MCLE | Chapter 3

“It was about two years after the war started that they began drugging espers on the verge of rampage and throwing them into the Allied Nations’ territory.”

“Ah, yeah. That’s right.”

Elijah frowned. No matter how inhuman espers might feel, they still had human-like appearances. That’s why even Elijah couldn’t help but feel repulsed by ‘that crazy operation.’

A Country loaded drugged espers onto fighter jets and dropped them right into the heart of enemy lines. Once the esper woke up from the drugs, they immediately entered a rampage state, and the Allied Nations’ camp was—quite literally—blown to smithereens.

“It was because of A Country’s insane tactics that ‘guides’ were discovered.”

“One of the soldiers desperately trying to subdue a rampaging esper turned out to be a guide.”

“It’s fortunate that the discovery happened on the Allied Nations’ side.”

The attempt to subdue the esper had accidentally triggered ‘guiding.’ For the first time, an esper in rampage state had been calmed. Naturally, this incident was immediately classified as top secret, and every person who had come into contact with the esper was placed under investigation and medical examination. That was how the first guide was discovered…

“They were worked to death.”

“Please don’t put it like that.”

Elijah’s expression hardened. But whether he liked it or not, facts were facts. There were countless attacking espers, but only one guide had been found. Hexion was just glad that he hadn’t been the first guide. After that, the Allied Nations went mad trying to locate other guides within their military ranks. And about a year later, Hexion himself awakened as a guide.

“At that time, including me, there were twelve guides.”

A hopelessly small number compared to the espers. But war was war. There was no room for complaints. If A Country sent out an esper, the guides had no choice but to go after them. Subduing them and making physical contact was an exhausting ordeal.

As Hexion got lost in old memories, Elijah glanced at him and asked, “But still, aren’t you kind of a ‘legend’?”

“For the love of god, don’t call me that.”

“I mean, during the war, part of the cave collapsed while you were luring an esper. You got trapped in enemy lines with five hostile espers and returned ten days later after successfully bringing them all over to our side…”

“Let’s not talk about that. It was a nightmare.”

Hexion openly expressed his distaste. He wasn’t actually that pissed—just enough to signal that he wanted to change the subject. Elijah clamped his mouth shut. Then, noticing his smartphone vibrating, he picked up the call.

“Oh, the detox is complete? I’ll head over. The location? A-13? Got it.”

After ending the call, Elijah looked at Hexion, who was honestly relieved that this dull conversation was finally over. Elijah walked past a vault-like door and continued down the underground corridor. Hexion leisurely followed beside him.

Elijah spoke. “It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Yeah?”

“Like I said, he’s calm and cooperative.”

“Hmph… we’ll see.”

As Hexion walked further down the corridor, he got a rough idea of just how massive this underground base was. Elijah eventually stopped in front of a door marked A-13. It didn’t look much different from the one before. The same old treatment, as if they were handling a walking time bomb. Some things never changed.

“You’ll be going in alone. Have a proper conversation. I hope you two get along.”

“Oh, please. Even if we don’t, you’ll just lock us up in the same facility until we do.”

“Well, words should at least sound polite, shouldn’t they?”

Elijah flashed a bright smile, as if he were some hotel concierge, and tapped the key card against the scanner. With a mechanical beep, the door slid open, revealing the man inside.

Zero Nine. The ninth calamity.

The empty room felt suffocatingly full—overwhelmed by his mere presence.

Step. Step.

As soon as Hexion stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind him with a heavy thud. Their gazes met. Neither spoke first. Lavender eyes and dark gray eyes locked onto each other in an unrelenting stare. Above them, the dim yellow light poured down.

“Ah, this feels like motion sickness,” Zero Nine murmured.

“Do espers even get motion sickness?” Hexion asked, his tone void of any malice.

Zero Nine let out a fleeting smile and clasped his hands together on his knee.

“So, you’re supposed to be my guide?”

“That’s right. You don’t have a choice.”

“I’ve never had choices to begin with.”

“Well, that’s good. Makes this situation easier to deal with.”

