MCLE | Chapter 16

“H-Help….”

“Help?”

“P-Please….”

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Wyatt gritted his teeth as he spoke.

“C-Colonel.”

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Only then did Hexion smile gently. Wyatt thought that was it. But Hexion glanced at his watch one more time and spoke.

“10.”

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Wyatt jerked his head up. But he hadn’t misheard. That uncontrollable power inside him raged, clawing at his insides like it was tearing through his guts. He barely managed to swallow the scream that threatened to burst out. The taste of blood filled his mouth—his gums must have been bleeding.

“9.”

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Wyatt had seen enough to understand. That gray-haired man, the so-called colonel sitting above them, was hellishly merciless. He had to endure this countdown. If he lost his mind before it ended, it would all be over.

“8.”

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Wyatt gasped for breath before he coughed up blood. The mix of saliva and blood splattered onto the floor. The other espers stood frozen, staring blankly. Just witnessing it felt like torture. Their stress levels were rising—watching this scene made them realize that soon, they’d be the ones in his place. The fear sank in.

“7.”

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Wyatt choked and gagged. His eyes rolled back. Hexion, watching it all unfold, simply tapped his foot and continued counting slowly. As if he was deliberately dragging out the time to show Wyatt where his true limits lay. It was terrifying. The thing sitting above them now was no longer just a superior officer.

6, 5, 4, 3, 2. And finally—

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“1.”

Hexion finally knelt down on one knee. Then, pressing a light hand against the back of Wyatt’s neck, he made contact with his palm.

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Haa… Wyatt exhaled sharply. Hexion checked his watch. The device calculated the combined data of Hexion and Wyatt, displaying an estimated matching rate—55%.

Not bad.

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Hexion gently ran his hand down the back of Wyatt’s neck, then slid his hand under the uniform. As his fingers traced the firm, tensed muscles, Wyatt’s breathing gradually steadied.

The red screen indicating the rampage stage disappeared, replaced by a stress level reading. The number dropped slowly before settling around 80%. Hexion withdrew his hand. Wyatt lay flat on the ground, gulping down air like a man who had barely survived drowning.

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Hexion smiled, as if trying to lighten the stiffened atmosphere. It didn’t work. To them, he looked nothing short of a demon.

“Don’t forget—a guide holds your lives in their hands.”

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“…Yes, sir!”

They shouted in unison, almost like a scream. Hexion, satisfied that discipline had been properly established, slid his hands into his pockets.

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“Those who disobey orders will be pushed to the bottom of the priority list.”

“Yes, sir!”

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The espers shouted with all their might.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

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Hexion delivered the final blow.

“Anyone who defies orders here can look forward to being busted down to Private for a while. That’s all.”

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The espers were dumbfounded. Most of them were at least Sergeants, some even Master Sergeants at the highest rank. But what? Private? Private? Just one step above a recruit?

Their thoughts were in turmoil.

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“As you all know, the lower your rank, the more deployment missions you get. So, do try to endure.”

With those words, Hexion turned on his heel and walked out of the control room with Zero Nine, completely unaffected.

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“Keep your damn heads straight from now on.”

That was the last thing he left behind. And as the newly demoted privates stared at Wyatt, who was barely clinging to life on the floor, only one thought filled their minds.

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Yeah. Let’s not piss him off.

٠ ࣪⭑𓂃

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Zero Nine stepped into the penthouse on the 62nd floor, feeling… not exactly bad, but not particularly good either. If someone asked whether he was in a bad mood, the answer would be no. It was just—one of those days.

And, of course, his guide, who was annoyingly perceptive and acted like he knew everything about him, picked up on his state immediately.

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Unlike Zero Nine, who had haphazardly thrown on the pajamas prepared in the room, Hexion was draped in a soft-looking robe. When Zero Nine settled onto the sofa, Hexion sat on the adjacent one and crossed his legs. The movement caused the robe to part slightly, revealing the full length of his thigh.

