RVN Ch 4

There was only one pub within the Esper-Guide Center. District 13 was smaller in scale compared to other districts. The number of Espers and Guides stationed here was also relatively low, and the center’s facilities were poor in comparison. It was inevitable that there was only one pub.

Technically, he could go outside the center, but the idea of traveling far just for a drink felt like a hassle. His plan was simple—have just one drink to calm his unsettled mind, then head up to his quarters and sleep.

As expected, the only pub in the center had quite a few patrons. Everyone seemed to have free time on their hands. Renault, looking exhausted, sat down at the bar and ordered a bourbon.

“What’s this? You’re going for the strong stuff so early? Something happen?”

The bartender acknowledged him while sliding over the bourbon. Since this was a place where all Espers and Guides staying at the center came and went, the bartender knew a lot of people. And there was no way he wouldn’t know Renault, who was well-known for various reasons. Renault, too, recognized the bartender, given he was a regular at the pub by default.

“I feel like shit.”

“You’re telling me a guy with a face like yours can feel like shit?”

The bartender chuckled, throwing out a lighthearted joke.

“I always figured you were happy every time you looked in the mirror. If I had your face, I’d be grinning all day.”

“Appreciate the effort, but it’s not funny.”

Renault’s indifferent response made the bartender snicker as if he had expected it.

“Oh, who do we have here? If it isn’t Team 2’s team leader, who’s quite rare to see at this hour?”

A loud voice rang out as someone slapped Renault’s shoulder. His brow twitched slightly. This was exactly why he didn’t like coming down to the pub—too many people to run into.

“What brings you down here drinking alone?”

The one talking incessantly was Jesus, the captain of Team 3. He wasn’t a bad guy, but his chatter could be exhausting at times.

“I’m in a bad mood, so don’t talk to me.”

“You should be celebrating—finally getting a dedicated Guide, and an S-class one at that! Why the long face?”

Jesus plopped down on the seat next to him without hesitation, running his mouth as usual. Renault had to fight the urge to punch him for bringing up the one topic he least wanted to think about.

As expected, the bartender, who was pulling out Jesus’s beer, raised an eyebrow. His expression asked, Is that true? Within an hour, the entire center would likely know that Renault had been assigned a dedicated Guide.

“By the way, there are already plenty of rumors about your precious S-class Guide.”

“What rumors?”

“That he’s got a nasty temper.”

Jesus clinked his beer bottle in a mock toast, laughing. Renault, on the other hand, just pressed his thumb against his furrowed brow. He wasn’t good at hiding his frustration. He had already experienced firsthand how rude that brat was from their first meeting. Thinking about it again, he felt a fresh wave of dread washing over him.

“You’re in for some serious trouble, having to deal with a Guide like that.”

Renault pretended not to hear Jesus’s chatter and took a gulp of bourbon. He needed to drink up and head to bed before he got stuck listening to an all-night discussion about his new S-class Guide.

“Well, speak of the devil. They say if you talk about the tiger, it appears—looks like your Guide just walked in.”

Jesus suddenly looked amused, his eyes glinting with interest. Renault couldn’t help but follow his gaze. As Jesus had said, a group of people had entered and were noisily settling at a table. Fortunately, they were far from the bar.

Judging by the crowd, it seemed like a gathering of Guides—mostly women and small-framed men. More than half of them were familiar faces. Since Renault had no dedicated Guide until now, he had been guided by various ones at the center for a long time.

Among the familiar faces, one figure stood out. Taller than the others by a head, broad-shouldered, and strikingly handsome. When Renault had first seen him, he had naturally assumed he was an Esper. The arrogant brat—his assigned S-class Guide.

Damn it. Renault swore under his breath the moment he recognized him. Of all people, the last person he wanted to see had just walked in. This was exactly why he avoided the pub. He was having the same thought now as when he first ran into Jesus earlier. Renault downed another gulp of bourbon.

