"You're finally awake."
The moment Mason saw Cain regain consciousness, he practically panicked and rushed over to check on him. "How are you feeling?" he asked, already thinking that he should probably call the doctor...
Just as Mason was about to act, Cain lifted his hand to stop him. "Right now I just want some quiet."
Seeing Cain behave normally, Mason couldn't help but let out a breath of relief. "Thank goodness you're fine. The doctor said there was a blood clot in your head, but luckily it dissolved..."
Mason had been terrified that Cain's mind might have been affected. He never expected that the blow from that stick would actually help remove the clot. Thinking back, it was likely that Cain had been wandering outside and not returning because he couldn't remember anything.
At that moment, Cain suddenly raised his hand, and Mason immediately brought the phone over.
Cain's mind was still filled with thoughts of the traitor, but the instant he saw the date on the screen, he froze for a moment. A sharp, stabbing pain burst through his head.
Seeing Cain suddenly clutch his head, Mason felt his heart tighten as if squeezed. He hastily called for the doctor again and again.
More than thirty minutes later...
After running through another round of tests, Mason sat beside Cain, who looked as if he were deep in thought. Mason couldn't help asking, "So you don't remember anything that happened during the time you were missing?"
Even so, Mason silently felt relieved. It was fine even if he didn't remember. As long as he still had his previous memories, that was enough.
He didn't think anything worth remembering had happened while Cain was gone. At most, maybe someone helped him out, and then Cain worked odd jobs outside to get by.
Cain thought the same. He shouldn't have cared so much—but for some reason, his heart was pounding strangely fast, and instinct urged him to remember everything.
But he couldn't. There was nothing except the vague silhouette of a single person.
So blurry he couldn't distinguish it. Who?
Cain's face darkened. A strange, uncomfortable frustration surged within him. His voice turned cold. "Have you found the traitor yet?"
Hearing Cain's icy tone, Mason knew a storm was coming. He quickly straightened up and reported everything properly.
…
Saphen had taken leave. Or more accurately, 6677 had forced him to take leave—sending a message directly to management and not even caring what they replied.
Saphen lay on the bed, arms and legs spread out in an X-shape, his eyes blankly staring up at the ceiling.
His head still throbbed with a dull ache, his nose was clogged, his throat hurt, and he had absolutely no desire to get up.
6677 stood beside him, holding a thermometer. "Good thing it looks like we won't need to go to the hospital. Your medicine works. Get up and eat something, then take another dose."
Saphen turned his head to look at 6677. It took him quite a while before he finally answered, "I can't cook."
Then he let out a dramatic sigh. "I miss Cain. Not everyone can be as perfect as the male lead, after all."
6677: "..."
It snapped irritably, "I already ordered food for you!"
With Saphen's cooking skills, 6677 wouldn't dare let him cook while sick. It was afraid Saphen would end up giving himself food poisoning again.
Hearing that, Saphen looked at 6677, his gaze drifting into empty space. After another long moment, he asked, "You ordered food? I don't see anything."
6677 snorted, lifting one chubby little front paw. Its round legs wiggled as if it were about to snap its fingers.
Immediately after, a bowl of minced pork and scallion congee appeared on the bedside table!
Saphen's eyes widened. His already foggy brain felt like it overloaded—his little head felt like it was about to explode at any moment.
6677 hopped onto Saphen's body, stepping on him twice, lifting its chin high with an incredibly smug, chubby demeanor. "Look carefully, human. I am a system. A system, you hear?!"
Saphen stayed silent. 6677 was already used to this reaction. Sure enough, after a while, Saphen finally blinked and nodded. "Thank you. You're adorable."
Normally, Saphen would never call 6677 cute. But today he'd already said it several times.
6677 silently rolled its eyes, deeply condemning Saphen's blatant behavior.
It huffed, "Don't worry. I'll deduct the credits for the congee from your reward once the mission's done."
Saphen: "..."
At least everything turned out fine in the end. He was grateful to have 6677 by his side.
…
Cain knew he was dreaming again, but he didn't want to wake up.
He simply sat quietly on the chair, eyes wide open, trying his best to focus on the space before him. Yet everything within his sight remained forever blurry.
No matter how hard he tried, fate seemed determined to keep him from seeing anything clearly.
A person was sitting across from him, resting his chin on his hand. A faint, indifferent smile hung on his lips, and every time those beautiful lips moved, the beauty mark beneath the corner of his mouth shifted with them.
Cain reached out, instinctively wanting to touch him—almost entranced—his heart thudding powerfully, his chest filling with a tender sweetness. But the moment his fingertips brushed the corner of that person's mouth, the smile suddenly vanished.
Cain reflexively drew his fingers back, panic flickering in his eyes. "Why… what's wrong…"
He should have called out a name—yet he couldn't remember it at all.
The man abruptly stood. The corner of his mouth drooped slightly as he spoke in a cold voice, "You abandoned me. Why did you come back? Get out."
It felt as if thunder exploded beside Cain's ears. His lips parted in stunned panic, his heart seized tight, fear surging to the extreme.
He shook his head desperately. "No, I didn't abandon you, I just—"
But the man didn't seem willing to hear a single word of explanation.
A detached gaze swept over him, and then the man turned around and walked away.
Cain called out in despair. He wanted to stand, to chase after him—but he couldn't. It was as if he were glued to the chair, unable to move, forced to watch the figure grow farther and farther away. And he himself was swallowed by darkness, devoured by his own memories.
"No! Don't go!"
In the darkness, Cain jerked upright in panic. He gasped for breath, cold sweat dripping down from his forehead. His hair fell forward, partly concealing the panic and pain contorting his face.
Instinctively, he looked around. The wide room was empty, with no traces of light—only himself.
His gaze drifted to his side. Irritated, he lifted his hand and gripped the hair at his forehead, clenching his teeth hard.
It had been over two months since the day he woke up from the hospital.
He had almost swept through the traitors at the fastest possible speed, stabilizing his power once more.
He had always known he was dreaming—the doctor had said it was probably just the aftermath of his concussion.
But Cain knew it wasn't. The dreams were growing longer and clearer. What had once been only a blurred silhouette… now he could see the man's lips.
Yet in every dream, that man left him—always blaming him for abandoning him.
What were they to each other? What had happened during that missing time? What was the thing he had forgotten?!
Cain desperately wanted to remember everything. He felt that if this continued, there would be no saving anything...