#4

Unusually, Delroz matched all guides with a similar rate, around 60%. This was an unacceptably low percentage for a formal match. In the center, 60% was the minimum required for temporary guides.

This phenomenon was unprecedented for the center. The researchers speculated that it was because of Delroz’s SS-rank status, but they couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason.

As a result, the center felt like a quiet war zone.

If things continued as they were, the guide chosen by Delroz would become his temporary guide. Thus, the nightly battles of people sneaking into Delroz’s bedroom grew fiercer. Those striving to win the favor of the SS-rank were employing all sorts of methods and means.

Meanwhile, some Espers felt disheartened seeing the guides being so proactive. They were shocked by the normally aloof guides’ behavior. Some accepted their lack of ability as the reason for their failure more readily than others.

For the first time since the founding of the nation, an SS-rank had been quantified. Most people were more curious than jealous of such overwhelming power. Even those initially envious soon turned to speculate on which guide would be matched with him.

After finishing his class, Banteon gathered his textbooks and pointer and opened the classroom door.

With the classroom noise cut off, only the sound of his footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor.

Tomorrow was the day Delroz would choose his temporary guide. The atmosphere had been chaotic due to the appearance of an SS-rank, but it would calm down after just one more day. Though the topic wouldn’t die until a formal match was found, the current heightened atmosphere would settle.

Walking down the corridor, he gazed absentmindedly at the setting sun outside the window.

The red sunset gradually expanded its reach, washing over the white exterior of the center. It began to darken as shadows crept in from a distance. The sky, always visible, seemed especially deep and red today, giving an ominous feeling as if something were about to happen.

His face reflected in the mirror was as rigid as the darkening sky. There had been no enjoyable events recently. With everyone on high alert due to the SS-rank’s appearance, hoping nothing untoward happened, Banteon’s actions had become cautious. He glanced at the calendar on his terminal. It showed a clean slate for the month with no markings.

‘Maybe I should go out for a change.’

Due to the chaotic atmosphere, his unintended abstinence period had been long. He turned off his terminal with thoughts of visiting Yasen after a long while.

---

Banteon attached a wig made from melted magic stone to his hair ends. Once it was completely adhered, his neat short silver hair transformed into luxurious long locks. It was so natural that even his fingertips couldn’t detect the joint.

He ran his hand over the unfamiliar sensation on the back of his neck, where normally smooth skin was now covered by flowing hair. As an educator, he couldn’t visit the pleasure district in his usual appearance, so this was the disguise he used for his visits to Yasen.

He folded his glasses, which took up half his face, and placed them on the small table, then put on dark brown contact lenses.

He changed out of his neatly buttoned attire into something more comfortable. Adding a few flashy accessories changed his appearance so much that even those who knew him well would have difficulty recognizing him. Banteon smiled in satisfaction at his reflection in the mirror.

Finally, he put on earrings that obscured facial recognition. By the next day, anyone’s memory of Banteon’s face would be replaced with a vague image. This was his preferred device for nighttime outings.

He left his room, tossing aside the cumbersome terminal he always carried.

Born onto a golden carpet, he had never lacked anything or missed out on anything he desired. Raised in such an environment, there was no reason for him to live suppressing his desires.

This included his sexual desires. He refrained from touching students to avoid unnecessary trouble, not out of moral restraint.

Occasionally, when the urge struck, he visited a pleasure district a bit away from the center. His favorite spot was Yasen, an exclusive venue visited by a select few.

Upon arriving at Yasen, the place was filled with nobles wearing elaborate masks, pretending to uphold their noble dignity and manners while lurking around.

Under the dim lighting, in spaces faintly illuminated by indirect light, elegantly dressed people pretended to lower their gazes while quickly scanning each other.

Banteon took a seat, comfortably accustomed to the attention. He ordered a drink with a reasonably high alcohol content from a waiter.

He filtered through the intense stares directed at him. He needed a simple, straightforward partner with whom he could enjoy a night and part ways without complications.