“Ah, guiding… It’s my first time experiencing it.”

Zero Nine stared into those narrowing gray eyes.

Good. At least he remembered the kiss. It would’ve been pretty damn lonely if Hexion had been the only one holding onto that memory.

He took a few steps closer.

“…I never knew it could feel this good.”

“So the other guides weren’t much help?”

“They were just… disgusting.”

His words were razor-sharp. Hexion recalled Elijah’s earlier comment about him being “calm.” He might act composed, but his personality? Not so much.

It was just a hunch—a soldier’s instinct. The kind of gut feeling that helped him assess the temperament of the person he was now responsible for.

“You’re not expecting a kiss every day, are you? Or do I only get to do it right before you go into rampage mode?”

“Kissing isn’t a requirement.”

Hexion bent down slightly, his hand tilting Zero Nine’s chin upward.

“Even a simple touch is enough for guiding.”

His fingernails lightly traced up along the sharp jawline before pressing gently at the hinge of his jaw. Then, his thumb brushed over the soft curve of his earlobe, while his middle finger pressed into the small dip just behind his ear.

A soft ah slipped from Zero Nine’s lips.

“…Not sure if it’s the guiding that feels good, or just you touching me.”

“Well, well.”

“Have you guided other espers besides me?”

“Quite a lot.”

“How many?”

“Too many to count on my fingers.”

Hexion gently ran his fingers through the back of Zero Nine’s hair, his touch slow and deliberate. His long, strong fingers wove effortlessly through the strands, skilled and practiced.

Zero Nine felt like a cat being petted.

“So, I’m the only one you’ll be handling from now on, right?”

“You heard that?”

“I eavesdropped.”

Hexion had heard his voice earlier—raw and cracked from just having come out of rampage mode. So, he was just pretending to be docile, huh? That was kind of amusing.

He was used to espers putting on an act to get in a guide’s good graces.

“You’re really putting on a good show, taming your temper and playing all sweet.”

Zero Nine went silent for a moment.

“…Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah.”

Zero Nine’s lips curled up slowly. One of his narrowed eyes still couldn’t close properly. Hexion found himself staring at it without meaning to. Then, in a slightly careless tone, Zero Nine asked,

“So, you’re not into people acting all sweet?”

A shadow fell across his face. The overhead lighting couldn’t quite reach him.

There was a certain resignation in his voice. Like someone who had already given up on expecting anything.

But strangely, to Hexion, it didn’t feel like a provocation.

The smirk, the upward lilt of his voice—it was all teasing on the surface, but beyond that, there didn’t seem to be any deeper meaning.

“No, it’s not bad.”

Zero Nine’s smile shifted. This time, it was a perfectly crafted expression—neat and polite. Lips curved at just the right angle, eyes soft and gentle.

But Hexion preferred the earlier one.

The smile he had when he asked “So, you’re not into it?”—that one had been more genuine.

“Well, then, I guess I’ll just have to keep playing sweet.” If you like it, I’ll do it.

He seemed used to adjusting himself entirely to suit others.

Hexion had spent years dealing with mad, reckless, rampaging espers. And now, here was one acting like a tame little housecat.

This was going to be exhausting.

“For how long?”

“For as long as you’re by my side.”

Hexion had a vague idea of what kind of resignation Zero Nine carried.

For years, he had belonged to A Country, never granted any freedom as an individual. And now, he had simply been transferred from one set of hands to another.

Even now, nothing had changed.

Hexion didn’t mock him for it. He couldn’t.

Serving as a military guide had been absolute hell for him—so just how much worse had it been for this guy?

“You think you can keep up the act forever?”

“Who knows?”

Zero Nine’s answer was deliberately vague.

That was the voice of someone who didn’t believe in anything.

He had been a prisoner of A Country for over a decade. Now, he was in the hands of the Allied Nations. And now, he had no choice but to entrust himself to a guide he hadn’t even chosen.

There was no way he could believe in anyone.

But Hexion, as if speaking with certainty, told him—