Fine, do whatever you want.
He probably wouldn’t let go until he came to his senses anyway, so it was best to endure it for now. Just a little longer. Direct contact made it more efficient, after all. As Delroz’s hand slowly slid down Banteon’s spine with increasing intensity, a faint breath escaped his lips. He had to hang in there. It was still better than him going berserk and blowing up the entire Center.
That fragile line of resolve shattered the moment Delroz reached for his belt buckle.
“Are you insane? We’re outside!”
“……”
He pushed against the back of Delroz’s black-haired head. The man didn’t budge an inch, sending a chill down Banteon’s spine. Even if no one was around, this was still a library. A public facility used by everyone at the Center—surely, not here…
“……”
Delroz untucked Banteon’s shirt and traced his exposed abs with his lips, then slipped his tongue into his navel. The sudden move made Banteon gasp with a sharp moan.
“Please, just come to your senses. Okay?”
Now it was Banteon who felt like begging. He’d been prepared for contact to suppress the rampage, but not this. Causing a scene in the library—this was beyond anything he could have imagined.
With his reason gone, Delroz struggled with the buckle, fingers fumbling and tugging at the thick leather as it stretched like chewing gum. Banteon shut his eyes tightly. He really didn’t want to use this method.
He unfastened the epaulet on his jacket shoulder. Gripping the sharp edge, he pressed it firmly into the soft flesh on the inside of his forearm and dragged it across.
Pain tore through him, and blood began to seep in thin lines, trickling down toward his wrist. Before it hit the floor, he grabbed Delroz’s chin and roughly smeared the bleeding arm against his lips, forcing the blood into his mouth, then clenched his fist.
There were many ways to perform guiding. Merely staying close could have a mild effect, and the most common methods involved skin-to-skin or mucous membrane contact—usually hand-holding, kissing, or sex.
But there was another method discovered later: calming an Esper’s energy by consuming a Guide’s blood.
It was a primitive, savage method that wasn’t typically used directly. Instead, when dispatched to dangerous zones or places where Guides couldn’t accompany them, they’d use medication refined from a Guide’s blood.
Feeding someone blood directly was extremely effective, but for a Guide, it was an utterly unpleasant experience. The wound, the act itself…
“……”
Gradually, awareness returned to Delroz’s eyes. As he blinked, trying to gather his senses, Banteon swallowed the nausea clawing up his throat.
The Esper’s energy, having consumed the Guide’s blood, surged toward Banteon all at once. Crimson energy clustered around the wound. Like a swarm of piranhas drawn to the scent of blood, the energy rushed inside him relentlessly, tearing through his insides.
Feeding blood triggered violent side effects. It was even harder to control than mucous contact, and suppressants had little effect. It was a gamble, possible only because Delroz had regained a sliver of consciousness. Surely he wouldn’t keep going while someone lay collapsed.
“Ugh…”
“You’re… back to normal?”
“What the hell was that? Why’d you do that?”
His previously dazed eyes began to refocus. As Banteon’s body slackened in his arms, Delroz quickly caught his shoulder in alarm. His expression turned grim as he gripped Banteon’s bleeding wrist tightly.
Banteon pushed his face away with his palm.
“Just… get off me…”
His weakened legs trembled, spasming beneath him. Delroz hesitated, then leaned Banteon’s body against the bookshelf. The moment he let go, Banteon’s body slumped to the floor.
“Aftereffects of guiding?”
“Ugh…”
Taking stock of the situation, Delroz stepped back and angrily slammed the wall he had been leaning on. Despite restraining himself, shards of stone crumbled and fell to the floor.
“Can’t even let me get angry now.”
His words were rough, but the red aura flaring wildly around him began to fade. Realizing Banteon’s condition was his doing, Delroz struggled to rein it back in. Sweat rolled down his forehead as he fought to contain the rampaging power.
Banteon had no energy left to sympathize. He, too, was gasping for air, collapsed on the ground. It was a relief that they had avoided a full-scale rampage—but the aftermath was the real issue now. He wiped the sweat trickling down from his chin.
“Are you okay? Is it really that bad?”
“Calming down an Esper on the verge of a rampage—of course it’s hard. Just… give me a minute…”
Maybe it was thanks to the suppressant. His mind felt like it was teetering on the edge of blackout, barely tethered by a single thread.
Delroz opened a nearby window, letting a cold gust of wind flood in. The chill against his cheeks was bracing.
As Banteon blinked slowly, trying to hold onto consciousness that felt like it might cut out any moment, Delroz mumbled while watching him.
“…So this happened before too…”
“What?”
“It’s nothing.”
Vague, evasive. As if he started to say something and changed his mind.
