The Retired CEO's Guide To Being Spoiled Chapter 365: The Sync Index

He began to think, his mind caught in a delirious stream of consciousness, as though he were on the verge of grasping sothing elusive.

If B-00 had always rembered him, had always preserved his habits with such flawless perfection... Then, had he himself ever rembered? How deeply intertwined had he once been with that existence?

That thought sprouted like a venomous seedling in Julian’s mind, its insidious roots latching onto every neuron. He felt utterly conflicted, a dull, agonizing discomfort clawing at his chest.

Everything he had ever believed about his own mories was now steadily crumbling into shattered fragnts. The recurring mories of a frail Julian suffering in the Sterling household, or his calculated maneuvers on the battlefield of comrce, might be an artificial facade masking a terrifying truth.

Suddenly, a fleeting fragnt of mory, as hazy as winter fog, flashed across his brain. There was no specific context, nor were there any clear colors. There was only the haunting image of a tiny, emaciated hand reaching out into the darkness, accompanied by the clear voice of a child ringing out with profound longing: "Jules."

Julian imdiately squeezed his eyes shut, his hands flying up to clutch his head. It wasn’t a violent, splitting pain, but rather a lingering ache, like soone prying at a rusted lock buried deep in his mind.

That mory seed to have always existed there, tightly sealed away by so obscure chanism of Project Eden, rely lying in wait for a spark to ignite an uncontrollable blaze.

The overwhelming helplessness of being unable to grasp his true self, coupled with his turbulent consciousness, left Julian feeling as though the breath had been knocked from his lungs.

Losing his center of gravity, he slid from the edge of the mattress, slumping onto the cold carpet. With both hands still clutching his head, he panted heavily in the midst of a suffocating solitude.

When Ethan Caldwell returned to the bedroom after a security sweep that had yielded no optimistic results, he caught sight of Julian curled into a tight ball on the floor, his frail back trembling beneath the ambient lighting.

The atmosphere in the room was heavy with exhaustion and underlying anxiety. Ethan didn’t rush to interrogate him. Instead, he strode forward in silence, reaching out to pull Julian up from the floor. He enveloped the trembling youth in his embrace, sharing his warmth, before effortlessly scooping Julian up and laying him gently on the bed.

Both of them were drained, their nerves stretched to the breaking point by a relentless chain of events.

Ethan lay down beside him, his strong arms pulling Julian close so he could nestle against the solid expanse of his chest. The comforting warmth radiating from the older man seed to dispel a fraction of the biting cold besieging Julian’s mind. In that mont, a crushing sense of disorientation washed over Julian. He didn’t know who he was or what his existence ant in this ruthless chess ga.

He desperately needed sothing real, sothing potent enough to anchor him to reality and prevent him from being swept away by the destructive vortex of fabricated mories.

Slowly lifting his head, Julian fluttered his eyes shut and sought the familiar comfort of Ethan’s lips. There was none of the frantic frenzy that had driven him in the past; rather, this kiss comnced at an excruciatingly slow pace, brimming with unparalleled gentleness. His soft lips brushed lightly against the older man’s mouth, conveying a nervous tremble, a tentative probing, and a desperate yearning to be consoled.

Ethan paused, stiffening for a fraction of a second, but almost imdiately allowed his eyes to fall shut, reciprocating the kiss with deep reverence. He was in no rush to deepen the kiss or claim territory, choosing instead to step back and allow Julian the freedom to dictate the pace of their intimacy.

Julian parted his lips ever so slightly, extending the tip of his tongue to tenderly entwine with Ethan’s. He greedily absorbed the comforting heat, pressing his slender body tightly against Ethan’s sturdy fra to feel the strong, steady rhythm of his heart. The distinctly masculine breath, seamlessly intertwined with the familiar scent of cedarwood, gradually caused Julian’s overextended nerves to unwind. All the crippling doubts regarding the world around him were, for the ti being, pushed into the background.

He hungered for far more than a kiss; he desperately desired a tangible confirmation of his own existence. Julian’s hand slid stealthily beneath the hem of Ethan’s shirt, trailing down the firm expanse of his abdominal muscles, vividly feeling every warm fiber twitch beneath his fingertips.

