“Ha, ah....”

Exhaling a ragged breath, Hugo caught Leonardo Blaine’s body just as it seemed ready to collapse. He propped Leonardo’s slumped head against the wall and leaned his own forehead against him. Their entangled legs trembled precariously, so Hugo pressed his upper body flush against him to keep him upright.

The convulsing body squeezed out the last of the ejaculate before going limp, as if a fuse had blown.

Even in the darkness, his throat was visibly flushed a deep crimson, pulsing rapidly.

“Ugh, hu....”

The sound of stifled breathing echoed wetly against the palm of Hugo’s hand. The golden eyes, stripped of their usual focus, grew hazy as the tremors of passion slowly subsided.

The area beneath his eyes, beaded with sweat, quivered slightly, and a single tear traced a path down his heated lids.

Feeling the moisture, Hugo slowly withdrew the hand that had been pressing down on Leonardo's lower face. Immediately, a shallow breath burst from the reddened lips, which were slick with saliva.

“Haa—.”

His head lolled forward as he gasped repeatedly before breaking into a fit of coughing. It was then, while Hugo was patting and supporting his back, that a sound came from the door.

Knock, knock—

“Are you inside? Please come out.”

The subordinate knocked again. A beam of light from the keyhole swept across the interior, demanding a response. The voice sounded halfway certain that someone was there.

As Leonardo’s slender thighs continued to twitch incessantly, Hugo held him close, calming him until the tremors stopped. A damp, sweltering heat rose between the two of them. Leonardo’s fingertips fluttered as he clung to the hem of the Duke’s drooping cloak.

Hugo buried his lips against Leonardo's neck, catching his breath. Then, he closed his sunken eyes and spoke.

“What is it?”

A voice cloaked in the dignity of a Legion Commander resonated through the quiet room. He sounded perfectly composed, as if nothing had happened. The presence outside, which had been wary in anticipation of catching an intruder, faltered.

“Uh... Legion Commander?”

“Is that you, Commander?”

Their bewilderment was palpable through the door. Hugo, who had yet to fully steady his own breathing, slowly moved his chest before lifting his head.

He brushed Leonardo’s hair back and exhaled a low breath before answering.

“I asked what the matter was.”

It was a fabricated tone, yet it was so stern and dry that one could never imagine what had just transpired inside. Leonardo merely buried his head in Hugo’s chest, his body shivering intermittently as he struggled for air. Internally, however, he scoffed at °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° the man’s behavior.

I knew nobles were good at acting, but I didn’t realize he was a better performer than I am.

“Ah, our apologies. We are currently opening and inspecting every room to search for an intruder within Operations Headquarters. Um, as for you, Commander....”

He seemed to be asking why Hugo was in there—in a room with a broken doorknob and the lights turned off.

Of course, the subordinate didn't finish the sentence.

“I was looking for something.”

After a brief reply, Hugo supported the small of Leonardo’s back with one hand. With the other, he gestured through the air to tidy the disarrayed room. A sphere of water-colored light formed in his palm, expanding until it filled the rectangular space.

Save for the small radius where the two stood, a silent spray of water swept across the floors, walls, and ceiling. Dust from the shelves and bodily fluids splattered across the surfaces were swept up by the undulating waves and gathered into a single point. The water then returned to the shape of a small sphere, encasing the residue before freezing into ice.

Rolling across the floor to a corner, the ice ball came to rest near a recorder with a blinking light and a wet tie.

With a flick of his hand, Hugo levitated the evidence and tucked it into his back pocket.

“If you haven’t found it yet, we can search for it and deliver it to you.”

Sensing the Commander’s displeasure, the subordinate continued nervously. He assumed Hugo had been personally searching for the intruder to resolve the chaotic situation. Instead of answering, Hugo touched the viscous liquid trickling down his own cheek.

He thought it might be sweat, but that was impossible. It was more than just sticky; it stretched—it was definitely thick semen.

He glanced down at his own chest to find a similar state. When he ran his hand over Leonardo’s lower abdomen, a small sob escaped the other man.

As if to soothe him, Hugo pressed his lips to Leonardo’s head while his palm stroked below the dantian. He could feel the waistband of the trousers, soaked through and clinging to the contours of the skin.

Judging by the lingering heat, he decided it was impossible to show their faces as if nothing had happened. Hugo pulled a handkerchief he always carried from his inner pocket and unfolded it.

“No, I’ve already found it.”

He then tilted Leonardo’s head back.

His intention was to wipe Leonardo’s face, which would be glistening with sweat and saliva.

“More importantly, once the search is complete, withdraw everyone from the basement....”