Who should he choose? Banteon scanned the room, seeking someone who seemed attracted to him but wouldn’t cause any trouble afterward.

“Can I sit here?”

A man with noticeably clear cheeks, even beneath his mask, approached and sat down quickly when Banteon didn’t refuse.

His light honey-colored hair swayed softly with his movements. The man, who glanced at Banteon with a suggestive smile, tilted his head and asked.

“Are you an Esper?”

“What do you think?”

“An Esper? A cognitive-type Esper?”

Half of the people who visited this place were Espers or guides. With his height over 180 cm and a certain solid atmosphere, people often mistook Banteon for a cognitive-type Esper.

“Why won’t you tell me? You are an Esper, right?”

“Who knows.”

Instead of correcting the wrong assumption, Banteon scrutinized the person in front of him.

The appearance was quite to his liking. Smiling subtly at the man’s superior looks compared to others around, Banteon thought that the man must have approached him with confidence.

Despite his boldness, the man’s shyly twisting body language showed a pretense of embarrassment. His deliberate and blatant attitude wasn’t bad.

“If you don’t want to tell me, should we talk about something else? Then, what do you think I am?”

At that, Banteon closely observed the smiling man. There was no characteristic aura flowing from an Esper, and the man’s surroundings remained clear. Therefore, he wasn’t an Esper.

“You’re a non-manifested person.”

“Oh, how did you know?”

“I have my ways.”

“That’s amazing. Most people can’t tell. Can you know without using a machine?”

If he wasn’t an Esper, he had to be a guide or an unmanifested person. Guides, being relatively fewer in number, were busy comparing the Espers at the center to choose a good match. They wouldn’t be looking for Espers in a secluded bar, so he must be an ordinary person.

“It’s not a particularly interesting story.”

“Really? By the way, you speak informally quite naturally.”

Despite the curt response, the man asked cheekily without showing any sign of offense. Banteon smiled slightly at the obvious question. It was rare for someone to speak informally at Yasen. Although anyone with a membership could visit, most of Yasen’s patrons were nobles.

Even among nobles, positions and influence varied. To prevent trouble, they tended to use formal language or try to gauge each other’s status.

Speaking informally without knowing the other person’s status implied that one came from a high-ranking family where such behavior wouldn’t cause issues.

“Do you want to go out with me? If it’s okay, we could see each other often. I’ve been alone for a while now.”

“Who knows.”

The man’s eyes sparkled as he quickly deduced Banteon’s status from his visits to Yasen. Conversely, Banteon’s interest cooled.

Normally, a small and cute man was just his type. A partner with fair, smooth fingers and a hint of blush was always welcome.

Even someone driven by material gain was acceptable. It was his preferred type of relationship to give a suitable reward and part ways cleanly. However, tonight he wasn’t inclined.

Perhaps seeing too many people circling around the SS-rank for their gain had affected him. He didn’t feel like responding to the openly displayed greed.

Banteon ignored the chatter of the man in front of him and continued scanning the room, giving half-hearted responses.

The man, initially full of enthusiasm, mumbled a few more words before dropping his head in dejection at the lack of response. Eventually, he left with disappointed steps.

A large shadow fell over the now-quiet seat beside him.

“No manners at all, huh?”

“……”

This time it was another guy. As soon as the seat became vacant, a new man swiftly occupied the chair. A glimpse to the side revealed a long, cool neck. Judging by his sitting height, he seemed taller than Banteon.

Unlike before, this newcomer addressed him informally right off the bat, and when Banteon looked at him, the man’s lips curled mischievously.

Under the lighting, the man’s bright blonde hair and deep red eyes matched his carefree demeanor. In other words, he looked frivolous and annoying.

“Was that guy not to your taste? He seemed alright.”

“……”

“Oh, should I introduce myself first? I’m Rohan. Not my real name, of course.”

Banteon frowned as the man continued to chat energetically even without a response.