The Fake Son Wants to Live [BL] Chapter 90 - The plan

Bian's legs felt like jelly as he followed the monstrous creature toward the bushes. The word it had spoken—"Co."—echoed in his head, chilling him to his core. It was wrong sohow, like the voice of sothing that shouldn't be speaking at all.

The creature moved with a disturbing grace, its slimy tentacles shifting soundlessly over the ground. Every nerve in Bian's body scread at him to run, but he knew better. If he ran, he would die.

Swallowing thickly, he stepped past the thick huckleberry bushes.

Then, he saw it.

At first, it looked like nothing more than a burned patch of earth, a strange, scorched circle hidden between the dense foliage. The air shimred slightly above it, almost like a mirage.

And then—

A massive ship materialized out of nowhere.

Bian's breath hitched in his throat.

It was enormous, sleek yet organic in design, as if it had grown rather than been built. The outer shell pulsed faintly with veins of bioluminescent blue light, curving into an almost insectoid shape. It looked alive.

His stomach churned.

The alien slithered toward it without hesitation, passing through what seed to be a smooth, transparent mbrane at the entrance.

Bian hesitated.

The ground beneath his feet felt too solid, too safe. Whatever waited for him inside that thing was unknown, terrifying, dangerous—

"Co."

The voice rang in his skull again, and he had no choice but to obey.

Steeling himself, he stepped forward.

The mbrane felt wrong as he passed through it—slick, warm, as if he was moving through the mouth of a living thing. It clung to him for a second before releasing him inside.

Bian barely held back a shudder.

The interior of the ship was otherworldly.

The walls were smooth and dark, like obsidian, but they breathed. The sa glowing blue veins pulsed along the structure, casting an eerie light. There were no sharp edges, no seams—everything curved seamlessly into the next, as if the entire ship was one massive organism.

The air slled faintly tallic, tinged with sothing bitter and unfamiliar. The temperature was neither warm nor cold, but an unsettling in-between, as though the ship itself was watching him, adjusting to his presence.

A strange humming filled the space, low and rhythmic, like a heartbeat.

Bian swallowed hard, his gaze darting around.

Then he saw them.

Four aliens stood in a semi-circle in the center of the chamber.

They were similar to the one who had captured him—tall, grotesquely long-limbed, with glistening, rubbery skin that shimred in shades of blue and green. Their bulbous heads twitched slightly as if sniffing the air, and their black, beady eyes locked onto him the mont he entered.

The clicking sound they had been making—low, constant—stopped.

Silence fell.

Bian froze.

For a few seconds, nothing happened.

Then one of the aliens took a slow step forward.

A fresh wave of fear gripped him. His fingers curled into his palms, his nails digging into his broken skin. His throat felt tight, as if he couldn't breathe.

The alien studied him.

Then—

"Is this the one?"

The voice—deep, guttural, vibrating through his bones rather than through the air—ca from the creature closest to him.

Bian's knees nearly buckled.

They were communicating.

"Yes." The alien that had captured him responded, its tentacles shifting slightly. "He knows where the Farian prince is."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Four pairs of unblinking black eyes bore into him.

Bian's heart pounded.

He had walked into sothing far worse than he had imagined.

Bian's breath was ragged as he tried to steady himself. The cold, unnatural air inside the ship made his skin prickle, but he pushed his fear down, gripping onto his desperation like a lifeline.

Taking a deep breath, he forced confidence into his trembling voice.

"He is close," Bian said, eyes darting between the towering figures before him. "But you need a plan to take him out. He's a slippery fucker—I tried to kill him so many tis, yet he lived!" His voice turned bitter toward the end, teeth grinding at the mory of each failed attempt.

The largest of the aliens, slightly greener than the others, slithered forward. Its massive form lood over Bian, its beady black eyes unblinking, void of any emotion he could understand.

"How?" it rasped in that strange, vibrating voice.

A slow, wide grin stretched across Bian's face.

"I'll tell you," he said, voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. His fingers twitched at his sides, his mind racing with twisted glee.

If he couldn't have what he wanted, then neither could Jian.

He would make sure of it.

"I'll tell you exactly how to kill him."

Jian adjusted his backpack and straightened his uniform as he prepared to leave for school. His grandfather, ever doting, circled around him with a scrutinizing gaze.

"Your shoes are dirty," the old man muttered, clicking his tongue. Before Jian could protest, his grandfather bent down and wiped them with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Grandpa!" Jian whined, feeling both touched and embarrassed. "You don't have to do that."

"There, all shiny now." His grandfather patted his knee before standing up with a satisfied nod. "Go on, have a good day, my boy." He adjusted his old gardening hat and grabbed his tools, heading toward the flower beds in the vast mansion garden.

Jian bit his lip, warmth filling his chest. He knew his grandfather lived for these small monts of taking care of him. With a small smile, he waved and headed toward the sleek black car waiting for him in the driveway.

The driver, a polite man with neatly combed hair, opened the door for him. Jian slid into the leather seat, settling in for the ride.

As soon as the car started, the driver turned slightly, his expression calm yet curious.

"It's a small trivia, sir, but what is the password?"

Jian blinked before grinning. "Marshmallow."

The driver's smile widened, and he nodded approvingly. "Correct."

Jian chuckled, relaxing into the seat as the car smoothly pulled out of the driveway. Today was just another normal school day—or so he thought.