There's No Love In the Deathzone (BL)
Chapter 339 - 331. A Warm Up

Chapter 339: Chapter 331. A Warm Up

Varion blinked, stunned more by the fact that someone slapped him than the pain from the slap itself.

"What..." he was confused for a few seconds before rage took over. "Son of a bitch--you dare--"

SLAP!

Another crisp, loud sound reverberated inside the room and Varion’s head turned in the other direction. The stinging sensation now came from both sides of his face.

"Leave my mother out of your dirty mouth."

The low, cold voice was just as he heard through the television. Varion gritted his teeth and was about to get up, only to realize that his limbs were heavily restricted by pitch-black tendrils. And just as he was about to open his mouth, the same tendrils covered his mouth like a gag.

"You...are stupid, aren’t you?" the blue eyes narrowed. "I’m here standing while you’re on your knees, yet it didn’t occur to you that you’re in trouble? Is it arrogance, or just plain stupidity?"

"Hggh!"

"Ah, whatever," the guide cracked his neck, and without any warning gave Varion another backhand slap. "That one is for you being stupid. In the meantime, try to use your brain while I have my fill, hmm?"

"Stop this! We have agreed! We agreed that you won’t touch him!"

Varion widened his eyes. He knew that voice; that was his father. He tried to turn his head, but his attempt was blocked by another slap.

"No? That wasn’t what we agreed?" the voice that replied belonged to Radia Mallarc. "We agreed for him to apologize, and we agreed to let the one who is wronged decide what is enough."

"Mallarc--"

"Besides, Belthera," Radia grabbed the old man’s shoulder, speaking in a casual tone as if they were just a pair of friends talking about the weather. "There was no agreement about healing him, no? But you wanted us to, no? So there should be a price..." the crimson eyes gleamed. "...no?"

Darleon looked at the summoner and recalled the face of the man who made a threat to him in the fishing pond. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists--the only thing he could do whilst being restrained. "You--you demon!"

"Aww...you make me blush," Radia patted the old man’s shoulder with a refreshing smile.

"Demon, huh?" the guide chuckled; the cold eyes which had been subjected to the son were now found the father. "You can’t be seriously worried about an esper getting hit by a mere guide."

A blatant mockery could be heard from the guide’s low tone, but Darleon could not refute how ridiculous it was to be concerned about an esper in front of a guide. No matter how strong the guide was, it would be his hand that got hurt from hitting an esper’s study physique. As proof, the guide was massaging his wrist right now, causing Darleon’s protest to lodge inside his throat with no outlet.

"But if you’re so worried, then sure," the guide continued, giving his command to the healer. "Shin, heal him."

"Eeh? I don’t want to!" the healer whined, crossing his arms and pouting. But the blue eyes stared at him, and, after three seconds, the healer relented while clicking his tongue. "Tsk--fine."

He stretched out his hand and the slight bruises on Varion’s faded in no time with a glow from healing mana, prompting the esper’s eyes to widen--he certainly didn’t think they would truly heal him.

Once the healing was done, the healer stared at the guide, pursing his lips. "There; are you satisfied?"

"Yes, thank you," the guide smiled; beautiful, if it wasn’t for the coldness in those eyes. "Now, since he’s healed..."

SLAP!

Another cracking sound reverberated inside the room, and once again, Varion had to experience the searing humiliation on his face and his pride.

"Please!"

The pleading voice his father made only hurt Celestia’s Guoldmaster further. "You--you damn guide--argh!"

The rest of his words, however, met their end in another slap. "I told you to use your brain, Va...whatever your name is," the guide sighed exasperatedly. "For you to still run your mouth...it’s like you want me to keep hitting you."

With gritted teeth, Varion snapped through tore lips. "Fuck! You think I will bend by this kind of--"

SLAM!

This time, it wasn’t a slap. No, it was a slap, but it contained much more power than before. The slap did not belong to a mere guide; there was power in it, like an esper’s hit. The force of it sent Varion’s body to the ground.

"I see now why Celestia is the way it is right now," the guide cracked his knuckles, and Varion could feel mana flowing through those arms. "It’s you, huh, the one who taught other espers that guides are nothing more than a convenient tool."

Widening his eyes in shock, Varion tried to get up, only for him to get slammed back to the ground. The power behind that hand felt like something exerted by a four-star esper.

"It’s you, isn’t it, who thinks that guides and civilians are inferior beings just because you can hit them harder than they can hit you?" the guide crouched in front of his face and slapped the side of his head again.

Despite his pathetic state--or perhaps because of it--Varion glared at the blue eyes who looked at him as if he was trash. Vaguely, he could recognize it as the way he usually looked at other people he deemed inferior, but Varion was too prideful to admit that a guide was looking at him in that way.

