Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are Are So Dangerous! [BL]-Chapter 140: Secrets and Schemes

What is this? I’m not on death’s doorstep! Rocco thought, exasperated.

"Well, well, has the little prince made her grand return?"

Rocco’s frustration was interrupted by a familiar voice.

He froze for a moment before glancing around.

Before he could locate the speaker, Makarov appeared, stepping lightly around his father’s shoulder with a sly smile.

Makarov’s cheerful grin bore down on Rocco, who mustered a polite smile in return while trying to suppress the nervous tremors running through his body.

Makarov was, as a rule, just a little intimidating.

Perhaps it was because Rocco couldn’t shake the image of his yandere and scheming personas from the original story.

"Our Laxus was worried about you as well," Makarov remarked with a smile. "At least your fever has gone down—that’s the most important thing."

"Ah, I-I’m so sorry... collapsing like that in the middle of such an important meeting..."

"No, no! There’s no need to apologize," Makarov said gently, cutting off Rocco’s nervous apology. "If anything, the fault lies with us for not being considerate enough, knowing you’ve always been frail."

The kind response caught Rocco off guard.

He had expected something harsher.

However, then again, Sylas and his father were already so different from the one in the original storyline.

So, it wasn’t far-fetched to think Makarov’s character might have softened as well.

Maybe I’ve been too biased, Rocco thought, his guard lowered.

The Del Fiores are actually a kind family.

Relaxing completely, Rocco gave Makarov a soft, unguarded smile.

"Lord Makarov, you’re so nice. I like you."

"Ehh... What is this? I’m so easily charmed... so adorable... I want to take him home."

Rocco’s affection was simple: he loved kind people, especially in this treacherous mafia world.

Smiling warmly, Rocco basked in Makarov’s gentle words.

Makarov, in turn, murmured something under his breath and began to affectionately ruffle Rocco’s hair, almost like he was doting on a beloved pet.

It was a bit rough, but Rocco didn’t mind.

He liked being petted.

"Hey, is it really not allowed? Can’t I just take him as my son’s wife?"

"If you dare utter that nonsense a second time, I will kill you," came Marcus’s icy retort.

"Oh, come on! Laxus’s amazing, you know? Sure, he’s a little obsessive and emotionally intense, and maybe some screws are loose, but he’s way more capable than your average thug!"

"That makes it even worse. I’m baffled as to why you thought that argument would work."

The "papa squad" appeared to be engrossed in some sort of hushed conversation.

However, Rocco, too preoccupied with how soothing Makarov’s pets felt, couldn’t catch the details.

As Makarov scratched under his chin, squished his cheeks, and combed his hair with his fingers, Rocco’s thoughts drifted.

Hmm... Makarov really is skilled at this petting thing...

...

"Honestly, Father is so demanding with his errands," Laxus muttered under his breath.

By now, his father and the others were likely still in the grand lobby, leisurely exchanging farewells.

Of course, the so-called conversation was just a pretense—a tactic to distract the Don Ferocelli family and buy Laxus more time.

Compared to his father’s task, which was low-risk and simple, Laxus’s mission was decidedly more precarious.

Currently, Laxus was in the Head of the Don Ferocelli family’s study room.

The suspicions surrounding the Head of the Don Ferocelli family were still in a gray area—not quite guilty, but not innocent either.

That ambiguity was what made the situation so troublesome.

"Jet, any luck? Have you found the item?"

Laxus addressed his hooded subordinate, Jet, who was clad in black and currently rummaging through the desk. freёwebnoѵel.com

Jet paused, shook his head lightly, and resumed his search.

As expected, the Head of the Don Ferocelli family wasn’t foolish enough to leave something so important in such an obvious place.

The Don Ferocelli family had a long-standing reputation for being painstakingly cautious.

While failing to find the item didn’t confirm their guilt, it also made it harder to argue for their innocence.

According to Mahmoud, Sylas’s right-hand man, the Heir of the Don Ferocelli family, Feilu, likely knew something crucial.

If that were true, the Head of the Don Ferocelli family was probably complicit.

"...Though, it’s also possible that guy Feilu is acting on his own," Laxus murmured, considering the alternative.

There had always been faintly sinister rumors swirling around the Don Ferocelli family.

Laxus had instructed Mahmoud to bait Feilu into revealing something, and the trap seemed to have worked better than anticipated.

While Laxus still didn’t have solid proof that the Don Ferocelli family wasn’t truly "neutral," the evidence strongly suggested Feilu was hiding something.

The bigger question was whether Feilu’s secret benefactor was the same mastermind Laxus and his family had been hunting.

"Looks like you’re not having much luck either, Jet," Laxus commented, flipping through the paintings on the wall and watching Jet out of the corner of his eye.

Jet meticulously checked every drawer, confirming there weren’t any false bottoms or hidden compartments.

Yet nothing turned up.

It was becoming increasingly likely that the item was stored elsewhere—perhaps in a hidden safe.

When Jet slumped his shoulders apologetically, Laxus offered a few encouraging words.

"Don’t worry. This is what we expected, right?"

"If it’s not in the study... that leaves the bedroom as the likeliest location," Laxus said thoughtfully.

The bedroom was a highly private space, rarely entered by outsiders.

It made perfect sense for something sensitive to be hidden there.

It was the perfect place to hide secrets.

However, the downside was that security was often thinner when unoccupied.

It was hard to imagine the cautious Don Ferocelli head leaving his bedroom entirely unprotected.

Perhaps it would be wiser to gather more concrete information before making a move.

As Laxus mulled over his options, he suddenly sensed Jet’s presence close by and turned to look.

"Hm? What’s up, Jet... Oh, I see. It’s about time for the Head of the Don Ferocelli family to return, isn’t it?"

Jet gestured frantically, his arms flailing in urgency.