***
“Hah, ah, nn……”
Chris writhed in the metal chair he was bound to.
This heat had started right after Yuri left and he woke up from passing out cold. Chris, who had fallen into a state of exhaustion close to unconsciousness due to the guiding, awoke to a low-grade fever that rose sluggishly, as if he were suffering from body aches.
And by the time he realized the source of that heat, he had already been consumed by it. Chris was firmly gripped by the sensation of arousal flowing through his veins.
It wasn’t difficult to guess the reason.
“Kuk, ugh…!”
It was the guiding’s fault.
Since his hands were bound, he couldn’t even properly grip and stroke himself. His legs were also restrained, so the most he could manage was twisting his barely moving thighs and pressing his arms downward to put pressure on his lower body.
It would be wiser to stop and wait for this arousal to subside. Nevertheless, Chris couldn’t let go of this thread of pleasure.
This was beyond his control.
The memory of the pleasure he’d felt the first day he met Yuri, and the night he came back from the bookshop before discovering the bug, drove his body forward.
He couldn’t stop.
He thought it fortunate that Yuri had left early. He didn’t want to show such an ugly sight in front of him. He didn’t have the confidence to endure those blatant violet eyes looking at him in this state.
At the same time, the thought welled up—did he really not know? If he was Chris Danil as Yuri said, if he had been his Esper, wouldn’t he have given him guiding?
Yuri’s Esper.
Just that thought alone made jealousy as fierce as the pleasure surging through his lower abdomen well up. He had never been the host of such intense emotions.
Everything he experienced at Northern Light had been insipid. But on the November Continent, everything was different, everything was a first. Everything about Yuri stimulated Chris and repeatedly drew him to Magnolia Antiquarian Bookshop. Chris found himself standing in front of that shop over and over again as if possessed, not even knowing what he was doing.
It was as if instinct had led him, his body remembering everything even though his mind had been completely wiped clean.
‘No.’
Chris muttered.
This was Yuri Sobolev’s doing. There was no reason to play into the madness of a mafia who couldn’t accept the fact that Chris Danil was dead and gone.
He was a member of Northern Light. Rather than listening to Yuri Sobolev’s words, he should be thinking about how to escape from here.
As if whipping Chris on, a voice from the past returned to his mind.
‘You, you bitch in heat……’
“Hah…!”
His waist reflexively jerked up. The words from his dream, where Yuri had called him a bitch in heat with contempt, circled his ears like an auditory hallucination.
What if that wasn’t a dream but had shown him a fragment of the past?
The hypothetical kept trying to catch up with reality.
His plan to look for an escape route as soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness had been futile. His body was chasing the afterglow and pleasure of the guiding.
It was agonizing that he couldn’t reach the climax he desired just by rubbing and pressing over his clothes. Even when he tried to endure, the pleasure dominated his mind, reminding him of its presence like hundreds of fire ants crawling over raw wounds, gnawing bit by bit.
“Ah, haa. Ngh!”
Chris bit his lip hard. He felt ashamed thinking someone might be listening to the lewd moans escaping from his mouth. Even if he ejaculated into his pants like this, they wouldn’t change a prisoner’s clothes. The moment he untied his legs and tried to take off his pants, he’d kick them away and run.
Even with his head clouded and his vision blurred, Chris still harbored thoughts of escaping from here. He had to run away before that infamous mafia concluded he wasn’t Chris Danil.
The golden time for kidnapping was 72 hours. A witness’s memory fades in 48 hours, and kidnapped hostages often meet their death within the first two days. So after three days of disappearance, Northern Light would give up searching for Chris too.
This wasn’t the June Continent but the mafia’s front yard, and they had already lost Gillian and Aparna. There was no way they’d connect Chris’s capture to Magnolia Antiquarian Bookshop. It was the logical assumption that Chris, who had been sent to search for Gillian and Aparna, had his tail caught.
No matter how great a leap they made, they wouldn’t think that Yuri Sobolev had captured a man with the same name and similar appearance because of his missing dog. They wouldn’t imagine that the ruler of the Winter Continent would be leisurely running something like a bookshop.
Given the circumstances, help was unlikely to reach him, so he had to get out on his own.
‘I’m benefiting from the enemy’s madness.’
