The Royal Esper Center was thrown into chaos by an unprecedented incident. Someone had infiltrated the Center under a false identity—posing as a member of a prestigious noble family—without triggering a single alarm, and had injected a suspicious substance into an SS-Rank Esper right under everyone’s noses. The once-impenetrable security system of the Center had been breached as easily as thin rice paper.
The Center Director took a public stance, declaring that a thorough investigation would be conducted.
Every key member of the Center was pulled in and forced to work through the nights, launching an intensive background probe. During that time, the Center Director, his face now noticeably aged, made repeated visits to Banteon’s study. Normally, he would summon Banteon to his own office, but now he was the one rushing over—it showed just how urgent the situation had become.
The impersonator turned out to be the illegitimate child of a dying noble line in the outer provinces. The full investigation was still underway, but according to her incoherent ramblings, she had agreed to the plan because someone had promised her a match with an SS-Rank Esper. With that, she believed she could revive her fallen house.
She repeatedly referred to the person who provided her with the false identity as “That One,” demonstrating a blind faith as if she were speaking of a supreme being. As the Center Director had promised, the impersonator was subjected to strict interrogation. For days, she kept mumbling absurd and delusional things—until, finally, she lost his mind entirely.
The person who had targeted Banteon turned out to be a staff member of the Center’s research lab. Claiming he had acted alone out of a desire to study an SS-Rank Esper, he confessed to manipulating the monitoring equipment until it read just below critical levels. He also admitted to forging the impersonator’s credentials to smuggle her into the Center.
On top of that, he confessed to orchestrating Delroz’s first rampage.
It was a bombshell that could’ve shaken the world—but, unfortunately, no one believed him. Everyone was convinced that a much larger force had to be behind him.
And it wasn’t just the Center that had been upended.
Shops distributing Madam Ressot’s drugs—five branches in total, mainly around Yasen—were shut down and placed under a full investigation. From the managerial level down to the sponsoring noble houses, everything was torn apart. Yet, no one could uncover a single document or record relating to Madam Ressot.
Everything was back to square one. The only remaining clue was the identity of the attendant who had entered the Center alongside the impersonator.
This attendant, who had come in with the fake Seira, had gone missing on the day of the incident. Although a warrant had been issued, all witnesses gave conflicting descriptions of his appearance, making him nearly impossible to track down.
Others were still trying to figure out who that attendant might be, but Banteon knew the moment he heard it. It was Rohan. He must have snuck into the Center by sticking close to the impersonator.
‘And once again, I’m the only one who knows.’
For the sheer scale of the incident, the results were underwhelming. Just when he thought he’d caught hold of the tail, all he had in his hand were some scattered feathers.
He leaned back on the soft bed. After a week of rest, his body was gradually returning to normal.
As he reached for a cup of warm tea, the device on the table lit up with a chime. It was the sound that indicated an external call to the Center. Sitting upright, he pressed the button to answer. A familiar voice greeted him from the other side.
[Hyung. Finally got through. I heard you saved the Center this time? Word is, you’re a hero now?]
“…When you call someone, you’re supposed to start with a greeting and ask how they’re doing before you get to the point, little brother.”
[Oh, come on. It’s us. Why bother with formalities? Want me to do it now? What an honor it is to speak with you, o mighty hero. Please, grace this humble soul with your divine attention.]
They were born from the same womb and raised in the same environment—so why were they so different? Banteon sometimes wondered if it was his fault for not keeping a closer eye on his younger brother, but then again, he didn’t feel responsible for how a sibling just four years younger had grown up.
“So, what’s so important that a busy man like you decided to call?”
[Oh, please. Like I’m busier than the guardian of the Royal Esper Center.]
“Enough with the jokes.”
[Hahaha. No, seriously—just checking in. There’s been all that mess in the capital, right? You okay?]
The hint of concern buried in the playful tone made Banteon smile faintly. They barely saw each other once every few years, yet his brother had still managed to do something as thoughtful as call to check in. Blood was blood, after all.
“I’m fine. Just one of those things that get better with rest.”
[Still, take it easy, alright? You know. For Mom and Dad’s sake, don’t overdo it. One wrong move, and you’re gone, you know?]
“Was that supposed to be concern? Or a curse?”
[Of course it’s concern! You know me. I never really learned how to say things nicely.]
With a sigh, Banteon pinched the bridge of his nose at his brother’s glib response.
“Baiheron Esrante.”
[Yeah?]
“How many times do I have to tell you—we were raised in the same house, with the same education? We had those communication lessons drilled into us from birth.”
