* * *
Ben was on edge.
The irony of a man getting flustered over another man wasn’t lost on him, but continuously facing such an inhuman level of beauty couldn’t be good for his mental health.
On top of that, there was something unsettling about that dazzling smile—like a mask hiding something beneath.
He couldn’t let his guard down.
When a firm grip wrapped around his wrist, Ben flinched and turned his head away—only for warm lips to brush against his ear.
“Found you.”
If a voice could be turned into a drug, wouldn’t it sound like this?
It seemed that God had not only given this man an impeccable face but also a voice capable of ensnaring others.
That low, velvety tone, laced with heated breath, curled around his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.
‘Too… too close…’
The soft press of lips grazing his ear sent an unfamiliar sensation rippling through him.
Ben instinctively shrank back, twisting his head away in a desperate attempt to escape.
But the weight pressing him down was even heavier than before—he couldn’t move at all.
He wished someone, anyone, would come and put an end to this situation.
His face felt burning hot, the heat creeping up to his temples, making his already throbbing headache even worse.
Yet, the man paid no heed to Ben’s predicament.
Instead, he enunciated each word against his ear, slow and deliberate.
“My guide.”
A single sentence that shook Ben to his core.
‘Guide? Me? What the hell is he talking about?’
Even in his disoriented state, he could still comprehend the weight of those words.
Ben stared at the man with the most shocked expression he had ever worn in his life.
He probably looked incredibly dumb, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Did this guy even understand what he was saying?
Ben Plaskun had been officially deemed a zero-compatibility F-rank guide.
Even for an esper as low as E-rank, an F-rank guide was practically useless.
He had spent his entire life proving that fact.
A zero match rating meant there was no esper compatible with him.
And yet, this man—this SS-rank esper—was calling him his guide?
A passing dog would laugh at the absurdity.
The man, however, seemed to relish the bewilderment in Ben’s eyes.
He released Ben’s wrist and instead, his fingers trailed slowly across Ben’s cheek.
Ben was too stunned to react, too caught off guard to even register that his arm was free.
The delicate touch left a faint red mark along the shell of his ear, a contrast to the steady, unhurried motion of the man’s hand.
It wasn’t as if the touch itself was inappropriate—it was simply that no one had ever touched him like this before.
His headache pounded harder, the pain growing sharper, almost as if his skull was about to crack.
At this point, he wasn’t even worried about the man’s words anymore.
Could he even walk out of here on his own?
“H-Hey—”
“What are you thinking about? Hm?”
The moment Ben opened his mouth to say something, the man caught his gaze and smiled—his beautiful eyes crinkling at the corners.
Ben squeezed his eyes shut in response.
He never imagined he’d pass out right then and there.
Haimar Eilec’s world was always noisy.
Especially after his awakening, he had never once been free of it.
His heightened senses forced him to perceive things he didn’t want to hear, see, or feel.
Even the thoughts of others.
If only it ended there.
But the heavens had given him far too much.
If he wished, he could destroy anything with just his will.
Hearing minds wasn’t enough—he could even control them.
Even without trying, thoughts poured into him.
One meeting of the eyes, and another’s consciousness lay bare before him.
The weaker their sense of self, the easier it was to manipulate them.
The strongest esper in human history.
The most monstrous aberration.
His excessive power was not a blessing—it was a curse.
His abilities were specialized for killing and destruction.
Murder came easier to him than breathing.
With power bordering on omnipotence, an intellect that surpassed the rest, and an otherworldly appearance, taking the top position in Central was effortless.
There, even killing could be done legally.
Perhaps, from the very beginning, he had instinctively sought out the one thing he excelled at the most.
His voice and expression were always gentle, but there was something inherently warped about him.
His dazzling appearance only served to obscure the disturbing truths he occasionally let slip.
If one were to describe him in full, Haimar Eilec was an incredibly twisted man.
A beautifully crafted doll.
But the most tragic thing was this—
He had never once unleashed his full power.
The first time they tried to measure his esper rank, he hadn’t even gone all out before an entire research facility under Central’s jurisdiction was wiped off the map.
