The Villainous Male Supporting Character Courts Death Every Day : Chapter 4: Firelight

Kyle removed his clothes, revealing his robust and tall figure. He wrapped a bath towel around his waist and stepped into the bath. The moment his wounds touched the foam, he merely furrowed his brows slightly, not making a sound, then continued scrubbing the young man as if nothing had happened. Only his expression was stiff, as if he were enduring something.

Milo saw Kyle’s deep gaze and dark face, assuming he was in pain from his wounds and unwilling to endure the humiliation. His heart grew even more pleased. He deliberately leaned in closer and said with a malicious smile: “Kyle, be gentler. You are hurting me.”

Without showing any reaction, Kyle glanced at the alluring sight beneath the water, his fingers rubbing the young man’s delicate and smooth skin. Kyle’s expression grew even darker: “Yes, young master.”

Having admired enough of Kyle’s ashen face, Milo turned his head again to look at the fresh wounds on Kyle’s body, his gaze entranced, as if admiring some work of art. Little did he know that under his scorching gaze, the owner of those scars was burning up all over.

The wounds had been pulled by a day of muscle movement, soaked in sweat, steeped in water, and covered in foam. They were moist, red, and swollen, pitiful to behold. Milo spoke with something like admiration: “Does it hurt?”

“It does not hurt.” Kyle continued kneading Milo’s shoulders on his own, as if he felt nothing from the wounds on his body. Suddenly he spoke: “Young master, you had heatstroke today. You need to soak for a while longer.”

“I told you I did not have heatstroke, you brainless thing.” The young master chided softly, not angry, merely tracing the shapes of the wounds on the man’s chest with his slender fingers.

Feeling the jade-like fingers touching him, Kyle’s body stiffened. The young man’s fingertips brushed across his chest like feathers tickling, bringing waves of tingling that made his scalp go numb. He took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the romantic thoughts filling his mind, and whispered almost pleadingly: “Young master, I am dull-witted. Please punish me.”

Milo certainly would not let him go out to receive punishment. He watched with satisfaction the man’s suppressed appearance, lightly pressing his fingers on the scars to stimulate the wounds into oozing beads of blood, and said softly: “You always underestimate me, do you not?”

Kyle’s breathing was heavy, sweat rolling down his forehead, yet he did not dodge. He merely said hoarsely: “This lowly one dares not.”

“Dares not?” Milo laughed softly, his tone carrying a sarcastic drawl: “Why do I feel… that you are quite bold.”

Kyle’s brows furrowed tightly, his gaze dark and deep: “This lowly one has always done his duty diligently. I would not dare show the slightest disrespect to you.”

The young master smiled mischievously, leaning in even closer, his body almost against the man’s chest, whispering in the man’s ear: “I have always known. You are not afraid of me at all.”

Kyle slightly turned his head, avoiding Milo’s scorching breath.

“Do not move.” Milo stopped the man’s evasion in a low voice and laughed softly: “Keep pretending then. Let us see how long you can keep pretending.” Saying this, his fingers slowly slid along the scars, caressing the man’s heart, navel, lower abdomen, slowly going down…

Kyle’s face was taut, veins jumping on his forehead. Rising waves of desire surged like tides, washing against his reason again and again. He pressed his lips tight, using all his strength to restrain the surging impulse, his voice low and hoarse: “Young master, please stop fooling around.”

Milo raised his eyes, admiring the man’s rare loss of composure. Suddenly, he grasped the man’s arousal.

“Ugh…” Kyle let out a muffled groan, his face showing pain, even his neck flushing red.

“Oh my, Butler Kyle, you actually… got hard?” The young man blew air into the man’s ear, deliberately misinterpreting the natural physical reaction of being in hot water, maliciously humiliating him: “The most outstanding butler in the ducal mansion, getting an erection while serving his master in the bath. What kind of behavior is that?”

