Neurolink System in the Modern World-Chapter 87 Vulnerability

"Tell me more about this guy. You seem to like him a lot," I asked, trying to keep the conversation going. "It's a little bit embarrassing," she started, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. This girl, who was typically direct and confident, now appeared a bit bashful, her eyes darting away as she spoke. "You don't have to share if you're not comfortable," I reassured her, even though secretly, I was dying to know about her thoughts regarding me. Sure, I've got this twisted system to charm the ladies, but I'm still dying to know what was going on in the head of the girl who somehow saw something special in my ugly, fat self .

She paused for a moment, looking down at her plate before meeting my eyes.

"You saved my life, so I suppose it's alright to share. It's not much of a hidden secret anyway," she replied with a small smile. "You don't have to force yourself," I said with an exaggerated shrug, feigning indifference. Deep down, though, my inner thoughts were screaming, "Come on, spill the juicy story!" "Don't worry, I'm not forcing myself. To be honest, I haven't shared this with anyone except my sister, but for some reason, I feel comfortable discussing it with you," she said with a warm smile, clearly not bothered to confide in me. "He's my sister's stepson. So, in a weird way, I'm like her... aunt," she admitted, her blush deepening as she said the word "aunt."

"He's a little kid?" I teased her.

"No, no," she replied, her own blush growing. "We're the same age."

"I'm just teasing you . So,what did you like about him ?"

"Well, he is always seemed so gloomy on the surface. But deep inside, I could see that he's really strong and kind hearted." Strong and kind hearted? Where did this girl get that idea? I pondered, attempting to picture my former self. I was a NEET, a bit of a pervert, spending 30% of my time watching Hentai, 20% reading Hentai, and 30% playing Hentai games. If I'm the definition of kind and strong, then I guess 99.99% of men are saints.

"When did you realize you had a soft spot for this guy?" "I don't know," she began, her tone thoughtful. "I just found myself thinking about him a lot. I wanted to be there for him, protect him in a way. But my sister warned me not to get too close to him because of his evil uncle," she continued, her voice filled with regret.

'My uncle again?' I rolled my eyes. These two sisters seemed to have a knack for conveniently blaming everything on him. "How about telling him how you feel ?" 'Just confess to me so we can live happily ever after and I can get my EXP,' I sighed inwardly. Why did she have to make things so hard? "It's complicated," she admitted with a sigh. "I had feelings for him, but now he has changed a lot," she explained, her voice carrying a sense of nostalgia and longing. "Did he become more ugly?" I asked, trying to gauge her opinion of me.

"No, he actually looks much better and healthier now," she answered.

"Then what's the problem? You like the fat version of him?" I questioned, puzzled by her hesitation.

"If you truly care for him, shouldn't his appearance be irrelevant?" I asked, my emotions starting to color the tone of my voice. "That's not it. His appearance is not the problem," she replied, her voice tinged with disappointment and a hint of sadness.

"Then, what's the problem ?" She paused for a moment, her thoughts clearly racing as she considered her next words. "The last time we met, for some reason, I felt like I was looking at a different person. I couldn't sense that kindness from before. Instead , I felt uncomfortable looking at him" she replied, her expression a mix of sadness and disappointment, as if I was the one at fault for changing!

"That's bullshit !"I spat out with a cold, firm tone. "Mr. Zyn?" Her expression revealed her surprise, clearly not expecting my response to be so sharp. But I couldn't hold back my emotions any longer. "So you liked him when he was depressed? Gloomy, and fat? But you never even tried to tell him that? To support him? To ask about his problems?" I pressed, my frustration evident in my words. "And now that you see him change, you have the audacity to say that you don't see that kindness anymore? Maybe he let go of that useless kindness because for once in his life, he wanted to be happy! Because no one supported him all this time!" I berated her, my frustration boiling over as I smacked the table. You dare to say that you like me, but you were never there to support me? You're just like your sister, always blaming my uncle for everything.

"It's not like that! I didn't mean it that way," she replied, her eyes widening in surprise, her shoulders tensing up defensively, and her fingers nervously scratching the table. "Then what the hell do you mean?" "I..." She faltered, struggling to find the right words.

After a moment of silence, she abruptly stood up from the table, tears streaming down her cheeks. It seemed like my words had unintentionally hurt her deeply, and I was left with a sense of regret for my outburst.

"I hope you're satisfied," she began, still tears welling up in her eyes. "I know I'm a bad person for failing to be there for him, but you didn't have to throw it in my face like this." She held her tears and walked away. Regret gnawed at me as I watched her walk away . 'Damn it,' I thought to myself, blaming my own actions. It was clear that my words had touched a nerve, and I wished I could take them back. 'Why did I do that? Why did my emotions suddenly burst out like that?' I asked myself, feeling utterly confused. I thought I had already become more mature and calculated, so why did I suddenly feel so vulnerable and ordinary in front of her?

The source of this c𝐨ntent is fre𝒆w(e)bn(o)vel