The smile directed at Haimar was full of the sentiment that he had finally recognized him.
Beyond that, a playful mischief hinted at his delight in having something to tease Haimar with for briefly forgetting him.
It must have been quite embarrassing for Haimar.
Though he recognized him immediately, Haimar would also feel terrible if he thought Ben had briefly forgotten him.
Overwhelmed by intense longing, he wanted to pull Ben back and kiss him again immediately.
It was an action he would have executed right away had Ben not been fading to the point where his form was unrecognizable.
In the end, Haimar substituted the kiss by smiling back at Ben, but the smile did not last long and was soon coldly erased.
Now that he was fully aware, he couldn’t help but contemplate the cause of this situation.
No matter how high the hurdle of his consciousness was, and even if there was temporary confusion to the point of not recognizing his Guide, the moment he knew it was Ben, Haimar had no intention of building any barriers.
Therefore, Ben should have been stably resting within his subconscious without disappearing.
This unwanted fading was a sign that Ben was being forcibly awakened from the dream.
[I’m sorry for surprising you.]
Just before Haimar’s thoughts deepened, Ben, seeing the concern on his hardening face, left a final instruction before completely vanishing.
[Don’t get too angry! And don’t arrest innocent people.]
Even in this moment, my Guide is full of soft-hearted words.
Haimar Eilec, having absorbed every word of the fading voice, knew that the time had come, as the warmth in his heart disappeared.
The time had come for him to wake up from this dream.
“…!”
His consciousness, which had been deeply submerged and asleep, was instantly pulled back to reality.
It was an abrupt transition, like being thrown from the bottom of the deep sea onto the surface.
He woke from a deep sleep, but his mind was overly clear, with no lingering grogginess.
The bed he sat up in was filled only with cold stillness.
On the chilled bedsheet, he could feel nothing but his own body heat.
There was a void that nothing could replace.
In the space steeped in darkness, a stark contrast to the bright dream, Haimar felt a sense of foreboding.
Yes. Foreboding.
The very thing he had never expected to feel, as he was a man for whom nothing unexpected ever happened.
His rib cage suddenly dropped and failed to settle back into place, sounding an alarm.
It was akin to an intuition.
Buzz-z-z-z.
Just then, the smartphone lying nearby emitted a frantic vibration.
Haimar got out of bed, grabbed clothes at random, and, with an irritable motion, turned on the screen.
- 18 missed calls. Eli.
Crack.
The screen cracked and splintered under the force of his finger touching it.
It was frustration directed at himself for not having woken up until he decided he should.
Haimar immediately answered the 19th call, which continued to ring despite the damage.
- Haimar, how many times did I call, and you’re only answering now…!
“Speak.”
The low, boiling voice, completely devoid of inflection, silenced the caller.
Eli, the person who made the call, was momentarily speechless due to the immense pressure transmitted through the receiver.
She and Xenon were on their way to the apartment to inform him of the situation because he hadn’t answered the phone for so long, but Haimar somehow seemed to know something already.
She chose her words very carefully.
- …Do you… roughly know what’s going on?
“Don’t make me ask twice. Before I smash and rip off all those smart brains of yours.”
- …
Eli rarely felt this level of tension, unable to speak freely in front of Haimar.
The ferocity she felt now was on a different level than she was used to.
The Haimar she knew, while terrifying when necessary, was also a man who maintained a leisurely composure through everything; he wasn’t a man who suppressed his rage in such a terrifying manner.
Eli usually spoke her mind freely, but this time was different.
Every word she spoke felt like walking on a sharp blade due to the unrefined, rough intensity.
- So…
Eli knew that whatever she said, she couldn’t help but displease Haimar, so she hesitated greatly to speak without reservation.
No one could predict how the first Guide he ever had would influence him and drive his actions.
With the capital Central already in chaos, if Haimar also started acting arbitrarily, there was no telling where the disaster would strike next.
Telling him to calm down would be useless.
Eli clearly foresaw the pessimistic outlook ahead.
