Chapter 21: Intuition

At dusk, the Gallois brothers dragged their suitcases into the D-Class trainee observation zone.

The furniture in the zone was simple and austere, resembling a prison cell more than an apartment—this was housing intended for all trainees with a credit rating of D or lower, a status that usually implied an inability to adapt to communal life.

Calvin set his luggage down and lightly brushed the top of the nightstand; it was coated in a thick layer of dust.

"You shouldn't have bothered that girl," Calvin said in a low voice.

"I didn't intend to bother her," Sean replied, appearing to be in high spirits. He tossed his luggage aside and lunged onto his bed in one bound. "I just wanted to follow her and see what she was up to, and then she spotted me... Did you see the look on her face? Oh, right, you couldn't, you were standing behind her the whole time."

Calvin remained silent, simply watching Sean steadily.

"Don't you believe me?" Sean blinked. "I'm not lying this time. I wasn't planning on showing myself, but she started running first, and then she caused quite a scene without rhyme or reason."

"Do you know that the Third District Joint Government is currently fighting the AHgAs for the future custody of Jane Hesta?"

"I know, I looked it up yesterday." Sean lowered his eyes slightly, still wearing a playful smile. "...I know what you want to say. I'll keep a low profile."

Calvin glanced at him. "You had better."

***

Night fell, and Hesta sat at her desk working on a craft. The window was open, and the cool night breeze blew through her short hair, carrying the fresh scent of the distant woods.

She had rearranged the entire layout of the room. The bed, originally by the window, had been moved to the far end, while the wooden side table and rug brought by Mrs. Lavitt were placed directly beneath the window. If one were to sit on that green cast-iron chair, they would find it offered the best view in the room.

To make space for the semicircular table, Hesta had tucked her desk into a corner. Her workspace was now littered with paper scraps and tools; a paper rose with a wire stem was beginning to take shape.

Her expression was so focused that it seemed as if this were the most important, grandest endeavor in the world.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in."

Liz pushed the door open.

She had just finished showering; a towel was draped over her neck, and her damp hair was still dripping.

"What are you making?" Liz asked, curiously surveying Hesta’s room. She first noticed the side table under the window and the double-sided jacquard rug with its white background and small green circular patterns, then spotted the glass bell jar and the paper rose on the desk.

Liz suddenly recalled the passage Hesta had read to her the night before and couldn't help but draw a sharp breath.

"...My god, you really do love Edgar."

Hesta didn't respond, her expression slightly awkward. She stood up to block the glass jar and asked in a low voice, "Are we leaving?"

"Yes, I just came to let you know I'm ready," Liz said with a smile. "You can get ready. Once I go back and change my clothes, I can take you to the gym downstairs."

"All right." Hesta was silent for a moment. "...Do I need to prepare anything?"

"Hah! Just bring yourself," Liz replied. "You don't need to do anything today; just go and take a look, and have some fun."

Ten minutes later, the two appeared in the second-floor gym.

Hesta had expected it to be crowded at this hour, but upon arrival, she found they were alone. Liz led Hesta around the strength-training area, demonstrating the use of the equipment one by one and letting Hesta give them a try.

After a few sets of bench presses at half her body weight, Hesta felt drained. She stood up to walk around and rest, using her hands as fans to cool down. "Is it always this empty?"

"No, usually this is when it's most crowded," Liz said, handing her a bottle of water. "Today is the start of the 'Second Awakening Special Training' for the first-years, so many have requested to head to the training grounds for the follow-up practical exercises."

Hesta suddenly recalled the night before, when Rigo had suddenly opened the door and asked them to keep their voices down.

"Is that what the special training Rigo mentioned yesterday was?"

"That's right."

"Can I go watch?"

"You aren't allowed yet," Liz replied with a smile. "Only trainees in their first year or higher are eligible."

"How long does the special training last?"

"It depends on the trainee. Short sessions only take a few hours, while long ones... well, they can stretch up to seven days."

"Will I be able to use 'Bullet Time' freely after that?" Hesta asked. "Are there any restrictions?"

"There are..." Liz looked at Hesta. "But why did you suddenly think to ask that?"

Hesta frowned slightly. "...I feel like Sean will come looking for trouble again."

"You don't need to be afraid," Liz said earnestly. "If he violates the restraining order and comes to bother you again, he will face immediate incarceration. The base means what it says."

Seeing that Hesta didn't respond, Liz sighed. "Well, I know these promises sound very hollow coming from me—"

"Was it a coincidence?" Hesta asked suddenly. "You arrived almost immediately after I triggered the alarm."

"Yes and no," Liz replied, raising her right hand. "The chip in our arm determines our geographical coordinates and some basic information within the habitat. Because I am your handler, I receive an alert whenever you experience an abnormally high heart rate outside of training hours. I happened to be nearby this afternoon, so I arrived immediately after hearing the fire alarm."

"...I see."

"So, you can trust that the base can ensure your safety. Whenever you fall into a state of panic or distress, there is always someone on their way to you." Liz flexed her arm to show her muscle. "Besides, I know Sean's capabilities. His main strengths are in intelligence gathering and data analysis. As for his close-combat skills, I could take on ten of him."

At this, Liz finally made Hesta smile, yet she could clearly feel that the shadow in Hesta's eyes had not dissipated.

Liz was slightly puzzled and sat down beside Hesta. "You still seem worried."

"Yes," Hesta nodded.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Hesta fell into deep thought. She tried to organize her words but didn't know where to start. For some reason, Sean's insight into her questionnaire responses made her feel deeply uncomfortable, especially after Liz told her that Sean came from the Hecla Wasteland, a place similar to Short-Call Alley.

Sean was like a mirror, suddenly reflecting her childhood in Short-Call Alley. In that place, shrouded in the scent of death, pillage, and decay, constant vigilance and fear of the outside world were a daily routine. After she entered St. Anne's Convent, these shadows had briefly faded, but this deep-seated survival instinct had been almost entirely reawakened by Sean's appearance.

Just as Sean had recognized Hesta at a glance, Hesta had recognized him as well. She was familiar with such greetings and stalking; she was familiar with people like Sean. She was convinced that these rules and regulations could not contain him. This person would definitely appear again, as long as he wanted to.

Liz, who came from Asykia, could not understand this intuition; otherwise, she would not have asked why Hesta was still worried.