Kyle did not dare breathe, his blood boiling. He only felt his desire in the young man’s soft little hand, every cell in his body jumping wildly. He clenched his fist, his nails digging deep into his palm, and spoke with difficulty: “Young master, I am sorry. Please punish me.”

Seeing Kyle’s pained appearance, as if he only wanted to quickly accept punishment and escape his current humiliating situation, Milo decided to push harder.

“Truly an ill-mannered thing…” The young man’s pink lips were almost touching the man’s earlobe, murmuring in an ambiguous whisper: “Truly a lowly bastard child.”

Kyle’s pupils contracted sharply, his whole body tensing, his muscles bulging and trembling faintly, as if some enormous emotion were filling his body. After a long while, he slowly exhaled a breath, ultimately maintaining his calm and polite composure. As usual, he responded respectfully: “The young master’s lesson is right. Please punish me.”

Milo studied him for a moment, scoffed, then let go with satisfaction, waving his hand in a good mood: “Go down. You are not needed here. I will settle accounts with you later.”

Kyle’s eyes were dark. He silently got up to take his leave: “Thank you, young master. I will take my leave first.”

Milo leaned lazily in the bathtub to rest with his eyes closed, not responding. Only when he heard the sound of Kyle closing the door and leaving did he open his eyes, looking at the system page that only he could see:

Weekly Mission: Punish Kyle (Completed)
Daily Mission: Torment Kyle (Completed)
Timed Mission: Humiliate Kyle (Completed)

Seeing that all the missions were completed, Milo breathed a sigh of relief.

“Ah, that was not easy.” Milo complained softly, thinking that this task of bullying the male lead seemed simple but was actually incredibly difficult. When the male lead was young it was fine, but the more he grew, the stronger his body and mental fortitude became. Simple bullying and humiliation could no longer meet the mission requirements, forcing him to vary his methods, using all kinds of tricks in rotation, wearing himself out in the process.

Milo was not averse to completing the missions. He even somewhat enjoyed them. He had an emotional connection with the original character. The original character held extreme disgust and jealousy toward Kyle. Though he himself did not dislike Kyle, he could still derive immense pleasure from tormenting him. And he only had one type of mission: tormenting Kyle.

As if his sole purpose for existing was to torment Kyle. He was born for this, and never tired of it.

“It seems sexual humiliation is an effective method.” Milo summarized after recalling today’s results. Indeed, new tricks were still needed. The male lead’s psychology was becoming more and more unbreakable. In order to break him, he himself had to become more unbreakable too. Milo was helpless.

If this continued, he was afraid that before long, he would no longer be able to complete the missions. He wondered if he could make his timely exit before the male lead became unbreakably resilient.

According to the original plot background, after Milo’s death, the bastard child Kyle would be regarded as the prime suspect and subjected to severe torture. Bearing this unjust accusation, he would completely lose faith in the old duke, from then on turning dark and demonic, embarking on a magnificent path of revenge to the peak.

Calculating the days, Milo speculated that the male lead Kyle should already have begun following the plot, using his position as butler to secretly build up a hidden and eerie network of power and influence, paving the way for the protagonist group to gather. However, recalling Kyle’s respectful and submissive appearance before him, Milo could not help but worry.

“Is the male lead actually following the plot? Could he have been tormented so badly that he has really become obedient?” Milo submerged himself in the water, boredly blowing bubbles, deciding to think of some way to probe the male lead’s progress.

***************

Kyle’s face was dark. He stood outside the door soaking wet, his hair clinging damply to his face, water droplets falling one by one from his jaw, his shirt clinging tightly to his body, outlining smooth curves. Yet his gaze was like a sharp blade, cold enough to freeze, making him appear both wretched and dangerous.

The sound of Milo bathing came to his ears, the water lapping, splashing and tugging at the man’s heartstrings. Kyle’s fist hanging at his side clenched tight, his knuckles turning white, his pitch-black eyes surging with scorching flames, as if they could burn everything to ashes.

One day… I will pin you beneath me, make you cry and beg me, look up to me, submit to me, belong to me completely and utterly…