Don't Support the Guide - Chapter 2

“A photo?”

One of the ladies who had struck up a conversation with him smiled brightly and pulled out a small, palm-sized black-and-white photograph. In it, a curly-haired boy stood stiffly, wearing an awkward expression.

“She sent it to me. They take photos for school admissions, and if you pay extra, you can get a couple of copies.”

“That’s right. I received one too. These days, it’s becoming common for protégés to send pictures to their patrons.”

The ladies around him eagerly took out their own photographs, passing them around the table and chatting animatedly.

Adrian, when the pictures finally reached him, only spared them a brief, indifferent glance, offering a polite, practiced smile before passing them along without actually looking.

That evening, upon returning home, she did something she had never done before—she wrote a letter to her protégé.

To Sammy Nora,

Hello, Sammy Nora.
I always read the letters you send.

Just in case—don’t feel pressured to give me anything just because the other sponsored children are doing so for their patrons.
I don’t expect anything from you.

Instead, use that time to study more and use the money to buy something that makes you happy.

That’s all.

It was, in every way, the perfect letter to make a child cry.

But Adrian had no idea what she had done wrong.

She had written it with complete sincerity. She simply didn’t want Sammy to be swept up in the expectations of others and waste her money on unnecessary things.

It had taken him a full hour to write those six stiff, curt sentences.

Had Melony seen the letter, she would have smacked him across the back and asked if she was trying to hurt the child’s feelings.

Unfortunately, no such intervention occurred.

After that, the letters that had once come about six times a year abruptly dropped to two or three.

Adrian didn’t mind. In fact, she thought it was for the best.

She must have found writing letters annoying all along, she reasoned. By telling her directly, I saved her the trouble.

That was just the kind of indifferent person Adrian was.

***

“What’s her?”

“A gift for you, my lady.”

“You came all the way here just to deliver her?”

“What else was I supposed to do? They’re fresh flowers. If we waited for you to return home, it’d be at least a week—by then, they’d have wilted completely.”

The moment Adrian turned twenty—the eligible age for military service—she enlisted in the special forces without hesitation.

Most people dreaded enlistment, putting it off as long as possible. But for Adrian, it was the opposite.

In truth, the entire empire had been quietly anticipating the day she joined the special forces.

The Brillante family had a long theory of producing exceptional Espers, and Adrian was no exception—she was even more than that. Her power exceeded the highest classification, the Gold rank, placing him in an unmeasurable category altogether.

Espers were beings who could wield supernatural abilities beyond human limits. Their physical capabilities alone were incomprehensibly superior to ordinary people.

As a result, the Esper special forces possessed an overwhelming combat advantage, with individual soldiers far surpassing regular military personnel.

And even among them, Adrian was a standout in every possible way.

“Whoever sent her must not know what kind of person I am.”

Adrian was, through and through, a soldier. Her sharp, emotionless demeanor, cold logic, and natural tendency to keep people at a distance made him unapproachable.

Many had flocked to him upon her enlistment, hoping to use their connections to get closer to the famed Lady Brillante. Some had meticulously prepared ways to ingratiate themselves with him.

But just one look at her icy gaze was enough to crush their spirits and make them give up.

And yet, someone had sent him a bouquet.

As a birthday gift, no less.

The romantic gesture was laughably ill-suited to him.

Who would dare?

A smirk tugged at Adrian’s lips at the thought of the bold, nameless sender.

After dismissing the family knight who had delivered the extravagant bouquet, Adrian returned to her quarters.

It was only then, surrounded by the thick floral scent filling her room, that she noticed a small card nestled among the flowers.

To my Patron,

“…Sammy?”

Adrian wet her dry lips.

You told me to buy something that makes me happy, so here is my answer.

Sincerely,
Sammy Nora

“Ridiculous.”

If Sammy had sent it, then it wasn’t a birthday gift.

And yet, it felt exactly like one.

There was no way Sammy could have known her birthday had just passed.

She didn’t even know exactly who her patron was.

Despite all their moral failings, nobles at least had enough conscience to impose certain restrictions. The Sponsorship Association, under the guise of protecting the children, ensured that protégés were never given detailed information about their benefactors.

All they were allowed to know was their sponsor’s gender and family name—nothing more.

Some patrons deliberately revealed their identities to their protégés. Naturally, it was never for pure reasons.

Adrian, however, wished for Sammy to never know who she was.

And yet, by sheer coincidence, she had sent her gift at such an uncanny time.

“…She must have spent a lot.”

Fresh flowers were a luxury—an extravagant indulgence.

In winter, even more so.

Adrian buried her face in the delicate bouquet, inhaling deeply. The scent was almost overpowering, its intensity imprinting itself in her mind.

Strangely, she found himself unwilling to pull away.

