* * *
“Yes. He’s recovering well now. It’ll take some time before he enters a stable phase, but he’s not in any danger.”
“Stable phase or not, it’ll still take a while for all the external injuries to heal, right? When I got there after the call, his face and body were a total wreck—what kind of lunatic could’ve done that—”
“Liri, this is so good! You have to try it!”
Just as Liran was sipping cold Americano and speaking, a nacho smeared with sour cream aggressively invaded her mouth.
She grimaced at the sudden intrusion, but Moria didn’t care and offered her the next bite—grilled mushrooms with melted cheese.
Moria’s pale green hair, damp with a bit of sweat, made it obvious she was watching someone’s mood.
Come to think of it, they never said Haimar killed him—just that he didn’t die.
Ben had pieced together from a brief conversation that Haimar had only beaten Xenon badly enough to not kill him.
“S-Sorry.”
Even though it wasn’t his fault, Ben scratched his head and apologized.
Strictly speaking, he had been the one to call Haimar to the scene, so in a way, he bore some responsibility for Xenon’s condition.
“No, no! He’s an Esper, so once he stabilizes, he’ll recover quickly! I’ve contacted [Integra] too, so we should be able to take further steps!”
“What? That monster did this to him? Ugh, his personality sucks. He could’ve just knocked him out quietly, but no—”
“Liri! That’s rude to say in front of Ben!”
“Wait, don’t silence me with food—mmph!”
Moria jumped up and shoved a beef wrap into Liran’s mouth from across the table, cutting off his words.
Liran glared at his guide while chewing the wrap, clearly disgruntled.
Once she began sipping her Americano again in silence, Moria shuffled through the documents on the table and resumed in her usual bright tone.
“Right, and I talked to Xenon after he regained consciousness. He said he started feeling strange after meeting some suspicious woman, but he couldn’t remember her clearly. But we found a clue!”
“A clue?”
“A needle mark on his neck! There was nothing foreign found in his system, but I think that’s what triggered his strange rampage.”
Like a detective straight out of a comic book, Moria dramatically flipped her hair in the air and her eyes sparkled.
“Usually, Espers aren’t injected directly. They use oral meds or internal implants. There was some research into it ages ago, but it was too risky to be practical… Anyway! So typically, only verified external devices are used. The most common being those control devices worn on the ear.”
At her words, Ben immediately thought of the control unit attached to Haimar’s ear.
He wasn’t a researcher, so he didn’t know the details, but he got the gist—currently, Esper abilities can only be regulated by external suppressive devices.
“But now this mystery woman injects an unconscious Esper, and then he starts rampaging? Isn’t that super suspicious?!”
“That does sound suspicious.”
“And hearing what you said yesterday, Ben, the circumstances are way too fishy, right?”
“That’s enough. You’re a researcher, not the police, Momo.”
Liran, calmly eating her share of the beef wrap, stuffed a canapé into Moria’s mouth this time to cut her off.
“Buuuut, I wanna say it at least once! Like, ‘There’s only one truth!’”
“This isn’t a kid’s mystery game. Leave that to the actual investigation units.”
Moria pouted at the indisputable logic and let out a deflated “hmph.”
When Liran handed her an untouched chocolate drink, she finally dropped the detective act.
“Oh, and just so you know—those guys we ran into yesterday? They were found dead nearby.”
“What? But… I thought he didn’t kill them?”
“He didn’t. Which honestly makes it more surprising. I don’t know the full details, but the autopsy showed signs of Esper rampage, and the guide was dead. So officially, they’re calling it ‘an accident caused by an Esper’s rampage following the guide’s death.’”
‘An accident caused by an Esper’s rampage following the guide’s death.’
It sounded plausible, but there were too many holes.
Why did the guide die?
And how did the rampage stop?
Ben’s uncertain expression was quickly mirrored by Liran, who nodded.
“Yeah. That was a clear ‘murder.’ Lucky it happened in a back alley. If it had been downtown, no way they could’ve swept it under the rug. Since there’s no hard evidence, they’re just slapping a label on it for now and quietly investigating.”
“Exactly. And I think it’s definitely related to that ‘suspicious woman’ you and Xenon mentioned.”
