Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]-Chapter 85: Coolness Crisis

"Rocco is not yours," Sylas growled in a low, menacing tone. "There’s no way I would leave him with beasts like you."

Rather, it’s you who should leave, Sylas’s icy glare seemed to say.

His voice was so low and threatening that Rocco instinctively shrank back and furrowed his brows in concern.

For all their earlier bickering, it was clear Sylas and Georgio hadn’t come to any sort of truce.

The venom in their glares was real, laced with genuine hostility.

Feeling the tension rise to a dangerous level, as though a fight might break out any moment, Rocco decided he couldn’t let this go on any further.

Although his body trembling slightly, he reached out to tug at the hem of Sylas’s sleeve.

"Um, big brother? Big brother? May I have a moment of your time?"

The moment Rocco spoke softly, Sylas’s head snapped downward at an alarming speed, his piercing gaze locking onto him.

The movement was so fast, so unnerving, that Rocco felt his heart leap in fear.

"...What is it?" Sylas asked in a low, icy tone.

"Ah... um... well... Georgio and Ragar... they’re my retainers," Rocco stammered, glancing nervously at Sylas.

"And?" Sylas’s expression didn’t waver, his tone growing colder.

"Well... um... that’s why..." Rocco swallowed his saliva hard and tried to muster his courage. "I was thinking... maybe we could all live together?" He gave a sheepish, hesitant smile.

Sylas’s already stern face twisted into an expression of intense displeasure, causing Rocco to instinctively shrink back.

His eyes welled up with tears.

Oh no, he’s really mad.

Like, "scary-level" mad.

Rocco’s heart raced as he braced himself for Sylas’s response.

"...You fool, Rocco. Just how many times do you need to be brainwashed before you realize it?" Sylas’s voice was sharp, cutting through Rocco’s fragile composure.

Wait—did he just call me a fool?

No way, Rocco thought, his lip trembling.

I’m not hearing that right, am I?

Sylas, of all people, just called me a fool?

His lower lip quivered as he buried his face into Mr. Bunny he held tightly against his chest.

Being called a fool was the ultimate taboo for Rocco, who prided himself on being "ultra-cool."

The word felt like a slap in the face, shattering his fragile self-image.

I’m supposed to be the super-cool, enigmatic second son here!

How can Sylas not see that?

Although sniffles and muffled sobs, Rocco pulled his face away from Mr. Bunny just enough to declare, "For your information, big brother, I’m very cool and smart. There’s no way I could ever be brainwashed!"

As he wiped away his tears with determination, Rocco puffed out his cheeks in indignation.

He held Mr. Bunny tightly in his arms, and seemed to share in his frustration, its stitched expression somehow mirroring Rocco’s pouty defiance.

Clutching Mr. Bunny tightly in his arms, Rocco forced himself to maintain a brave expression.

However, Sylas suddenly looked even more perplexed than Rocco, tilting his head slightly with an air of genuine confusion.

"...What are you even talking about? There hasn’t been a single moment when you’ve been ’cool.’"

"Gah! Grrr...!" Rocco growled in frustration.

What a mean protagonist! Rocco thought, trembling as if on the verge of an outburst.

Sure, Sylas might not like him, but couldn’t he at least acknowledge Rocco’s universally recognized, super-cool demeanor?

It was obvious he was cool—how could anyone not see it?

"Fine! I’m mad now!" Rocco declared with a pout.

Taking advantage of the moment when Sylas turned his attention elsewhere, Rocco hopped off Sylas’s lap, darting away.

Hugging his Mr. Bunny close, tears streaming down his face, he made a beeline for Georgio.

Georgio, ever the opportunist, grinned broadly and caught Rocco in a dramatic embrace. "There, there! Poor Master, that must’ve been scary! Don’t worry, I’m here now. You’re safe!"

"Georgio, Georgio! Waaah! I am cool! I am smart!" Rocco sobbed into Georgio’s chest.

"Of course you are! Master is super cool! Super smart! Don’t let those weird things Sylas said get to you!" Georgio reassured him, ruffling his hair and showering him with over-the-top affection.

As Georgio cuddled Rocco like a pampered kitten, he planted a few unnecessary kisses on the top of Rocco’s head.

Ignoring Georgio’s antics, Rocco clung tightly to him.

If only Georgio could stop with the weird behavior, he’d be a pretty handsome guy.

It was a shame he had to be such a hopeless flirt—but maybe that was part of his charm.

"Be careful now, Master," Georgio teased. "Mr. Bunny’s going to get all wet if you keep crying like this! Not that I mind—your crying face is so exciting—but no crying in front of anyone but me, okay?"

Rocco didn’t fully understand most of what Georgio was saying, but the thought of his beloved Mr. Bunny getting soaked struck a chord.

Quickly wiping his tears, he glanced down at his arms.

Sure enough, a portion of Mr. Bunny had become damp from the torrent of tears he’d shed.

It would be downright disrespectful to get snot on Mr. Bunny too, so he sniffled hard.

"Ugh... sniff... poor Mr. Bunny..."

"Ack! Ragar! I can’t let go of Master right now—help him with his runny nose!" Georgio called out dramatically to Ragar.

Ragar, who had been watching the whole scene unfold with the resigned air of a spectator, sighed but quickly stepped forward in response to Georgio’s call.

In a flurry of movement, Ragar knelt beside Rocco and busily wiped his nose with a tissue.

The sight was oddly surreal.

Rocco hadn’t expected to need someone to assist with his runny nose, and frankly, he found it rather undignified.

"Master, Master, blow your nose—go on, blow," Ragar instructed with a serious expression.

"Ragar, your explanations are terrible," Georgio teased from the side. "It’s not blowing, it’s more like snooort!"

Completely ignoring them, Rocco puffed up his cheeks and forcefully expelled his own snort! to clear his nose.

Unfortunately, he underestimated his own strength, and a bit more than intended came out.