"Finally, the day has come. The day the two male leads meet. The main plot is about to begin, and we're about to finish our first mission!"
The excited voice of 6677 rang in Saphen's ears.
Saphen quietly continued mixing his ingredients, then suddenly spoke softly in his mind: "To be honest, my part should already be over. I won't have any scenes in the future. The mission should be completed. So why haven't we gotten the completion notice yet?"
This was something Saphen had been questioning for a while. At first, he had chosen not to bring it up since he wanted to stay here a bit longer and enjoy the peaceful atmosphere.
But now the work had grown somewhat dull, and he wanted to finish as many missions as fast as possible to earn a chance to live again.
Hearing Saphen's question, 6677 stiffened for a moment. It stammered, "I sent the mission progress to the system master, but for some reason there still hasn't been a reply..."
Saphen silently stared at it.
6677 panicked immediately. "I'll go check again right away!"
Saphen let out a cold laugh but said nothing more.
The day the two male leads meet, huh? According to the script... Cain was supposed to have an interesting day. A day when love would bloom under the pretense of a substitute...
What a stupid script. If someone truly held another person in their heart, they would never look for a replacement. That was nothing but an insult.
If Cain sought someone else while still holding him in his heart, Saphen would feel nothing but disgust. Thankfully, in the future they would never need to meet again...
...
"Achoo!"
Cain suddenly sneezed, startling Mason so much that he began fussing nonstop. "You need to rest properly and not overwork yourself..."
It wasn't that Mason was worried over just a sneeze. Anyone could see Cain's current condition. Dark circles under his eyes. The look of someone who hadn't slept enough, making his expression even colder and more menacing. The employees reporting to him were sweating bullets, terrified of making even the slightest mistake.
Cain said nothing. He knew exactly where his problem lay, he just couldn't solve it...
Right then, a figure walking toward him made him pause.
When that person was just about to pass by, Cain moved as if possessed. He lifted his hand and grabbed the man's wrist, speaking on instinct.
"Wait."
The person seemed startled, their whole body shrinking back a little. They stammered, eyes glistening like a frightened fawn—so pitiful it almost hurt to look at.
No.
No, that wasn't right.
The person he was looking for wasn't this thin.
They wouldn't be this timid, this hesitant...
But fate seemed to be screaming at him that this was the one—that he should grab this person's hand, that he should do something.
Do something?
No. This wasn't right. It couldn't be.
This was definitely not the person he was searching for.
Then what about the real one?
What was he like?
Where was he now?
Why—why couldn't he remember anything?!
Cain let out a roar, clutching his head as he collapsed to his knees, his face twisting in pain. John hadn't expected anything like this and panicked. "I—I really didn't do anything!"
Instinctively, he looked toward Mason.
Mason's expression had turned extremely grim. Seeing Cain in such agony, the only thing he could do now was call the doctor.
He then turned to John and said in a low voice, "You're coming with me."
John hesitated, then nodded.
This was his first week interning at Cross Corporation. His colleagues disliked him for being too slow; earlier, he'd finally snapped and raised his voice at them. Right now, he didn't even want to go back there.
Inside the infirmary, Mason spoke quietly with the doctor while John sat beside the bed. Outside, numerous security guards stood watch—it felt like countless eyes were trained on him.
Instinctively, John clenched his hands and lowered his gaze to Cain, who lay on the bed.
This was the head of the Cross family—a young ruler… even his appearance was perfect.
John thought silently.
His eyes drifted to the golden strands of hair falling across the corner of Cain's eye. On instinct, he lifted his hand, wanting to brush them aside.
It was just a feeling—
that very moment he first saw Cain, he felt that this man would one day belong to him.
If not now, then in the future…
Right then, Cain suddenly opened his eyes.
His vision was still blurry; all he could make out was a figure beside the bed, a hazy silhouette. Everything was indistinct—except for the mole near the person's lips, which appeared strikingly clear.
Almost instinctively, Cain raised his hand and grabbed the approaching hand.
John had been startled when Cain opened his eyes. He didn't even have time to withdraw his hand before Cain grabbed it.
This…
John's eyes widened, excitement nearly overflowing—and this scene happened to be witnessed by Mason, who had just returned.
Cain felt something was wrong with the sensation of the hand he was holding—just a faint intuition.
He blinked, and his vision finally cleared.
The moment he truly saw the pair of eyes in front of him, Cain jerked upright almost instantly, flinging the hand away. He frowned, his voice cold:
"Who are you? Why are you here?"
Facing Cain like this, John stood up immediately, stammering in panic. "I—I..."
Cain felt his irritation deepen, a sharp pain pulsing in his head, making his mood even more volatile. His hands clenched so tightly his nails nearly broke skin.
At that moment, Mason stepped forward, frowning. "You were the one who pulled him back earlier. I thought the two of you knew each other."
John, eyes reddening with tears, mustered all his courage. "I—I really don't know anything. You suddenly grabbed me before, and just now you were holding my hand..."
Seeing John's helpless expression, Cain curled his lips in disgust. "Before I opened my eyes, you were reaching toward me. What were you trying to do?"
John hadn't expected Cain to notice—much less expose him. His face flushed red as he stammered,
"I saw your hair..."
"Get out." Cain said flatly.
Then he looked at Mason. "I don't know him. Have someone send him back to his post. Pay him normally for the missing hours."
Mason nodded immediately. He turned to John and said softly, "Let's go."
John opened his mouth, then closed it—unable to say anything. All he could do was leave angrily.
Before stepping out, he still glanced back at Cain. His eyes glistened with unshed tears—but Cain was only rubbing his forehead irritably, not sparing him a single look.
A while later, the door opened again and Mason entered, asking gently:
"How are you feeling now?"
Cain shook his head and leaned back, not saying a word.
Mason continued slowly,
"The doctor said your condition is very strange. Your brain is perfectly normal—no blockages, no blood clots. Your body is as healthy as it can possibly be..."
Cain raised a hand, and Mason immediately fell silent.
He stared at Cain's expression—rare, almost unheard of: exhaustion, defeat, sorrow.
For the first time, Mason felt a genuine curiosity rising within him.
What exactly had happened during that missing period?
What kind of person had left such an imprint on Cain—so deep that even after forgetting everything, he still couldn't forget the shadow of that figure?