From Apocalypse To Entertainment Circle (BL)-Chapter 22: Whispers of the Captive, Shadows of the Storm

The dim light of the living room cast a warm glow over the gathering, yet the atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension. Everyone was entertained by Sian’s playful quips, his serious demeanor creating an oddly charming contrast that tugged at the heartstrings of those around him. Each time he spoke, his words danced in the air, inviting smiles even in the shadow of uncertainty.

Lan Qisheng watched Sian with a mixture of admiration and longing—his little sweetheart was simply too adorable. That innocent smile and those sparkling eyes stirred something deep within him. The urge to kiss him flared, but he quickly choked it down, unwilling to scare his delicate butterfly away. Lan Qisheng understood the fragility of beauty, and he was determined to capture it, no matter how careful he would have to be.

Hiding his dark thoughts deep within his heart, Lan Qisheng turned his gaze toward Sian and said, "This is the escaped prisoner I told you about before. He tried to attack us, but we managed to capture him," he said, maintaining an authoritative tone.

Sian’s gaze shifted to the bound man sprawled on the floor, face marred with bruises, evidence of a brutal confrontation, most of which were inflicted by Zhao Ling. The sight made everyone’s stomachs turn; the stark contrast between Sian’s innocence and the man’s grim reality cast an unsettling shadow over the room.

The prisoner, wounded and trembling, met Sian’s gaze for a fleeting moment before looking away, a wave of fear washing over him. Yet it was Sian’s smile that sent chills rippling down his spine. It was strange—the warmth in Sian’s presence felt like the steep drop of a rollercoaster, thrilling yet terrifying, like facing a storm with no protection.

Just as Sian leaned closer, curiosity sparkling in his eyes, Lan Qisheng intervened. His grip was firm as he restrained Sian, an unexpected flash of protectiveness igniting in his chest. "Don’t touch him. He’s filthy. Your hands will get dirty."

Sian blinked, the bewilderment painted across his features spoke volumes. "I just want to free his mouth. I have something to ask him," he replied softly, the resolve in his voice unwavering.

Behind them, the room filled with hushed murmurs. Lan Qisheng’s team exchanged glances, concern etched in their brows. It wasn’t dislike for Sian that churned their stomachs; it was the inherent danger of a criminal standing so close to someone they cared about. Even if he appeared stronger than he looked, they couldn’t shake the instinct to guard him from harm.

Lan Qisheng knew this, and with a deep sigh, he announced, "I’ll do it for you. If you want to talk to him, do it from a distance."

The air shifted, the tension halting for a moment as the soldiers released relieved sighs. As long as their captain was in charge, the risk seemed bearable. They were warriors, trained to protect, yet they found themselves torn between their duties and their emotions.

As Lan Qisheng freed the prisoner’s mouth, a hush enveloped the room. Sian’s smile, innocent yet unnerving, beckoned the man’s attention. But the moment their gazes met, the prisoner looked away, dread pooling in his gut. That childlike smile—how could it evoke the same sense of authority he felt under his boss? The sensation was impossible to reconcile, yet there it was, prickling at his senses.

"Hey, you. Why did you surrender yourself to us?" Sian asked, his voice laced with curiosity yet carrying an undercurrent of something far deeper.

An eerie silence fell over the room, thick with anticipation, as Sian’s question resonated in the air. It was deceptively simple, but the implications weighed heavily, revealing cracks in their understanding of the situation. Lan Qisheng’s brow furrowed in thought. "Why do you think he surrendered to us?" he challenged, suspicion creeping into his tone.

Sian shrugged, "Oh, it’s simple. I saw this man following us yesterday. He was near the house the entire time, just staying out of sight. Since none of you sensed his presence, and he didn’t make a move, I left him alone."

"Impossible! There’s no way you saw me! It was pitch dark, and I kept a huge distance between us!" The prisoner’s voice rang out, tinged with disbelief, yet a flicker of realization ignited within him. He hadn’t desired to be seen, but something about Sian felt unsettlingly potent. He felt their eyes meet for only a heartbeat last night, shrouded in shadows, and yet now, the memory felt as vivid as day. A chill constricted around his heart.

Lan Qisheng and his team exchanged glances, their expressions darkening, brows knitting with concern. Ren Yi, usually a paragon of composure, suddenly surged with fury. Leaping forward, grabbing the man by the collar and lifting him inches off the ground. "So you’ve been tailing us since last night? Hah? Speak! What do you want?" His voice, jagged like broken glass, ignited the air with contained fury.

The prisoner spoke weakly, realizing there was no escape from the question. His face pale and gaunt, leaned against the wall, eyes darting as if every creak of the old wooden floor might herald the arrival of death. "I... I just want you to protect me. They’ll kill me if they find me. Please." His voice was barely a whisper but echoed loudly in the silent room.

Fear shone in his wide, panicked eyes, betraying the depth of his desperation. The members of Lan Qisheng’s team exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them, underlined by the knowledge of the danger that lurked outside. The people he was terrified of weren’t just figments of his imagination; they had been waiting, surrounding the dense forest like wolves hunting their prey. And they were hungry.

Lan Qisheng studied the man intently, his mind racing. If this guy is so important to them, then he’ll be extremely useful for negotiating the hostages’ lives—and our own. The gravity of their situation weighed down on him, but buried beneath the worry was a flicker of hope. The kind of hope that could mean survival.

"Just who are these people?" Ren Yi interjected, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "And what exactly do they want with you?"

The prisoner swallowed hard, his throat dry and tight. "Information...I have valuable information about the organization," he gasped. "And... the weapons... I...I stole a shipment. And hide it."

As he spoke, the team members leaned in closer, rapt with attention. This was not just a man; he was a key to their own salvation. With every word, they felt the stakes rise higher, questioning whether they could protect not only him but also themselves and the hostages still held captive.

The weight of the situation was palpable. Sian, always the composed one, broke into a wry grin, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

"Well, with the cameras rolling, The Wolf Clan must already be aware of his presence here. We need to come up with a solid plan before they make their move." Yang Chen said with a serious tone.

Yet, just as the air felt charged with the promise of strategy, Sian stretched languidly, let his military dagger slip from its sheath, and examined its edge thoughtfully. The atmosphere shifted, alertness crackling like static.

"Ah, unfortunately," he drawled, turning his gaze to the rest of the group, "it’s too late for that."

The rugged handsomeness of Sian became more pronounced as he shrugged off his jacket, revealing a fitted white shirt that clung to his frame. He was the picture of lethal grace. A wave of admiration followed by apprehension washed over Lan Qisheng.

"Get ready," Sian commanded, authority lacing his voice. "We’re under attack."

The words hung heavy in the air, a chilling realization settling upon them. The prisoner flinched as if he could already hear the approaching threat, his breath quickening. Lan Qisheng’s instincts kicked in, adrenaline surging through his veins. They had prepared for infiltration and negotiation, not an outright assault.

"Everyone, to your positions!" Lan Qisheng barked. The urgency in his voice galvanized the team; they sprang into action, scarcely needing direction. They moved fluidly, each member familiar with their role, drawing on experiences from countless missions before this.

In an instant, the room transformed from a place of negotiation into a tactical hub. The energy shifted, heavy with purpose, each second stretching into eternity as they fortified their defenses. Sian took a position near the door, eyes scanning for any sign of their attackers. Ren Yi and Zhao Ling crouched by a window, peering out into the twilight.