There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL)
Chapter 244 - 237. Are You Prepared To Die?

Chapter 244: Chapter 237. Are You Prepared To Die?

Before the esper’s assessment even began, the preliminary interview for the guide was conducted first.

Almost fifty people sent out their application, and through administrative assessment, only thirty of them were called for the interview. They were told to wait inside the small conference room--which obviously wasn’t small considering it was enough to have thirty people and some staff waiting with some refreshment on the side.

As expected of a conglomerate affiliated guild.

More than half of them knew each other already, since they were in a similar age range of early and mid-twenties. They were either came from the same schools, Temples, or belonged in the same community. Different from the guides in the green-zone, those who were active in the lower zones usually came out to gather from time to time.

With this atmosphere, those who knew no one at first soon got sucked into the conversation, which, not surprisingly, revolved around the elusive Captain of the Strike Guide Division.

"He will definitely here today, right?"

"Of course. Why else would the form told us to sign the agreement of being sent to the Deathzone?"

"Have any of you guys see him in person?"

That one question put the other guides in the vicinity in a quiet state and shifted to listen.

"I did," someone said; a woman in her mid-twenty. "I was there in the conference,"

"Ooh!"

The room’s attention was suddenly shifted to this one guide. "How was he? Is it like the rumor?" they asked her.

"If you mean whether he seems intimidating, yes he was," the woman nodded. She still recalled the tall stature clad in black outfit.

"Did he glare at you?" someone asked curiously in a tone that was a mix of worry and excitement.

The woman snorted. "Of course, not."

"Not even when he said all those things?"

"Not even then," she shook her head. "I mean, he didn’t need too, his eyes were plenty cold already. But before then, he was just...so relaxed? It was intimidating because he never seems to get nervous or fazed with anything, and..."

"And?!"

"Hmm...the only word I can used is just...charismatic, I guess?" she shrugged. "I mean, you all read what he said already. But the way he said it is also...made you can’t refute him, I think."

"Ooo..."

Of course, not everyone was there because of the Captain. Some just there for the prospect of better pay and treatment, and some were fresh graduates who either always longed to work in Trinity or wanted to test their lack. These people would just made a group and talked about something else while having their refreshment as they waited, or chose to take a look around for a bit--although their visitation pass only allowed them access to the second floor and the lobby. Even those two floor already worth sightseeing for.

A group used the time to have a bathroom break, in fear of needing to go during their turn later. After relieving their bladder, they were getting out to see the guide that had been the talk of the community--the black-uniformed and blue-eyed guide--walking with the Chief of Trinity’s Guide Department, Abel Hertz. With coffee in their hands, it was clear that they were about to enter the conference room.

They should have immediately ran back to the conference room, but they couldn’t help but took a few seconds being frozen at the sight of the tall guide. The rumour wasn’t exaggerating; the man did look like he was born to be an esper instead. It wasn’t just the posture, but also the aura. Despite the two executives seemed to be engaged in a lighthearted conversation, these guides still felt intimidated.

"W-won’t we get cut off immediately if we’re late?" one of them, who managed to wake up from their stupor, hissed to the other guides, who flinched and finally moved while stumbling.

"Hey, you, the one inside the stall, hurry up!" they didn’t forget to warn the rest of the guides still in the bathroom.

"Thanks! You go first!" the person replied, although of course, the guides outside had no intention to wait for him. The man came out no long after, and calmly walked out of the bathroom to join the other guides in the conference room.

It was when the hall became quiet because everyone had entered the conference room again that another man came out of the same bathroom with a frown and a slightly shaking fingers inside the pocket of his white uniform.

* * *

"Am I that scary?" Zein asked Abel after the last applicant they interviewed before lunch break walked out of the room stiffly.

Abel pressed his lips, trying hard to stifle his laugh. But Zein’s serious gaze quickly broke his attempt and he spent a minute wheezing on his desk as the taller guide watched him in amusement.

"Well," Abel cleared his throat, raising his brow at Zein while trying to give genuine answer. "’Have you prepared yourself to die?’--do you think normal people would be fine after such question? Not to mention you asked that with a piercing eyes. No matter how nice your voice is, people are bound to freak out."

Zein tilted his head. Was it such a weird question, though? Did they think ticking the box saying "I hereby acknowledge the risk of being drafted in the Reclamation Program should I gain a vacancy in this guild" did not come with the risk of death? When the place they would be sent to was called the Deathzone?

