Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]-Chapter 136: Overthinking Fever

Everyone seemed to be nodding in agreement with Makarov’s opinion, so Rocco felt the pressure to contribute to the discussion.

He concentrated hard, determined to come up with a clever deduction of his own.

However, since he wasn’t used to intense mental exertion, his brain, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of thought, seemed to overheat and sputter out like a machine pushed beyond its limits.

"Ah, w-whoa...!"

"Father! Rocco seems unwell!"

Rocco slumped back against the chair, his flushed cheeks giving him a dazed appearance.

Sylas who is sitting beside him, quickly reached out to steady him, pulling him into a firm embrace.

His brother’s voice carried a note of urgency as he addressed their father.

As Sylas held him tightly, Rocco’s gaze darted around the room in panic.

This was bad.

The members of the Del Fiore family were staring at him in shock, their eyes wide with surprise.

It made sense—they were in the middle of an important meeting, and here he was, practically fainting from what was essentially a brain overheat.

I have to pull myself together...! Rocco thought, willing himself to recover and cool down.

However, before he could manage it, his father’s calm and composed voice cut through the tension, causing Rocco to relax and stop struggling.

Although his senses were dulled, Rocco finally registered the cool hand pressed against his forehead.

That must be his father’s hand, he realized belatedly.

"...He has a slight fever," his father remarked, his tone calm and assessing.

"Marcus? Is Rocco all right? Shouldn’t he rest?" came a concerned voice—likely Makarov’s.

"Yes, I’ll see to it. Take Rocco to a separate room. Georgio, you stay here," Marcus instructed in his usual commanding tone.

Makarov’s concern caught Rocco off guard.

He hadn’t expected someone like him to worry about his condition.

Then again, it’s probably just an act, Rocco thought fleetingly.

Overthinking it would only make his fever worse, so he decided to shut his thoughts down entirely.

Rocco was gently pulled from Sylas’s arms and firmly carried by a pair of muscular ones.

Someone had taken him from Sylas, but with his vision blurred by dizziness and his ears unable to clearly make out voices, Rocco couldn’t discern who now held him.

"I want to stay with my master, too! There’s no point in me staying here if he’s not around!"

"Very well, then leave. If you want Rocco to remember you as the useless lackey who abandoned him in his time of need, feel free."

"...Fine, I’ll stay."

Rocco vaguely registered the exchange between Georgio and his father, though the words themselves were muffled and unclear.

It seemed the fever was truly taking hold.

Judging by everyone’s reactions, they probably assumed he was some frail, sickly person who collapsed at the slightest provocation.

In reality, it was just a bout of overthinking-induced stress, a "wisdom fever."

Still, the idea of explaining that it was caused by something so silly felt too embarrassing, so Rocco decided to roll with the assumption of frailty.

"...Mahmoud, mind your manners with Rocco," his father said.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," came Mahmoud’s gruff reply. "Even I’m not twisted enough to mess with a sick kid."

Hearing Mahmoud’s voice so close made Rocco snap to attention.

Judging by the proximity of his voice and the tone of the conversation, it seemed like Ragar was the one carrying him, while Mahmoud stood nearby.

As he pieced this together, Rocco noticed Ragar start to walk briskly.

His pace was hurried as he headed toward the large hall’s doors.

Just before stepping into the hallway, Rocco caught faint voices behind him.

The words seemed strange, almost nonsensical, as if the speakers were wildly misinterpreting the situation.

However, maybe it was just the fever making him imagine things.

With a quiet hum of agreement to himself, Rocco nestled his face into Ragar’s broad chest, letting the warmth lull him. fгeewebnovёl.com

"...I’d heard Rocco was frail, but I didn’t realize it was this bad."

"I told you, my Rocco is a delicate and angelic soul. Even a small change in his environment can take a toll on his health."

"Poor thing... I have to protect him at all costs!"

"You are not needed. Stay away from my brother, you mangy dog. I’ll be the one to protect him."

A strange ceiling...

That was the first thought that crossed Rocco’s mind as his consciousness returned.

The ceiling wasn’t one he recognized from his room in the main house or even the annex.

Upon waking up, he was genuinely startled.

However, the moment Ragar’s face filled his blurry vision, any confusion or anxiety vanished like dust in the wind.

"You g Master! How are you feeling?!"

Ragar’s lion ears twitching rapidly in agitation, he cupped Rocco’s cheeks with both hands as he frantically inquired.

Rocco responded with a soft, relaxed smile and an easy "I’m fine," which immediately melted the tension in Ragar’s face, leaving it suffused with relief.

It seemed Rocco had caused quite a bit of worry.

All this over a simple wisdom fever... they’re overreacting, he thought.

Slowly, Rocco sat up and, without hesitation, wrapped his arms around Ragar in a snug hug, taking the opportunity to absorb some comfort from him.

Tempted by Ragar’s fluffy ears, Rocco’s mouth instinctively opened, ready for a playful nibble—only to snap shut as he remembered the discomfort he’d felt when Laxus had licked him excessively.

No! I can’t let myself nibble his ears again. That’s a line I’ve decided not to cross anymore!

Suppressing the urge, Rocco firmly closed his mouth and let out a small sigh.

"...Young Master? Are you sure you don’t want to nibble my ears?" Ragar asked, tilting his head in confusion.

"Mm. I’ve decided not to nibble anymore," Rocco replied with a pout of determination.

To his surprise, Ragar’s expression shifted dramatically, his face turned pale as if he’d been struck by some terrible news.

Rocco blinked his eyes in confusion, wondering why Ragar wasn’t overjoyed and celebrating the decision.