It wasn’t exactly welcome to be covering someone else’s class on a day off, but knowing the state of the Center, Banteon gave a nod.
Normally, with no Esper under his charge, Banteon would’ve been the top pick for Subjugation Squad dispatches. But thanks to his prestigious family background, no one ever dared to ask him to volunteer or tag along. So far, he’d been able to ignore the squads being formed, but this time, the Subjugation Squad seemed massive—so much so that they were drafting every available hand.
Considering he got to sleep soundly at the Center, stretching both legs in comfort under the unofficial protection of his family’s influence, this kind of cooperation was the least he could do.
“Understood. Please send over the class materials.”
“I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want to impose, but my father’s ill and I have to go back to my hometown.”
“If that’s the case, then it can’t be helped. Don’t worry too much.”
Banteon answered kindly, putting on his usual outward smile. Instructor Sodel visibly relaxed and let out a small sigh of relief.
“Thank you so much! Ah, the class is temporarily being held in Building F. The original room in Building C is still under restoration.”
“Ah.”
“So the class starts at 3. I’ll leave it in your hands.”
Before Banteon could respond, Sodel rushed off. If it was a family issue, it made sense for her to be flustered.
As he walked in the opposite direction from where Sodel had gone, Banteon pulled out his terminal. When he opened his schedule, marked in red, the new materials Sodel had hurriedly sent were already updated.
“Substitute Class – 3 PM, Building F.”
As he checked the freshly added entry in the otherwise empty afternoon slot, his hand froze. The class was originally held in Building C—the same one Delroz had wrecked. An irrational unease crept in.
No way. It couldn’t be.
There were over ten different classes running in a single building. The odds that he’d be assigned that Esper’s class weren’t even worth calculating—they were that low.
He was just being overly sensitive lately. His mind was already chaotic enough; he didn’t need unnecessary worries adding to the mess.
Banteon stopped by the study and picked up a Level 3 textbook to bring along.
***
“Oh my god… it’s Instructor Banteon.”
“Wow, this is my first time seeing him.”
As soon as the door opened, murmurs filled the room as students turned to look at each other.
“Who’s that?”
“You know… Esrante.”
“Ah!”
Not an unfamiliar reaction. These days, many students had gotten used to Banteon’s classes, but back then, people were often stunned to learn that a direct descendant of the Esrante family was teaching. The fresh reactions brought those days back to mind.
“Quiet.”
He tapped the lectern twice, and the chatter quickly died down. Though, some students still mumbled quietly to the side, struggling to contain their curiosity.
Banteon scanned the classroom. Since this was a beginner-level course, the students were notably younger than those he usually taught. The oldest seemed barely over twenty, and most were in their mid-teens.
Small, young things might be cute—but he had no interest in minors.
‘Nothing interesting’s going to happen here.’
He murmured internally as he opened the textbook. Listing off the basic content he could explain in his sleep, he turned his gaze toward the screen at the front.
“We’ll start from page 97.”
Banteon proceeded with the class at a steady pace. As the once-rowdy atmosphere settled and the class ran smoothly, the anxiety tied to Building C gradually dissipated. These were just kids—not even close to someone like Delroz.
The lesson went on without issue. The only sounds in the room were the pointer tapping against the screen and Banteon’s calm voice. Before he knew it, half the scheduled time had passed.
—Click.
The door suddenly flung open, disrupting the peaceful classroom. Every eye turned toward the entrance as a heavy, suffocating tension blanketed the air.
The person who entered late walked in with complete nonchalance, heading to an empty seat without so much as a glance around.
A moment later, a man with ash-gray hair followed him in, bowing apologetically with an awkward look.
“I’m sorry. We’re a little… late.”
Banteon stared directly at him, and the gray-haired man bowed even deeper, his expression growing more sheepish. Quietly, he walked over and took a seat next to the one who’d entered first.
Banteon kept his eyes on the two latecomers. It wasn’t out of annoyance for the tardiness. Inside, he cursed under his breath.
‘Knew something felt off.’
The one whose head towered over the other students—it was Delroz, along with his subordinate, Petern.
Of all the substitute classes he could’ve ended up in, it just had to be Delroz’s. His luck was nothing short of cursed. His heart, which had been calm moments ago, began to race. He exhaled quietly, trying not to let it show.
His mind started spinning in overdrive. That night, he’d been in disguise. Delroz wouldn’t recognize him. Hopefully.