She only hoped that things wouldn’t descend into the absolute worst of many bad futures.
Worries piled up like mountains, but she couldn’t avoid answering his question.
Eli continued, grateful that he was on the other side of the phone today.
- …Roilnia attacked Central. She targeted Ben, and the last thing Pinca saw was him being dropped into a different space with Penka.
‘Roilnia,’ ‘kidnap,’ ‘must rescue.’
Haimar recalled the lip movements Ben had fleetingly used when he attempted to communicate through body language.
He also remembered Ben, who was covered in various injuries.
The guess he had harbored turned into certainty in that moment.
Now, the man finally understood what it felt like to face a known fact and wish it weren’t true, to want to deny the reality.
He felt even more foolish than the people he used to mock for being unable to accept reality.
Haimar Eilec was in the middle of a whirlpool of emotion he had never experienced in his life.
He truly understood the meaning of a chill, a coldness, running down the back of his neck today.
- Don’t hang up yet! Let’s talk when we meet. We’re almost there.
When his breathing faded without a response, Eli urgently shouted to keep him on the line.
- Wait, you’re not hanging up, are you? Don’t—
Despite Eli’s plea, Haimar, having no more to hear from her, ruthlessly cut the call.
It was obvious that even if they came and talked, it wouldn’t be useful, let alone truly heard.
He didn’t want to waste time on discussions that held no value for him.
“…Ha.”
Haimar exhaled the short breath he had taken.
Even though he was breathing, it felt as though he wasn’t.
Everything was numb, as if submerged underwater.
What filled the man now was not the serenity that came from Ben.
It was a cold, deep, and eerie silence that would inevitably become the seed of a violent storm.
The uniform flow of his power turned into a turbulent, strong current.
The windows rattled violently under Haimar’s uncontrollable, savage energy.
Smash!
The window, which had been shaking fiercely as if caught in a rough storm, finally shattered, unable to withstand the overflowing power.
Through the broken glass shards and the distorted window frame, he could see Central, where red smoke was rising.
Anger at the unfamiliar sense of loss arose in the eyes quietly observing the outside.
A cluster of negative emotions—anxiety, foreboding, emptiness—started to climb from the tips of his toes, taking control.
It was a level of unpleasantness entirely different from anything he had learned before.
Haimar had no idea how to manage the pieces of emotion overflowing like lava.
Not only did he not want to force himself to control them, but Ben was the one who had introduced him to this feeling of being unable to contain himself, of about to burst.
Therefore, it was only right that Ben should teach him how to quell it.
Haimar ran his hand through his hair, wiping his face.
The last remaining control device on his ear heated up, oblivious to the situation.
As the beast restrained by a loose leash slowly bared its fangs and quietly suppressed its fury, the atmosphere shivered in response.
He had no regard for the damaged Central.
Who cared who died where or how many more would die now?
His focus was solely on one thing.
Ben Plaskun.
Retrieving his Guide was the primary objective.
The woman, Roilnia, whom he couldn’t even feel satisfied with grinding into dust, was a secondary concern.
A chilling blue light flashed from his eyes, visible between the fingers that swept down his face.
“I must go find him. My Guide is calling for me.”
The curtain rose on a hunt longer than any before.
The beast, silhouetted against the bright moonlight, set out into the night streets to achieve victory and reclaim what was his.
In the city, snow was falling.
It was a heavy snowstorm, with large flakes filling the night sky and piling up.
The snow brought different feelings to different people.
For ordinary lovers, it brought a romantic night; for children, a sense of wonder; and for some, a harsh winter and bitter cold that was hard to endure.
For the old man, the snow was an unwelcome guest from the sky, causing traffic jams.
The snow-clogged roads delayed the busy man’s schedule by minutes.
Moreover, it was a major factor in delaying his return home.
Since the heavy snow showed no sign of stopping easily, Renato Lanilgraph decided early on to abandon hope for an early return home.
Instead, he leaned comfortably against the back seat of the car driven by his chauffeur and looked out the window at the snow-covered streetscape.
