Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]
Chapter 77: The Brother’s Embrace

Chapter 77: The Brother’s Embrace

Marcus instinctively caught him, cradling the fragile boy in his arms as if shielding the most precious treasure.

"...Thank goodness... you’re safe..."

With no one else around to witness, Marcus allowed his composure to falter completely.

His body trembled with the aftershock of panic and relief.

Marcus ran his hand gently through the boy’s soft and silky hair.

He rested the boy’s head on his shoulder and the boy responded with a faint, blissful smile.

That smile was so innocent and so heartbreakingly endearing that it sent an unexpected pang through Marcus’s chest.

This was why he hesitated to involve himself too much with the boy.

Being near him often led to moments like this, where the child’s sweetness brought a sharp, almost unbearable ache to his heart.

Marcus had grown accustomed to pain over the years, yet he despised himself for letting it create distance.

That distance had delayed his response, leaving the boy vulnerable in a moment of danger.

The child was so delicate, so fragile, as if a single misstep could shatter him.

Leaving him unprotected in a dangerous world was unthinkable, and yet each moment of separation brought Marcus to this state—shaking and overwhelmed by the boy’s vulnerability.

"...Strasbourg."

He didn’t have to turn around to know that Strasbourg had already caught up.

When Marcus called out to his attendant, the man emerged from the bushes behind him, making a rustling sound.

Behind the glasses that usually masked his emotions, Strasbourg’s eyes betrayed a flicker of concern, though he quickly composed himself.

Marcus cast a glance at him and spoke in a low voice.

"Take Rocco to the main house. Prepare a room for him."

As he issued the command, he held the peacefully sleeping boy even closer, his protective grip tightening.

Strasbourg’s eyes widened momentarily at the order but quickly shifted to a knowing smile and gave him a nod.

"...That decision took you longer than usual, sir."

Strasbourg delivered the reply with his usual composed and calm attitude but couldn’t resist adding a pointed remark.

Marcus shot him a sharp glare, his gaze lingering on the retreating back of his attendant.

Once Strasbourg was out of sight, Marcus turned his attention back to the boy who was cradled in his arms.

"...Rocco, Rocco."

—My beloved son.

The whispered words slipped out, surprising even himself.

But deep down, Marcus knew he had already realized the truth.

He had always known it but had refused to acknowledge it until now.

He despised himself for harboring irrational resentment toward this innocent child.

Anger at his own failings surged within him, and he inadvertently held the boy even tighter.

Feeling the pressure, Rocco let out a small whimper.

"...Mmm, ugh... Pa...pa..."

Marcus froze.

His son is nuzzled against his neck, mumbling a name that he never thought he’d hear.

At that moment, an overwhelming wave of love and gratitude filled him, so powerful it nearly brought him to his knees.

He pressed a tender kiss to the crown of the boy’s small, delicate head and whispered softly.

"...I will protect you. Always. My Rocco."

...

"—Mmm... I can’t climb anymore... huh!"

It all began with climbing a small tree, leading to the triumphant conquest of Mount Everest—or so it seemed—until Rocco suddenly woke up.

"Mmm, so it was all a dream... How disappointing."

He rubbed away the drool trailing from the corner of his mouth and slowly sat up.

As he made to climb out of the soft, luxurious bed, he paused, blinking his eyes in confusion.

Something felt off.

His room seemed... larger than usual.

Not just that—the furniture looked far more extravagant.

Although the overall style was familiar, even Rocco, with his modest sensibilities, could tell these were expensive pieces, the kind that might make a person’s wallet tremble in fear.

Even the stuffed animals, his only companions since he was a baby, seemed to have multiplied.

"Is this some kind of paranormal activity or something?" he murmured while teary-eyed at the thought.

Just as he was on the verge of panic, the door suddenly opened with a soft click.

"Eep! Ahhh!"

A ghost? A zombie? Or maybe an alien?!

Rocco didn’t know what was coming but was sure it was something unknown—something that had come to devour him.

Panicking, he dove back into the bed and bundled himself in the blanket, turning into a trembling little burrito.

A few minutes passed by as he shivered like a frightened bundle of natto.

Inside his self-made cocoon, he shut his eyes tightly, ensuring complete darkness in his view.

When he suddenly felt a hand gently pat his head through the blanket, his heart sank.

This was it.

He was done for.

The alien—or whatever it was—was about to gobble him up.

Unable to hold it in any longer, tears trickled down his cheeks.

"...Rocco."

A low voice called his name.

As tears streamed down from his cheeks and his body trembled, a low voice suddenly reached Rocco’s ears.

Normally, that voice carried a cold, almost menacing tone, but this time, it sounded unexpectedly gentle.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but Rocco thought he could even sense a hint of affection in it.

"Sniff... Brother?"

While sniffling and hiccupping, Rocco cautiously peeked out his head from under the blanket, trusting the familiar voice he had imagined.

The person standing there, looking down at Rocco’s tear-streaked face as it emerged from the cocoon, seemed to soften his usually stoic expression ever so slightly into a faint smile—or at least, that’s how it seemed to Rocco.

Maybe it was just his imagination.

"...I know you very well, I bet you thought it was a ghost," the voice teased softly, amethyst eyes narrowing in amusement.

"Wha—!"

The owner of the voice was none other than Sylas, Rocco’s older brother, whose trademark was his quiet demeanor and expressionless face.

Sylas’s words, laced with a rare, mischievous tone, made Rocco instinctively lean forward to protest.

In that instant, Sylas’s eyes gleamed briefly with a playful light before he moved swiftly, pulling Rocco into a firm embrace.

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