Banteon’s glare didn’t faze Keslan in the slightest—his eyes shimmered with madness.
“It would’ve been nice if you’d taken the drug. Then instead of all this fuss, you’d be crying like a slut right about now.”
“You’re insane.”
“Ah, just the thought of it is so damn good.”
Keslan’s eyes glistened with ecstasy as he whispered to himself.
His mouth twisted into a wide smile, both corners of his lips stretching unnaturally. Despite having been caught red-handed, he was grinning as if he still held the upper hand. But he wasn’t the only one who could smile. Even with his movements bound, a faint smirk crept onto Banteon’s lips.
He’d felt a prick of conscience over abandoning a child for no other reason than a change of heart, but now there was no need to feel guilty.
Now that he knew what the drug Keslan brought was for, it was time to put an end to this farce. Banteon slowly raised his hand and gently stroked Keslan’s head. Incongruous with the situation, his hair still felt soft—curls bouncing lightly under his fingers.
“Teacher…?”
The sudden tenderness made Keslan’s venomous eyes widen with confusion again. He looked just like the sweet boy Banteon used to know. Yes. It was only right to end this on that familiar note.
Taking advantage of Keslan’s momentary lapse, Banteon clenched the hand that had been stroking his head into a tight fist. Then, without hesitation, he slammed it hard against his own chest.
With a muffled thud, a sharp cracking sound came from inside his inner pocket.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
Shocked by the unexpected act of self-harm, Keslan tried to stop him. He reached to cover Banteon’s clenched fist, but his movement began to slow.
“Huh?”
The body that had been so rigid and unyielding was now collapsing. His knees buckled, and as if he’d lost all strength, he sank to the floor, bracing himself with trembling hands.
“What… is this?”
Keslan murmured in disbelief.
No one knew better than Banteon the difference in power between a Guide and an Esper. He’d learned it the hard way, watching Delroz, who had stormed in unannounced, and even Tearot, whom he had trusted, suddenly turn on him. It was clear—he couldn’t rely solely on panic buttons or bodyguards.
He brushed off the shattered remnants of the magic stone hidden in his chest. A rare item from Esrante, the magic stone could neutralize an Esper’s abilities. It was a treasure far too precious to waste on someone like Keslan.
The magic stone fragments scattered on the floor sapped what little strength Keslan had left. His upper body collapsed completely.
“I enjoyed our time together. Shame it had to end like this.”
“Ha… haha… So that’s what that was…”
Finally realizing what had happened, Keslan let out a weak, hollow laugh. Banteon turned away from Keslan, who now lay face down and giggling like he’d lost his mind, and pulled out his terminal. He needed to request Keslan’s detainment and submit the drug he’d tried to use as evidence.
Banteon used his foot to shove Keslan’s body and flip him over. If there had been drugs involved, there had to be a vial somewhere. Bending down, he searched Keslan’s limp body, and just as expected, a small red bottle—half full—was tucked inside an inner pocket.
“T…Teacher…”
Keslan weakly reached out, grabbing hold of Banteon’s sleeve. Clicking his tongue in disgust at Keslan’s pathetic refusal to let go even now, Banteon forcefully jerked his arm to shake him off. Though the hand slipped away, Keslan didn’t give up. Mustering the last of his strength, he grabbed Banteon’s ankle.
Like a leech.
With a sigh, Banteon raised his foot, ready to kick him away—only for a sudden, forceful tug to yank his body off balance. The world flipped upside down. His shoulder and back hit the ground—and at the same moment, a cold liquid dripped onto his lips.
“Urgh…!”
He tried to shut his mouth, but it was too late. The mouth of the vial had already caught between his teeth. Keslan, in one final act of desperation, had forced the drug into Banteon’s mouth as he brought him down. Banteon lashed out with his foot, sending Keslan rolling weakly off of him.
“Hah… heh… ha ha… ha……”
Lying facedown, Keslan wheezed, laughing so hard his upper body trembled. Damn Esper. Even with the magic stone, an Esper was still an Esper. Banteon had let his guard down, confident in the stone’s power, and come too close. He’d heard it was potent enough to affect even S-Ranks—was Keslan’s obsession just that overwhelming?
He spat out what little liquid still lingered in his mouth, but the damage was done. He had already swallowed a good amount. The acrid sting that lingered in his throat made him gag. He tried to vomit, but the fluid had gone down clean—there was nothing left to bring up.
“…Ugh.”
He bent over, trying to throw up, but his legs gave out. They said it was a strong drug—and they weren’t kidding. The effects were fast. Slumping to the ground, he leaned back against the wall. His hands trembled as a burning sensation spread from the center of his chest. The feeling, all too familiar, swept through his entire body—an unquenched thirst, raw and desperate.
