MCLE | Chapter 15

“You really shouldn’t not know who I am.”

”……C-Colonel?”

Hexion looked down at him without replying for a moment. Matthew started to wonder if he had done something wrong. The cold gaze staring down at him stung. Somehow, this was more suffocating than when the espers had grabbed him earlier. His slow brain turned and turned until he finally recalled what Kang Wooshin had said today.

“S-Sergeant Matthew Gillot.”

“Right.”

Hexion looked at him as if he had a long way to go.

“Yeah, Sergeant Gillot.”

“Yes—no, I mean, yes, sir!”

Matthew jumped to his feet. A red mark, left by an Esper’s grip, remained on his neck. Hexion clicked his tongue and turned away. Zero Nine, who had been following him lazily, tilted his head—his expression showed he found it strange that the Espers couldn’t move an inch.

“Are they all this weak?”

“My disaster, there’s no need to make enemies on purpose.”

“I know that, but still.”

Zero Nine couldn’t understand. Hexion had told him to clear a path, so he did. It was an easy task—he hadn’t even needed to lift a finger. As he looked at the dozens of Espers split apart to the sides, he thought that someone might break free from his restraint and lash out.

But looking at them now? Not a chance.

The Espers’ eyes were bloodshot from burst capillaries. Some even looked dangerously close to entering the rampage stage. Standing beside Hexion, Zero Nine whispered to him, but Hexion didn’t seem to care. He was just staring straight at the guide in front of him.

“How does it feel?”

”……No issues, sir.”

Matthew Gillot might have been slow, but he wasn’t completely clueless. He had a gut feeling that complaining here would only lead to trouble.

Hexion let out a faint smirk, then turned to the Espers. Zero Nine glanced at Hexion’s face. Ah, that smile again—not hostile, but still unsettling. A chilling, creeping kind of smile.

“Some of you might already know, but as of today, I’ve been assigned here as a colonel.”

Hexion’s gaze slowly swept over the Espers on both sides.

“That means I’m the one in charge of you all.”

A few Espers scowled. Hexion didn’t miss that.

“Now, get out.”

At his gesture, the force restraining them immediately lifted. The Espers exchanged glances. If it were just the two guides, they might have tried something. But this new colonel’s Esper was a concern. The more they thought about it, the more they realized—even if all of them attacked at once, they might not be able to win.

A pair of rare violet eyes were watching them.

Some of the Espers hesitated before slipping out of the room. The other guides were likely in similar situations, so getting guided immediately would be difficult. But at the very least, they wouldn’t be abandoned to rampage. They had that much trust.

But the majority of the Espers didn’t move.

With more space now in the treatment room, one of the freed Espers stepped right up to Hexion’s face. Zero Nine narrowed his eyes, but Hexion raised a hand slightly, signaling him to hold back.

“You screwing with us right now?”

“Rank.”

“You think that shit means anything here?”

Like hell it does. The esper sneered, biting out the words. Hexion chuckled as if he found it amusing.

“It does now, starting the moment I arrived.”

With a swift motion, the esper raised his hand. But there was no way Zero Nine would just stand by and watch.

Bang!

With a loud crash, the esper’s head was slammed into the floor. The impact was strong enough to dent the ground. The other espers standing nearby grimaced at the sound.

Hexion lightly looked down at the scene, then placed his boot on top of the esper’s head and pressed down.

“Man, guys like this are everywhere. Do they have some kind of school? They all come out exactly the same.”

The esper’s fingers twitched as he lay face-down on the floor. But since he still couldn’t get up, it meant Zero Nine was still holding him down with his power.

Hexion turned to Sergeant Matthew Gillot and gave an order.

“Get out.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Take the espers waiting outside and move to the treatment room. The ones in here? Push them all to the bottom of the list.”

“B-But is that okay?”

When he hesitated, Hexion shot him a lopsided grin. That was when Matthew realized—he had messed up again.

Quickly straightening his posture, he gave a crisp salute and responded without delay.

