Don't Support the Guide - Chapter 1

T/N: Hi! This is my 3rd Guideverse book, as I promised myself. Maybe I will be looking for another one to translate. Hope you guys enjoy this book. If you have any suggestions of any Guideverse book out there, do tell me. wink.

The emergence of “sponsorship” as a new hobby among nobles wasn’t all that long ago.

Perhaps about ten years ago—coincidentally around the time the number of Guides began to dwindle dramatically compared to Espers.

For nobles, patronage was a status symbol. The level of comfort they provided for their protégés became a measure of their wealth.

And if a protégé eventually made a name for themselves, the noble who had once been their patron would receive endless praise for their keen judgment.

It was less an act of goodwill and more of a performance—an elaborate roleplay that ultimately deceived the protégés.

“Come on, pick one, Aidy! Hurry! I’ve already narrowed it down to the best candidates!”

That was precisely why Adrian found her situation so distasteful—her cousin enthusiastically waving a thick list of patronage candidates before him.

“Especially Espers! They’re a must! Just think—if one of these kids later manifests as a Guide, you’ll get a personal Guide practically for free!”

Melony leaned in, eyes gleaming with excitement, but Adrian turned her head to the left to avoid her.

“You do realize the number of Guides is only going to keep shrinking, right? By the time you’re an adult, it’ll be even worse! Do you really want to end up losing control and dying because you’re starved for Guiding?”

This time, she turned to the right.

“Adrian! Are you seriously going to ignore me?!”

When her younger cousin continued to brush her off, Melony finally snapped.

Her sharp voice rang painfully in her ears, making Adrian’s expression twist in annoyance. Her crimson Esper eyes narrowed.

“You’re making my head ring, Melony.”

“That’s exactly why you should start patronage now! Look, it benefits them too! Right now, these kids don’t even have a scrap of bread to eat, but thanks to your generosity, they’ll have food, education—the chance to build a whole new life!”

“This isn’t about helping them, though.”

“Does it matter what the motive is? The outcome is still better than doing nothing, isn’t it?”

Melony blinked her round eyes at him.

“If it weren’t for her little patronage game, do you think any noble would willingly throw money at impoverished children?”

Adrian had no counterargument for that. She sighed deeply, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

“Aidy, then why not just be a true benefactor? Forget about having a personal Guide or anything like that. If you really don’t want to exploit them, just sponsor them out of goodwill. Wouldn’t that be fine?”

“No. It’s too much of a hassle.”

“…Next year, you’ll be an adult. What are you planning to talk about in high society with no protégé to your name? You’re already terrible at conversation as it is.”

“If that’s the reason, then even more so—”

“Ah! That was a slip of the tongue! Let me rephrase! How does it make sense for a noble family as prestigious as Brillante to not have a single patronage? Her is your duty, got it?”

That cursed duty.

And yet, it was the one thing that could move Adrian like a conditioned response. Even if she didn’t want it, she always had to follow.

“…Fine. Just one.”

“Yes! Hurry up and take a look.”

Adrian reached for the list, her expression still stony.

It was thick. Heavy. And that weight in her hands made her throat feel dry. Just how many desperate children were waiting for their turn in her elaborate performance?

Anyone with a shred of sense would know that what they needed wasn’t individual handouts but systemic support—actual reforms.

But most nobles had no interest in productive solutions.

Neither did Adrian, for that matter.

At least, she didn’t believe she had any obligation to contribute to the country on a political level. She had already decided to involve himself in dangerous matters—just not that kind.

“I think these two would be good. Their relatives have a theory of Guide manifestation.”

“You told me to forget about Guides,” Adrian said flatly.

“Tch.”

Melony had been pointing out names when she caught the look in her eyes and immediately closed her mouth, pouting.

Adrian aimlessly flipped through the list, scanning rows of names, ages, and addresses of impoverished children.

How was she supposed to choose from her?

If anything, it would have made more sense to rank them by urgency, prioritizing those in the most dire situations.

Then, her gaze caught on a single name.

“Sammy.”

It was an adorably simple name.

“Hm?”

“I’ll take her one.”

“Let me see… Sammy Nora. Eleven years old?”

It was unmistakably a girl’s name, and she was seven years younger than Adrian.

For Melony, who had only been pretending to care about charity while scheming to attach a personal Guide to her cousin, it was a frustrating turn of events.

“Wouldn’t someone more mature be better? And preferably a boy—”

Adrian’s gaze darkened.

“Ah! Never mind, never mind! Sammy it is!” Melony quickly snatched the list away before she could change her mind.

For ordinary nobles, patronage was a performance—a way to play the role of a benevolent savior.

But for Espers, there was another reason entirely.

They sought to secure a Guide.

By sponsoring a child with the potential to become a Guide—or one who had already manifested as one—they could later claim them as a personal attendant. The child, indebted by years of support, would have no choice but to serve their benefactor.

For Espers, who constantly struggled with a shortage of Guides, her was the most efficient and foolproof way to obtain a loyal one.