Ethan accommodated the eager movents, his large hand sliding at a leisurely pace along Julian’s bare back, deftly shedding the cumberso layers of clothing between them until their flushed skin t in uninterrupted contact.

The kiss evolved, becoming increasingly wet and impassioned, conveying the profound blending of two weary souls searching for peace. Both sank wholeheartedly into the affectionate touches, utilizing the purest form of intimacy to nd the jagged fissures in their souls.

There were no punishing thrusts or elents of coercive gas; there was only the boundless presence of tender caresses, the desperate intertwining of fingers gripped so tightly their knuckles turned white, and the heavy sounds of their panting breaths rging into one.

When Ethan finally made his slow entrance, Julian let out a soft, stifled whimper, wrapping his arms securely around Ethan’s neck and biting down lightly on the older man’s shoulder.

He needed this overwhelming sensation of being filled, desperately needing the undeniable presence of Ethan grounded within him to reassure himself that this was not rely an illusion, and certainly not the cold environnt of a sterile laboratory.

Driven by the unhurried, breathtakingly deep rhythm of their movents, Julian pressed his lips intimately against the shell of Ethan’s ear. His voice, choked with raw emotion, sounded incredibly genuine as he whispered into the quiet night, "At least when I’m here beside you... I know I truly exist."

Ethan tightened his protective embrace, his chest vibrating with a sudden pang of heartache. He pressed a lingering kiss against the youth’s damp temple, forsaking empty words. Instead, he relied on his gentlest actions to affirm his presence, allowing himself to sink entirely alongside Julian into a soothing vortex of comfort.

Deep in the silent expanse of the late night, shortly after Julian had drifted into an exhausted slumber cradled safely in Ethan’s arms, the subtle chi of an encrypted notification emanated from the older man’s phone.

Ethan delicately withdrew the arm Julian was using as a pillow, moving in painstakingly careful incrents so as not to wake him, before stretching slightly to retrieve the device. The glowing screen displayed an urgent, encrypted data file just transmitted by Helen Lloyd.

Their intelligence team had spent grueling hours digging into the fragnted files hidden within the remnants of the encrypted server, and at long last, they had unearthed a crucial docunt pertaining to the internal operations of Project Eden.

Ethan drew his brows together, his sharp eyes skimming rapidly over the densely packed text and complex analytical charts. The classified docunt was not a roster of assassins or a blueprint for a plot as he had anticipated; rather, it was a top-secret scientific report detailing an obscure phenonon known strictly as the "Sync Index."

According to Helen Lloyd’s compiled data, Project Eden had orchestrated a large-scale experint to isolate biological subjects possessing the rare capability of flawless brainwave resonance. Nestled discreetly within a chilling list of hundreds of numbered subjects, the designations A-01 and B-00 stood out conspicuously, boasting a uniquely high synchronization rate that bordered on absolute perfection, a rarity in the grim history of the project’s research.

These docunts also revealed a startling truth: B-00 was never created to be a ruthless hunter or a cold-blooded antagonist destined to eradicate A-01. Instead, the Central Organization of Ruling Elites had harbored a terrifying ambition to rge the two individuals. Their ultimate goal was to transform them into an unparalleled biological weapon—a singular entity with vastly superior cognitive awareness.

However, this classified integration project was suspended indefinitely amidst the research team’s chaotic panic.

The reason for the abrupt halt was outlined in glaring red letters within an urgent mo from the chief researcher: "When the subjects co into direct physical or psychological contact, their synchronization surges beyond the permissible threshold, leading to a highly volatile, destructive brainwave resonance. The subjects imdiately establish a spontaneous self-connection, instinctively forming an impenetrable shield of shared consciousness and exchanging their deepest mories. This entirely strips control from the central system’s command directives. The risk of total self-destruction is classified at Red Level."

Ethan Caldwell tightened his grip on his phone, the sharp sound of his knuckles cracking echoing in the stillness. His gaze darkened into a dangerous abyss. If these files were true, B-00 was far from a rciless enemy intent solely on claiming Julian’s life. The connection between them was infinitely more complex and profound, an instinctual, symbiotic bond exceeding anyone’s imagination. The entity had not co to slaughter; it had likely co to reclaim its perfectly synchronized missing piece.