Help! I Became A Guy In A BL Novel!-Chapter 141: Bored?

Troy blinked, visibly caught off guard. "You are? Are you sure?"

He hadn’t expected such a quick agreement, especially not from Riven, who did not seem like the... Brave or strong or... Like someone who would take action.

"Do you not have any questions for me?" Troy added, still frowning, trying to assess if Riven truly understood what this entailed.

Riven gave a casual shrug and shook his head, his tone light, almost dismissive. "Nah. I know that Ronan will kill you if something happens to me."

He said it so plainly, like he was commenting on the weather. But Troy flinched at the mention. Not because it was untrue—if anything, it was terrifyingly accurate—but because Riven’s words held a quiet confidence that was more unnerving than anything else.

"Besides," Riven continued, unbothered, "I’m the bait. I don’t really have to do much other than just... Exist."

He gave Troy a pointed look, a tiny smirk forming at the corner of his lips.

"You’re the one who has to plan and be very careful."

He put special emphasis on the word very, his voice laced with the kind of casual threat that made Troy shiver. Since when was Riven scary?!

Troy suppressed a shiver. "Right... very careful."

Riven’s eyes sparkled with something mischievous. He wasn’t scared—far from it. There was a strange lightness in his posture now, an ease that hadn’t been there before. He actually looked... excited.

Why? Troy couldn’t help but wonder. It was quite simple, Riven did not want to be a sitting duck. And he should be out there exploring the world, not hiding because of some stupid elders.

He could shift. That alone already gave him a sense of freedom that had been stolen from him since his arrival. And not just shift—his connection to Ronan, the bond forged in instinct and soul, had done something to him.

Strengthened him. He could feel it humming just beneath his skin, especially when he was in his wolf form. It wasn’t a dramatic change, not something easily visible. But it was there, that spark of power, of something ancient and protective and alive.

As for his human form... well, that remained to be seen.

But if things went wrong? If something dangerous happened?

He could run. He did it once, he could do it again. Running away was one of his special skills.

So no, Riven wasn’t worried.

He was just tired.

Tired of the endless protection. Tired of the constant hovering. Tired of being told what he could or couldn’t do for the sake of his own safety.

Was he grateful? Yes. He would be a fool not to be. Ronan and Soren protected him, but they also force him to stay in the house.

It wasn’t Ronan’s fault—not really. Riven understood why everyone was being so careful. Why Ronan, in particular, couldn’t stand the thought of Riven stepping foot outside without a dozen guards. The trauma of losing someone made people overcorrect. But Riven was still alive. He was still here.

And he didn’t want to spend his second chance—this new, bizarre, transmigrated life—trapped like a caged bird.

He was supposed to live. That’s what he told himself when he first woke up in this world. That he’d do things differently. That he’d chase the things he wanted, no matter how reckless it seemed.

So if playing bait meant that he could finally stretch his legs, meant that he could run under the open sky, feel the wind again, and test the strength of his wolf, then yes.

He would do it.

"Why even take such a risk?" someone might ask.

Why walk straight into the line of fire? Why tempt fate again, especially after finally finding safety?

Because safety without freedom was just another kind of prison. And Riven had spent enough of his life behind invisible bars.

He turned back to Troy, who was still watching him as if he wasn’t quite sure what version of Riven he was dealing with.

"You’re sure about this?" Troy asked one more time, his voice softer now. Less like a soldier and more like someone who cared. "If something happens to you out there—"

"Then you better make sure nothing does," Riven interrupted, a spark of challenge in his voice.

Troy exhaled through his nose, then gave a sharp nod. "Alright. I’ll get everything ready."

Riven nodded and began to turn away, but then hesitated.

"You do have a plan, right?"

Troy blinked, then offered a crooked smile. "Working on it."

Riven rolled his eyes. "Great. I’m risking my life with someone who doesn’t even have a full plan yet."

"You said it yourself—you just have to exist."

Riven gave him a look. "And you said you’d be very careful."

That made Troy chuckle nervously. "Touché."

Riven chuckled to himself, a spark of mischief lighting up his expression. He was bored—restless in a way that had his legs twitching and his mind drifting into all sorts of ideas. Troy had gone off to plan whatever convoluted scheme he had in mind, and there was nothing left for Riven to do except wait. And Riven hated waiting.

So, naturally, he decided to bother someone.

And who better to bother than Ronan?

With a grin tugging at his lips, Riven made his way to the study. He didn’t bother to knock. Why should he? It was his partner’s study—and that made it his too. Right? Right.

He pushed open the door with zero hesitation and strolled in like he owned the place. His tail flicked once, satisfied, as he spotted Ronan at the desk, surrounded by papers and ink. Riven knew he looked smug. That was the whole point.

Ronan glanced up, cool and composed as always, eyes meeting Riven’s briefly before returning to the sea of documents on his desk. His tone was dry, calm, but not unkind as he asked, "Are you bored?"

Riven plopped himself down onto the wide sofa near the window, sprawled out like a lounging cat who’d found the warmest sunbeam. He propped his head on one hand, staring shamelessly.

"Yeah," Riven admitted easily. "But not anymore. I have a pretty view in front of me."