“There are currently missions underway and training in progress. The department I belong to is on this side…!”
“Compared to ten years ago, the number of agents capable of carrying out missions is a tiny fraction — proportionally speaking. The facility isn’t training every single Esper either. Has the number of Guides really dropped that drastically? I don’t want to be called ‘senior’ by someone whose face I don’t even know, so drop that title.”
“Senior…!”
“Perhaps it’s because they don’t know their ‘senior’ very well — this ‘junior’ refuses to listen no matter what. Going on leave feels terrifying at this rate. And another thing — what is your reason for objecting? You’d better present a reason that actually makes sense.”
Rodeo turned his head and directed the question at the murmuring crowd.
“Chalice’s Guiding is top-tier — the finest of the finest. The number of Espers a single Chalice can Guide is considerable. We cannot allow one person to monopolize that.”
An older Esper whose face Rodeo recognized spoke quietly from one side. It was already remarkable enough that this person — someone who had barely scraped by doing only minor missions ten years ago — was still alive. Rodeo raised an eyebrow, expressing his interest.
“I asked for a reason that makes sense, and what you’re throwing out is essentially a tantrum — ‘if I can’t have the Guiding, no one can.’ Coming from someone who hasn’t even used their abilities enough to need Guiding in the past ten years… I wonder if that’s really something you have the right to say.”
“……!”
“…Then, why don’t you turn it around and give me a reason why you need a dedicated Guide?”
As snickers at the older Esper began breaking out among the crowd as well, Ink spoke up. The room went cold and quiet again.
“You already know the reason — you’re not unaware of it. Or… have you forgotten everything from playing your political games?”
“……”
“The lie about ‘working’ at the Academy only fools your son. The same goes for the brainwashing, Ink.”
“It’s Logan. I abandoned that name long ago. By now, you should have adapted to this world.”
“Come on, expecting someone to adapt in just one week is way too Spartan. What would you do if they Rampaged from the pressure?”
“……”
The word Rampage came out of nowhere, and Ink’s mouth snapped shut as a brief silence fell once again.
“Whoever has taken control of both the Academy and the facility has probably already received a report about this — but I caused an incident just days after arriving and began a treatment process. The world has really gotten better. In the old days, if you couldn’t regulate yourself on your own, they’d just throw you straight into a capsule, didn’t they?”
Rodeo called out to the crowd, seizing the moment of silence. This time, those wrapped in confusion and shock began discussing the word Rampage in fairly loud voices. Since the invention of the Decorker, a Rampage had become something closer to a disaster — far removed from everyday life — so the sheer impact of the word itself seemed greater than Rodeo had anticipated.
What Rodeo had already known, on the other hand, was that most of them had lost someone to a Rampage at the facility in their childhood, and that for that very reason, their reaction would be more dramatic than anyone else’s. Even Ink, who had worn a kind yet cold expression, found his face gradually shifting under the weight of that agitation.
“Who knows what kind of effect the Time Warp has on one’s stability? It doesn’t seem like there are many cases like mine, and there don’t appear to be more than a handful of Espers who can influence time, besides Turner.”
“I’m aware. We’ve also approved the most capable person at the facility to be assigned to your treatment.”
“Oh… did you?”
Ink’s face had visibly become complicated. Rodeo, too, felt a momentary discomfort stirring in him at the sight of the Ink he knew — but he quickly steadied himself and raised the pitch of his voice.
“Then let me ask one more thing.”
“A request?”
“I’m going to need Chalice as my dedicated Guide.”
Ink’s brow furrowed instantly.
“…Be honest. I think you already know — the reason he can’t become anyone’s dedicated Guide. And why I can’t stand the sight of it.”
“I know. But as far as I’m concerned… your hatred and resentment — no, even my own hatred and resentment — aren’t worth more than my life, are they?”
At Rodeo’s words, Ink’s gaze snapped swiftly toward Carousel. When Carousel didn’t meet his eyes, Ink spoke to Rodeo in a voice that seemed to be suppressing urgency.
“Your life — I know the situation isn’t that severe…”
“I said it earlier too. Who knows what kind of effect the Time Warp will have? I’ve already gone through something close to a seizure, and for receiving just any Guiding with a machine like this… as you know, I’m far too sensitive to matching rates.”
“…Even without making him your dedicated Guide, we can still designate a Guide for you.”
“From what I’ve seen over the past few days, there are times when Chalice gets pulled for Guiding by the minute. On top of that, me drawing on the last of his depleted energy goes against the guidelines too… And if I — someone who needs to be prepared for ’emergencies’ more than anyone — ends up in a situation where Guiding isn’t available, wouldn’t that be a serious problem?”
At this, Carousel rolled his eyes. So this is what ‘perfectly legitimate,’ ‘never failed once’ looks like. What would have been two major weaknesses in the past seemed to have become great leverage for Rodeo in a facility where Espers held dominance — and Rodeo appeared to have known that all along.
