? Sorry…” Sheikh moved to extinguish it, but Xia stopped him.

“No need. I don’t mind.” Xia smiled at the man’s hesitation. “Do you have another?”

Sheikh handed him a fresh cigarette. Xia spun it skillfully between his fingers, placed it between his lips, and leaned in. “Borrowing a light.”

For a few brief seconds, as Xia leaned toward him, his long, curled hair spilled out from the black cloak, brushing against Sheikh’s hand. Sheikh unhooked a strand of hair caught on his coat button but didn’t let go immediately. Xia didn’t pull away.

Red embers passed from one cigarette to another. Breath mingled. It was Sheikh’s cloak wrapped around Xia, but in this moment, it was Sheikh who felt enveloped by Xia’s presence.

This “intimacy” was as dangerous as the failed assassination embrace from before.

“When the rain stops, are you going back to Shadow?” Xia asked.

Lowering defenses with ambiguity, then probing for information. It was a classic tactic, but with Xia’s beauty, it felt devastatingly effective.

“Yes,” Sheikh replied. Usually, he didn’t fall for such tricks. But for Xia, he made an exception.

…

Xia took a drag, his voice turning lower and raspier from the nicotine. “Back at the White Dove Academy, I had a brief encounter with the Shadow Guild. Lady Teresa… did you know her? She taught the basics of mental control.”

He was testing the waters. “Lady Teresa let something slip in class. She mentioned… Chief Sheikh.”

Xia was curious. Was he truly killed by Sheikh in his past life? Could he avoid that fate? But he felt his probing was failing—Nathanael seemed to see right through him and was playing along.

“Chief Sheikh? What did Teresa say?” Sheikh asked.

“She said that even in the early days of the apocalypse, the Chief’s mental power was enough to sustain a micro-universe. I’m curious… is that actually possible?”

“It is. It’s not that difficult,” Sheikh replied. He had been the first to discover this usage. “Do you want to see?”

Xia was surprised. “You can do it too?” He wondered if this was a mandatory skill for Shadow’s high-ranking members.

“Look at me,” Sheikh said softly.

He flicked his ash. In Xia’s mental vision, the falling ash transformed into meteors with glowing tails, floating between them. Sheikh extinguished his cigarette, and the half-burnt butt became a black hole at the center of the drifting stars.

Then—BOOM.

A simulated Big Bang. A micro-universe of nebulae, galaxies, and planetary rings filled Xia’s vision. It was precise enough to simulate the birth of life.

“How?” Xia whispered, breathless.

“By constructing a complete, self-consistent set of rules,” Sheikh said, the starlight reflecting in his aqua-blue eyes. “Imagine you are the creator; build the rules with that conviction.”

“Why would the Chief build a small universe?” Xia wondered aloud. Surely not just to show off?

Sheikh looked at him and smiled faintly. “Who knows? Maybe it was to coax someone. Do you like it?”

A universe in a cigarette butt. A secret known only to two people.

“Thank you. It’s magnificent,” Xia smiled. They talked of paradoxes like the Penrose Stairs and the imaginative nature of post-apocalyptic science.

The rain hammered down. Xia’s hair curled in the dampness. He asked, “How do you know Gustav? I didn’t think Shadow elites associated with the Ruin.”

“We met at the Research Institute,” Sheikh explained. “We went on missions together. He settled here after retiring.”

“You were at the Research Institute too?” Xia caught the detail. “Then you know about the Metamorphosis Project?”

“Scientific logic determines where we start, but humanity determines where we end,” Sheikh said softly. “Gustav terminated Metamorphosis himself. He always dreamed of being a villain; I suppose I’ve ruined his disguise.”

…

They discussed the “Core Theory”—the idea that the world is a nut, with destruction coming from the outside and rebirth from the inside.

“If the world is a nut, what are we?” Sheikh asked, his voice trailing off. What answer could he hope for? They were nothing to each other yet.

“Us?” Xia laughed softly, giving him a graceful out. “We are the people inside the nut, watching the stars together.”

The micro-universe shimmered between them. It was a polite, decent answer that kept the distance without being cold.

Xia reached out, and his silver mental power flowed out like mist, covering the “nut universe.” When the mist cleared, Sheikh’s galaxy had turned into… A Cotton Candy Universe.

The nebulae were spun sugar; the planets were colorful candies.

“Why cotton candy?” Sheikh asked, amused.

“I imagine myself as the guy spinning cotton candy to make a child happy,” Xia joked. He wouldn’t admit he just lacked the physics knowledge to make a real galaxy. He preferred to offset “greatness” with the “mundane.”

Sheikh’s smile deepened. “That’s good.”

The rain was so loud now it almost drowned out their voices. Xia felt the chill. “Will the rain get smaller, Nathanael?”

Xia’s knowing smile told Sheikh that he knew—from the very beginning—that this rain wouldn’t end easily. He knew there was no roof.

Sheikh’s heart skipped a beat, causing the “eaves” to leak. He caught the drops with his ability before they hit Xia.

—There were never any eaves. Sheikh had simply used his power to part the torrential rain into a transparent, flat ceiling. It vibrated like a pond’s surface, mimicking the rhythm of his own heart.

“Shall we go back?”

“…Yes.”

The damp, ambiguous Northern Ruin. The damp, settled sins. The damp, unspoken connection under a shared invisible roof.

The rain poured all night, shattering the glass bottle of a young man’s first love, scattering a floor full of insatiable wishes. From tonight on, they were all stamped with the name Xia Mingyu.

This was Nathanael’s greatest possession. This was Sheikh’s smallest selfishness.