A moment ago, the man who had been standing in front of Yasen had already gone inside. Just before leaving, his gaze briefly flicked to Banteon. Crimson eyes that burned like blood and golden hair that gleamed even beneath the shadows.
Rohan.
Even though he had seen him from a distance, it pierced his cornea as if viewed from up close.
As if Rohan had deliberately called out to him, Banteon, entranced by the vivid image, began walking toward the entrance. Despite the chaotic rush in his mind, his hand moved mechanically, groping inside the breast pocket of his suit jacket.
His fingers brushed against the recognition-disrupting earring he had brought just in case. He immediately pulled it out and shoved it into his ear. In the darkness and haste, he didn’t even notice the earring scraping his earlobe, securing it loosely in place.
The moment he entered Yasen, familiar ambient music tickled his ears, and he saw people mingling around. Spotlights dotted the dimly lit interior, and while others moved leisurely, Banteon’s head whipped around in a hurry.
Rohan wasn’t at the table they’d previously met at, nor did any of the visible seats hold a similar head of golden hair. Had he already gone into one of the private rooms?
A server who had been standing near the entrance cautiously approached Banteon.
“Where would you like to be guided? Are you looking for a specific guest?”
“The blond man who just came in. Where is he?”
“Blond… you say?”
It hadn’t even been a few minutes, but the server didn’t seem to remember anyone blond. Watching him hesitate with uncertainty, Banteon exhaled deeply.
“Never mind. Just—who went in just now?”
“Just now… Several guests entered, so I can’t say for certain. Most headed into the main hall. If you can provide the guest’s ID number, I can guide you.”
There was no way he would know something like that. He wasn’t even sure if Rohan was a legitimate member. Judging from everything so far, Rohan’s abilities aside, sneaking into a place like this while hiding his identity likely wasn’t difficult.
Banteon didn’t know what Rohan was thinking, crawling into the capital and showing up at Yasen of all places, but he couldn’t afford to let this chance slip away. He reached for his terminal to contact Tearot—then remembered he’d left it in the car.
A mess. It was already frustrating enough being dragged into Rohan’s inexplicable antics, but now he’d lost control of the situation. Should he leave and come back properly prepared? Banteon, still facing the direction of the main hall, shook his head.
That brief glimpse of Rohan from the car hadn’t been a coincidence. However he had done it, it was better to assume Rohan had planned this. At the very least, Rohan didn’t seem intent on harming him directly—he’d backed off after issuing a warning during their last encounter, after all.
“Guide me to the hall.”
If that was the case, confronting him head-on would be faster. Although people were enjoying themselves quietly, the building wasn’t exactly empty. It would be better for a commotion to break out in a place like this than in some remote corner. Yasen had plenty of Espers sneaking in to indulge themselves under masks.
The path to the hall was more vibrant than usual, filled with colorful characters. Unlike the previously subdued atmosphere, deep hues had given way to flamboyance. Hair colors were more varied, and while Banteon’s shining silver hair stood out, there were others who were even more eye-catching.
The festival had drawn many people—members who lived far away and rarely visited had come too. In the past, he might have scouted out a companion with a light heart, but now he walked past with cold, heavy steps.
It didn’t take long before Banteon spotted his target.
“Is something the matter, sir? Are you uncomfortable in any way?”
“That’s enough. I don’t need you anymore.”
Leaving the flustered server behind, he strode forward with firm steps. People he bumped into murmured complaints under their breath, but none of it reached Banteon’s ears.
His gaze locked on a tall man with glittering golden hair standing up ahead.
As Banteon approached, crimson eyes gleamed clearly beneath the man’s mask. Without a trace of surprise, the man leisurely raised a hand in greeting.
Of course, the recognition-disrupting earring proved utterly useless—Rohan had seen through him instantly.
“Been a while. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Rohan!”
Banteon’s voice cut through the music. Seeing Rohan greet him like a friend, casually raising his hand, made his blood boil.
“I gave you a warning last time just in case, but I was still worried you might’ve gotten hurt. That Esper beside you seemed strong, sure—but a bit of a brute, you know?”
Wearing that same easygoing smile, Rohan welcomed him with nonchalance. Banteon didn’t slow down, grabbing him by the collar.
“What the hell are you?”
“If you ask like that, it’s hard to answer. So what are you curious about? My tastes? My kinks? My measurements?”