She tended to the flowers with great care, keeping them until they had just begun to dry.

Before the petals could crumble completely, she carefully preserved two blooms in a pressed-flower bookmark:

One soft lavender mini delphinium.

One pale pink lisianthus.

After that, Sammy’s letters stopped coming.

No more messages. No more gifts.

And just like that, seven years passed.

***

“What do I do? I’m seriously nervous.”

Samuel glanced at Peter, who was anxiously bouncing on his feet, and let out a quiet chuckle.

They had just completed six grueling years at the special military academy, followed by one year of mandatory unit assignment—a randomly designated placement meant to test them in real combat situations.

And now, at last, they were officially recognized as full-fledged soldiers.

Their time in the field had been shell.

By sheer rotten luck, they had both been assigned to the most dangerous mountain unit, where they had to survive against countless vicious beasts and treacherous terrain.

Their training had been so brutal that, when the time came for their departure, even their veteran superiors—who rarely handed out compliments—offered them words of praise.

“No matter where you two get stationed, you’ll each be worth at least five men.”

Was it really a blessing if it came after grinding them into the dirt?

Peter no longer cared. The anticipation of finally moving forward with his life had him practically glowing with excitement.

“We actually graduated. We actually got our official assignments!”

“And we’re in the same unit again.”

“I know, right? The gods have no mercy.”

Same hometown. Similar Esper awakening periods. Enrolled in the same academy. Assigned to the same field unit.

Their fates were almost annoyingly intertwined.

Despite their blunt words, the way they grinned at each other revealed the truth—they were best friends, with no secrets between them.

“So, when are you going?”

“Going where?”

“What do you mean, where? It’s time to go meet your patron.”

What an ungrateful bastard! Peter shot him an incredulous look.

Children under noble sponsorship were prohibited from meeting their patrons until they came of age—one of the few safeguards put in place to protect them from potentially predatory aristocrats.

But that protection expired the moment they became adults.

Regardless of whether they were ready or not, the world had a way of forcing them into its merciless expectations.

Customs often carried more weight than laws.

And for sponsored children, one of the strongest customs was that, once they came of age, they were expected to personally seek out their benefactor and offer their gratitude.

As students, they had an excuse to delay it.

But now? That last, fragile excuse was gone.

“The Brillante family… that means your patron is an Esper, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then… you should probably prepare yourself.”

“Why?”

Peter only rolled his eyes in response.

He didn’t answer.

But later, Samuel would find out—from the senior soldiers in his unit.

“So, you’re both sponsored kids, huh?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Your patron—are they an Esper?”

A welcome drinking party had been arranged for the newcomers.

Aside from Samuel and Peter, two other recruits had joined the unit.

Their seniors were intent on making them drink until their legs gave out.

“I’m not, but this guy probably is.”

“You’re quite surprised, aren’t you? Then I suppose our sponsor would really like this one.”

“I know, right? At first, I didn’t even think he was a Guide.”

The senior members’ gazes swept over Samuel.

A body broader and more muscular than most combat Espers. Dark brown hair framing youthful features, with bright green eyes gleaming beneath boyish brows. However, the sharply arched eyebrows and firm jawline gave him the air of a predator.

He was youthful, yet not to be underestimated. In short, he was a provocative beauty—charming enough to make any Esper swallow hard.

“What do you mean by ‘like’?”

“He’s even innocent?”

“Perfect.”

“Absolutely perfect.”

Their words only became more cryptic. One of the seniors, face flushed red from drinking, smirked as he leaned in to whisper into Samuel’s ear.

“Listen carefully. Most noble Espers financially support potential Guides. Do you know why?”

Samuel remained silent.

“Oh, come on. No answer? It’s obvious! They do it so they can receive Guiding in return. Do you have any idea how rare Guides are these days? The higher the Esper’s level, the scarcer they become. That’s why Espers sponsor Guides—to make them pay off their debt with Guiding.”

Espers and Guides were inseparable.

When someone awakened as an Esper, they gained physical prowess, heightened senses, and supernatural abilities far beyond those of ordinary humans. However, such power came at a price.

The more an Esper used their abilities, the more their senses sharpened to inhuman extremes, driving them to madness like a lost beast. In the end, they succumbed to ‘Rampage’—a self-destructive state where their own power tore them apart.

Their bodies, unable to withstand the overwhelming force, would slowly break down, ultimately exploding from the strain.

The only ones capable of preventing her were Guides.

Guides possessed the ability to stabilize an Esper’s frenzied senses and restore their body after using their powers. Her process was known as ‘Guiding.’

For an Esper to survive, a Guide was essential—an absolute necessity.

“Then I suppose I should arrange to meet them soon.”

There was no reason not to. In fact, if the sponsor was an Esper, that would be even better.

For Samuel, it was exactly what he had been hoping for.