Introduction to Guide Studies chapter 42

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Once the idea solidified, Ben didn’t hesitate.

He quickly scanned the scenery outside, memorizing the details, then glanced at the rearview mirror.

The cars chasing them were just barely more than 50 meters away.

Without hesitation, he swerved into a narrow alley and slammed on the brakes.

Thud—!

Even though the bumper hit a battered “No Parking” sign and dented it slightly, Ben didn’t care.

He jumped out, yanked Xenon from the passenger seat, and dashed toward the alley entrance.

“I know this is rough, but please hang in there a little longer.”

He wanted to check on Xenon’s condition, ask how he was feeling—but with their pursuers hot on their trail, there was no time.

Thankfully, Xenon managed to move his legs, barely keeping up despite Ben’s rough handling.

That alone let Ben pick up the pace.

“Hey! After them! Those bastards ran for it! Where the hell do they think they’re going?!”

As expected, the thugs jumped out of their car and bolted after them, kicking aside the abandoned vehicle blocking the alley like it was nothing.

Judging by their voices, there were about three or four of them—not a huge number, which was a small comfort.

But Ben couldn’t afford to relax just yet.

“Boss! I don’t know what trick they pulled, but the backs of their heads look the same! Their faces too—”

“Are you seriously analyzing their faces right now? Just go after both of them, dumbass!”

The sound of shoes slamming into asphalt and the flustered shouting behind them told Ben his gamble was working—at least a little.

There was a flicker of hope in that chaos.

Determined to make the most of this tiny opening, Ben twisted and turned through the maze of alleys, always picking the narrowest and darkest path.

“Ugh… ngh…! I… I can’t… anymore…”

Normally, as an Esper, Xenon could’ve easily outpaced any regular human.

But in his current condition, his steps were growing sluggish, and the pursuers were closing in fast.

With no other choice, Ben swung Xenon up over one shoulder.

The weight of a full-grown man pressed down on his shoulder like a ton of bricks.

Gritting his teeth, Ben pushed on, turning through a few more alleys before gasping for breath as he came to a stop.

“Hah… hah…”

They were now in a slightly wider alley, the kind you’d find in any neighborhood—a communal trash collection area.

A mountain of garbage bags was piled high on one side, and the food waste disposal machine whirred ominously.

The stench was unbearable.

The bins for bottles and plastics were overflowing, their lids barely hanging on.

Then Ben spotted it—an enormous cardboard collection bin, just a bit shorter than himself.

It was stained and reeked, but definitely large enough for a person to fit inside.

Alright. I made it.

This was a spot he’d noted while driving earlier, even if he’d only glimpsed it for a moment.

He wasn’t sure if it would work, but there weren’t many options.

Xenon couldn’t run anymore.

Ben had planned for that from the start.

Whether they got caught or not hinged on the next few seconds—there was no time to hesitate.

“Xenon, I’m going to put you in here. I’ll be borrowing your hoodie for a moment.”

Xenon’s eyes—bloodshot red where the whites should’ve been—barely moved to look at Ben.

His muscles kept twitching between swelling and shrinking, and his body trembled violently, as if on the verge of a total meltdown.

And yet, he’d somehow held onto his sanity.

Watching Ben pull off the oversized gray hoodie and put it on himself, Xenon parted his dry lips.

“Y-You… If you do that… then you’ll…”

“You’re using me as bait, aren’t you?”

The words stuck in Xenon’s throat, unable to fully escape.

His nerves were fraying, and even amid the confusion, he understood enough to know he was meant to hide in the collection bin.

But Ben didn’t answer.

Instead, he hurriedly pulled his phone from his pocket and began typing a message.

[Recycling depot behind B-17 Street, outskirts of Posana. Wastepaper collection bin.]

“Keep this phone close, just in case. Someone will come help you soon.”

With that, he shoved the phone into Xenon’s coat pocket.

If Haimar saw the message, he’d definitely come here. Judging from when the call ended, maybe five minutes left.

Ben didn’t believe for a second that sharp guy would get the location wrong, but just in case, the phone was insurance.

“Did he turn into this alley?! You check over there! I’ll go this way!”

“Yes, boss!”

Their voices were already dangerously close.

