RAVEN Ch 4

There was only one pub inside the Esper-Guide Center. District 13 was smaller in scale compared to other districts. The Espers and Guides stationed here were fewer than in other districts, and the Center’s facilities were also poor. The fact that there was only a single pub was inevitable.

They could go outside the Center, but moving far just to have a drink was troublesome. The plan was to drink just a single glass to calm his unsettled mood, then go up to the dormitory and get some sleep.

As was usually the case, the only pub in the Center was quite crowded. Everyone seemed to be at leisure. With a tired expression, Renault sat at the bar and ordered bourbon.

“What’s with you looking for something strong so early? Did something happen?”

The bartender handed him the bourbon, making conversation. Since all Espers and Guides staying at the Center frequented the place, the bartender naturally knew many of them. And Renault, who was the subject of countless rumors, was no exception. Renault, in turn, knew the bartender of the pub he was a regular at.

“My mood’s a mess.”

“Even living with a face that handsome, your mood can still be a mess?”

The bartender let out a frivolous joke.

“Unlike those guys who get depressed every time they look in the mirror, I thought you’d always be cheerful. If I lived with your face, I would be.”

“Thanks for the effort, but it’s not funny.”

At Renault’s indifferent reaction, the bartender chuckled knowingly, as though he had expected that response. It was then,

“Oh, well, if it isn’t the 2nd Team Leader, who’s usually hard to spot at this hour?”

Someone spoke noisily and slapped Renault’s shoulder. Renault slightly frowned. This was why he didn’t particularly like coming down to the pub. He ended up running into all sorts of people.

“What brings you here drinking alone?”

The one chattering away was Jesus, the Esper 3rd Team Leader. He wasn’t a bad guy, but his excessive chatter was tiring at times.

“My mind’s troubled, so don’t talk to me.”

“You should be thrilled now that you finally got a dedicated Guide, so why the long face? And I heard it’s even an S-rank?”

Without hesitation, Jesus plopped into the seat next to him and kept running his mouth. Renault felt a surge of desire to punch the guy’s jaw for casually bringing up the topic he least wanted to think about.

The bartender, who was pulling out the beer Jesus ordered, raised his eyebrows. His gaze seemed to ask, That happened? Within an hour, word that Renault had been assigned a dedicated Guide would spread through the entire Center.

“But hey, I hear that precious S-rank Guide who’ll be your partner already has quite the reputation?”

“What kind of reputation?”

“A reputation for having a filthy temper.”

Jesus picked up his beer bottle like making a toast, laughing. Renault, on the other hand, rubbed his deep furrowed brow with the tip of his thumb. The worried look was hard to conceal. Having already experienced firsthand how unbearably rude that brat was at their first meeting, he knew it well. Thinking of it again, a fresh wave of gloom surged over him.

“You’ll have a hell of a time serving under a Guide like that.”

Renault pretended not to hear Jesus’s chatter and swallowed his bourbon. He needed to finish quickly and go sleep; otherwise, he’d be stuck listening all night about the S-rank Guide.

“Well, what do you know. Speak of the devil, here he comes.”

But perhaps luck just wasn’t on his side today. Jesus grinned like he had found entertainment. Barely ten minutes after sitting down, it happened.

Unintentionally, Renault’s gaze shifted. As Jesus said, a group of people entered and noisily took a table. Fortunately, it was a seat far from the bar.

They seemed to be from the Guide team; most of them were familiar faces. Having received guiding from the Center’s Guides for a long time due to lacking a dedicated Guide, he naturally knew them. But among them, there was a man whose face was not yet familiar. He stood out distinctly.

A tall man, taller than the others by a head, with a solid build and dazzling good looks. When Renault first saw him, he naturally assumed he was an Esper. That brat. The problematic S-rank Guide.

“Damn it.” Recognizing him, Renault muttered a small curse. Of all times, why did the person he least wanted to see have to show up now. This was exactly why he disliked coming down to the pub. He recalled the thought he had when he’d run into Jesus and lifted his glass.

And yet, with his eyes half-lidded, he couldn’t help but track the S-rank Guide as if scrutinizing him. Even though he disliked him, he couldn’t stop his gaze from straying. Besides, wasn’t this brat going to be his dedicated Guide from now on? Whether he liked it or not, he needed to at least take a look.