“Once Xenon Pinaca recovers properly, we’ll get more clarity. By the way, your arm—if it’s affecting your work, you’d better speak up.”
With the topic winding down, Liran’s gaze shifted to Ben’s arm wrapped in bandages as he crumpled the empty wrap wrapper.
“It’s not affecting my work at all. It’s my left arm, and though the bandaged fingers are inconvenient, I can just mention it when I get the bandages changed.”
“But how did you even hurt your arm? If you were with Haima, that shouldn’t have happened, right?”
At Moria’s question, Ben hesitated—rare for him.
She wasn’t wrong; normally, you’d be safer with Haima.
But ironically, it was Haimar’s strength that injured him.
Though, since it was his own fault for attempting a throw at that moment, he didn’t agonize over it too long.
“Uh, well…”
Click.
Just as Ben was about to come up with an excuse, the meeting room door opened with perfect timing.
“There you are.”
A low, pleasant voice filled the room, instantly drawing attention.
Ben, recognizing it immediately, stood up and turned.
“Oh, you’re done.”
“Hello, Haima!”
Moria greeted him cheerfully, but Haimar only glanced at her before his eyes returned to Ben.
Apparently, his meeting with Director Hoaphilen had wrapped up sooner than expected, and he’d come straight here.
“Have you eaten?”
“No.”
Haima answered without a pause.
Director Hoaphilen Legius had offered him lunch, but he’d turned it down flat—it wasn’t something he wanted, nor was the atmosphere inviting.
Hearing that, Ben, who was holding a fruit juice, unconsciously offered it.
“Would you like some?”
The half-full cup of thick strawberry juice glistened with condensation, cold and inviting.
As the straw swirled lazily inside, Haimar’s pale rose lips gently closed around it without hesitation.
“…Kyaaa.”
The moment Haimar’s throat moved with a gulp, Moria clasped her cheeks and let out a tiny squeal.
Ben gave her a puzzled look, and she met his gaze with eyes wide and sparkling, cheeks faintly flushed—like a pure-hearted girl who had just witnessed a secret moment with a famous idol.
“…Moria?”
“You two… seem to be getting along really well! It’s kind of… embarrassing to watch? Makes me feel hot under the collar. Eek.”
…What?
If I had to explain it, the only real difference in how I treat Haimar now is that my behavior’s gone from “a bit extra” to “pretty damn extra.”
Ben’s eyebrows twisted in a confused frown, clearly still unconvinced by Moria’s comment, but honestly, it made sense.
The guy standing in front of me could make anything look obscene just by existing.
The person in question, though—Haima—seemed to find Moria’s words completely useless.
After taking a sip from the drink Ben handed him, all he did was calmly comment:
“It’s sweet.”
“There must be quite a bit of sugar in it.”
When Ben gave the nearly-empty drink a little shake and set it down on the table, Liran Siu, standing at a distance in the back, let out a sigh and tapped her forehead at Moria’s words—but didn’t intervene.
Probably because she knew trying to stop her would be pointless.
But in truth, she had been quietly observing Ben and Haimar with a surprisingly calm eye.
If you looked at it objectively, Haimar—with his tall, well-proportioned frame, white turtleneck sweater, and long camel coat that fell to his knees—looked absolutely stunning to someone like Liran Siu, who had a refined eye for beauty.
Not just anyone could pull off a coat like that; you needed height and broad shoulders, and he wore it like a runway model.
And every item he wore was designer.
His face?
Ridiculously handsome—regardless of any personal dislike she might have.
On top of that, he was loaded.
All of that would make him a perfect human being—if not for that disaster of an ability and a personality that was impossible to read, both of which turned him into a walking contradiction.
In contrast, Ben Plaskun looked downright ordinary in his white shirt layered with a V-neck sweater.
Of course, comparing anyone to Haimar was unfair to begin with.
Still, Ben had a gentle, neat face—not a strikingly beautiful one, but pleasing to look at.
While he didn’t quite meet her highest standards, he did hit the minimum threshold.
When those two—men from completely different worlds—were first thrown together, the scene was like watching a sudden cold snap turn a pond to glass. Frozen, tense.
And yet, the Haimar Eilec and Ben Plaskun standing before her now…
Strangely enough, they looked… pretty good together.
* * *