“…What is this?”

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“Don’t get the wrong idea. No intentions this time.”

Like hell that’s my problem.

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Hexion smirked, as if finding the situation amusing. Zero Nine narrowed his eyes. There was no way Hexion Theobald ever did anything without meaning.

Zero Nine shot him a fleeting smile. Seeing that cryptic expression, Hexion thought to himself—his esper was sharp, incredibly perceptive, able to read people better than most. A little less awareness would make him easier to handle.

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“You did a good job with what I asked today.”

“It wasn’t a request. It was an order.”

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“An order? If it were really an order, why would I need to butter you up?”

“Ah…”

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Well, that made sense. Zero Nine couldn’t argue with that.

Hexion glanced at the watch on his wrist. Zero Nine’s stress level had gone up.

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Stress levels could rise due to mental pressure, but more often than not, it was caused by excessive use of abilities. Hexion gestured to the single-seater sofa he was sitting on, silently telling Zero Nine to come over.

Zero Nine observed him for a moment before getting up.

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“You should’ve just said something if it was this high.”

“And yet you were completely unbothered when you cranked someone’s up to 100% earlier.”

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“That’s different.”

“And how exactly is it different?”

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“Hmm.”

Hexion didn’t bother to give a real answer.

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Zero Nine didn’t like that. But at the same time, he figured this level of distance between them was probably for the best. Something about that man set off warning lights in his mind. Don’t get any closer. Stay where you are.

And yet, using the excuse of lowering his stress levels, he knelt before Hexion’s seat, pressing his lips lightly against the exposed edge of his knee.

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Hexion reached out a hand, but before he could do anything, Zero Nine laced his fingers through it and spoke.

“I want to touch you.”

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“Oh?”

Whether it’s the guide or the esper who initiates it, guiding works either way. Hexion, with his languid eyes, looked down at Zero Nine and asked.

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“From where, to where.”

Zero Nine, staring into those gray eyes looking down at him, unconsciously closed his mouth.

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Huh, where do I even want to know you from, and to where? Honestly, I’m not even that interested in you yet. Really.

Everything felt like an excuse, but Zero Nine meant it. Hexion Theobald was far too dangerous a man to trust or grow attached to.

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“……All of it.”

“Alright, then, my calamity.”

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Hexion unclasped his hands and slowly untied the robe’s belt, letting it slide down. The soft fabric slipped from his body, revealing his completely naked form to Zero Nine.

Zero Nine’s gaze was drawn to his pale body—just like earlier, on the couch. His hand reached out, slowly sliding up Hexion’s thigh in a ticklish motion. The large hand lightly gripped Hexion’s thigh before moving up along his pelvis, reaching his well-toned lower abdomen. His fingers traced the contours of his skin, rubbing softly before moving higher—greedily.

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Hexion let out a slow breath. And Zero Nine—

“…….”

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He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath.

He felt the urge to press his lips along the path his hand had taken over Hexion’s body.

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Instinctively, Zero Nine grabbed the leg Hexion had crossed and spread it apart. Hexion raised an eyebrow, but Zero Nine simply pushed his body between the parted legs.

Hexion let out a dry laugh.

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“You’re greedy.”

“Will I end up like that esper too?”

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“No way.”

Hexion, leaning lazily against the couch, reached out toward him. Zero Nine let the hand pulling his head closer stay there and licked the wound he’d left earlier. A scab had formed on his chest. Zero Nine nibbled at it with his lips, then slowly moved downward.

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His lips slid over the chest that rose with a breath, then rubbed against the contours of the lower abdomen he’d touched earlier. As his soft lips brushed against the skin, Hexion’s lower abdomen twitched slightly. A slow sigh escaped.

Zero Nine suddenly wanted to see his expression.

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So he pulled back and looked at his face. Hexion’s thin eyes narrowed even more. His gaze traced the pale, firm muscles—so pale that the veins were visible—before moving up along his neckline to study his face.