"Ah, don’t misunderstand," the guide smirked. "I’m not hitting you to show that a guide can hit harder than you. I’m just doing it to vent some anger," he flicked his hand, and the tendrils restraining Varion propped his body up to a crawling position, prompting Varion to get closer to those blue eyes, which gleamed like an eerie light on the darkest night. "You should understand since it’s you who ordered all those operations."

This time, Varion did not give a feisty reaction. His lips were swollen, his cheeks bruised, and amid the throbbing pain, he fell into contemplative silence.

"But I also doing it so you will listen, because you listen to me now..." the guide patted Varion’s cheek mockingly. "You think you’re so superior because you’re an esper? Fine. Let’s see how you fare when I throw you inside the Deathzone without a guide," the low voice hissed as the guide grabbed Varion’s jaw. "See if you’re not crying and begging for one when you’re on the verge of eruption."

"The Deathzone? Aren’t you overestimating him too much?" another familiar voice could be heard, the owner of the pitch-black tendrils. "Just throw him in a random red gate alone. I don’t think he can even reach the boss’s room without any guide."

Varion felt his heart dropped to his stomach. His mind reflexively conjured the image of that exact scenario.

"Ah, sorry," the guide let go of the esper’s jaw. "He’s acting all high and mighty, so I thought he’s at least as good as you."

"Pfft--how can someone ’superior’ crawl to lick a clan’s foot for a bit of prestige?"

What? Varion blinked as finally, he realized that these people knew about the clan, about the House of Horin. He tried to turn his head to see where his father was, just as the healer said something dreadful.

"Hey, this is kind of boring, so I asked the guild and they said there’s a red gate scheduled for a raid in three days, so should we try?"

"Please, stop! I’m sorry!" Varion heard his father’s desperate voice, and, although he felt humiliated because of that pathetic pleading, he forced himself to search for the old man with his eyes. There, a few meters away, Darleon Belthera was being held by summoned phantoms, begging in their direction. "I’ll apologize on his behalf, so please, stop..."

"Belthera," but of course, Radia Mallarc did not see well to it. "That’s not the agreement."

"L-let me go," the old man turned to look at the summoner with a pleading gaze. "I’ll...I’ll talk to him, please! I’ll tell him to apologize properly, just stop hurting him..."

Bassena Vaski snapped harshly with hatred and fury dripping from each word. "Did you say that with full knowledge of what kind of hurt he had inflicted on a lot of people?"

"I..." Darleon opened his mouth, but as his lips began to quiver, the words were lost on his tongue.

"Belthera, it’s not your turn yet, so just stay still for now," the lighthearted tone of the summoner had turned cold, despite the smile and the casual gesture. The man snapped his fingers and a summon provided him with a chair, as well as another one beside him. "Here, have a seat."

Darleon could do nothing when the summoned phantoms led him to the chair and sat him there. He knew that if he tried to fight, it would only harm his son further. With an angry Bassena Vaski here, there was no way Darleon could escape, even if he teamed up with his son.

On top of everything, even he could see that Varion brought this upon himself. What he knew Varion had done, and what the guide was venting about...he knew they were all true. His reaction wasn’t surfacing because he wanted to defend Varion’s action--it was merely a father’s instinct.

"Bas," the guide, who was having his hand healed, cocked his chin toward Varion.

Immediately, the pitch-black tendrils control the captive’s body to a kneeling position, back bent low so the man’s head wouldn’t be higher than the crouching guide.

"Hey, you..." the guide called out, before pausing and turning toward the other two. "What’s his name again?"

"Not important," the Sant-class esper shook his head, and the guide turned toward Varion again.

"Hey, ’not important’," the guide patted the silent Varion. "Do you understand what position you’re in right now?"

Varion gritted his teeth. "You captured me," he hissed. It was clear that he was still thinking he could get out of this situation. "Do you think no one will take action? I am Celestia’s Guildmaster, people will look for me. There will be security footage and--"

"And? They will arrest your father?" the guide raised his brow in a palpable sneer.

"...what?" Varion blinked in confusion, glancing at his father who could only passively watch everything unfolding.

"We’re not capturing you or anything," the guide continued. "Your father delivered you to us."

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Otherwise, you’ll probably go crazy...or die," the guide shrugged. "Your choice, really."

"What...what the fuck is that even--"

"You don’t remember anything, do you? You woke up already here, and the first thing you did was throw up; what do you think happened?"

Varion’s eyes widened as his brain finally whirred. He had been so caught up in the moment and the pain that he hadn’t allowed himself to think--despite the guide telling him to do so since the start.

In his silence, the guide asked. "What is the last memory you have?"