Seducing the Guideverse With My System — Raising an Anomaly [BL]

Chapter 122: _A Diversion

After interrogating Cecil to their satisfaction, Devon and Ambrose pulled him out of the suite, taking him to the Guild master.

They’d checked on Orion before leaving, Ambrose whispering to him that they’ll be back in a minute. They could’ve just called security and have them take him... but Ambrose didn’t trust it.

What if Han’s corruption ran deeper? What if he had people working for him even in the Guild’s security team?

As Ambrose and Devon stopped in front of an elevator, the A-Rank dangling between their hands—the former’s phone buzzed. He frowned, pulling it out as the elevator doors slid open.

"Viktor?" He was already rolling his eyes. Devon gave him a look that made him grunt. "Don’t worry. I can answer it later."

"He’s going to keep calling, you know?"

"This is important." They strode into the elevator, dragging Cecil with them. As the doors closed, Ambrose added. "His call can wait."

Devon insisted. "He’s just going to keep calling. And I think you know that as well."

Ambrose was going to argue when the call ceased. There was a beat of silence... then another one rang through, making him sigh.

"See?" Devon smiled wryly. "Come on, answer it." A pause. "I don’t... mind."

That was clearly a lie and Ambrose knew that. He could literally feel the jealousy coursing through the permanent link.

Still, seeing the way Cecil kept silent like a good little prisoner, he shrugged. "Fuck it." He answered the call while Devon stepped forward, clicking on the button leading to the executive floor. "Viktor... hey. Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon."

"You always sound so disappointed when you hear me." The Ice Prince muttered. "Bad time?"

"First off, that’s not true," Ambrose’s cheeks reddened. "Secondly, yeah. It’s kinda a bad time."

"What? Is Mr Killjoy there with you?"

Fortunately, it wasn’t on speaker phone. "Someone broke into my suite. Almost kidnapped Orion too." He just went ahead with the truth. "We’re handling it though."

"Wait—what?" The sound of something shuffling came from the other end. "Is... is he okay? Are you?"

"Yes and... yes. Mostly anyway."

Suddenly, the elevator lights blinked once. Then twice, enough to make all of them—including Cecil—raise their heads.

A bone-numbing chill shot through Ambrose’s limbs. The lights began flickering erratically, the elevator itself trembling a bit.

There was a faint groaning sound of metal scraping against metal, soon getting loud enough for Viktor to hear.

"What’s that sound?"

Ambrose felt his focus escaping and instantly knew this call couldn’t continue. "Viktor... I think you’ll have to call back later..."

"Call back? Why can’t you—?"

He hung up, almost losing his footing as a heavy tremor hit the lift.

Cecil closed his eyes, snapping his neck away. "It’s... It’s him." He stuttered. "He’s here, isn’t he?"

Devon shoved him slightly. "What the heck are you talking about?"

"The little boy!" Cecil snapped. "He’s here to... to finish what he started. I told you... I told you not to let him see me again. I—"

Ambrose sneered. "Can you not? Keep your tantrums to yourself." Then his eyes scoured the elevator, squinting hard at the flashing lights. "What the hell is going on...?"

The lift kept shaking, making Ambrose subconsciously lean back on the wall. He pressed a hand against the elevator’s metal surface, searching for any faults with his spatial awareness.

He soon discovered the issue—and it made his stomach drop.

A microfracture in the upper support line. Barely visible. Something that should’ve taken weeks of stress to form.

But it hadn’t been there seconds ago.

It was as if the damage had... simply decided to exist.

"Well, that isn’t normal at all." He mumbled yet Devon heard.

"What do you mean?"

Before Ambrose could come up with a response, the lights stopped flickering. The shaking ceased as the elevator began its normal ascension. Like it had never happened at all.

Devon blinked with suspicion. "... It’s been ages since any of these elevators had a problem."

Ambrose stayed silent.

He knew very well that that turbulence, as brief as it felt—wasn’t coincidental. If anything, what his spatial awareness sensed was proof that someone was trying to mess with them.

Create a diversion.

The elevator finally came to a halt, the doors opening to reveal the Guild’s executive floor. It was quiet, with high ceilings and massive glass walls at the other end overlooking the city.

"Finally." Ambrose and Devon tugged at Cecil’s arms. They’d barely made a few steps out when the man began convulsing in their hands.

A sharp gasp left him as he fell to his knees, his eyes widened like he was being choked. Ambrose gripped his sleeve, eyes flitting from him to Devon.

"What’s happening to him?"

[WARNING: Target’s aether reserves are destabilising. Critical energy spikes detected.]

[Host is advised to back away as soon as possible.]

The words took a while to register—once they did, his muscles locked. With dread.

"You think acting is going to save you?" Devon scowled, pulling the guy back to his feet. He dragged him by the collar until their faces nearly met. "You’re going to the Guild Master and you’re going to tell him everything you told us. If—"

Ambrose caught Devon by his shoulder, shoving him back with him. He spun his head around, noticing the passing stares of a few staff members on the floor.

"If you’re an energy control type Esper—hurry here! The rest of you evacuate the floor at once!" He yelled. But everyone just looked at him like he’d lost his mind. "He’s about to go berserk!"

That seemed to do the trick.

Most of the people standing around scurried for their offices or the stairs and elevator—anywhere they could run to avoid a supposed berserk Esper.

But what was building up was arguably worse than that.

"Rose?" Devon grabbed Ambrose’s hand as they inched back, watching how Cecil fidgeted on the floor. "H–How do you know he’s—"

"You asked for an energy type?" A lady in her thirties rushed to them, attention already pinned on the victim. "G–Ghost?"

Cecil raised his head, stretching a hand when he saw the familiar face. "A–Ariel. Please... help—argh!" He groaned, some parts of his body going back and forth between visibility and invisibility. "I–I can’t hold on—"

Every hair on Ambrose’s body stood on end. Time seemingly slowed to a snail’s pace as a heavy ringing hit both his ears. He instantly knew what the feeling was—

—Death sense.

"Duck!"

Devon’s grip tightened around his wrist. "Ambrose—"

BOOM!

His voice got drowned by a deafening explosion as a blinding white light swallowed the entire floor.