Hugo trailed off. His eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to Leonardo. Something seemed wrong.

“...Leo?”

No matter how intense the pleasure had been, his eyelids were completely slack. His chest heaved irregularly, and his breathing was labored. His limp limbs were still twitching, caught in the heavy afterglow.

Hugo lowered his voice and called his name a few more times.

“Leo, what’s wrong?”

He grabbed his shoulders and shook him gently, but the response was minimal.

The hand holding the handkerchief tapped Leonardo’s cheek carefully. Hugo even lifted a heavy eyelid to check his pupil response.

Just as he was about to check the pulse in his neck out of concern, a stream of red liquid trickled down from Leonardo’s flushed nose.

“It appears to be caused by a rapid increase in blood flow while the sympathetic nervous system was highly active. In particular, the capillaries in the nasal cavity are vulnerable to pressure increases and can rupture from even minor shocks. Since he was chased by reporters so soon after finishing his match, it seems his blood pressure rose, damaging the internal mucous membranes.”

At the medical officer's words, Hugo turned to his side with an unsatisfied look. Leonardo, who was holding gauze to his nose, glanced at Hugo.

“In cases like this, it’s difficult to locate the specific damaged vessels, so it’s better to let it heal naturally rather than using Recovery magic. If we use regenerative healing unnecessarily, it might regenerate even the naturally shed mucosal cells and cause nasal congestion.”

“Can I assume there are no major issues with his health?”

“Yes, he’ll be fine. We’ve applied a local hemostatic agent, and he’s taken a sympathetic nervous system suppressant and a Plarinus-specific antidote. He should stabilize within a few hours.”

Only then did Hugo let out a sigh of relief. The officer, looking back and forth between the two, added:

“However, the most important thing is sufficient rest. Once damaged, the membranes rupture easily. With this amount of bleeding, the tear must be quite large, so there’s a risk of recurrence even after the physiological symptoms subside. You must be careful throughout the League.”

At that moment, another officer chimed in.

“But it is a bit strange. His physical abilities are excellent, so he shouldn't be affected by just a bit of running.... While Plarinus compounds do cause physiological symptoms, I’ve never seen a case where the nasal membranes ruptured like this. Did you perhaps engage in any strenuous exercise in a short period of time?”

In that instant, blood gushed from Leonardo’s nose again. The flustered medical staff clicked their tongues and hurriedly handed him fresh gauze.

“Hey, don’t talk to the patient. I heard the F-Group match was brutal. Besides, he was walking around without taking his medicine....”

The officer said this while wiping Leonardo’s chin, where blood was dripping. He repeated the warning not to tilt his head back. Then, he turned to the medical team member who was standing nearby like a criminal.

Feeling the pressure, the subordinate bowed ninety degrees to Hugo.

“I’m sorry. I certainly prescribed the medicine... but I failed to confirm if he took it....”

It was the same subordinate who had treated Leonardo and Ero’s wounds at the Gate C Controlled Area earlier. As the man hung his head in guilt, Hugo shook his head to indicate he shouldn't worry.

“It’s fine. It wasn’t your fault.”

As he spoke, Hugo reached out and used a stream of water he summoned to wash Leonardo’s face. He rubbed so vigorously, as if giving him a proper wash, that the patient clothes Leonardo had been changed into became soaked again. Hugo didn't seem to care.

“No matter who brought it, this fellow wouldn't have taken it anyway.”

His tone carried a hint of annoyance for being made to worry. Leonardo, turning his head to avoid the rough touch, glared at him with an incredulous look. His expression clearly argued, Are you saying this is my fault? Who do you think caused the nosebleed? I took the medicine you gave me.

Hugo, who had become adept at reading the intent behind those twitching eyebrows, shot him a look of disapproval.

He knew the nature of 'Lion'—always being on guard—but he had thought it strange that Leonardo’s eyes were so red from the moment they met. It seemed Leonardo had simply ignored the medicine the subordinate had offered after explaining the situation.

“Tsk, reckless as always.”

Clicking his tongue, Hugo took the handkerchief tied around Leonardo’s neck and spread it out to adjust it. It barely managed to cover the neck, which was covered in bruises from where Hugo had bitten him.

Since a simplified version of a prestigious family crest was embroidered on the edge of the navy-blue handkerchief, it was only natural for one of the officers to cast a curious glance. Furthermore, the Commander’s uniform jacket and tie were missing, and despite his disheveled appearance, the scent of a strong perfume was quite prominent. The puzzling part was that the same scent was emanating from the patient leaning against the bed table with a heavy nosebleed.