TYMIMA CHAPTER 159

The lights in the conference hall finally dimmed, signaling the end of negotiations.

 

Everyone dragged their exhausted bodies back to their rooms to eat, wash, and sleep, trying to recover their energy.

 

Lucas, still in prison uniform with blackened hands, was indignantly carried back to the guest room by Adrian.

 

Adrian threw him directly into the bathtub: “Get clean.”

 

Then he turned and shut the bathroom door tightly.

 

The moment the door closed, he suddenly frowned and dropped to one knee on the carpet.

 

Soul damage was a pain that pierced directly into the nerves—impossible to resolve and agonizing to endure.

 

Ever since he’d been killed by Asmodeus in Doctor Bai’s body, every part of him had been in tearing pain. Though he had no wounds, it felt like injuries covered his entire body.

 

The fourth-tier defense mechanism could only make his combat power surge in dark form—it couldn’t reduce the pain.

 

It was fine during desperate fighting when his adrenaline was at its peak and he had no time to focus on his soul’s suffering, but now that his mind relaxed, all the aftereffects came flooding back.

 

The veins in Adrian’s forearms bulged, blood surging beneath his skin. His joints creaked as he clenched them, his gray-blue eyes growing as dark as the night, sinister killing intent swirling around him.

 

He wanted to vent, to destroy, to commit evil.

 

He’d already skinned and flayed Asmodeus, but in just an hour, that satisfaction had already faded.

 

He needed greater stimulation, more bloodshed to fill the emptiness and darkness in his heart.

 

The Federation government wanted to investigate him?

 

It seemed he hadn’t settled accounts with them yet.

 

The people who extracted Lucas’s pheromones, who beat and scolded Lucas, who escorted Lucas, who caused Lucas to be betrayed.

 

He would remove every bone from their bodies, string them together, and hang them on the flagpole in the center of the restricted zone. As for their boneless skin, he’d spread it on the main street of the capital.

 

Adrian slowly raised his eyes and stood up.

 

“Hey, Adrian, how am I supposed to wash? The controls are on the other side!”

 

Lucas’s restless voice came clearly from the bathroom.

 

Adrian’s train of thought was interrupted as he glanced behind him.

 

“I can’t move at all anymore, can’t even lift my arms, and I haven’t even taken off my prison uniform yet.”

 

“You seemed pretty energetic just now,” Adrian had to turn back around.

 

“That was a final burst of energy. I can’t do it now, don’t want to wash anymore, I’m about to fall asleep.” Lucas had a stubborn and difficult personality. As he calmed down from the wild joy of surviving disaster, thinking about his experiences these past days made him feel utterly miserable and unlucky. His heart ached and he desperately needed comfort and care from others.

 

But of course he wouldn’t directly state his needs—he was just stubborn and wanted people to satisfy him.

 

Whether it was the light side or dark side made no difference to him, because he knew his brother would feel sorry for him.

 

“Did you hear me or not? If not, I’ll call for special services and have someone else help me bathe.”

 

Phobos Bay was the most open and passionate place in the world. Being jointly developed by three countries, no single nation’s laws applied here, and the sex industry flourished.

 

Right outside this hotel, there were quite a few Alphas and Omegas providing special services. Once you negotiated the price, anything was possible.

 

Special. Services.

 

These four words pierced into his brain, demanding attention like pain itself. Adrian raised an eyebrow, strode back to the bathroom, lifted Lucas who was lounging in the bathtub, and yanked him in front of himself.

 

“Say again what you want to call for?”

 

“…” Lucas bumped into his abs, his ribs aching a bit. He pushed at Adrian with his hands but couldn’t budge him, so he could only put on a fierce act: “Can’t I be too tired to bathe?”

 

“Fine.” Adrian suddenly lifted Lucas’s arms, then grabbed the seam of his prison uniform and with a “rip” tore apart the crude, blood-stained garment, casually throwing it to the floor.

 

Lucas’s skin felt the cool air and he shrank back a bit. He was somewhat embarrassed—after all, being completely naked in front of his brother—but Adrian was holding him down so he couldn’t even crouch.

 

“Damn you… be gentle!”

 

He scratched at Adrian’s hand with his blackened fingers, but his nails were too short, making it more like tickling.

 

Adrian bent down to pick up the showerhead, adjusted the direction slightly, and aimed the nozzle at Lucas’s nape.

 

“Starting now.” The warm water sprayed on his aching gland, making Lucas’s back muscles tense up.

 

The water flowed down from his nape, streaming down his back to his feet.

 

The blood and grime on his body was quickly washed away by the water, his back skin returning to its usual fair smoothness.

 

Only his gland had been flushed red by the water, and his eyes were red too.

 

He said indignantly: “You didn’t used to bathe me like this!”

 

Adrian controlled the shower, his thumb resting on the mode adjustment dial. Just one flick down would activate the strongest water jet.

 

If his gland were hit by that kind of water pressure, his legs would probably give out immediately.

 

“Lucas, actually I didn’t kill enough people today to satisfy myself. This side of me is more boundaryless and unprincipled than you imagine. Do you want to experience it?”

 

Lucas gulped hard.

 

His backbone was like a spring—when Adrian was weak, he was strong; when Adrian was strong, he backed down.

 

“No… don’t want to. Just wash me like this.” Lucas blinked and even pretended to scrub his leg with his hand.

 

Damn it.

 

When would the light side recover?

 

If it were the light side, he wouldn’t mind even if Lucas kicked water in his face.

 

Adrian’s thumb slowly moved away from the dial, and the showerhead moved from his nape to his chest: “Do it yourself, clean every spot.”

 

With that, Adrian stepped back, his shoe sole stepping in a puddle of water.

