Becoming the Terminally-Ill Villain Who Torments His Disciples - Chapter 111.2
“It’s amazing… to think Ryan was ever this small.”
Cielo poked Ryan’s cheek with a look of pure adoration. Learning new things about Ryan—things he’d never known before—filled him with warmth. Their marriage wasn’t an endpoint, but a journey of discovering each other more deeply.
But Ryan’s thoughts were elsewhere entirely.
‘Did he… always want children this badly?’
His eyes flickered as he studied Cielo’s delighted expression. He’d known Cielo liked children, but not to this degree. He’d assumed Cielo had made peace with their inability to conceive—after all, whenever they saw Damon, Cielo would calmly say, “What heaven doesn’t give, mere humans can’t force.”
But now, watching Cielo fawn over his younger self, Ryan wondered: Is he imagining what our child might’ve looked like? The thought gnawed at him.
“…Hey, Cielo.”
Ryan took a bite of bread and glanced over. Cielo, who’d been too busy watching him eat to touch his own meal, blinked in surprise.
“Hm? What is it, Ryan? Is something bothering you?”
“No, it’s just…”
Ryan’s mouth opened, then closed. Any question he could ask would only dredge up wounds Cielo had tried to hide.
“…Never mind. Just… wanted another glass of milk.”
He swallowed his words.
This was just one day. A dreamlike moment that would vanish at sunset. For now, he wanted Cielo to stay happy, unburdened.
***
Mini-Ryan had become the clinic’s star attraction. Some came to reminisce about his childhood, while others gasped, “That’s the infamous Dobermann?!”
Ryan, however, glowered at anyone who approached, growling like a feral pup.
“It’s like seeing Oscar as a kid again…”
If this were a real child, Cielo would’ve scolded, “You can’t snarl at adults like that!”—but he bit his tongue.
‘He’d just get mad.’
Earlier, even a hint of being treated like a child had sparked a dramatic protest:
“Listen, Cielo. Inside this tiny body is a fully grown, extremely grumpy man.”
(The way his little lips pursed when he said it was so endearing that Cielo impulsively kissed his cheek.)
“I wish you could stay like this a bit longer…”
But night was falling, their time with tiny Ryan was almost over.
Lost in thought, Cielo slowed as he tidied the clinic—
“…Ah.”
A sharp pain stabbed his lower abdomen, just like this morning. He frowned, pressing a hand to his stomach.
Post-intimacy soreness wasn’t unusual, especially after nights with both Ryan and Oscar. But this lingered oddly.
‘We only did it twice in the bath and three times in bed… Not that excessive…’
Oscar’s stamina was another matter, but with Ryan alone, it shouldn’t—
“Strange…”
As he rubbed his belly, someone slipped behind him and buried their face in his neck.
Cielo startled—then melted as warmth enveloped him.
Ryan’s back to normal.
He leaned into the embrace, only to freeze at the voice that followed:
“Why are you touching your stomach? Does it hurt?”
Wide-eyed, Cielo turned—just as Oscar kissed both his cheeks.
“…Oscar?”
Why was he here already? He’d left for the palace less than a week ago, claiming this trip would take months.
Oscar smiled. “I got lonely. So I came back.”
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