He wanted to punch that smug, smooth face right then and there, but he held himself back. He knew touching him would only backfire. Instead, he clenched his fist and stepped back.
“Already pulling away? I’m hurt.”
“You’ve got some nerve. Did you forget where you are?”
There were countless people around them—many with a red aura shimmering faintly. Espers who wore masks and sought pleasure in secret filled this place. And most Espers residing in the capital were affiliated with the Royal Esper Center.
Not long ago, the news had exploded with reports of a monster horde descending on a city in the middle of a festival. If anyone found out the culprit was here, dozens would rush in immediately.
“Oh no, how scary. Feels like I might get caught any second now.”
Rohan’s voice showed not a shred of tension. Banteon needed to contact the Center right away. Even without his terminal, he still had a portable emergency device he could use to send a distress signal.
Just as Banteon reached to pull out the emergency device hidden as an accessory, an unfamiliar sensation pierced down his spine, stopping him in place. Without a doubt, this place was teeming with Espers. A crimson energy shimmered and rose between the beams of light.
Then, a subtle shift—one only Banteon could sense—began to seep in.
Why…? The auras of the Espers felt strange. The flowing energy resembled something trapped in a jar, swirling sluggishly in place, like time itself had slowed. It was as though someone were manipulating time, and reality itself began to lose its grip.
“Oh? You caught that?”
“Why… is everyone….”
Eyes wide in shock, Banteon looked around. Now that he thought about it, something was off. Even with a recognition-blocking device on, Banteon always drew attention no matter where he went. Rohan was even more conspicuous. Even if people couldn’t remember their hair or eye color, those striking features and physiques were impossible to ignore. Yet the two of them were standing face to face, conversing, and no one around was looking at them.
Everyone acted as if the two of them simply didn’t exist.
To confirm it, Banteon had to shift his body aside to avoid someone brushing right past him. The man who almost collided with him casually swirled the glass in his hand and chatted with his companion like nothing happened.
“Move to the side. Wouldn’t want to stain these expensive clothes.”
“What the hell is going on?”
“Wow, you really are shocked.”
Even if Rohan possessed some kind of ability to suppress his presence, completely masking Banteon without physical contact was impossible.
“Intelligence-type? No, this… this shouldn’t be possible.”
Until now, Banteon had assumed Rohan to be a high-level intelligence-type, given the way he manipulated monsters and blocked information through methods no one could imagine.
But this was on a whole different level. There was no ability in existence that could suppress the aura of every Esper in a space like this. This wasn’t impressive—it was categorically impossible.
“Intelligence-type? That’s a bit sad, reducing me to such a dull classification.”
Espers were academically categorized into physical-types and intelligence-types, with a minority falling under special-types. However, special-types almost never manifested alone, and it was extremely rare for them to be strong enough to affect other Espers. In most cases, special abilities were just auxiliary traits attached to physical-type Espers.
So then—what was this situation?
Noticing Banteon’s confusion, Rohan’s smirk deepened.
“I can pretty much guess what’s running through that head of yours. You’re desperately trying to figure out which category I fall into. Physical or intelligence, right? But hey, don’t lump me in with those useless, scrap-tier special-types.”
“……”
“Isn’t it hilarious? Nobody knows the origin of Espers, yet they boxed them up into neat little categories.”
The origin of Espers. First the Center Director, now Rohan—why were they spouting this nonsense? As Rohan said, no one truly knew where Espers came from. There was no scientific explanation for how naturally occurring Espers emerged or what made them different. But still, there was a reason the system divided them into two core types.
“Because throughout all of recorded history, only those two categories have ever appeared.”
“I doubt it. There were others—Espers that history deliberately ignored.”
“There’s no way something like that—”
Mid-sentence, a single line flashed through Banteon’s mind. No—he remembered now. It was a story from a royal record he once read. Four hundred years ago, there was a man who claimed to be a magician. He traveled the country, performing shows where he said he could understand animals and move people’s hearts.
People went wild for his acts. Lions stood on their heads, and random strangers followed his commands without question, earning him thunderous applause.
Eventually, he was invited to a royal event. In the middle of his grand performance, he turned one of his trained beasts against the royal family. Subdued by the Espers guarding the event, he was fatally wounded, and just before dying, he shouted his final words:
He was an Esper. Neither physical nor intelligence-type…
“…You’re a Psychic-type Esper?”
“Bingo.”