Chris thought with his fevered head as he leaned back in the chair. Even after 72 hours passed, he could stay alive until he proved that “usefulness.” As long as he didn’t outright deny being Danil and raise his voice in protest, he was someone Yuri needed to persuade and restore the memories of.
Both being told to find a drug dealer who was already dead. And being called by the name of Danil, who had gone missing and whose life or death was unclear. In the end, didn’t it mean that Yuri Sobolev had become vulnerable?
He didn’t think Yuri was pitiable.
He simply… learned that the Esper named Chris Danil had been a significant presence to Yuri.
Compared to Gillian and Aparna, he was lucky. Wasn’t his life extended because Yuri Sobolev had business with Chris, not Northern Light?
This was a life where death hovered at the edge of a blade. Being able to preserve his life at least meant he could occupy advantageous ground in this crisis.
Was it because of the thought that he might die? His breath, which had been rising sharply, was gradually calming down. His forehead was drenched with sweat, and his lower abdomen was heavy with unresolved desire.
At least he was fortunate not to have shown Yuri the sight of him unable to control himself, groaning in heat from the guiding.
‘That person… dislikes dirty things.’
Chris barely caught the tail end of the thought that suddenly crossed his mind.
It wasn’t hard to guess that Yuri had a cleanliness obsession. However, the problem was that the thought had passed through like the kind of impression someone who had long experienced him, who knew him well, might feel.
The problem was the situation itself where, even though he knew nothing about his past, he found himself listening carefully to even the words spoken by the enemy, wondering “what if?”
He was a member of Northern Light.
“……I have to go back.”
He muttered to himself as if to brainwash himself, as if to overwrite Yuri’s guiding. He had to go back. Where he belonged wasn’t the November Continent but Northern Light headquarters on the June Continent.
He had to carry out his missions without a hitch and rise to higher positions.
That was the only sense of purpose that had led Chris to this day. Even without memories, the one thing certain was his craving for achievement.
Creak—
At the sound of the door opening, Chris quickly raised his head. Yuri was standing there.
It was unclear how much time had passed with the sudden onset of heat. But just Yuri’s return filled him with joy up to the top of his head.
This was because of an Esper’s instinct. Unlike Chris, who felt mild depression whenever he met a guide, other Espers would preen themselves like peacocks or dress up when a guiding schedule was set. There were even some who prepared gifts knowing they’d be caught at inspection and have them confiscated. Like a child going to an amusement park or someone before a date with their lover—joyful, excited, a helpless attraction felt toward a savior.
He heard the sound of Yuri approaching with soft footsteps. Each time his presence drew closer, his heart pounded loudly—thump, thump. Chris couldn’t help but feel flustered at the resonance, greater than the moment he first became aware of his feelings for him.
“You’re already back, where would you go?”
As if he’d heard Chris’s muttering the moment he entered, Yuri spoke mockingly. Bending his waist slightly, he lifted Chris’s chin. Chris reflexively squeezed his eyes shut. He was too close.
“Your ears are red, and your neck is red too. I don’t remember giving you paint or anything.”
Yuri quietly clicked his tongue. Even without looking, he knew well that a body that had been heated couldn’t be the same as before.
Chris simply planned to cover his lower body with both arms and endure until Yuri left.
“That day too. The day you stopped by the bookshop and left.”
Yuri muttered while fiddling with his own ear.
No way…….
“Tell me. After you went to the bookshop, did you always get in heat like this and masturbate?”
Chris’s eyes widened. Right now, he was unknowingly holding his breath.
“With nowhere else to shove it in, whimpering as you rubbed your cock against your palm. With no name to call, just letting out moans.”
The words flowing from Yuri’s refined mouth couldn’t be more vulgar. Chris found himself staring at him in a daze without realizing it.
Even while staring intently at Chris as bewilderment passed through him, Yuri didn’t take back what he’d said.
“I checked and the books were clean. I wondered why you were sweeping up books you wouldn’t even read, but my prediction was slightly off.”
“How… how did you……”
Chris stammered out. His throat felt tightly constricted.
In truth, he had already guessed that it was Yuri Sobolev who had installed the bug. Nevertheless, it seemed he had been unconsciously thinking of ‘Yuri Magnolia’ and ‘Yuri Sobolev’ as separate entities.