There were so many things Banteon wanted to ask now that Delroz had come to his senses. Why the hell hadn’t the Center intervened before things got this bad? What was the new Guide like? He had a flood of questions—but the moment he opened his mouth, he felt like he’d only cry out in pain, so he bit it back.
Delroz, now fully lucid, closed his eyes tightly—then opened them slowly.
“I was planning to yell at you when I saw you. You ran off after sticking me with that kind of Guide—I was seriously going to lock you up this time.”
Even though he’d just said that being locked up was tolerable, Delroz seemed to have no memory of what he’d said in his delirium, grumbling viciously. Still, the red aura that had enveloped him had largely settled. Though rougher than usual, he no longer seemed on the brink of a rampage.
Hearing him mention the Guide reminded Banteon of the urgent reason he’d rushed to the Center.
“That Guide… Seira Rokless?”
“Now that you’ve saved my life, you’re planning to send me back to that woman again?”
Delroz’s lips curled into a crooked sneer. Banteon let out a sigh and shook his head at the bitter, twisted expression.
“This isn’t the time for jokes. The one at the Center—it’s not her. That’s not the real Seira Rokless.”
“What?”
“Where is she right now?”
He asked again and began to rise. Thanks to Delroz reining in his energy, Banteon’s condition hadn’t worsened, but his head was still spinning. He staggered, using the wall for support.
Delroz was the only witness and key to this entire mess. The moment the infiltration of the Center succeeded, trusting the Center Director or anyone else was out of the question. Banteon forced himself upright with a ragged breath.
“You need to rest.”
“After I catch her. I’ll rest after that.”
Maybe the brief pause had helped—his drained body was moving again, even if only slightly. Delroz had also regained his composure, so things wouldn’t get any worse, at least. The real concern was how long his shredded insides could hold out. Before his mind, held together by drugs, gave out completely, he had to take care of the most urgent tasks.
Each step was heavy. In the meantime, Delroz had put his gloves and jacket back on and was now supporting him. His face, filled with worry, met Banteon’s. He had just barely escaped a rampage himself, and yet he showed no sign of strain, eyes focused only on Banteon.
“You’d hate it if I carried you, right?”
“It’s not that I hate it—it’s that it’s dangerous. No matter how much you suppress your energy, extended contact would still affect me. Go ahead and catch her first—I’ll follow behind. Where is she?”
“She should be at the Guide dorms by now.”
To maximize efficiency, Delroz needed to go ahead. If she realized he’d recovered and tried to flee, it would be a hassle. Delroz nodded but looked reluctant, his gaze lingering on Banteon before he finally turned away. Though he should’ve hurried off to detain her, he didn’t take his eyes off Banteon until the very last moment, slowly retreating down the corridor.
“Hurry up.”
“……”
“Don’t kill her.”
Banteon warned him, just in case. Delroz clicked his tongue lightly and only then turned his back completely. Watching him disappear, Banteon reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a stimulant.
A suppressant and a stimulant—mixing them would give him hell later, but sacrifice was unavoidable for now.
The bitter powder spread across his tongue, and he swallowed the pill clinging to his palate. His hazy mind cleared at once.
Straightening his disheveled jacket, Banteon followed Delroz out.
His head was a wreck, but the drug-induced clarity was oddly refreshing. If they caught Seira Rokless, he’d finally understand the cause and culprit behind all this chaos. He forced his leaden steps forward, driven by the feeling that at last, they’d gotten hold of the tail.
***
Come to think of it, he hadn’t asked exactly where in the dorms she was staying. The Center was massive, home to many Guides, and the building itself was enormous.
He barely had time to scold himself for the uncharacteristically careless mistake when he found his destination.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Security! Please call security!”
A commotion broke out on one side of the expansive Guide dormitory. Crashes and shrieks erupted from that direction, and Banteon made his way toward the noise.
Delroz, who always seemed to drag chaos with him, was—unusually—actually being helpful this time. Then again, going up to someone calmly and asking who they were wasn’t his style. He was the type to grab someone by the collar first.
No one would just stand by while an Esper barged into a Guide’s private quarters in broad daylight, so of course there was an uproar.
His reflection appeared in the hallway’s glass wall as he walked. Even though he’d tried to tidy up a bit, he still looked disheveled, unlike his usual self. He instinctively raised a hand to his hair, then let it fall.
It was a look he’d rather not show anyone—but appearances like this were necessary sometimes.
Leaving his messy hair as it was, Banteon walked through the gathering crowd that had formed to gawk at the disturbance.
People startled at the sight of him, then slowly stepped back, their expressions turning wary as they tried to make sense of what they were seeing.
