Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]
Chapter 55: Rocco’s Chaotic Morning

Chapter 55: Rocco’s Chaotic Morning

"H-Hey, Master! What’s wrong?" Georgio asked, his voice tinged with alarm. "You can’t show a face like that! It’ll just make those kinds of people want to mess with you even more!"

Tears and snot streamed down Rocco’s face as he sobbed uncontrollably, his cheeks flushed as red as an apple.

He bawled and sniffled, lamenting his doomed fate.

Seeing this, Georgio’s expression inexplicably shifted to one of excitement.

Without warning, he pulled Rocco onto his lap and held him tightly, cradling him in a firm embrace.

It was suffocating but oddly comforting.

This feeling—the warmth, the soothing hold—stirred a realization in Rocco’s mind.

"Georgio... your embrace was so warm... like a mother?" he blurted, sniffling.

This was basically motherly behavior, wasn’t it?

Hugging someone so tightly while they cried?

Georgio... Georgio mama?

As Rocco melted into the embrace, Georgio’s face turned an even deeper shade of red, his expression twisting with what could only be described as... excitement.

"Oh, Master," Georgio purred. "So you’re into this kind of play too? Sure, sure! Honestly, I’d prefer it if you played the mom roles, but just this once, I’ll oblige~."

"What?!" Rocco’s face contorted with disbelief as Georgio rambled on about "play" and "mom roles."

"I just said your hug felt like a mom’s! I’m not interested in your weird perverted games," Rocco snapped, turning his head away and wriggling out of Georgio’s arms.

As Rocco freed himself, Georgio whined dramatically, "Already ignoring me? Master, you’re such a tease! You’re the ultimate sadist!"

Rocco ignored the nonsense entirely and hopped off the bed, brushing himself off.

"Where’s Ragar? Let’s go find Ragar," Rocco muttered, suddenly remembering the comfort of his beloved companion.

"Now you’re into beast play?! Oh, Master, you’re so naughty!" Georgio called after him, his words as baffling as ever.

Rocco left the room, entirely dismissing Georgio’s ridiculous commentary, and set off on a mission.

He missed his quiet "snack time" with Ragar and was determined to find him.

Wandering down the hall with purpose, Rocco embarked on his quest to reunite with his loyal bodyguard.

After Rocco trotted out of the room, he unconsciously followed his usual route toward the garden and eventually finding himself at the grand entrance hall.

The idea of searching for Ragar had completely slipped his mind as he happily strolled along, lost in his thoughts.

It wasn’t until he spotted Ragar standing in front of the massive front doors that the purpose of his mission snapped back into place.

Rocco’s eyes lit up as he hurried toward him.

"Ragar! I’ve been looking for you!" he exclaimed.

Of course, he wasn’t about to admit that he’d forgotten all about it until just now.

Stretching his arms wide, Rocco throw himself at Ragar, who easily caught him and lifted him as if he weighed nothing.

This—this solid and dependable embrace—was precisely what he’d been craving.

"Young Master...! You’re awake! Thank goodness," Ragar said, relief flooding his face. "But are you sure it’s alright for you to be up and about?"

"No problem at all! I’m feeling great," Rocco replied with a grin. "When I woke up and you weren’t there, I decided to come find you."

"You were looking for me...? I deeply apologize, Young Master. It’s inexcusable that I wasn’t there when you woke," Ragar said, his ears drooping slightly in shame.

"Don’t worry about it," Rocco said, reaching up to pat and rub Ragar’s soft beast-like ears.

He buried his face in Ragar’s chest, basking in the warmth and strength of his sturdy build.

But as he enjoyed the moment, a thought struck him.

Why was Ragar standing by the entrance?

Lifting his head, Rocco’s expression grew curious.

Ragar seemed to understand the unspoken question and glanced back at the door before responding.

"I just saw Young Master Sylas off moments ago," Ragar explained.

"What!?" Rocco’s eyes widened. "Is my brother still nearby?"

Looking slightly surprised at Rocco’s reaction, Ragar blinked and nodded. "Yes, I believe he hasn’t passed through the gates yet."

Rocco gasped, then quickly wiggled out of Ragar’s hold and landed lightly on the ground.

"Stay here, Ragar! I’m going to greet my brother!" he declared while turning around toward the door.

With a burst of energy, Rocco flung the heavy doors open.

In the distance, near the estate’s gates, a group of figures stood.

Among them, Rocco spotted the unmistakable sight of shimmering silver hair.

It was Sylas.

There was no doubt about it!

Ragar was shouting something along the lines of "You shouldn’t be running right after recovering!" but Rocco ignored him, charging forward recklessly.

His body, still sluggish from waking up, felt strangely heavy, and a slight dizziness lingered.

However, there was no time to worry about that.

Sylas was right there, just ahead.

Rocco had to make up for the disasters during the birthday party.

"Wait! Please wait, Brother!" he yelled, his voice echoing toward Sylas’s retreating back, just as he was about to cross through the gates.

Panting and squinting through his blurred vision, Rocco saw Sylas pause and turn his head slightly.

Relief washed over him—Sylas had heard him.

However, in that brief moment of distraction, Rocco’s foot caught on a small stone he hadn’t noticed.

"Ah—!"

With a comical yelp, Rocco went sprawling face-first onto the ground, sliding forward in a spectacularly undignified fall, like something straight out of a cartoon.

"Rocco...!"

A moment of silence passed as Rocco lay spread-eagled on the ground.

In the distance, he thought he heard a voice call his name, tinged with urgency.

But no, that had to be his imagination.

Sylas would never call him like that, not with concern.

He could hear hurried footsteps approaching, but Rocco was too overwhelmed by humiliation and despair to lift his head.

His face burned bright red, and tears welled in his eyes as he tried to stifle a sob.

The shame was almost unbearable.

This wasn’t how a mafia descendants should act—nothing about this was cool!

In his mind, he was already holding a tearful conference with himself to reflect on his failures.

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