Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!-Chapter 322: Sense Of Familiarity

When the door slammed open, Riven nearly jumped out of his skin.

He turned so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. His mind immediately leapt to the worst possible scenario—Soren. Coming back early. Catching Leon here. Or worse, dragging him off in that cold-blooded, no-nonsense way of his.

But it wasn’t Soren. It was just some guy. Now that Riven thought about it, he never bothered to get to know anyone except the male leads. He should really make some friends.

His eyes landed on Riven, scanned him up and down, and then the tension visibly melted off his shoulders like snow under sunlight.

"Riven-" Thank god he was alive and well!

Riven blinked. "In the flesh. And you are?" Who was this man?

The man gave a short bow. "Master sent me. He asked me to check if you were home. He was... Worried."

"Worried?" Riven repeated. Soren? Worried? "Wait, what? Worried about me?"

But before he could interrogate the man further, Leon—still parked on the living room’s couch like he owned the place—spoke up.

"Oh, so you’re with him?" Leon asked, arms crossed, pouting like a kid who’d been told recess was cancelled. "Tell him I’m not leaving."

Riven turned to him. "We’re not even talking about you right now."

"Still relevant," Leon said with a shrug. "You were just trying to kick me out five minutes ago. Don’t think I didn’t notice."

"That’s because you’re out here trying to challenge the clan leader, Leon! What is wrong with you?"

Leon sniffed. "I’ve fought worse."

This goddamn lion!

"You were in a completely different clan. That’s not the same! You have no allies here. No backup. No... plan!"

Leon considered that for a moment, then said very confidently, "Nah, I’d win."

Riven stared at him. "That’s not—! You can’t just—!"

The conversation might have gone on longer—possibly spiralled into another debate on Leon’s "glorious destiny"—but Riven finally flopped onto a chair with a long sigh. "Alright. Look. I don’t have the energy for this today. Go stay with Xavier!"

"Actually, I don’t have the room." Xavier pointed out with a stoic face.

Riven wanted to cry, why! "What do you mean you don’t have the room? I know you have the room! I was there." At the very beginning, he got bathed by Xavier.

"I moved." Xavier answered as a matter of fact, "And I do not have the room at all."

Riven stared at him like he just ruined his life. Where could he place this hot potato? He knew that the servants or gaurds who saw this whole scene would snitch! The moment Soren got home, he would know that there was another man living in his home!

"Fine, you can... Live here temporarily..." Riven sighed.

Leon looked pleased after realising that Riven was not pushing him away and trying to get rid of him.

Riven had had enough. His head already hurt from all the chaos, and now this oversized chunk of hold was acting like they were on vacation. As soon as the servant left, confirming Riven was indeed alive and whole, Riven grabbed Leon’s wrist and started dragging him down the hallway.

"Hey, where are we going?" Leon asked, confused but still grinning.

"Somewhere far, and hopefully safe," Riven muttered under his breath.

Leon let himself get pushed, shuffled along like a kid being sent to detention. He didn’t even fight it, which annoyed Riven more. It felt like trying to move a statue that wanted to be moved, just to mess with you. That kind of smug compliance.

Riven shoved open the door to one of the guest rooms—a small one, not too fancy but decent enough—and pushed Leon inside. Leon blinked like he was just now realising what was happening.

"Wait... You’re locking me in?"

"Yes," Riven deadpanned, arms crossed.

"What, no royal guest treatment? No feast? No silken sheets and warm foot baths?"

Riven narrowed his eyes. "Do you want a kick in the back, too?"

Leon gasped like he’d been insulted on a spiritual level. Were they not hanging out? Why was he being thrown into prison?!

"But it’s... Very small!" He complained!

"What the hell do you expect? The master bedroom?!" Riven scowled.

Leon opened his mouth to reply with something, probably dumb and dramatic, but Riven cut him off immediately.

"No."

"I didn’t even say—"

"No."

"I was just gonna—"

"Still no."

Leon flopped onto the bed like a toddler throwing a silent tantrum. Arms stretched out, legs dangling off the side. "You’re so mean to me."

"Walk it off, you’re fine." Riven folded his arms.

Leon peeked up from the pillow. "You know, if you were nicer, I’d help you."

"Help me with what? Causing another mess?"

Leon pointed at him lazily. "With conquering. The whole thing. You want power, I’ve got experience."

"Didn’t you get kicked out of your kingdom?" Riven mocked.

"Okay, but I still have more experience, think about it, you gain power, you take over, and then, you let me live there... And..." Leon rolled his eyes, "Ronan and Soren could live there too..." He added softly.

Riven narrowed his eyes and then actually thought about it. You know what, not the worst idea. If he had power and land, he could have an actual harem and, like an Emperor, he would go to one every night.

Wait, no! Now is not the time to get distracted! He had things to do!

Before Leon could respond with more nonsense, Riven turned and jabbed a finger at him. "Now listen closely. Until I come back and personally tell you it’s okay to come out, you stay here. Don’t sneak out, don’t eavesdrop, and if you try to start anything, I will know and I will make you regret it."

Leon rolled on the bed, completely unfazed by Riven’s warning. He looked so cute when he was angry, Leon thought.

Leon held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I’ll be good."

Riven stared at him for a second longer, as if trying to decide if he should put a chair against the door or not. Finally, he sighed and shut the door behind him with a firm click.

From inside the room, Leon called out, "Do I get snacks?"

"You just ate!"

"Well, I’m still hungry!"

"..."

Riven glared at the door for a second before turning to leave without responding.

---

Soren stumbled out of the decaying house, his chest heaving with every breath he took. The wooden porch creaked under his weight, and for a second, he had to grab the railing to keep himself steady. His heart was pounding in his ears, and the edges of his vision still flickered with remnants of the hallucination—or vision, or whatever curse that had been.

He had been sure it was real. His paws had skidded on the gravel as he raced to the house, shifting mid-run, panting with dread.

But... It wasn’t real.

The house had been empty. Silent. Dusty. Not even the faintest scent of blood or struggle.

He ran a hand down his face, feeling the layer of sweat and grime coat his skin. It didn’t make sense. How could a vision feel so real? So visceral? It hadn’t been just images. It was him. A version of himself he didn’t want to recognise.

He took a shaky step back and looked at the old house once more. The place should’ve given him some closure, but it only left him more unsettled.

Soren turned and began to walk away, stumbling at first until his pace found rhythm, he did not run, he needed the long walk to calm down. As he reached the city borders, the soundscape changed—birds, the distant chatter of people, the usual bustling marketplace.

Everything seemed normal, the guards were on their daily patrol, there was no sense of urgency anywhere. That meant... There was no need for search parties, Riven was probably fine. The thought brought him some comfort.

But still there was some shame, some guilt left.

Not just because he had panicked over nothing, but because of the man in the vision. The cruel expression, the absence of empathy. That version of himself didn’t look foreign. It looked familiar.

Because once, not long ago, he was like that. Exactly like that. Cold and calculating, people and their emotions did not matter, only their usefulness.

He believed love was a weakness. He laughed at people who got too attached. He used charm and strategy to win allies, not kindness.

He did not grow up with love, and still sometimes, he still did not believe that it would last. The person who should have loved him... She abandoned him, no, he wished she had abandoned him. What she did was far worse.

She sold him for a few coins.

She personally delivered him to the doorstep of the devil.

The things he had to endure at an age where he barely understood what was happening or why? Why did this happen? He did everything she asked of him. So why? Was he not good enough, what could he have done to avoid that fate?