The once heated atmosphere had already cooled into silence. The faint buzz of alcohol that had subtly crept in had vanished as if chased away, and his mind snapped back to rational clarity like someone doused in cold water.
Banteon irritably tousled his hair and looked at Keslan, who was clinging to him. He had planned to enjoy tonight as their final moment together before parting ways, and now this disruption.
He dropped his gaze to Keslan’s hand gripping his jacket. Strangely, everything seemed to be pulling him away from Keslan, as if something were grabbing at his ankle, urging him not to go through with this.
“Sorry. The situation isn’t ideal.”
“This can’t be happening.”
“……”
“You’re not seriously going to leave like this, are you?”
The once delicate voice sank low. Keslan tightened his grip on the jacket and glared ahead, sharp eyes scanning the bodyguards in front of them as though assessing their combat potential. Sensing the tension, the guards who had lowered their hands cautiously raised them again in a defensive posture.
“Keslan?”
“Ah…”
At the firm voice, Keslan snapped out of it, his eyes quickly returning to their usual softness. With an innocent curve of his eyes, he forced a sheepish smile, as if the sudden change had never happened.
“I guess I got a little sensitive after hearing about the escape. I’m sorry.”
Realizing how on edge he’d been, he bit down on his lip. Lately, he’d been showing sides of himself that Banteon hadn’t expected—starting with spreading rumors on purpose, to these hypersensitive reactions. Banteon narrowed his eyes, a primal sense of unease creeping in.
“I-I’ll just stay here and go in later. You go ahead first.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I already booked a room, after all.”
He instinctively reached out and patted Keslan’s pale, lowered head. The gesture was habitual. But still, Banteon couldn’t shake the image of the man from earlier, the one who looked ready to attack the security team. Was that just a mistake? Or something else?
“I’m heading back.”
He walked between the rows of sharply positioned guards standing at attention. With every step Banteon took, the rhythmic sound of their boots echoed behind him in perfect sync. Now, all he could do was return to the Center and wait for Delroz to be recaptured and confined in solitary once more.
The thought brought a soft sigh to his lips.
Even thinking about it again, Delroz was nothing but trouble. He boarded the sleek black limousine waiting in front of the hotel. It was a larger and more luxurious car than the one Keslan had prepared with such meticulous care.
Equipped with a newly developed, not-yet-commercialized motor, the limousine moved with such smoothness that it was hard to feel it even in motion. Gazing out the window, Banteon closed his eyes, a dull ache throbbing in his head.
***
A rare sight—security forces, usually absent from the Center, now swept across the corridors. Their dark uniforms and oppressive presence made the atmosphere tense, but no one dared peek out.
The weight of the incident—an inmate escaping from solitary—hung heavy over the entire Center. Officially, Delroz had been placed in solitary confinement as a disciplinary measure for training, but for someone as volatile and uncontrollable as him, any sudden action was enough to set everyone on edge.
‘What a damn hassle.’
Through a corridor window, Banteon could see the flashing red warning lights spinning violently. The alarm echoed like a distant siren, faint yet persistent. With the situation like this, there was no chance of getting a proper night’s sleep even after reaching his room.
As he approached his door, unlike the others, several Center security agents were stationed directly outside his room.
“You’ve returned, sir.”
“What’s the situation?”
“Still unchanged. Delroz’s whereabouts remain unknown. The Center intends to assign agents around your room, Banteon, for your protection as the temporary Guide.”
“Hm…”
So things were still unresolved. The search for the missing Delroz was continuing in full force.
“I’ll go inside then.”
“Of course. Please rest well.”
Leaving the guards coordinating their sectors behind, he entered the room. The atmosphere felt slightly different from when he’d left. It wasn’t just the red emergency lights outside staining the walls.
If Delroz had escaped, Banteon would have been the most likely person he’d seek out. They must have already searched his room. Normally, he would’ve been furious at the intrusion into his private quarters, but this was an emergency.
By the Center Director’s authority, if a crisis was declared, even the private spaces of Center personnel could be entered and searched without permission.
Of course, that rule didn’t apply to Banteon. And the proof was clear: his device, sitting on the desk, was overflowing with red alerts. It was obvious they hadn’t been able to enter his room at will after Delroz vanished, so they’d tried contacting him obsessively instead.
When those attempts failed, they must have forcibly initiated the search.
Since the date had been a personal engagement, Banteon hadn’t brought his device along either—his own oversight. But still, he couldn’t help directing a bit more resentment toward the one who’d caused this whole mess.