 

Lucas had no choice but to use the water flowing down from his collarbone to wipe every part of his chest.

 

“How is this different from me showering myself?” Lucas secretly pouted, obviously not very satisfied with Adrian’s cutting corners.

 

But what else could he expect?

 

Actually, he didn’t know either.

 

His demands of Adrian never had correct answers—he seemed to just want Adrian’s reaction.

 

“You want me to wash you with my hands.” Adrian suddenly spoke.

 

This wasn’t an inquiring tone but certainty. Those eyes that used to be oblivious to romance seemed to see through everything, piercing Lucas’s true needs.

 

Lucas’s face visibly reddened as he fiercely retorted: “Who said that!”

 

He was just… curious, and nostalgic.

 

Actually, Adrian often helped him bathe when they were little.

 

Howard and his mother both came from prominent families, naturally never lifting a finger for menial tasks, so they left him to the family nanny’s care.

 

When he couldn’t walk yet and Adrian was only nine, the nanny once put him in the bathtub and forgot about him. By the time Adrian came home from school, he’d nearly died young.

 

After that, bathing him became Adrian’s job, and if Adrian didn’t personally wash him, he’d get angry and cry.

 

That feeling—he’d almost forgotten it.

 

Adrian’s gaze wandered over Lucas’s face, successfully seeing the embarrassed flush spread wider. Then he looked down at Lucas’s chest, rising and falling with excitement.

 

Seems he was quite looking forward to it.

 

So Adrian threw the showerhead into the bathtub, then raised his hand, rolled up his sleeves, and removed his mechanical watch.

 

The splashing water had already soaked his suit and shirt completely, the cuffs stuck to his forearms and wouldn’t come off easily.

 

He squeezed a drop of body wash into his palm, used his body heat to melt the lotion, and reached toward Lucas’s shoulder blades.

 

His palm quickly spread the body wash over the entire back, finally stopping at the top of his tailbone.

 

Adrian asked: “Are there any spots I missed?”

 

“Yes.” Lucas’s ears twitched—they normally didn’t move, but today his nerves were probably too tense and strained.

 

Adrian seemed to smile, tapping his finger on the small of his back: “Guide my hand there.”

 

Lucas thought about the spots that hadn’t been covered, then immediately turned his burning face away: “Never mind, never mind, I’ll do it myself!”

 

He decided to give up halfway and immediately tried to slip to the other side of the bathtub.

 

Adrian easily pulled him back, squeezing more body wash into his palm.

 

“Since you want me to do it, you can’t do it yourself anymore.”

 

So Adrian washed Lucas the way he used to when they were little, covering him with body wash and not missing even the spaces between his toes.

 

Lucas turned completely into a cooked shrimp. Finally, he hooked his arms around Adrian’s neck, climbed up Adrian’s chest like a koala, then used his legs to hang onto Adrian’s body.

 

“So hard,” Lucas mumbled unclearly.

 

The suit buttons and collar pin pressed against his skin, and the fabric was uncomfortable too.

 

But it was bearable.

 

Adrian’s chest seemed to have a soft, warm piece of putty stuck to it: “Lucas, who told you to come onto your brother completely naked?”

 

Lucas closed his eyes: “My stomach hurts, I can’t walk, and I don’t have shoes either.”

 

He had plenty of excuses.

 

Adrian stroked his head and back with damp fingertips, then covered him with a dry towel and walked toward the bedroom.

 

Lucas enjoyed it while still finding fault: “Your suit is wet and hard, not comfortable at all.”

 

“Your skin is just too tender.”

 

Lucas stole a glance at Adrian.

 

This answer was quite satisfying to an Omega’s vanity.

 

Reaching the bedroom, Lucas was placed on the bed. Just as he was about to roll into the covers, Adrian pressed his waist.

 

“Wait, medicine first.”

 

In the elevator, Fata had secretly given him a tube of ointment and texted him to apply it wherever there were injuries—it would definitely heal faster.

 

[Fata: This is my newly upgraded bruise healing cream. It’s a bit intense, but recovery is great with no scarring.]

 

Lucas looked down at his abdomen that had been violently jabbed with the baton. It was already purple with bruising, quite frightening.

 

But this spot was a bit too close to sensitive areas—being looked at by Adrian felt awkward.

 

So he quickly pulled down the towel, covering the area above his thighs.

 

Adrian glanced at him, reached out to unscrew the cap, and used his slender index finger to scoop out some transparent gel.

 

Fata had obviously improved the scent—this time there was no shit smell, but rather a faint grass fragrance.

 

“I just covered your whole body, what are you shy about now?”

 

As he spoke, the cool medicinal cream was applied to his smooth, warm abdomen, quickly melting and seeping into the skin.

 

Lucas felt the coolness and instinctively arched his back.

 

Adrian’s finger stopped.

 

Lucas became even more embarrassed, his neck and ears turning red. This was a reflex—he’d always been ticklish on his stomach.

 

“Where did you get this ointment?” Lucas tried to change the subject.

 

“Fata gave it to me.” Adrian’s finger began rubbing the bruised area again.

 

“Oh, Fata…¹WHAT IS HAPPENING HEREEEE!!!!”

Lucas instantly realized something, forgetting his exhaustion as he sat up: “Fata?!”

 

Quick as lightning, the ointment took immediate effect. Wave after wave of intense burning pain spread from the injured area.

 

Lucas groaned and clutched his abdomen, his thighs trembling from the pain. He bit down on the bedsheet, tears streaming as he said angrily: “He’s using me to test new medicine again! Ahhhhh I’m going to fight him!”

 

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 (advanced chapters available on kofi)

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  WHAT IS HAPPENING HEREEEE!!!!