Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 169

Chapter 169: ’Blurry Face’

"So... you’re saying that whoever the traitor is... is deliberately targeting His Highness?"

Lucius’s voice rang with disbelief, his sharp golden eyes widening as he turned to Heinz. His grip tightened slightly at his sides, tension rolling off him like a drawn bowstring.

Heinz remained impassive, his expression unreadable, as steady as ever. The contrast between them was striking—where Lucius bristled with alarm, Heinz was a fortress of calm.

Since Florian was feeling significantly better—save for the lingering ache in his limbs—Heinz had given him a firm order to get up. There was no time to waste. They were going to confront the servant who had laced his drink with an aphrodisiac.

"Yes," Heinz confirmed, his voice as smooth as a blade slipping into its sheath. "That is why I wanted to speak with Florian alone first. To make sense of why."

It was an obvious lie.

Well... only Florian knew it was an obvious lie.

Before they left, Heinz pulled Florian aside, his fingers barely brushing his sleeve—a subtle gesture, but enough to make it clear this was not a conversation meant for prying ears. His gaze, sharp and cool as polished steel, remained unreadable.

"We have to tell Lucius and Lancelot that you’re a target," he said, his voice firm, edged with something Florian couldn’t quite place. "However, we’re going to act as though we don’t know why."

Florian studied him, tilting his head slightly. The logic made sense—neither Lucius nor Lancelot had the full picture. They didn’t know the truth about Heinz. They didn’t know he was a regressor. But something about it didn’t sit right.

A question itched at the back of his mind, one he couldn’t ignore.

"First of all, Your Majesty..." He held Heinz’s gaze, searching for cracks in that impenetrable mask. "Why am I being targeted? Do you have some sort of idea?"

Heinz flicked his golden eyes toward him, unreadable as ever. A heartbeat of silence passed, thick with something unspoken.

"The reason I thought of is... quite the worst-case scenario," he admitted, his voice dropping slightly. "But I believe there’s a chance that whoever killed me—whoever is after you—is also like me."

Florian stiffened.

"Like you?"

A shadow crossed Heinz’s expression, something dark and unsettling lurking beneath the surface. His usual composure remained intact, but his golden gaze seemed to darken, as if dragged down by a thought too heavy to ignore.

"They probably have memories of the first life," he said at last.

A shiver traced down Florian’s spine.

’Heinz is really smart,’ he thought, a knot of unease twisting in his stomach. ’I never would have guessed that there might be two regressors. But if God helped Heinz regress... why would He also help Heinz’s killer?’

A chilling thought settled in his chest.

’If that’s the case... it makes sense that I’m the target. I suddenly changed. And I’m the only one Heinz fully trusts. If Heinz’s killer really is another regressor, then they’re smart enough to see that.’

The weight of the situation pressed down on him like iron shackles.

Florian had thought he was safe now, that he had avoided execution. But instead, he had simply stepped into another trap—this time, one even more dangerous.

One that was leading him straight to his death.

It was death flag after death flag.

"But this doesn’t make sense, Your Majesty," Lancelot spoke up, his brows furrowed. "What do the rogues attacking nobles have to do with Prince Florian? Their actions are inconsistent. First, they were kidnapping people, then they started attacking random nobles and robbing them... and now they’ve tried to lace His Highness’s drink with an aphrodisiac? For what purpose?"

Lancelot was always sharp. Even in the novel, despite being a knight, he had the instincts of a detective. He wasn’t just strong—he was also intelligent.

"I have the same amount of knowledge as you, Lancelot," Heinz admitted. "That is why we need to investigate further—especially the strange noble Florian spoke to. We still have no idea how he got in and out of the ballroom."

He turned to Florian. "Speaking of which, do you remember what he looked like?"

"Oh, yes... he, uh..."

’Why don’t I remember?’

’Fuck. Fuck. Why can’t I remember?!’

"I—I... can’t remember," he admitted, his voice shaky. He had seen the man’s face. He had remembered it yesterday. He was sure of it. And yet...

"Obscura Noctis," Heinz finished, his voice edged with certainty, cutting through the tension like a blade.