Because of the long wig he wore that night, Delroz was absolutely convinced the guide he’d met was a woman. Banteon had been utterly exasperated to learn someone could mistake his completely intact gender, but from his perspective, it was a blessing in disguise.
Memory always fades with time. Eventually, one only remembers the information they saw in the moment, while the specific images or the atmosphere are forgotten. And with the interference earrings on top of that, the memory would blur even faster.
That meant the distance between Banteon and the guide in Delroz’s memory would grow more and more over time.
‘Stay calm.’
Espers had instincts akin to wild animals—especially SS-ranks. If Delroz had recognized him, he would have noticed Banteon the moment he stepped into the classroom.
But Delroz simply lounged in his chair with one leg crossed, showing no sign of recognition. While the subordinate beside him hastily arranged pens and paper, Delroz stared into the distance, looking too indifferent to even care. The arrival of a new instructor didn’t seem to interest him at all.
It would be fine. Nothing would happen.
Banteon repeated it to himself like a chant as he gently rubbed at his stiff temple. He pressed his glasses more firmly onto his face to secure them.
Despite the chaos churning in his mind, Banteon resumed the lesson with a voice as composed as possible.
“There are differences in a guide’s ability, but unlike Espers, they can’t be ranked in tiers. This is because their reactions vary greatly depending on the compatibility rate with their matched Esper…”
Even as he feigned calm, the end of his sentence trembled ever so slightly.
As soon as the lecture picked back up, Delroz’s gaze shifted. Those eyes that had been staring into the void with no interest slowly followed the voice, locking onto Banteon.
Banteon had purposely avoided looking at him and didn’t notice the change. From head to toe, a dry, penetrating gaze slowly traced along his figure.
“How about you, Instructor?”
“You haven’t matched with an Esper yet, have you?”
The students, who’d been watching Banteon with curious eyes after hearing only rumors of him until now, started to show more interest and began asking questions. In response to the inquiry from an Esper much younger than himself, Banteon gave a faint smile.
Espers desiring guides—it was a universal trait, regardless of age.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t found a matched Esper yet.”
“Can we apply to take the matching test with you?”
“Who have you tried the tests with so far?”
They were personal questions, but between guides and Espers, such curiosity wasn’t uncommon. As the eyes of the young Esper sparkled with hope, Banteon firmly shut the door on it.
“I don’t test with minors.”
“Aww…”
“Boo.”
Their disappointment made the tension on Banteon’s lips ease just a little into a smirk.
“Alright, back to the lesson.”
The pointer made a crisp tap as it struck the screen. The suffocating tension from earlier softened thanks to that momentary bit of joking. The class, briefly interrupted, resumed flowing smoothly.
Until the very last second, when the bell rang to mark the end of the class, Banteon never once looked in Delroz’s direction.
“Thank you for the lesson!”
“I’ll definitely sign up for your class next time, Instructor!”
A few students came up to the podium, chatting brightly. Surrounded by these sociable kids, Banteon made a conscious effort to avoid letting his gaze wander toward Delroz. Using the students as a wall, he exited the classroom naturally.
Once outside and at a safe distance from Delroz, breathing became easier.
“You’re heading to Building A, right? Let me carry your stuff.”
Most of the students dispersed at a respectful distance, but one lingered beside Banteon. His “luggage” consisted of a single textbook, his terminal, and a pointer—nothing too heavy for a grown man. Still, the student hovered near, clearly looking for a chance.
When Banteon turned his head slightly, he could feel the faint ripple of energy not yet fully restrained. A clear signal—one that screamed: I’m an Esper. There were always a few like this. Particularly greedy types, showing an unusual interest in Banteon. Sometimes, that could be endearing—but not when they were this young. At the very least, they needed to be of age for it to be fun.
Sensing unnecessary trouble, Banteon opened his mouth to refuse firmly.
“It’s alrigh—”
“I’ll carry it instead.”
An unwelcome voice cut in from behind. Banteon froze in place, steps halting mid-stride. This was the first time he’d properly heard it, but the arrogant tone gave him away instantly.
There was no mistaking who it was.
Banteon quickly pulled back the textbook and supplies that the student had half-lifted, clutching them to his chest. He turned around—and as expected, Delroz stood there, expressionless.
From a distance, his lean build hadn’t seemed particularly large, but up close, his towering frame and distinctive aura felt downright intimidating.