Even then, the material damage meant nothing to him compared to the far more infuriating realization—
His power refused to obey him.
Even though he poured all his strength into keeping himself restrained, it was never enough.
As a result, he bore two sleek, high-grade suppressors in his ears—Central’s latest model of control devices.
They were supposed to help subdue his abilities, but to him, they were no different from the tags on a stray dog.
A mark. A label.
A means to keep him from ripping out someone’s throat at his own whim.
If there was one thing the heavens had not given him,
It was a leash to control himself.
Zero compatibility with any guide.
Another record he set in Central.
It was laughable how desperately they searched for his match.
He didn’t need their statistics or genetic analyses.
If his guide existed, he would know them the moment he saw them.
After all, he himself was an outlier.
His missing piece had to be just as anomalous.
But time proved otherwise.
Through all the passing years, not one person had matched him.
And so, he grew tired.
Even the things he was best at became dull.
Suppressing himself until sleep finally took him, enduring the shallow flattery of people too terrified to show their true thoughts—he was sick of it all.
So, Haimar Eilec made his decision.
To lock himself away in a coffin of iron.
Though he never expected that decision to bring this outcome.
Beep— Beep— Beep—
Haimar slowly opened his eyes.
The familiar scent of antiseptic, dull gray furnishings, the monotonous hum of machines.
Everything pointed to a medical facility.
But the where didn’t matter.
Sitting in a chair by the hospital bed, Haimar leaned back, arms crossed, and turned his gaze to the figure lying in the bed.
A man.
Hazelnut-colored hair that looked soft to the touch, long bangs framing his face, and beneath them—pale lashes that had trembled in the dark.
Memories surfaced.
Eyes of a faint, near-translucent shade, standing out even in the shadows.
Skin, easily marked, as if bruises and redness clung to it effortlessly.
And the lingering sensation at his fingertips—
The soft texture of a man’s cheek, something he had never felt before.
He might look like a critically ill patient lying there, but the man in the bed was merely asleep.
Even if others couldn’t hear it clearly, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the slightly wheezing sound of his breath, so distinctly audible to his own ears, were undeniable proof of that.
Though his body was covered in small wounds, none of them were serious.
If anything, the ones losing their minds right now were those idiots pacing outside that flimsy door.
Their thoughts were obvious—after all, the monster who was supposed to stay quiet had gotten caught up in an unexpected commotion and, in the middle of all that, found a Guide?
Of course, they were rattled.
But even Haimar Eilec hadn’t been any less shocked.
After ruining his own choices beyond repair, he had been so frustrated that the moment he regained consciousness, he’d considered killing every single person in sight, ally or not.
But instead of chaos, what he encountered was something he had never once experienced before.
A feeling he had never once shared with anyone since the day he became an Esper.
He had always been without a Guide, accustomed to suppressing his own power.
The energy brimming within him had always been unstable—limitless yet uncontrollable.
But the moment he made contact with Ben Plaskun, he finally understood, through every fiber of his being, the emotions that others had failed to put into words.
The moment when all his excessive senses, which had only ever spiraled outward, suddenly found peace.
The moment when the chaotic world around him returned to stillness.
The feeling of—‘everything falling into place.’
In that brief instant of tranquility, he knew with certainty.
He had found his Guide.
He had almost killed him, sure.
But those steady, determined eyes beneath such gentle features, the upright nature that contrasted sharply with his docile appearance—it all left a deep impression.
Yet the most fascinating thing of all—
Knock, knock—.
“Uh—excuse me~. It’s Enten.”
His thoughts were interrupted by a man who appeared at the door, arms full of documents.
Dressed in a white coat with thin eyes framed by thick-rimmed glasses, the man was Enten Nebail, the Deputy Director of the Central Branch of Eternita.
He was also an intelligence-type Esper who had risen to his position at a young age thanks to his exceptional abilities.
“Yes, I know. You mumbled outside for thirty minutes.”
Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t exactly something Haimar found impressive.
* * *
