Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]-Chapter 281: Tension and Tears

Would everything be fine without his father?

Rocco felt a little uneasy, but considering nobody seemed concerned about the man who had just collapsed in a pool of his own blood, it was probably fine... Right?

To reassure Sylas, Rocco flashed a bright smile and struck a confident pose.

"See? I’m totally fine! So everyone, no more fighting, okay?"

"...I see. But you might feel the exhaustion later. If anything happens, tell me immediately, understand?"

"Yes, yes! I got it!"

"Good. Now, let’s postpone the torture and execution of this perverted bastard and move on with the discussion."

"Yes, yes! ...Wait, huh?"

Was it just his imagination? ƒгeewёbnovel.com

Rocco could have sworn he had just heard a very disturbing statement slip out at the end there... No, no, it must have been his imagination.

Sylas’s expression was far too serene for someone supposedly about to commit murder.

Nearby, Laxus seemed distressed, calling out to Sylas with a frantic words, But Sylas completely ignored him, he just settling onto the sofa as if nothing had happened.

Wait... Maybe it wasn’t his imagination after all?

A bad feeling crept up Rocco’s spine, but being the cool and composed person he was, he simply pretended not to notice.

If a dismembered corpse turned up in a few days, he’d just silently clasp his hands together in prayer.

Yep, that sounded like a solid plan.

As Sylas held Rocco on his lap in a firm embrace, Makarov, who had been watching the situation unfold with an ever-present smile, finally spoke up.

"Oh? You’re surprisingly calm. I expected you to show at least as much rage as Marcus."

"Make no mistake—I’m far more furious than my father ever was. If Rocco weren’t here right now, your heads would have long since rolled."

"My, my... It seems I narrowly escaped death."

Makarov’s ever-present smile faltered—just slightly.

Even he seemed somewhat shaken by Sylas’s eerily calm, yet utterly murderous declaration.

Since it seemed Rocco was at the center of this mess, he took responsibility by trying to soothe Sylas’s temper.

He gently patting him on the head.

A small, expressionless but somehow pleased look crossed Sylas’s face.

Hmm.

What is an expressionless yet happy face, exactly?

"Come on, both of you, quit messing around and let’s get this discussion started. Uh, what was it again? Since the, uh, ’deed has been done,’ we’re supposed to be planning my and Rocco’s wedding, right?"

"...Did you hear a single word of this conversation? I will decapitate you."

Sylas’s forehead twitched, a vein bulging at Laxus’s absolutely unserious comment.

Why was Laxus always so naturally oblivious?

His talent for stepping on Sylas’s landmines was so profound that Rocco was starting to wonder if he was deliberately seeking out danger for the thrill of it.

In any case, Sylas wasn’t just his usual annoyed self—he was at the absolute breaking point of his fury.

If Laxus’s usual carefree attitude led him to unknowingly trigger Sylas now, there would be no turning back.

That meant it was up to Rocco—the only seemingly sane person in the room—to bring the conversation back on track.

Summoning his courage, Rocco carefully peeked out from Sylas’s embrace and raised his voice.

"Um! So, uh, what happened to Feilu and Ares?"

His hasty outburst, combined with his raised hand, made him look like an eager child in a classroom.

Three pairs of eyes immediately snapped toward him.

P-Pyeh?!

Being stared at so suddenly made Rocco’s nerves spike, and he began to fidget.

Sensing his distress, Sylas soothingly stroked his head gently.

Rocco glanced up to see that Sylas’s furious aura had completely dissipated and it was replaced by an expression of mild tranquility—like he had just been healed.

"The fools have all been captured and imprisoned. You have nothing to worry about. Naturally, we’ve also taken care of every last one of their remaining forces."

"Oh... I-I see..."

The phrasing made Rocco’s mind wander somewhere very grim, so he hurriedly cut the conversation short.

By "taken care of," Sylas definitely meant that, didn’t he?

The underlings must have all gone straight to heaven...

Wait—hold on.

If that was the case, then what about Feilu?

He wasn’t entirely a bad person, so... what happened to him?

Rocco trembled for a few seconds in quiet horror, but his concern for Feilu quickly outweighed his fear.

Without thinking, he clung tightly to Sylas once more.

"Brother, Feilu isn’t a bad person. Ares is, but Feilu isn’t. He was just being used by the bad guys..."

"Oh? You seem awfully protective of Feilu."

"...Huh?"

As Rocco desperately tried to explain, Laxus suddenly muttered those words.

There was something off about his tone—something slightly heavy, laced with a barely noticeable edge.

Rocco turned to look at him.

Laxus was smiling, but it was that kind of smile—the same artificial one that bore an uncanny resemblance to Makarov’s.

The same forced smile he had once promised never to show Rocco again.

"Now that I think about it, you were with Feilu when you escaped, weren’t you? And during the soirée, you drank the juice Feilu gave you without a second thought. You warmed up to him awfully fast, didn’t you? When it was me, you were wary of me for so long, but with Feilu, it only took a little conversation for you to open up—makes me kinda jealou—"

"Uu... Uuuh..."

"...Huh?"

Laxus’s rapid, rambling monologue was abruptly cut short.

His eyes widened as he stared at Rocco, who had suddenly started sniffling and clung tightly to Sylas.

"W-Why are you crying all of a sudden?!"

"Eh—w-wait! I’m not angry or anything...!"

"You’re saying Feilu isn’t bad, but then you suddenly start crying! It’s scaryyy!"

"W-Wait, wait! That’s not it, I swear...!"

Rocco liked Laxus.

But he hated that pasted-on smile.

It felt like a barrier, like a line being drawn between them—as if he were being pushed away.

That cold, artificial expression created a wall, and every time Rocco saw it, his body instinctively tensed up.