Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]-Chapter 208: Can I truly… become yours?

Just as he tried to decipher the choked words, his master suddenly lifted his face with a dramatic gasp—then broke into full-blown wailing.

Tears streamed down his already scrunched-up face, a messy mix of sobs, hiccups, and runny nose completing the pitiful sight.

His tiny mouth opened wide as he let out an exaggerated, dramatic wail—"Bwaaahhh!!"

Every part of it—his swollen eyes, the snot trailing down, even his signature loud crying—was so adorable.

However, Ragar had no idea how to even begin handling this.

For now, he focused on soothing him, gently stroking his soft, round cheeks in slow, rhythmic motions.

Then, with practiced ease, he wiped away the trail of tears and cleaned up his dripping nose.

Only after his master’s face was no longer a teary, messy disaster did Ragar allow himself to breathe out a small sigh of relief.

There were still stray tears glistening at the edges of those amethyst eyes, but compared to the dramatic meltdown from earlier, he had calmed down significantly.

For several minutes, Rocco continued rubbing his master’s back and patiently waiting for him to calm down completely.

Finally, with one last adorable sniffle, his master lifted his tear-streaked, flushed face and began to speak.

"Sniff... Ugh... Uh, um... Ragar, there’s... something I have to tell you."

"Something... you must tell me?" Rocco asked. "What is it?"

Ah, if only he still had both arms... With only one, he couldn’t embrace his master as tightly as he wished.

It felt incomplete, unsatisfying.

But there was nothing to be done.

With the strength that remained, Ragar pulled his master closer to him and waited for him to continue.

His master furrowed his brows, his teary amethyst eyes looking up at Rocco’s neck with an anxious, hesitant gaze.

"Um... First, I... I need to say... I’m sorry."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah... I’m sorry, Ragar... It’s my fault. I got you caught up in all this... and because of me... your arm... your arm is gone..."

His voice wavered, fresh tears welling up as he choked out his confession.

Ragar had to fight the urge to smile.

He had to.

His master was speaking so seriously—he couldn’t afford to ruin the moment with a careless, foolish grin.

But the knowledge that his missing arm was, in fact, because of his master filled him with a deep, undeniable joy.

Everything about him—his body, his life—belonged to his master.

If he were to lose a part of himself, then it had to be by his master’s will.

If not, then it wouldn’t truly be his master’s possession, would it?

Relief settled over him.

Good.

I’m glad.

If something were to happen to me, it should always be because of him.

"There is no reason for you to bow your head, Master," Rocco replied evenly. "I am your ’possession.’ No matter what happens to my body, I have no complaints."

At those words, his master sucked in a sharp breath, his face twisting with sorrow.

Rocco immediately realized his mistake.

That wasn’t the answer his master had wanted.

He hurriedly tried to correct himself—but before he could, his master suddenly moved.

His soft and weak fists pounded against Ragar’s chest.

Instinctively, Ragar caught those tiny hands in his own and careful not to let him hurt himself.

The moment he did, his master’s tears fell even harder, streaming down his cheeks like a waterfall.

No matter what he did, it seemed he only made his master more upset.

As he stood there, at a complete loss, he suddenly heard his master whisper.

"...Idiot."

"...? Master, what did you just—"

"Idiot! Idiot, idiot!! Ragar, you’re such an idiot!!!"

At the sudden outburst, Rocco instinctively held his breath.

His master who is still crying with large heavy tears, continued pounding against him, shouting with all his might.

"You’re not a thing! You’re family, you idiot! Stop calling yourself a thing, you absolute fool!!"

The words struck Ragar like a bolt of lightning.

That’s right—his master saw him as family.

Calling himself an object in front of his master had been a grave mistake.

Even if, deep down, that was his truest desire, he should have never voiced it.

Regretfully, Rocco shut his mouth, offering no further argument.

Gradually, his master’s sobs began to subside.

Then, in a quiet, trembling voice, he mumbled something.

"...But still... but still..."

The words were so faint, Ragar immediately leaned in, straining to hear.

He tilted his head slightly, positioning his ear closer to his master’s lips.

And then—

"I’m the biggest idiot of all..."

Rocco’s eyes widened in shock.

His master—an idiot?

That couldn’t be.

That should never be.

His master was always pure, always righteous.

No—his master was righteousness itself.

He was absolute, unwavering, unquestionable.

As Ragar reeled from the statement, his master continued, his next words utterly earth-shattering.

"Even though I know it’s wrong... I still... I still want to put a collar on you, Ragar... I even thought about branding you, making it permanent... Ugh, I—"

"...!"

"You’re my family... I shouldn’t want to do things like that... but I do..."

His master’s sobs renewed, his tiny face nearly lost beneath the flood of his own tears.

But that was fine.

It was perfect.

Because as long as those tears clouded his master’s vision—he wouldn’t see the expression twisting Rocco’s face.

A grotesque, uncontrollable grin of pure, unfiltered ecstasy.

"──Can I truly... become yours?"

His voice trembled with an emotion so raw it bordered on insanity.

..

Rocco felt like the worst kind of master.

His words contradicted everything he had said before, and he was fully aware of how cruel he was being.

And yet, despite that—despite betraying everything he had stood for and making himself the villain—he still wanted to protect Ragar.

He wanted Ragar to be free.

To enjoy the fundamental rights that every human deserved, to never be subjected to such cruel restraints again.

That was why he could never accept the fact that Ragar was still bound by his former, wretched master.