Even without that, Zein had always been asked that at least once a year, or when he was about to dive into dungeons, or when he was about to go inside the Deathzone, or...

"Hmm...cultural difference?" he muttered, and Abel laughed again.

"Hey! I too, will piss my pants if I you asked me that kind of question in my early twenties," the shorter guide slapped Zein’s forearm lightly--and groaned when he felt the hard muscle underneath.

No wonder this man could wrapped someone like Bassena Vaski around his fingers.

"Well, we don’t really need people who got paralyzed with that kind of pressure anyway," Zein shrugged. Being surprised and stunned for a while was okay, but continued stammering and freezing after that was a red mark in Zein’s evaluation sheet. "I’m hungry."

"Our lunch is on the way," Abel said, glancing at Alice who was nodding and raising her thumb. "Anyway, you said that, but you also didn’t like the one who immediately said they’re ready."

"Because they were bullshitting," Zein scoffed.

Living in the middle of crooks all his life, Zein knew a liar if he saw one. There was even this one applicants whose answers to their questions were seventy percent lies, filled with curated words that had been carefully prepared to meet their fancy instead of coming from genuine thoughts. He had marked this one to be sent for heavy screening because he even thought the man was a spy.

"I don’t need people with false bravado," Zein tapped on a few names he had given cross signs of disapproval. "Like you said, it’s normal for people to feel weirded out and scared when they are given that kind of question. People who replied truthfully that they are scared of death instead of willingly embrace it have the biggest chance of survival."

"Because they will try their best to not actually die?"

"Yes," Zein smirked and glanced at Abel’s perplexed face. "What--do you think I don’t fear death?"

Abel blinked at that remark, before letting out a smile. "You look like you don’t," he said. But he couldn’t help the small bitterness and worry inside when he recalled the secret incident in the red gate.

He came to know it through Nadine, who couldn’t keep it to herself alone anymore, because she was stressed out about it. Abel and Nadine did tell Zein about it later though, informing the Captain that Abel was now privy to that ’incident’. Fortunately, they told Zein after the man already stable and happily in relationship.

"Well, I do," Zein shrugged, and added with a solemn voice. "I’m scared of stopping existing."

Abel tilted his head. He felt like there was a hidden meaning behind those words, something that wasn’t just encompassed ’death’, but he couldn’t find the wit to ask about it in detail.

"Courage is not about having no fear, anyway, but to stand up to that fear," Zein added with a smirk, circling a few names who boldly told them they were not really prepared to die, and would tried their best to not die even when they were eventually sent to the frontline.

"Who told you that?" Abel arched his brow, looking at the blue eyes dubiously.

Zein chuckled and replied with a smirk. "My old Captain."

"Ah--from the Borderline Unit?"

"Yeah," Zein leaned back and narrowed his eyes at the ceiling. "I wonder what he up to these days? I should send some letters again, since we’ll have to gain his cooperation anyway--oh, finally!"

Zein perked up as the door to their room opened and the staff brought them their lunch from the restaurant below. The applicants, whether they already had their turn or not, were treated to a buffet inside the conference room. Since they still had half of the applicants to be interviewed, Zein and Abel didn’t want to waste time going back and forth from the restaurant, and decided to have their lunch there.

"But Zein, I don’t think we’ll reach twenty for tomorrow’s practical assessment by your standard," Abel chuckled as he checked on Zein’s evaluation sheet. "I mean, it’s not like we’ll really take that much, but it might be hard for the one who passed to take care of dozens of espers."

"I don’t want to include any name I already crossed," Zein said nonchalantly while slicing his steak. "Those people are sus. But I don’t mind giving some chances to the other ones."

"Even the cowardly one?"

"Better than liars. It’s not like they will all be a part of the strike division," Zein shrugged. "And it’s not just my evaluation, right? You have yours, and you can see people’s goodness better than me."

Abel chuckled. Putting him and Zein as assessors instead of someone from HR was strategic move. While Abel was good at discerning people’s good side, Zein was expert in discovering people’s bad side. They truly were excellent partners, complementing each other as if mirroring the uniforms they each wore.

"Well, let’s hope the rest of the applicants satisfy you better,"

Zein narrowed his eyes. "That sounds risque..."

Abel’s laughter filled the room, as the applicants in conference room took their lunch nervously. Twenty nine of them.