[Hahaha… Did we? It’s been so long, I don’t remember. Must’ve been too young when I learned it. Who remembers stuff from twenty years ago, anyway?]
It wasn’t that he didn’t remember—he’d just blatantly ignored every lesson he was given. If their old governess, Madam Cherin, ever found out, she’d probably faint on the spot. She was getting up there in years, so it was better not to add more to her plate.
[From the sound of your voice, I guess I didn’t have to worry. There’s been so much shocking news lately, I swear my heart’s about to give out.]
“You? You don’t care about anything except your own Guide. Still, thanks for at least pretending.”
[Oh please, it’s nothing like the way I care about my Guide. If anything ever happened to her during a Guiding session, I’d already be six feet under, man.]
“You wouldn’t die even if you hanged yourself.”
[Figure of speech! Anyway—how’s your Esper? Must be rough, huh?]
Delroz’s condition. Come to think of it, he hadn’t looked fine when he first opened his eyes. His complexion was pale, and there were dark circles under his eyes—it was clear he hadn’t been sleeping properly. Still, fresh out of a rampage, Delroz should have needed rest, but he’d insisted on staying by Banteon’s side.
Even after returning to the room, nothing had changed. Banteon had told him to come find him if he felt uneasy—just a throwaway line—but Delroz had taken it seriously, practically clocking in every day. He didn’t do anything special—just leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, or quietly watched over Banteon.
And yet, he didn’t seem bored in the slightest. He had been there for days straight.
By standard protocol, Delroz should have been placed in isolation, as he hadn’t fully recovered from the aftereffects of his rampage. Being near Banteon while his energy remained unstable would inevitably affect both of them—possibly slowing Banteon’s recovery—which was why the medical staff had advised against it.
But Delroz had stubbornly remained by Banteon’s side, downing handfuls of Suppressants to do so. Unlike a Guide with low Guiding efficiency, an Esper who took medication reportedly felt as if one ear and one eye had been blocked—an unpleasant, suffocating sensation. Even so, Delroz lingered at his side with a serene expression, spending the entire day there before slipping away again.
In the end, Banteon had let him do as he pleased, exasperated by his persistence. He figured Delroz would give up once he got tired. That was already a week ago. Given how little Delroz spoke to begin with, he was surprisingly low-maintenance—and occasionally quite handy to order around.
By now, he’d reached the point where he treated him like a decorative statue stuck to his side, using him to run errands.
[He’s not with you right now?]
“He stepped out to grab a snack.”
[Wow, sounds like a proper attendant. He’s with you all day, isn’t he?]
“He leaves for a bit when it’s time to sleep. But honestly, it’s starting to get a bit tiring. He doesn’t do anything—just sits there watching me.”
[Oho~ Well, it’s that phase where just looking at someone feels good. Your Esper sure is straightforward.]
“It’s not like that.”
Baiheron had never seen Delroz in person, which explained his reaction. If Delroz had been looking at Banteon with some lovesick gleam in his eye—even if that alone would have been unpleasant—Banteon would’ve kicked him out on the spot.
But Delroz didn’t look at him like that. His gaze was calm, more akin to someone quietly observing a work of art. It wasn’t the “he’s so into you he might combust” look that his brother was implying. If anything, it felt more like he was watching a snowman that could melt at any moment.
[He always sounded like death warmed over every time I called, you know. Be nice to him.]
“…Why would you be calling Delroz?”
[You didn’t know? Every time I tried to call you, he answered. Told me you were resting. Said you were too tired to talk. We chatted a few times. What—he never passed the messages on?]
“That never… happened.”
[No way. You think I’d go a whole week without calling my own brother? I called. Every single day.]
At Banteon’s words, Baiheron raised his voice in protest, clearly frustrated.
Even accounting for the three days he was unconscious, it had already been a full week since Banteon returned to his room to recuperate. He had briefly wondered why his one and only blood relative hadn’t reached out—it had seemed a bit too late, even for someone as aloof as Baiheron.
If Delroz had deliberately kept those calls from him, it wasn’t a pleasant realization.
While he’d been sick, Banteon hadn’t checked his terminal much. With Delroz constantly at his side, it would’ve been easy for him to handle it without notice.
[Hyung? Can you still hear me?]
“I hear you just fine.”
[Whew. You weren’t answering, so I thought you passed out or something.]
“I’m alright, so don’t worry. Baiheron, something urgent came up. Let’s talk later.”
He ended the call, ignoring the murmurs from the other end of the line.
The cold clarity of realization struck him like a splash of ice water.
He had momentarily forgotten—lulled by Delroz’s quiet obedience—that the man was still far from harmless.