A primal urge clawed at his mind—he wanted to grab someone and ravage them on the spot. To feel soft flesh under his fingers, to tear it apart as he pleased. To grind into them until everything broke down into a mess.
He let out a dry laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. What the hell was he going to do in a state like this—he couldn’t even move a single step.
The words he’d just heard echoed in his head. If the drug wasn’t neutralized, it would leave him brain-dead. So Keslan would be detained, and he’d end up a drooling idiot. What a joke. He’d always figured someone would stab him in the back eventually, with the kind of people he’d dealt with, but he never imagined it would end like this.
Through his blurred vision, he spotted the terminal lying on the floor. Could he send out an emergency alert? If he contacted the Center, everyone would see Banteon like this—sprawled out, disgraced. His humiliation would become legend. The heir to a noble household, brought to ruin after toying with half-trained Espers.
It might even go down in the unofficial history books.
The absurdity of the whole situation made him laugh—he couldn’t stop. It was a future he’d rather die than live through, but… better that than becoming an actual vegetable.
Banteon raised his hand to press the call button. His trembling fingers gripped the terminal, and at the bottom of the screen, he saw the blue icon. It had always been grayed out—until recently, when it had become active.
It was the Match Partner Call Button.
“If you ever need help again, you’d better call me.”
Why was that voice coming back to him now? It had been a promise Delroz took from him, those piercing blue eyes blazing with determination.
“Don’t call some other Esper who’s desperate to get in your good graces. Call me. Even if it’s temporary—I’m still your Esper.”
Why did everything always get so tangled? It had been that way from the beginning. Nothing ever went the way he wanted. From the moment he met him, Banteon’s peaceful life had unraveled into a knot too thick to cut. Maybe he’d already stepped in too deep to pull himself out.
Without hesitation, Banteon pressed the blue button.
***
Thud— the wet squelch of something viscous shook him awake.
In front of him was a wall stained bright red. Below it, Keslan’s body writhed like a discarded rag soaked in blood, and behind him, a broad back seethed with violent crimson energy.
“…Ah.”
He parted his lips with effort, but only a breathy, strangled wheeze came out. Delroz, who had sensed even that faint sign, spun around and rushed to his side.
“You’re awake? Come on, let’s get you to a doctor.”
Before he passed out, it had been blurred vision that tormented him. Now, it was the searing heat coursing through his entire body. The massive hand that gently cradled his back and lifted him sent shivers down his skin.
Banteon reached out, gripping the hem of Delroz’s coat. There wasn’t a trace of strength in his fingers. Every time that large hand stroked him, full of worry, a dull ache flared in his lower abdomen. Delroz’s golden eyes twisted with pain at the sight of Banteon, too weak to even hold himself upright.
“I thought you’d do something reckless again, but… this, I never saw coming.”
He bit back a groan as Delroz scooped him up. The sensation of clothes rustling, the vibration of each step—it all overstimulated him.
“T-Take me… to the room.”
He couldn’t let a doctor see him like this. Not that a doctor could solve the problem anyway. At Banteon’s request, Delroz scowled in clear displeasure.
“Don’t say something so ridiculous. You expect me to leave you alone in this state?”
“Ngh…”
The sharp motion of Delroz pulling him closer wrung a sound from Banteon’s tightly clenched lips. That breathy, wet noise made Delroz pause—only then did Banteon’s condition fully register.
His flushed, unfocused eyes. The sheen of cold sweat coating his skin. Muscles that tensed up whenever touched. Fingers that trembled uncontrollably.
All unmistakable signs of intense sexual arousal. The moment he saw it, Delroz’s face twisted into a grimace. He immediately understood the nature of the drug Keslan had forced on Banteon.
“Fucking bastard.”
He growled low under his breath, pulling Banteon tightly against his chest so he wouldn’t have to look at his face. Curses aimed at Keslan poured from his lips like venom. Holding the unsteady man in his arms, Delroz ground his teeth and made for the room.
Fortunately, Banteon’s study and bedroom were located in a separate section at the end of the corridor. Avoiding the eyes of others, he moved quickly through the shadows. With his eyes squeezed shut, trying to steady Banteon’s trembling body, Delroz endured the weight of him—drenched in cold sweat.
Only when Banteon’s back hit the soft mattress did his heavy eyelids lift. Above him, Delroz’s face came into focus, peering down with worry.
His face was pale as a ghost, like he had taken the drug instead.
“Are you… in a lot of pain?”
“Ugh…”
So hot. His stomach burned as if a fire had been lit inside him. Now that he was in a familiar space, his willpower finally gave out. He tore at his jacket with shaking hands, trying to expose himself to the cool air. His trembling fingers slipped over the smooth buttons, fumbling again and again.
Delroz sighed and raked a hand through his hair at the sight of him struggling helplessly.