“Understood!”

“There won’t be a third time.”

“Yes, sir!”

Matthew scrambled out of the room and, following Hexion’s orders, led the waiting espers to an empty treatment room.

Meanwhile, Hexion lifted his foot off the esper’s head and checked his watch.

Zero Nine’s stress level: 53%.

He needed to check the others as well. Pressing the button twice, he contacted the management team.

“Sync the data for all espers.”

[Understood.]

Unlike espers, the management team was much more obedient and polite. They were also quick at handling tasks.

Hexion scanned the data as it started streaming into his watch.

72%, 78%, 84%… 94%.

The esper beneath his feet was just shy of hitting the rampage threshold.

Perfect.

A smirk tugged at Hexion’s lips.

With a light wave of his hand, he signaled Zero Nine to release his hold. The esper staggered as he got up, his eyes bloodshot as if they were ready to burst.

“You… you son of a bitch…!”

“Wow, that’s all you got? Even in a situation like this? You must’ve had a very tame upbringing.”

Hexion had no intention of guiding him. The esper was already in bad shape, but Hexion exuded a carefree ease as if he had all the time in the world.

After all, this much wouldn’t kill him.

After ten years of war, Hexion knew all too well just how much an esper could endure.

His smirk widened, sharp canines flashing.

The esper, unable to hold back any longer, lunged to grab Hexion by the collar.

But his hand was instantly stopped by Zero Nine’s power.

Hexion glanced at his watch.

Stress level: 98%.

Once it hit 100%, the esper would officially enter the rampage stage.

Hexion watched the number climb with amusement, waiting for it to reach its peak.

“You… you bastard…!”

99%.

A flicker of fear entered the esper’s eyes.

If he rampaged now, his entire body would be wracked with unbearable agony. He could already feel it, his body warning him of the impending disaster.

Hexion, on the other hand, simply watched his watch with an indifferent expression—completely unbothered by how things would turn out.

And then—

100%.

At that moment, the watch flashed a red screen.

Wyatt Taylor, Rampage Stage 1.

As soon as the indicator appeared, the management team urgently connected a call. Their voices were filled with panic.

[Wyatt Taylor has entered Rampage Stage 1!]

“Yeah, I figured.”

[What the hell is going on?!]

“I’ve got it under control. Hang up.”

Click.

Wyatt Taylor’s entire body trembled as his muscles twisted and tensed. Zero Nine did what he was supposed to—making sure that no one, not a single finger, could lay a hand on Hexion.

Boom!

Gugh, khhk.

Wyatt collapsed to the floor, gasping and choking.

Watching him, Hexion was suddenly reminded of his first encounter with Zero Nine. That had been the first time he kissed someone without even knowing their eye color.

As Hexion lost himself in that amusing memory, Zero Nine silently observed the esper writhing on the ground with an unreadable expression.

The pressure Hexion exuded weighed down the entire treatment room. It felt like their lungs were being crushed.

The other espers, watching Wyatt struggle, felt the tension creep into their eyes.

Ah. If I stay here any longer… I’ll end up just like him.

Wyatt’s body was covered in bulging veins, his entire frame trembling violently. His bloodshot eyes glared at Hexion with pure murder.

And yet, Hexion took a step closer.

Then, tilting his head ever so slightly, he looked down at Wyatt with calm indifference.

“You can die like this. Or accept reality.”

“Khkk, kghh—”

Wyatt didn’t want to die. Of course, he didn’t.

But what the hell gave this guide so much confidence? If he went on a full rampage here, the entire living bureau would be reduced to dust.

And yet— why.

Why.

With his blood vessels rupturing and his vision turning crimson, Wyatt barely managed to lift his gaze to Hexion.

And then—he understood.

Ah.

This guy really doesn’t care if I die. He’s not afraid of my rampage.

The cold, emotionless gray eyes staring down at him told him everything.

Wyatt stretched out his hand. His fingers trembled violently from the pain. And then, his hand grasped Hexion’s boot.