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Join the Server“I need to go out for a bit.”
“It’s almost dinner time, Young Master.”
‘And that’s precisely why I’m leaving.’
Since it was the weekend, Ethan couldn’t go to the royal palace, and all he had eaten was salad, a little bread, and water. What had possessed them was unclear, but it seemed the Viscount and Viscountess had once again shifted their intentions, aiming to harm Ethan.
“I’ve never heard of an etiquette rule demanding strict adherence to dinner times.”
“It may not be etiquette, but there can be a family tradition.”
Ethan’s lips twisted at the butler’s words.
“It appears my elder brother, who remains in Veliki, must uphold family dinner times on golden weekend evenings, never attending parties or dates.”
“…He is relatively strict, after all.”
‘The butler is in on it too.’ Ethan’s eyes narrowed. Perhaps all the servants brought from Veliki were complicit.
“I wasn’t aware ‘strictness’ was a euphemism for ‘imprisonment’.”
“Your words are excessive, Young Master. This passes at the Viscount’s manor, but you mustn’t utter such things in front of other nobles who maintain strict weekend traditions.”
His tone was admonishing, yet it carried the unspoken implication: ‘What would a commoner like you know?’ Ethan scoffed, observing the butler who made no effort to hide his disdain.
“So, because of this loyal butler, who insists on reciting family traditions, I can’t even have a dinner date with my partner?”
“I believe there is a joint training exercise today. A public notice arrived this morning, did it not?”
“Then I’ll just say I’m going to meet a friend.”
“Young Master.”
Ethan picked up his tablet.
“While I can’t meet Bliss during training, I can certainly send a message. My foster parents don’t say anything, so couldn’t I at least throw a tantrum, claiming this overly loyal butler is being overprotective?”
“…I will summon a guard.”
After a long silence, the forced answer finally came: he was to take a supervisor with him. Ethan beamed.
“Very well.”
****
The Viscount and Viscountess did not stop Ethan from taking the tram. They merely asked once, indifferently, if he would like a car, fearing the Moore family might raise an issue later. To be precise, their desire for something to befall him as he wandered was evident in their eyes, and Ethan offered a faint smile.
“Though he might be of common birth, with noble foster parents, was it truly necessary to take the tram?”
The guard, who had abruptly found himself accompanying Ethan on the tram, grumbled with clear displeasure. This suggested he hadn’t received orders to harm Ethan. Ethan had chosen the tram out of suspicion that a driving guard might stage an accident, but now realizing that wasn’t the case, he felt a twinge of regret.
‘But this is all because of your employees, who plot suspicious schemes as readily as they eat their meals.’
Thinking this, Ethan retorted with an equally aggrieved tone.
“Indeed. I, too, wonder why I’m going through such trouble.”
These rental mansions on the outskirts of Ashilton were still considered expensive, so while car-moving rails reached nearby, there was no tram stop. They had to walk a considerable distance to reach the merely symbolic stop. It was fortunate it wasn’t midsummer, but the walk only made him hungrier.
Sighing, Ethan took out his tablet and messaged Maxon, with whom he’d planned to meet in front of the academy library. He suggested meeting instead at the tram stop near the riverside restaurant Bliss and he often frequented. Considering Esper Maxon’s appetite, it was a hefty sum, but once the thought took hold, he wanted to properly soothe his stomach, which had suffered through the academy’s budget-friendly meals, with something truly delicious.
“…The ‘friend’ you were meeting, was he a Moore family ‘Esper Guard’?”
After riding the tram, circling the outskirts, and slowly disembarking at a downtown stop, the guard openly displayed his displeasure upon seeing a red-haired Esper raise a hand and acknowledge Ethan. Ethan chuckled silently.
‘Because the intention was to shake him off.’
“Maxon is also a classmate of mine from the academy.”
“If you’re meeting as friends, why is he wearing a guard uniform?”
“He’s also my guard, isn’t he?”
“Even so…”
“Is there a problem? While you, sent by my parents, are excellent, the friend I’m meeting happens to be an Esper, and his profession is an Esper Guard. That’s all.”
“……”
When Ethan had messaged Bliss, expressing his desire to ditch the guard, Bliss—just before entering training—had offered a brilliant, albeit wicked, piece of advice: meet Maxon dressed in a guard uniform. To ditch the current guard and avoid being criticized for wandering around without one, Maxon, as both a friend and a guard, was the perfect fit.
Ignoring the guard, whose face proclaimed his seething frustration, Maxon quickly positioned himself beside Ethan, assuming the role of a ‘friend,’ and whispered, “You look like you really want to punch that guy.”
“Oh, really? He’s always had that expression. So he’s always wanted to punch me?”
Maxon flinched at Ethan’s lighthearted reply, answering a moment later.
“…Somehow, I understand.”
