Luca was a case who’d been struggling to get by on the October Continent when, after coincidentally making contact with a dispatched Esper, it was revealed he was a guide. He immediately entered the Northern Light he’d only heard about. Everyone at Northern Light treated Luca like some precious treasure. The mere fact of being a guide, despite being only C-rank, had completely changed Luca’s life.
Compared to his previous life of living hand to mouth, it was much more peaceful. However, sometimes he’d recall his days living on the October Continent.
He couldn’t go outside the inner building without special business, and the sunlight was blocked by the high outer building. The only people he encountered were Espers, and they acted like cats enchanted by catnip, making human-to-human interaction impossible.
Even though he only received goodwill, sometimes he missed the conflicts that arose from rubbing shoulders with people. Though he’d been educated that deeply interacting with Espers would likely lead to them becoming obsessed and turning into stalkers, he hungered for proper conversation.
Northern Light emphasized that guides and Espers were partners, but Luca had never thought of it that way. The Espers he dealt with changed every quarter, leaving no room to build affection or connections. Far from partners, they were merely like gears in a giant machine that meshed together at regular intervals before separating.
Having lived on the October Continent, Luca knew how terrible an abyss a guide’s position could fall into if things went wrong, so he considered himself fortunate to receive Northern Light’s protection, but though safe, it was stifling.
A feeling of being isolated, unable to move.
This was an emotion guides commonly experienced, even having a name: ‘guide blues.’ Though psychological therapists visited regularly for counseling, the situation didn’t change anyway. Luca was the type who’d half given up and accepted his circumstances.
But Chris, this Esper, didn’t act peculiar. He didn’t tense up, didn’t act unnecessarily familiar, and always maintained appropriate distance. Like meeting someone for the first time each time. Luca liked that sense of distance.
Because it felt like he could go through that process of talking with distant strangers and building relationships from the beginning, like before he joined Northern Light.
‘Anyway, I’ll only meet this man according to the schedule too.’
Swallowing his habitual disappointment as if it were nothing, Luca asked a question.
“How’s your physical condition?”
Chris answered bluntly.
“I haven’t used my ability once since my last Guiding.”
He didn’t say he didn’t need to receive it. He’d freshly felt from Yont’s reaction that it was perceived as quite strange.
“I was a bit nervous about having to Guide three people, but that’s fortunate. After all, being C-rank, it’s rare to Guide more than one person in a day.”
“You don’t need to overdo it.”
Luca wrinkled his nose.
“This is my job.”
Having said that, Luca began Guiding. The air inside gradually changed. A pressure that only Espers could feel came flooding in.
Chris struggled to swallow the indescribable discomfort and hid his expression.
Guiding always only gave him discomfort, but if he kept avoiding it, he wouldn’t know when or how he might rampage, so he had no choice but to seek out guides.
“Done.”
Luca looked a bit tired. Though Guiding was known not to harm the guide’s body much, mental energy was still consumed. Since they could only Guide with minimal physical contact, the efficiency was also poor.
“Thank you.”
Chris bowed his head slightly while standing up.
“Isn’t it insufficient?”
“Yes. It’s fine.”
Having answered that, Chris turned around and left as if he’d done what he needed to do. At that utterly simple retreating figure, Luca was dazed for a moment before grinning.
An interesting Esper in many ways.
***
Chris began searching the area from District 11 to District 13 as instructed by Yont.
Mainly sweeping through back alleys, he searched for addicts. Sometimes he’d pretend to be a journalist who’d come to cover the November Continent’s poor environment, and occasionally he’d ask about brokers’ whereabouts as if he really wanted drugs.
The problem was that even when he pretended to be an addict, not many people believed him. Even if he deliberately trembled his hands or made his pupils hazy, perhaps due to the unique sense of intimidation Chris gave off, most people tended to avoid Chris.
Since Yuri Sobolev was cracking down on drug distribution, it didn’t seem they’d easily come to sell drugs unless to a familiar face. If this situation continued, it would be troublesome for Chris.
Bzzt—
At that moment, his device vibrated and a message written in code arrived. The decryption program immediately activated. It was an order from Yont informing him of a new broker’s name.
