2 Guidance

Two weeks of study have brought you from basic theoretical knowledge to practical application.

Not long ago, you knew nothing about the world of Sentinel Guides, yet now you are required to use your mental energy for guidance—you doubt how useful such spoon-fed theoretical knowledge can be, but clearly, your instructor holds high expectations for you. Although the limits of a guide’s ability are unclear, since you can match with an S-class Sentinel, it’s naturally assumed you possess exceptional talent.

Mental guidance is usually conducted through a handshake, so the input terminal of the testing device is shaped like a palm.

You grasp the device with both hands, focusing your mind and striving to manifest your mental energy, transmitting it to the device through contact.

The numbers fluctuate slowly before finally stopping in the yellow zone.

Barely passing the red “fail” zone...

“...”

After three or four days of practice, it seems the level of Sentinel you can match with has little to do with your mental energy aptitude. You feel you’ve only grazed the surface of mental energy, unable to glimpse its entirety—like a tangled ball of yarn. The academic pressure saps your patience to unravel it.

“There’s progress. At least you passed the minimum standard today, so you can participate in next week’s voluntary guidance sessions.”

Your one-on-one tutor skillfully shuts off the device and records your score. “I’ll sign you up. You’ll get to practice with a real Sentinel.”

“I understand,” you nod.

The weekend has arrived, and the heavy Sentinel Guide coursework can finally be set aside briefly.

As you reach the academy gate preparing to go home, you recognize the car that ferries Sae Itoh waiting outside.

The black window rolls down, and you first see the light brown hair, the smooth forehead with hair swept up, then the handsome young face. He props his chin on one hand, dressed in freshly changed clean clothes, his hair still damp.

“Get in.”

You close your eyes briefly and get into the back seat on the other side.

Thus, the car now holds two sour faces instead of one.

Within three seconds of sitting, you catch his scent. You’re not well-versed in perfumes, but it seems to be a cool pine fragrance, calming and soothing. Yet you don’t recall smelling it on him these past few days...

Strange.

You sneak a glance at Sae Itoh and notice the training bag placed opposite him.

Perhaps he sprayed it on after showering post-training.

“How’s your mental guidance practice going?”

The car is still moving when Sae Itoh suddenly speaks.

Like a parent checking homework. You wonder whether to respond, but he asks before you can decide.

“Barely passed the pass line.”

You wear a defeated expression, hoping to annoy him with your result.

“...Then let’s give it a try.”

Sae Itoh shows surprising tolerance—though, compared to his usual attitude toward teammates, this is remarkable.

He naturally extends his right arm, his large, knobbly hand just before your eyes. Pale and slender fingers with faint pink at the joints, well-trimmed nails, and blue capillaries twisted and prominent on the back of his hand—truly a beautiful male palm.

His expression is indifferent, but his beautifully curved lashes tremble unnaturally. It seems Sae Itoh himself notices, his dark green pupils glance toward the window. But the window is sealed shut; his gaze involuntarily fixes on the reflection of you on the dark glass—

You focus for a moment, then grasp his hand, intending to show him your poor results.

Yet he suddenly shudders as if electrocuted.

“...?”

You’re puzzled.

His Adam’s apple moves, and he uses his other hand to cover the upper part of his face, saying no more.

Being enveloped by a soft, warm guide’s hands, even if not fully covered, sends a strange sensation coursing through your body. Tiny streams of mental energy ooze from the clasp, tingling and stimulating his nerves.

His temples throb rapidly; this bizarre feeling makes Sae Itoh grit his teeth.

You feel yourself almost entering his mental landscape—yet your mental energy can only reach this far. The chaotic mental pathways have become transparent and pure under the guide’s mental energy purification, and you sense your mental guidance is having some effect.

Is this what it feels like to guide a real Sentinel?

Strangely, though your talent isn’t high, why didn’t you realize you were a guide before?

“That’s it,” you release his hand.

“Mm.” He withdraws his hand, his curved fingers curling and stretching as if savoring something.

When you arrive, his captivating green eyes meet yours directly. “We’re here.”

Yet his gaze remains indifferent.

“See you next week.”

* * *

The Football Association, Sentinel Management Division.

The automatic glass doors slide open to both sides as several tall men in suits enter.

Their unmistakably foreign appearance, sharp and aggressive features, put the front desk staff on edge.

“We are from the German Football Association’s Sentinel Management Department, with a prior appointment here,” the interpreter says fluently in a foreign language, then presents relevant credentials.

“This way, please.”

The elevator ascends smoothly, and the highest-ranking official in charge of the association’s Sentinels receives them.

They produce documents from the European Sentinel Management Headquarters, along with the newspaper that caused a stir within the Sentinel Guide community.

“We need a blood sample. We’ll handle cold chain air transport.”

“This... but this is our guide...”

“It’s just for an experiment, and besides, Sae Itoh is also affiliated with the European Spanish team.”

“Sae Itoh has been here recently, right? Once this is done, the European headquarters can arrange for him to train with your team for a while, provide some guidance. I believe the Association President would not refuse.”

“......”

The official falls silent. Their intention is clear: to match it with other Sentinels. But that’s impossible, isn’t it? A guide can only match one Sentinel, the so-called Chosen One. Even if the data is slightly higher, Sae Itoh’s score is 86—that value is unbeatable.

Who knows which German or European leader had a whim to try their luck here.

In the end, the official agrees to the request.

“Our German doctors will fully oversee and supervise this process.”

The two parties shake hands amicably.

“Oh, one more thing. Don’t tell Sae Itoh about this.”