Especially now — their interests were at odds, but Ink had once been his closest friend, and Rodeo’s two weaknesses were precisely the sore spots Ink carried for him. Even from Carousel’s perspective, this demand was landing on the Espers as an exceptionally sound and painfully resonant appeal.
“You know, I don’t mind dying from a Rampage. But in the process… I don’t want to hurt anyone. You know that better than most.”
“……”
“You know it better than anyone, Ink.”
Even with the title he had once rejected, Ink said nothing.
There was nothing wrong with Rodeo’s appeal. In the past, whenever Ink heard news that Rodeo had come to his senses and gotten back on his feet after a seizure, he would drop everything and rush over — and every time, the first thing he asked was always one and the same.
“Is anyone… is anyone hurt?”
Because Ink had always been close to Rodeo, he was frequently injured by Rodeo’s seizures. And so he knew all too well what the aftermath of those seizures was like — and what would happen if Rodeo truly Rampaged.
After Rodeo’s meaningful words, Ink failed to break the silence — and the murmuring Espers began blurting out whatever came to mind in alarmed voices.
Then, among the Espers, someone went so far as to say they might need to prepare the capsules again — the kind of outrageous remark that should never have been uttered — and Ink, who had been lost in thought, finally opened his mouth. His face appeared composed, but in Rodeo’s eyes, the contempt etched into his expression was plain to see.
“Board members.”
“…Director Jet, shouldn’t we at least take some precautions!”
While Rodeo struggled to suppress his laughter at the title Director, Ink’s firm voice resonated through the small room.
“I trust that none of you would be so inclined as to endorse the kind of barbarism that the old facility once practiced — things like capsules. The nauseating notion of an Esper putting a fellow Esper in a capsule is something I cannot permit.”
“Then what do you propose we do with Rodeo!”
“Do? Do, you say. To a colleague who walked through what felt like a war at our side.”
Ink’s piercing gaze silenced the room in an instant.
“What he said is right. Our hatred and resentment — or our desires — cannot be placed above his life.”
With the word desires, Ink’s gaze swept toward several individuals in the crowd, and Rodeo quickly committed their faces to memory. An undisguisable revulsion flickered across Rodeo’s face as he took each one in.
“I intend to review this registration application favorably and approve it.”
Carousel stared at Rodeo with wide eyes. Rodeo, equally surprised, held Carousel’s gaze for a moment — then turned his eyes back toward Ink. A brief glint of a look — one reserved for a trusted comrade — passed across his face.
“Is there anyone who would object to a plan that protects our colleague — his life?”
A few disgruntled faces were unable to completely tuck their puffed-out lips back in, but no one dared raise an objection to Ink’s words. And so the meeting-that-wasn’t-quite-a-meeting seemed to be drawing to a close — but just then, Rodeo felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He checked it, sent a brief text, and opened his mouth once more.
“Shameless as it is, one more thing.”
Ink turned to face Rodeo. His expression was that of someone too tired for any more headaches — yet he did not silence him.
“I heard… there are those who use dangerous substances. Out of fear.”
“……?”
“There’s supposedly a love potion that only works on Guides. There are so many people here with grievances against me — in a situation like this, someone could kidnap Chalice, and I could be attacked in the process, couldn’t I? I do have ears to hear things with… I’ve also heard more than a few stories about Espers who applied for Chalice as their dedicated Guide and were threatened in rather frightening ways by one person or another. In my case, the thing that could be used as leverage against me would be — a Rampage.”
Everyone except Rodeo looked taken aback at the mention of that taboo and criminal act.
“Well, regardless. For everyone’s sake. In the event that a situation arises where I might be pushed into a Rampage, or to prepare for any potential attacks — I’d like to employ a bodyguard. Any objections?”
“…It’s an excessive worry, but the facility doesn’t interfere with privately hired bodyguards. Do as you please.”
“Good thing — I already called one in today. Oh, there they are.”
Remarkably, at the end of Rodeo’s pointing finger was Chalice, walking over with an air of being acutely conscious of his surroundings. Beyond the wide-open door of Carousel’s office, Chalice hadn’t seemed to notice the many eyes on him yet, and was glancing around looking for someone.
“Chalice — it’s been a while since you’ve been to the facility, hasn’t it?”
And when Rodeo called out to Chalice, Carousel’s mouth fell wide open. It was true. It had been so long since a Guide had visited this place — and especially since Chalice had set foot in this building — that the memory of it was practically gone. Carousel’s eyes darted quickly to Ink’s face, and sure enough, Ink was staring at Chalice with a hardened expression, his gaze laced with murderous intent — and so Carousel hurriedly spoke up.
“Ah, well… today’s agenda has been wrapped up then, so shall we all disperse? I also need to submit additional documents, and it is the weekend, so everyone should be heading home—”
“He’ll be accompanying me as a bodyguard every time I come in for treatment from here on out — let’s do introductions. It’s the facility’s hero, whom many of us haven’t seen in ages.”
Chalice, caught in the flood of stares, had stopped short of coming any closer to Carousel’s office and was glaring at Rodeo. Whether fortunately or unfortunately, Chalice wasn’t the only one looking at Rodeo that way.
