MIGHT AS WELL BE OP - Chapter 668

Chapter 668: Boys’ Night-1

Hours blurred together as time marched forward without waiting for anyone. At this moment, Anthony, Dale, Spectre, Clement, Kingsley, and Reynold sat together in a dimly lit bar, the air filled with laughter, faint music, and the clinking of glasses. They drank together as though nothing else in the world mattered.

As promised, Dale had gathered the boys for a night out and, quite shockingly, he had paid for their drinks as he promised. That in itself was unusual, for Dale was never known to part with money unless absolutely necessary. His generosity tonight felt like a miracle in disguise, and the others silently made note of this rare occurrence.

The most surprising detail of the evening, however, was Clement’s presence. Everyone had assumed he would never show up. After all, Clement had always seemed like the type who preferred solitude over the chaos of camaraderie.

As always, his body was wrapped in layers of darkness and shadow, a shroud that obscured every part of him, making him seem like some ethereal being pulled straight from myth or nightmare. He lifted his glass slowly to his lips, the veil of shadow parting ever so slightly, just enough for his mouth to meet the rim of the glass. With each sip, a glimpse of humanity appeared, only to vanish a heartbeat later as the shadows closed in once more, concealing every trace of him.

When he withdrew the glass, the coiling darkness quickly reclaimed his lips, erasing that brief vision of normalcy.

Kingsley, Dale, and Reynold all looked at him in their own unique ways, thoughts spinning silently behind their eyes.

Finally, Dale could no longer restrain himself. He leaned forward and blurted out, “Hey, man, you know that if you take off all that darkness and shadow covering you, you’re not going to drop dead, right?” His tone was casual, almost teasing, but his curiosity was genuine.

Clement’s head shifted slightly, turning in Dale’s direction. But there was no face to meet his words. The darkness shrouded everything, eyes, nose, mouth, ears, down to the very outline of his figure. His body remained a silhouette, a formless shadow in human shape.

He offered no reply, no retort, not even a gesture that could be mistaken for humor. He simply turned toward Dale for a brief moment and then returned his gaze forward, as though nothing had been said at all.

Dale sighed and leaned back in his seat. He too possessed the element of darkness and shadow, but compared to Clement’s mastery, his own ability was shallow, almost like an imitation at best.

Kingsley, however, broke the silence. “Covering your body like that… does it give you some kind of boost? Any kind of enhancement?” His voice was calm, analytical, lacking the playful tone Dale had carried.

Unlike Dale, Reynold, or even Spectre, Kingsley’s eyes could see past Clement’s shroud. His Concept of Destruction had evolved, reaching a terrifying level. His gaze itself carried a force that broke down everything it touched. Darkness and shadow could not hide from him; they disintegrated under his sight as though erased from existence.

Clement merely nodded in reply, offering no words, as though speech was a currency he had long since abandoned.

“Forget the mute kid,” Dale said after a while, shaking his head. “He’s no fun at all. Let’s talk about something else.” His eyes wandered from Clement and eventually landed on Anthony. With a sly smile, he lifted his mug. “So, tell us about Vega. How far have things gone between you two? Come on, give us the details.” His tone was light, slightly slurred by alcohol, but his eyes gleamed with mischievous curiosity.

At the mention of Vega’s name, Anthony’s lips curved into a smile. “Things,” he said calmly, “are going perfectly.”

And with that, he fell silent.

The others exchanged glances, waiting for him to continue, but Anthony offered nothing more.

“What?” he asked finally, raising his brows at their eager stares.

“That’s it?” Spectre asked, his voice carrying disbelief. “Just perfect? No details? Nothing?” He had been looking forward to hearing more. After all, he had witnessed the way Anthony and Vega held one another, their eyes locked as though their bond was eternal, destined, and unbreakable.

Anthony leaned back. “What more were you expecting?”

“Details,” Dale insisted with a smirk. “Copious details. Especially… the night details.”

Anthony shook his head, the smile never leaving his face. “Why should I tell you that? Just open your phone. The internet is filled with all the porn you’re searching for.” His tone was calm, his refusal absolute. He had no intention of sharing even the smallest fragment of his private life.

“Wait, wait,” Spectre cut in, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “Don’t tell me there aren’t any night details.” He leaned closer, his gaze sharp, almost as if he could pierce Anthony’s very soul to uncover the truth.

Anthony chuckled softly. “There are indeed details. They just aren’t meant for your ears and eyes.”

In his previous life, he had been a thirty-year-old man who had lived lovelessly, a virgin trapped in monotony. But in this new life, that was no longer the case. He had found warmth, intimacy, and love. Still, he saw no reason to put any of that on display simply because his friends demanded it.

“Come on,” Dale pressed, refusing to let the subject die. “This is what boys’ night is about! We talk about everything, the good, the bad, the ladies, the women, nothing is off the table.” His voice rose slightly, earning nods of agreement from Kingsley and Reynold.

Clement and Spectre, however, stayed quiet, content to simply watch the exchange unfold.

Anthony sighed. “It isn’t. Don’t you people have anything else to talk about besides my private life?” He clicked his tongue, clearly unimpressed.

Kingsley leaned forward with a sigh of his own. “Sometimes, I forget that despite all the power you hold, despite the countless abilities you’ve gained… you’re still just a nineteen-year-old boy. You might still be a greenhorn when it comes to these things.”

Anthony shot him a look of surprise. Even Kingsley? He had expected Dale and Reynold to be relentless, but not him.

As if on cue, Dale and Reynold’s faces lit up as though a revelation had dawned upon them.

“True,” Dale said firmly. “He’s still a child in this matter. How could we have forgotten that?”

“As the elders here,” Reynold added in a sage-like voice, “it falls upon us to bestow wisdom, to grant you the knowledge and experience you so sorely lack.” He lifted his drink as though he were preaching universal truth.

Anthony stared at the three of them, speechless. His lips parted, but no words came.

‘If I really wanted experience, I could just buy it from the system shop,’ he thought dryly to himself. How in the world had their so-called boys’ night spiraled into this absurd discussion?