From Villain to Virtual Sweetheart: The Fake Heir's Grand Scheme(BL)-Chapter 643: Under a Sky Without Stars (part two)

Clyde stopped in the middle of the pavement.

People passed him, umbrellas brushing past his shoulder, shoes splashing lightly through shallow puddles. No one paid him any attention. He stood there, eyes unfocused.

If Darcy collapsed... If Darcy blamed Micah...

Micah would be destroyed.

Micah already carried so much guilt. He already blamed himself for changing Darcy’s fate. If Darcy broke down in front of him, accusing him, resenting him, Micah would never forgive himself.

That weight would crush him. The thought made Clyde’s chest ache as if something heavy were pressing down on his heart.

Sadness surged up first. Then anger. Then frustration. Then jealousy. All of it tangled together, suffocating him.

A fact danced in his head, mocking his excistance, his struggles, his love. Micah was destined to be with others, not him. A sentence written by the author, sealing Clyde’s ending.

That alone was cruel enough. But there was even a system, a plot, a host, all working together to ruin Micah and destroy their chance to be together again and again.

Clyde let out a long breath, harsh and uneven. White fog formed in front of his face and quickly vanished into the night.

It had all started the moment he stepped out of the staircase.

The memory was still vivid. The instant he saw Micah struggling with Noas, his mind had sensed something unnatural nearby. An intruding presence, cold and mechanical.

By instinct, he had reached out with his mental power and grabbed it.

Then the voice had sounded in his head.

"Alert... zzzz... The connection to host 8553 has been cut. Sending error data to the main system."

The sound had made his scalp tingle. For a brief second, he had squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to stay calm.

Then he rushed toward Micah as if nothing was wrong. He knew he could not act differently. If he exposed himself, everything would become more complicated.

But the constant buzzing and fragmented voices inside his mind had made his head throb. His face had gone pale, and his thoughts had nearly fallen apart.

He had hugged Micah tightly, desperately, as if holding onto him were the only thing keeping him sane. He had fought the system inside his own mind.

He did not even know how it had happened, only that the system had become trapped within him.

At first, he thought the worst was over. But it was not. The memories of his first life began to return piece by piece. Like broken glass cutting into his brain.

That was why, when he saw Silas, he had almost lost control.

Archie.

Leo.

Aidan.

Silas.

All four of them had been there. All four of them had been close to Micah. The sight had awakened something dark inside him.

Possessiveness.

Protectiveness.

Jealousy.

It was as if a beast had been released from a long sleep.

He had tightened his hold on Micah when he saw Silas touch Micah’s ankle with his bare hand. The urge to tear Silas’s hand away had nearly overwhelmed him. He had been crushed under the weight of his own emotions, but he had endured it.

From the auction venue to the hospital, and from the hospital to his apartment, he had been battling both the system and himself.

Those four men had been with Micah in his first life.

Why? Why had Micah chosen them over him back then? The thought stabbed him again and again. Was it all just the plot’s influence? What if Micah had really loved them? Then in the second life, what exactly had Micah felt when he saw his lovers ignore him under the influence of written words?

Clyde gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to kill them for touching Micah, for hurting Micah, for abandoning Micah when the plot demanded it.

How much pain must Micah have endured because of them?

The image of Micah suffering made his chest burn. Even so, Clyde had restrained himself. He had treated Micah carefully, gently, forcing his turbulent emotions down.

Before meeting Noas, he could not reveal anything. He needed to see whether the system would detach from him and return to its original host.

But it could not. That was when he finally felt certain and relieved. He had crushed it completely. There was no system anymore. Yet the price of that victory was heavy.

Silas had remembered. And soon, perhaps, the others would too.

The wind blew through the street, lifting Clyde’s blond hair and scattering it across his forehead. His tie was loose, his collar undone because he had felt suffocated. He was not wearing a jacket. He had given it to Micah earlier.

Only a long overcoat shielded him from the cold.

Dry leaves skittered across the pavement. Then, raindrops began to fall again. At first, they were light. Then heavier.

Clyde stopped walking. He lowered his head slightly, allowing the rain to soak into his hair and coat. Cold water slid down his temples and along his jaw. The chill seeped into his bones. But it did nothing to cool the storm in his mind.

In the end, Micah had chosen him. Not even Darcy. Despite all the guilt Micah carried. Despite all the suffering Darcy had endured. Micah had still chosen him.

That truth was the only thing holding Clyde together.

He repeated it silently. Micah loved him. Only him.

He had to believe that. He had to forget the past. Forget that all of Micah’s firsts had been taken by those four men. Forget that Micah had once lived a life without him. If he already wanted revenge because those men had caused Micah’s death in every lifetime, now his hatred had grown even deeper.

He wanted to crush them. To make them experience the same despair and pain. Yet he knew he could not step onto that path.

He had finally found happiness with Micah. How could he destroy it with his own hands?

Revenge might be sweet, but it would cost too much. Yeah. He should hold back, not let vengeance blind him and make him unable to feel the love Micah had for him.

If he lost Micah because of it, he would never forgive himself. Even imagining Micah leaving him made his chest tighten unbearably.

So he forced himself forward again. One step. Then another.

He walked through the fog and rain, his tall figure slowly disappearing into the blurred streetlights, carrying a heart that was heavy with love, fear, and determination.