There was no time left for second thoughts or extra words.

Ben inhaled sharply, then forced Xenon—whom he’d briefly set down—to his feet and shoved him into the waste bin like tossing in a bundle of rags.

“Ghk—!”

Thankfully, the bin had enough paper piled inside to cushion the fall.

Aside from a small groan from Xenon, it made no sound.

Thanks to that, the pursuers didn’t catch on to what Ben had done.

Without hesitation, Ben turned and sprinted toward them to draw attention away.

Even a tiger’s den could be survived if you kept your wits about you. It’s not like he was definitely going to die.

Surely Haimar wouldn’t just help Xenon and leave me behind… right?

If someone asked where that confidence came from, he wouldn’t have had an answer.

Still, he had a feeling.

An unexplainable gut feeling.

“There he is! That rat bastard!”

“One’s missing, boss!”

“The two punks went the other way, remember, you idiot?!”

Two of the thugs spotted Ben and immediately gave chase, barking insults as they ran.

Ben darted through alleyways to draw them further from Xenon’s hiding spot, staying just out of reach and driving the men to frustrated fury.

He could probably lose these two, but if he did, there was a risk they’d stumble upon Xenon.

For now, it was better to keep them glued to him—keep their attention locked down.

Of course, this whole strategy only worked as long as they still believed Ben was the one they were chasing—Xenon.

“Wait a sec, boss! Now that I look closer… I don’t think that’s our guy!”

“What?”

“He’s got the same jacket, yeah, but the pants are different!”

Knew it… couldn’t fool them for long.

He hadn’t had time to fully change, so he’d just thrown on the same jumper for disguise.

Not a perfect trick, and clearly, these guys weren’t complete idiots.

The moment they realized Ben wasn’t Xenon Finaca, his role was finished.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Not yet.

He had to stall.

“I just wanna ask—why are you even chasing him?”

Ben stopped, keeping a safe distance, using the question as a way to buy time.

The men scowled, clearly irritated.

“Eh? Kid, this whole thing’s just how it goes around here, ya know? If it weren’t for that goddamn woman, none of this would’ve happened… Look, it ain’t like we want to do this, so just tell us where the other guy is while we’re still being nice.”

“Yeah, boss is right. We’re not gonna kill him or anything. All we gotta do is watch him and record some stuff, that’s it. Why make it harder on yourself?”

That “woman” they mentioned—she must’ve been what Xenon meant earlier.

The cause of all this.

What the hell did she do to Xenon to make them monitor him?

Record him?

“Just thinking about it pisses me off again! If it’s observation, why not just lock the guy up?! That bitch’s got some real twisted tastes!”

“Hey now! Watch your mouth, boss! We owe her, remember?”

The man called boss made a sour face but shut up at his underling’s reminder.

Ben wanted to coax more information out of them, but something about the way they talked, their looks… it was strangely familiar.

“…Where’ve I seen your face before?”

Apparently, the feeling wasn’t one-sided.

The man’s brow furrowed with suspicion.

“……”

Ben couldn’t place it, but he’d definitely seen them somewhere.

The thug was clearly trying to do the same—staring at Ben’s face, digging through old memories.

“Hey… wait a second! Boss, isn’t he the guy from last time, our turf—?!”

Recognition struck.

“That’s right! You bastard! The one who wrecked shit in Zone 11!!”

…Crap.

Ben remembered Zone 11, too.

The hell he’d gone through with Zereno Osel—getting drenched, barely escaping by driving through waterlogged streets.

Why did I even talk to them?

Regret hit instantly.

The “boss” looked like he’d just had the whole memory flood back in full color.

His face turned red with rage, gathering up all his fury like he was ready to explode.

“My men busted their asses ‘cause of you! And you just ran like that?! You’re dead, punk. Don’t even dream about going home tonight.”

“That’s right, boss! Let’s teach him a lesson!”

Unless something had changed since last time, these guys were espers.

The fact that this whole nightmare was replaying felt like some cruel joke from the heavens.

Ben’s goal was to keep them distracted—but he never expected to do it like this.

Should he be happy? Or devastated?

With a bitter smile, Ben said nothing more and turned on his heel, sprinting down the alley.

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