He looked utterly listless, his leather jacket hanging loosely off his shoulders as though he couldn’t even be bothered to wear it properly, revealing the tight black tank top underneath.
Bunny glanced at the pile of empty cans on the floor. She picked one up with a look of disgust and immediately began lecturing him.
"You’re not even an adult yet. Even if these drinks only contain a low concentration of ethanol, you still shouldn’t be drinking so many."
Brandon stared at her without moving.
The short strands of his wolf-tail haircut fluttered across his brow in the wind. He looked as though he wanted to say something.
"Miss Guide... my head really hurts." It hurt so badly that he almost wanted to die. "There’s something inside my head that won’t stop making noise."
There was screaming. Endless screaming.
And beneath it, constant wailing and shrieking—ghostly voices tormenting him until he felt as though he might lose his mind.
Seeing that he didn’t appear to be faking it, Bunny reached over and placed a hand against his forehead.
Damn. His body temperature is really high.
"Don’t move."
She sent a strand of spiritual energy into his mental sea. The moment she entered, it felt as though she’d stepped barefoot into boiling water.
"Jesus! It’s like soaking my feet in a pot of boiling water!"
Bunny hopped from one foot to the other, trying to endure the heat.
The contamination had turned the entire sea a thick, pitch-black color, while the concentration of residual radiation was equally horrifying.
Some of the radioactive particles had already begun eating away at his mental network.
No wonder his head hurt so badly.
These sentinels were in absolute despair. Their instability levels were practically dancing on the edge of the critical threshold.
Without wasting another second, Bunny got to work like an industrious cleaner.
To speed things up, she manipulated several strands of spiritual energy and wove them into a net.
She transformed herself into a hardworking fisherman, casting her mental net again and again to scoop out the contamination.
And surprisingly, it was far more efficient than removing everything one piece at a time.
Sometimes, being lazy really did inspire brilliant ideas.
As enormous amounts of contamination were cleared away, the murky black water gradually regained its beautiful silver color, shimmering beneath the simulated sunset.
Bunny straightened and wiped the sweat from her forehead, letting out a long breath. She was thoroughly satisfied with her handiwork.
When she withdrew from Brandon’s mental sea, the fever had already subsided considerably. He still looked somewhat drained, though.
The radiation had damaged portions of his mental network, and those damaged areas would need time to regenerate.
"You were already this badly off. Why didn’t you tell me?"
He’d just run into the training pod alone and sat there suffering. What if he’d passed out? No one would even have known.
Suddenly, Brandon leaned forward and rested his head on her thighs. Then, as though that wasn’t enough, he wriggled closer and burrowed into her arms.
His soft, boyish voice carried a faint note of grievance, "Because you were going to go take care of someone else."
Take care of someone else?
The way he said it made it sound as though there were some special relationship between them.
Bunny was about to smack that overly flirty "dog head" away when she realized Brandon had already fallen asleep.
His mental domain had gone from being stretched to its absolute limit to suddenly entering a state of complete relaxation.
The resulting surge of dopamine would peak rapidly before gradually settling back down.
"Miss Bunny..."
He slept deeply and peacefully, his entire body visibly relaxed.
The handsome contours of his face softened beneath the training pod’s lights, while his fine bangs fell across his eyes, casting a delicate shadow over the bridge of his nose.
And this grown boy had ridiculously long eyelashes. They were thick, curled, and so dramatic that Bunny almost suspected he’d put on mascara.
His breathing settled into a slow, even rhythm, his chest rising and falling against her.
When Bunny tried to get up, she discovered that he was surprisingly heavy when asleep.
She glanced down at Brandon for a moment before pulling his half-fallen jacket back over his shoulders so he wouldn’t catch a chill.
Kids his age really had no idea how to take care of themselves.
And what on earth did he wear every day?
Tank tops, fishnet shirts, plunging V-necks, and ripped pants that, to Bunny, looked barely distinguishable from cleaning rags...
"Here, puppy puppy..."
She beckoned the dog over and asked it to fetch a blanket for its owner. To her surprise, the dog actually understood.
It quickly returned with a blanket clamped between its teeth.
Bunny carefully tucked Brandon in from head to toe, then leaned against the wall of the training pod and closed her eyes for a short rest.
She had just performed mental soothing for both San and Brandon.
Both were extremely high-ranked sentinels, and as an A-rank Guide, she was already completely exhausted.
After years of going without adequate guidance, these sentinels had developed an almost frightening dependence on a Guide’s mental energy, drawing far more from her than they should have been able to.
She was exhausted.
. . .
The soft sound of the woman’s breathing drifted down from above. The eyelashes of the person resting in her arms suddenly trembled.
Brandon opened his eyes.
He leaned closer and began examining Bunny’s sleeping face from only inches away.
Her eyes.
Her nose.
Her lips.
Even the tiny, almost invisible hairs on her cheeks.
His gaze dropped to the blanket covering him.
Bunny had just tucked it around him herself.
The large dog was lying on her other side, ears standing upright, its expression full of irritation at being awakened.
It sleepily glared at Brandon as if saying:
If you’re not going to sleep, get out.
Something unreadable stirred in Brandon’s silver-gray eyes.
The Guide is even gentler—and easier to fool—than I’d imagined.
So that’s how that moron Orion managed to win her over? By pretending to be pitiful?
What an idiot.
There were countless sentinels in the world who knew how to play the helpless card.
If she fell for every single one of them, wouldn’t she end up comforting every sentinel who acted pitiful?
Such a stupid woman.
Brandon slowly leaned closer to Bunny’s slightly parted lips.
They were right there.
So close.
One more inch, and he could steal the sweet scent that belonged only to her.
His gaze darkened, a faint warmth gradually spreading through his eyes.
Well... It’s a shame to wake someone who’s sleeping so peacefully.
Stealing just one kiss shouldn’t be too much, right?