Chris, who’d stopped right there on the spot, opened the map, confirmed the location presumed to be the broker’s hideout, then turned around. Because it was pointing to an alley he’d passed just ten minutes ago.
Moving his steps, Chris hesitated, discovering something across the street.
It was Yuri, whom he hadn’t seen once since that first day visiting Magnolia bookshop.
The man with glasses, muffler, wool coat, and even gloves was exuding an even more ascetic atmosphere than before. Even in the midst of that, the November Continent’s characteristic cold could be felt, making the thin-looking coat bothersome. Perhaps because his pale skin gave a delicate impression—he thought he might fall ill like that.
It was unusual for Chris, who didn’t pay much attention to others’ affairs, even guides’ affairs.
A black car slid to a stop beside him. Judging by its antique appearance, it seemed to be quite old. Not just old, but likely a model produced in the old era.
Usually such cars were expensive. Unless you kept the outer shell and completely remodeled the inside, they were difficult to drive around in, and obtaining a well-preserved car from the old era itself was nearly impossible. Like the rare antiquarian books filling Magnolia bookshop, that black car hardly ever came on the market.
On the November Continent where Espers couldn’t be stationed so reconstruction was slow and the economy was practically at a standstill, the people who could drive around in such a car were naturally limited.
Mafia.
Yuri got into that car naturally.
Tensing at the thought that the car would drive away like this, Chris first operated his device to take a photo. Though he couldn’t capture the license plate since it was moving, he’d still captured the car’s exterior fairly well.
Running it through Northern Light’s database, something came up.
“Aston Martin Classic.”
It had been quite expensive even when first released, and currently there wasn’t a single one listed for sale. All there was, was a personal dealer’s post on a classic car forum that an entrepreneur from the May Continent wanted to obtain the same model for 5,000,000 credits.
Chris hardened his expression. Somehow he had a bad feeling about this.
Opening the map on his device again to check, Chris confirmed that where he needed to go was the alley where Yuri had been standing.
His heart inevitably grew heavy. Though he thought it must be coincidence, it bothered him. The Aston Martin Classic, and Yuri getting into that car. Magnolia Antiquarian Bookshop itself had been a shop that was out of place on that street to begin with.
Striding into the apartment building where the broker’s hideout was located, Chris pressed the bell. But seeing no sound came out, it seemed to be something that had broken long ago.
Rather than backing off, Chris knocked on the door.
“Is anyone there?”
No answer could be heard. Clicking his tongue, he felt something fishy catch at his nose.
‘Blood…!’
A faint smell of blood that ordinary people would have difficulty detecting could be felt from beyond the door.
The subject he needed to investigate might be dead, or dying.
Bang bang bang—!
Chris, who’d been pounding on the door as if he’d break it, discovered a window at the end of the corridor. Opening it and going outside, he stepped onto a pipeline installed on the outer wall.
Being an old building, the externally protruding pipeline was also old. Not particularly thick or sturdy, it creaked under an adult male’s weight. Chris carefully shifted his weight and moved toward the balcony corresponding to the broker’s hideout.
The November Continent’s characteristic winter wind blew fiercely behind him. Perhaps because he’d raised his body’s nerves to the maximum to prepare for a possible fall, a buzzing sound rang in his head. But Chris’s bright blue eyes were fixed on his destination. Slowly moving while grasping slightly protruding parts of the wall with his hands, he finally reached the window.
The inside was dark with the lights off, making it difficult to confirm. A golden gleam circled in the eyes of Chris who’d drawn up his ability. He’d borrowed the eyes of a nocturnal wolf.
He could see something like liquid pooled on the living room floor connected to the balcony. And also something that was probably a human form.
Confirming this, Chris thrust his fist at the window without hesitation. With a crash! the glass shattered. Being a cold continent, they should have paid attention to insulation so the glass thickness would be considerable, yet breaking it with just one punch revealed how strong Chris was.
Creeeak!
The problem was that the pipeline Chris was standing on began to bend with a loud noise.
He nimbly climbed onto the balcony railing and threw his body through the broken window. It happened just before the pipe completely broke and fell below.