“……Brother, less of the useless empathy, and more of your *real* ability.”
Maxon, chuckling, pretended to throw an arm around Ethan’s shoulder and activated his ability. The moment his lens-covered eyes briefly turned golden before returning to normal,
“How much further do you intend to go?”
The irritated ordinary guard lost his bearings and turned into a left alley. Ethan and Maxon, who had been slightly ahead, naturally took the right path.
“I’ve never seen someone use an interference-type ability so brazenly, right in front of another person.”
As Ethan exclaimed in admiration, Maxon puffed out his chest.
“He’ll probably keep turning left for a while.”
“There certainly are a lot of alleys around here.”
They were laughing merrily as they made their detour and emerged where the restaurant was visible.
Suddenly, a sharp whistle echoed.
“Well, this seems to be an unscheduled scenario.”
A raspy, gravelly voice. A voice difficult to forget once heard, it sent shivers down Ethan’s spine.
As he sharply turned his head, the snarling wild dog emblem came into view. Victor Frankl, clad in an ordinary Procyon Unit Esper suit—unfitting for his rank—watched them with eyes brimming with interest.
“…What is it?”
Maxon, seeing him for the first time, stepped forward warily. The Moore family crest was clearly emblazoned on Maxon’s guard uniform, yet Victor, who was not a regular unit member, paid it no mind, keeping his gaze fixed on Ethan.
“I believe we met near here last time. We’re acquainted, aren’t we?”
“……Is the Commander not in the command center, but instead disguised as a regular unit member, roaming the streets?”
When Ethan reluctantly opened his mouth to ask, Victor let out a snicker.
“We’re an infiltration team. As you know, I’m just a lowly commoner, and I dislike merely giving orders from a high seat.”
“…I see. Then, please continue on your way.”
His eyes, dark as the deep sea, slowly swept over Ethan before curving into a smirk. He feigned friendliness, like a beast luring a child with candy, and spoke to Ethan.
“Meeting like this must be fate, wouldn’t you say? You don’t seem busy; how about we go for a cup of tea?”
“That would be desertion from duty, and during a city defense exercise, no less.”
Upon seeing Ethan’s sharp, immediate refusal, one corner of Victor’s mouth quirked upwards.
“Then, we’ll just include Bliss Moore’s Guide in the training.”
He snapped his fingers and whistled sharply again.
“What in the… !”
Maxon, about to protest, paused and looked around. Half a dozen Procyon Unit members, also clad in Esper suits identical to Victor Frankl’s, had appeared from various alleys. Ethan bit his lip.
“Are you planning to kidnap me?”
Victor merely grinned, as if amused.
“What nonsense. This is training. Not a kidnapping, but merely a ‘simulated kidnapping’.”
Maxon’s face hardened. A simulated kidnapping? It was a ‘kidnapping’ disguised as a simulated kidnapping. Perfect for making an escape by feigning it as ‘training’ if things went awry.
He subtly reached for his communicator button, intending to contact Kyle and the internal guards.
*Crackle*
“Ugh!”
Maxon groaned, feeling a powerful electric current jolt his hand. Moments later, the communicator was snatched by a powerful telekinetic force and flew into the opponent’s hand. Victor stomped on the communicator his subordinate had retrieved, sneering at them with feigned pity.
“It seems not all Moore family guards are exceptional. Those from the unit rarely make such overt mistakes.”
Ethan patted the visibly anxious Maxon and surveyed their surroundings. If it were merely a few Espers, he could have used the gwi to escape, but citizens, aware of the day’s training, were casually passing by without a second glance. In this situation, it would be far better to be kidnapped and taken to an isolated location before unleashing the gwi.
However.
Ethan was hungry. To be kidnapped with a restaurant so close by, the frustration that had been steadily building since his time at the Viscount’s manor suddenly surged, reaching its peak in a single, vehement burst. And in Ethan’s eyes, an ‘acquaintance’ was just stepping out of the restaurant.
“…Please move aside. I have a prior engagement. This is no different than forcibly involving ordinary citizens in a city defense exercise.”
“A prior engagement? You just look hungry.”
‘That bastard.’
Ethan cursed him silently, forced a wide smile, and walked towards the restaurant entrance, calling out to the figure with feigned delight.
“Instructor Huey Cloud! I apologize for my lateness. Please buy me dinner!”
“…What?”
Huey, who had been having a meal with a few company executives for a weekend report, foolishly blurted out a question in return, his face like he’d been struck by lightning.
It was half a gamble. But seeing Huey’s expression turn chilling upon spotting Victor Frankl, Ethan inwardly rejoiced.
‘As expected, Espers don’t seem to get along well with each other.’
As Ethan grinned, plotting his scheme to sow discord, a sound like a lament emanated from Dongja, hovering above his head.
‘Why provoke a hungry Ethan, indeed?’
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