But it was a practice Adrian detested.

“When do I start sending money?”

“For them, the sooner, the better. Once they receive it, they’ll send you a confirmation letter.”

“…A letter?”

Adrian’s brows furrowed slightly.

“It’s actually kind of fun, you know? You end up getting attached. They send letters about what they did with the money, how their grades improved—every little detail. Makes you wonder if her is what raising a child feels like.”

Melony seemed genuinely amused, even going so far as to playfully smack Adrian’s shoulder.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Just wait until you get your first letter. Then you can decide if it’s ridiculous or if everyone ends up the same way.”

Meanwhile, Melony, having skillfully secured Adrian’s signature on the sponsorship papers, gathered her things and stood up.

“You’re the most dangerous type, you know. It’s always the ones like you—apathetic and reluctant—who end up getting completely caught up with their protégé. And when that happens, here’s no escaping.”

“…Was that a curse?”

“Do I look like someone who wastes time cursing my own cousin? Whatever, I’m done here.”

Adrian let out a quiet chuckle, amused at how thoroughly she had managed to annoy her.

The whole exchange had been noisy and bothersome, but ultimately, it slipped from Adrian’s mind soon after.

That is until a reply finally arrived regarding the money she had sent.

***

To the Honorable Brillante,

Hello, Patron.
Thank you so much for choosing me and for sending such a generous amount of money.

Thanks to you, my mom and dad don’t fight anymore.
I really appreciate it. I’ll make sure to use her money wisely.

Sincerely,
Sammy Nora

Melony always received half a dozen letters at a time, yet Sammy Nora’s letter was absurdly short.

The handwriting was crooked, but it was clear that the child had made an effort to write as neatly as possible.

Adrian sat still, her hand pressed against her lips as she stared at the letter in silence.

There’s a gap.

Between the words “Thanks to you, my mom and dad don’t fight anymore” and “I really appreciate it,” there was an empty space—not quite a full line, but noticeably larger than the other gaps between sentences.

Sometimes, emptiness carries more meaning than words.

Adrian found himself wondering what had been left unsaid in that space.

Had the child hesitated at that moment?

Was Sammy embarrassed by her family’s poverty and dysfunction?

Or had she felt some kind of disillusionment, realizing that something as simple as money had instantly silenced her parents’ fights?

Or maybe… something else entirely?

“…I don’t know.”

Sammy was eleven. That meant seven years ago, she had been a four-year-old child.

Adrian tried to recall what she had been like at that age.

But it was too distant. A blur.

And even if it hadn’t been, their upbringings were undoubtedly worlds apart. Even if they had been the same age, she doubted she could truly understand what went through her mind as she wrote those words.

Still, for some reason, Sammy’s letter lingered in her thoughts at the most unexpected moments.

And when the next scheduled sponsorship date arrived, Adrian sent more money than before.

Hoping that, in her next letter, there wouldn’t be any empty spaces left.

***

“Lady Adrian, you have a sponsored child as well, don’t you?”

A year passed quickly.

At nineteen, Adrian had officially become an adult.

And with adulthood came an endless stream of tiresome obligations.

Events that she had previously been able to slip away from—teas and banquets where her presence had only been a formality—now required him to stay and participate.

It was unavoidable, especially with Melony dragging him around so enthusiastically. She insisted that before her military enlistment, she had to establish himself properly within high society.

Unfortunately, the rest of the Brillante family agreed with her.

Adrian was the only one who didn’t.

“Yes, she’s a girl seven years younger than me.”

Today was yet another one of those unavoidable engagements—a tea party hosted by a well-known marquis’ daughter, renowned for her influence in the social scene.

The gathering was lively, filled with young noblewomen eager to befriend him. Since Adrian rarely attended these kinds of events, many made a point to approach him, eager to make an impression.

She supposed she should be grateful for the attention, but truthfully, she found it overwhelming.

Something about these gatherings never quite felt like they belonged to him.

“Do you receive letters often?”

“Not too frequently, but occasionally. She mentioned she’ll be starting school soon.”

“Oh my, you must be so proud.”

Was she?

Adrian sipped her tea thoughtfully, reflecting on it.

Unlike others who received bundles of letters at a time, Sammy had only sent him about six in total over the course of a year, each one a single-page note.

She usually wrote only when she sent her a larger sum of money than usual or when she gifted something for a holiday.

There was never anything particularly remarkable about them—just simple updates.

Thanks to her support, she had tasted a certain food for the first time. She had bought a warm coat for winter. Small, mundane things.

Oh, but the letter she wrote after receiving a large teddy bear for Children’s Day had been amusing.

—
Thank you for the gift.
I’m a little too old to be playing with something like her, but since my patron sent it, I’ll hug it to sleep every night.
—

If eleven was too old for a teddy bear, then when exactly was she supposed to play with one?

Adrian had let out a quiet chuckle upon reading that letter.

“Have you seen a picture of her?”