The guy wore black slacks and a black, slightly high-necked top. Since even his hair was black, his pale face stood out all the more. The bright smile he had worn in the corridor a few days ago was gone.

Perhaps because of that, his already impassive, handsome face looked icily cold. He resembled a finely crafted porcelain doll. And surrounding this brat were mostly women. Renault let out a dry laugh at the sight of the women gazing at him as though entranced.

“They’ve got no eye for people, huh.”

Of course, Renault himself couldn’t take his eyes off him either, but keeping that fact buried, he clicked his tongue in reproach. Then, as before, he propped his chin and kept observing what the brat was doing.

It was then. Suddenly, a group of men at another table crowded around the Guides’ table and started talking to them. No,that was the wrong expression. They weren’t talking,they were picking a fight.

They were young Espers notorious for their extremely bad attitude. Sure, plenty of Espers strutted around arrogantly, but these guys stood out for always making people frown, so he remembered them.

And now, their target was one person: the S-rank Guide.

“What team are those guys from?”

“5th Team.”

Jesus, who had been gulping his beer, answered. It seemed he, too, was watching them. Renault scratched his temple with his fingertips, debating whether to step in and break it up, or watch a little longer.

“The atmosphere doesn’t look good.”

Jesus must have been uneasy as well, setting down his beer bottle.

There was a regulation that Espers could not use their powers inside the Center. Breaking it could mean being thrown into solitary confinement, or worse, demotion or reassignment. Therefore, fights inside the Center inevitably came down to fistfights.

Even so, Guides rarely picked fights with Espers. Even discounting abilities, the baseline physical ability was different, so it wasn’t a fair match to begin with. Sometimes Espers with dogshit tempers would, the moment they stepped outside the Center, use their powers and crush the Guides who had crossed them.

For that reason, even when conflicts arose between Espers and Guides, most of the time the Guides endured and avoided confrontation. It was unjust, but there was no helping it.

But it seemed that the newly arrived S-rank Guide had already earned the enmity of those punks. The fact that they picked a fight with him the moment he walked into the pub meant this wasn’t the first time.

Well, considering how rudely the brat had treated him, it was obvious. He had probably brought it on himself. Or maybe it was just like-minded types clashing.

Anyway, Espers below B-rank weren’t even given the chance to test matching rates with S-rank Guides. For them, an S-rank Guide was like sour grapes hanging at the top of the vine, unreachable, and they had no reason to curry favor. That was why they dared to provoke him. Pathetic bastards.

Unlike Jesus, who was about to spring up from his seat, Renault simply rested his chin on his hand and observed. He was swearing internally, but he was curious how that insolent brat would respond.

The S-rank Guide sat there, staring at the Espers who were picking a fight with him, with a bored expression. Renault clicked his tongue softly. No matter if he was an S-rank Guide, looking down on Espers would cost him dearly.

“You son of a bitch!”

Sure enough, before long, an Esper’s shout rang out loudly. The situation was playing out exactly as expected. Not only Renault, but everyone in the pub turned their attention toward the fight.

Here we go, Renault muttered inwardly. At that moment, the seated S-rank Guide suddenly reached out and grabbed the collar of the Esper who had been provoking him. It happened the instant he rose from his seat.

Thud, thud,! So fast it was barely visible, the brat who seized the Esper’s collar immediately began throwing punches.

The opposing Esper was shorter than the brat but bulkier. Even so, he couldn’t block the punches raining down on him and was beaten helplessly. From the very first blow to his face, he seemed to have already lost consciousness.

Crunch, the chilling sound of bones breaking rang out. The Esper’s face was rapidly being destroyed, blood splattering in every direction. In an instant, the Esper was a bloody mess, eyes rolling back. And yet the brat Guide kept throwing punches, without a flicker of hesitation.

It was as though he wasn’t beating a person but pounding on an object. The expression on his face, utterly devoid of emotion, was chilling.

Terrified, the other Espers nearby merely stood frozen, faces pale. Not one even thought to stop him; instead, they stumbled back, retreating. It was a pathetic sight. How could such men ever hope to fight monsters?