Still, he couldn’t stop his narrowed eyes from instinctively tracking the S-class Guide. He disliked the guy, but there was no denying he drew attention. Besides, this was his new dedicated Guide. Whether he liked it or not, he had to observe him.

The man was dressed in black slacks and a high-necked black top. His dark hair only made his pale face stand out more. Unlike when they had met in the hallway a few days ago, there was no trace of the bright smile he had worn then.

Perhaps that was why his expressionless, strikingly beautiful face looked so utterly cold. Like a perfectly sculpted porcelain doll. Surrounding him were mostly women. Renault let out a dry chuckle at the way they gazed at him in admiration.

“People have no sense.”

As Renault watched him with an irritated expression, a group of men at another table suddenly approached the Guide’s table, striking up conversation.

No, conversation wasn’t the right word. They were picking a fight.

Even without hearing the exchange, their hostile expressions and aggressive body language made it obvious. Their target? The S-class Guide.

They were young Espers—troublemakers with a bad reputation. There was no shortage of Espers who threw their weight around, but these guys were particularly notorious. Renault had already been planning to deal with them sooner or later.

“What team are those bastards from again?”

“Team 5.”

Jesus, who had been gulping his beer, answered without hesitation. He had clearly been watching them as well. Renault rubbed his temple with his fingertips, debating. Should he step in or wait a little longer?

“This is looking bad.”

Jesus set down his beer, also sensing the tension.

Center regulations forbade Espers from using their abilities inside the facility. Breaking that rule could mean solitary confinement, demotion, or even reassignment. So, if a fight broke out, it would be a fistfight.

Even then, Guides rarely stood a chance against Espers. Physical strength alone made them an unfair match. Some Espers, especially the nastier ones, would pick fights inside the center, then drag things outside where they could freely use their abilities to crush their opponents.

Most of the time, Guides chose to back down and avoid conflict—it was an unfair reality, but that was just how things were.

Yet, for some reason, the new S-class Guide had managed to get on these guys’ bad side. The fact that they were picking a fight the moment he walked in suggested this wasn’t the first time.

Well, considering how rudely he had treated Renault himself, this wasn’t surprising. He had probably brought it on himself. Or maybe trouble just found trouble.

Besides, low-ranked Espers—B-class and below—weren’t even allowed to participate in matching tests with S-class Guides. To them, an S-class Guide was an unattainable prize, something dangling just out of reach. No wonder they had no reason to suck up to him. Renault scoffed. Pathetic bastards.

While Jesus fidgeted, ready to jump in at any moment, Renault simply leaned on his hand and continued to observe.

The young S-class Guide stared at the Espers picking a fight with him, looking bored. Renault clicked his tongue softly. No matter how exceptional an S-class Guide might be, underestimating an Esper would only lead to trouble.

“You little shit!”

It didn’t take long before one of the Espers’ curses rang out loudly. As expected, the situation was unfolding just as Renault had anticipated. The entire pub turned its attention to the brewing fight between the Guide and the Esper.

This is bad. Renault muttered inwardly.

At that moment, the seated S-class Guide suddenly reached out and grabbed the collar of the Esper who had been provoking him. He stood up in one swift motion, holding the Esper firmly by the scruff of his neck with one hand, while his other fist shot forward.

The Esper was shorter than the young Guide, but he had a solid, muscular build. Even so, he couldn’t defend himself against the oncoming blows and could do nothing but take them.

Thud. Thud. With every brutal impact, the sickening sound of bones breaking echoed through the pub. Blood splattered in all directions as the Esper’s face swelled and twisted beyond recognition. His eyes rolled back as he lost consciousness, completely beaten to a pulp.

Despite this, the Guide showed no sign of stopping. His fists continued to rain down without hesitation, as if he were pummeling an inanimate object rather than a person.

The other Espers, who had been standing nearby, had turned pale, frozen in place. Instead of intervening, they took hesitant steps backward, too stunned to react. And these guys call themselves warriors? Renault scoffed, watching the ridiculous scene unfold.