‘Where the hell did he go?’
He had been quietly staying in his cell. What the hell had gotten into him to cause trouble now, of all times?
Regardless of the chaos outside, Banteon stripped off his clothes that clung too tightly to his body and stepped into the shower. The fact that the room had already been searched also meant, in other words, that it had been declared safe.
Dressed comfortably in a robe, Banteon stepped out while toweling off his still-damp hair. The kettle he had set before entering the bathroom was now piping hot, steam curling upward. He took out a pre-warmed cup and set it on the table.
A fragrant tea flowed smoothly down his throat. On any other day, he would’ve let his loosened body sink into the plush bed and drifted off to sleep—but tonight, that was far from possible.
Outside the wide window, glaring lights flashed incessantly. They’d probably keep blinking like that until Delroz was found. Honestly, it wasn’t helping at all.
Banteon walked unhurriedly to the window. The thick curtains would shield some of the glare. He grabbed both the sheer inner curtain and the heavy outer one in a single motion and gave them a tug. But the fabric resisted, stretched taut as if caught on something.
“…What the hell?”
“Long time no see.”
He tilted his head at the uncooperative curtain—then noticed the massive shadow beyond the window frame. The figure who appeared made Banteon bite down on the curse that nearly escaped his lips. The root of all tonight’s chaos sat there leisurely, perched atop the narrow frame.
There was no way the thin ledge could hold that hulking body, so he was likely using telekinesis to brace himself against the wall.
Banteon stared at Delroz in stunned silence. His appearance was nothing short of ridiculous. His hair was a wild mess, unkempt after days in solitary. The drab gray prison uniform hung open—he’d apparently lost most of the buttons along the way. On anyone else, he would’ve looked like a homeless man, but that massive frame made him seem more like someone out for a casual stroll.
How had they failed to catch someone this conspicuous for so long?
“What’s with all the ruckus?”
“Louder than I expected, yeah.”
He spoke leisurely, but it didn’t seem like an empty remark—his brow twitched subtly with each blaring siren. Surely he hadn’t escaped solitary without anticipating this level of chaos… Then again, with Delroz, it wouldn’t be a stretch.
The pounding in Banteon’s head grew worse, and he pressed his fingers to his temple.
“If you’d just stayed put, you would’ve been out in a few days.”
“That was the plan. Originally.”
Solitary confinement was one of the harsher punishments the Center imposed. It wasn’t somewhere you could stroll in and out of at will. Escaping like this in such a spectacle would, by standard protocol, double the sentence and bring additional disciplinary action.
Yet the man himself spoke with calm detachment, as if it had nothing to do with him. Where was he even supposed to start scolding him? Banteon rubbed his temples again and shook his head.
“You’re asking to come in?”
“At least I’m asking this time.”
Last time, he’d barged in unannounced. Compared to that, this was a significant improvement—though it wasn’t exactly something to be happy about. The way he’d shown up was still completely outrageous.
Security personnel were posted outside the door. While the Center took special care to soundproof rooms due to the number of Espers residing here, any loud noise would bring them rushing in. Banteon debated his options, eyes locking onto the piercing gaze of Delroz.
If Delroz truly refused to go back… was there anyone who could force him into solitary again? Not the Espers standing guard outside—no, not even the entire Center combined.
The only reason they’d succeeded before was because of an unexpected emergency alarm that caught him off guard. But now that he’d taken the initiative to sneak in, brute force wouldn’t work. The only way was to talk him down.
Banteon sighed.
“Come in.”
As if he’d been waiting for that exact moment, Delroz’s massive frame slipped smoothly into the room.
At least he was barefoot, likely having come straight from solitary. If he’d tracked in dirt onto the clean carpet, Banteon would’ve been livid. A small consolation, perhaps—but even that brought a bitter taste, realizing what his standards of relief had come to.
As Delroz stepped through the window, Banteon noticed the snapped handcuffs still dangling from one wrist, split clean in two.
“So the cuffs didn’t hold, huh?”
“You really think something like that would’ve kept me still?”
As the security forces had feared, the restraints were useless against an SS-rank. He’d have to report that to the higher-ups when the chance came.
Banteon’s eyes scanned him from head to toe.
“What the hell were you thinking, breaking out like this?”
“You seriously have to ask?”
Delroz growled low in his throat. His once-calm demeanor cracked, and his eyes flashed with a sharp blue light. Well, of course. If he was willing to walk out of solitary with just a few days left, there was no way he was in a stable state.
I can’t tell if Banteon is just dense or numb to everything…..