Chapter 157
Though Claude looked absolutely pissed right now, considering everything, the treatment Oscar received was relatively lenient.
Claude, having casually tossed Oscar aside, turned and approached me, then knelt before me, who was stupidly gazing up at him.
“Are you hurt?”
“Ah, I’m not hurt, but more importantly…”
“Let me see your neck.”
I’m really fine, though.
Eventually, unable to resist his insistence, I let him check my neck as he meticulously inspected it while lifting my chin.
Honestly, it was a bit embarrassing since I was perfectly fine.
…He might find injuries that aren’t even there if he looks this closely.
“Um, Lord Claude… About what happened with Lord Oscar just now…”
“It’s red…”
Seemingly finding even a faint mark, Claude’s face turned visibly upset.
“It doesn’t hurt. That’s not the important thing…”
“Let’s check the back of your head too.”
“No…”
While being examined first by Oscar and now by Claude,
“You, you, Claude you…”
Oscar’s unrelenting voice made Claude’s expression turn cold in an instant.
It seemed he was seriously considering whether to throw Oscar out the window right then.
But Oscar, driven by survival instinct, didn’t call Claude over just to whine or throw a tantrum as usual.
“You… didn’t imprint, did you?”
Both Claude and I turned to look at Oscar, startled by his words.
Oscar’s demeanor was serious. Dilated pupils, twitching lips, and trembling fingertips.
He looked as though he’d received a massive shock, not just from the physical throw but something more.
“Answer me. Did you imprint or not?”
“…What nonsense are you spouting.”
“If you did imprint… why did my guiding work on you just now…?”
At Oscar’s words, Claude’s eyebrows rose.
A puzzled look crossed his face. Clearly, the one who had been guided, Claude himself, had been too focused on separating Oscar from me to notice.
But Oscar was utterly convinced. And it was unlikely that Oscar, having guided thousands, if not tens of thousands of times, could be mistaken.
“If the two of you imprinted, touching me shouldn’t have triggered any guiding.”
“…”
“Could it be that you two… Ah, no way?”
Claude remained silent.
There really wasn’t much to say.
Oscar, Claude, and I were all equally perplexed.
The lack of an answer only solidified Oscar’s conviction further.
“Man, I knew you were out of your mind, but to pay 400 billion Berks for an imprint that didn’t happen…! Go get your money back, right now!”
“No.”
Claude snarled, visibly annoyed.
Oscar, unusually, tried to reason with Claude using a logical and rational argument.
“Think about it… 400 billion Berks is no joke. Apply for the imprint officially and follow the process. If you grease some palms at the top, you could get approval within a year. Can’t you wait that long?”
“No.”
“Why not! What’s not to like!”
“…Rose is mine.”
“Man, you’re insane!”
As the two of them bickered, I found myself slightly distracted.
Oscar guided Claude?
Despite my futile search for non-existent injuries, there was, in fact, a distinct mark on Claude’s cheek, like the inflammation from an allergy.
But it wasn’t actually an allergy, just a mark from being accidentally struck by Oscar’s flailing hand in self-defense.
The guiding allergy that had tormented him ever since his awakening as an Esper. Because of that allergy, where mere skin contact with a guide would cause him terrible pain, Claude developed a compulsion for cleanliness and had refused direct human guiding, facing life-threatening situations several times.
…So why didn’t it affect him this time?
“There isn’t a person at the Center who doesn’t know who this mouse bean is. We could just wait a bit longer, but you can’t wait… Hey, mouse bean, try to talk some sense into this madman. Even if he has a lot of money…!”
“I told you to stop calling me mouse bean…!”
“L-Lord Claude.”
As Claude was about to not let Oscar go, he paused at the sound of my grave voice.
He turned to me with a puzzled look, and I cautiously said,
“Try again.”
“What?”
“Just once more, try touching Lord Oscar.”
Claude frowned deeply.
“No.”
He flatly refused without even considering it.
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