Free Web NovelChapter 21: _Another Man
"Where the hell is Devon?"
"Who?" Ambrose acted confused, folding his arms in front of his chest. "Also, for someone who insisted I stay away from him, you sure do visit a lot."
That made Han stop cold in his tracks. He swerved back to Ambrose whose lips curved into a smile. "I mean, did I lie? You’ve come here two times already today. I’m beginning to wonder if—"
In the blink of an eye, Han closed the distance until their faces were inches apart. His minted breath was harsh on his face. "Don’t play the fool with me, Rory."
As this was going on, Devon and Orion stayed hidden inside the latter’s room. The Esper scanned the room with furrowed brows.
It didn’t look like a space meant for a five-year-old at all. Instead, it felt like Ambrose just decided to give the room to the kid at the last minute.
Now that sounded accurate.
"Who’s the person my Daddy is arguing with?" Orion tapped him as they squatted close to the closet.
Devon turned to the boy, brushing a hand through his hair. "Don’t bother yourself about that, buddy. We’ll be out of here soon."
Despite saying that, Devon’s fists clenched at his sides.
Alisha was right.
He needed to come clean about the permanent link to Han. End things between them once and for all.
"I believe I’ve played fool with you for the longest time," Ambrose snapped back at Han, unaware of Devon’s thoughts. "No more of that. As for Devon, he isn’t here. So..."
He walked to the door, opening it wider for Han to step out. "Leave. Now."
Han’s lips parted.
The unwavering finality in Ambrose’s voice left him stunned. Was this the same man who’d gone through so many pitiful means to get back with him?
His jaw ground but he hid it under an icy smirk. "Someone’s grown a new pair of wings."
Unhurriedly, he moved to the door, each step calculated. Ambrose tried and failed to keep eye contact, gaze darting to the floor.
"Careful though," Han lulled. "Wings are still just wings. They can get clipped... much faster than they appeared."
Ambrose stilled, his fingers twitching.
Fortunately, Han didn’t linger long after that, letting Ambrose shut the door behind him. He exhaled heavily, head resting on the door’s frame.
God was that tense.
Soon another door click sounded from one of the bedrooms. His gaze trailed there in time to see Devon inching toward with careful steps, Orion creeping behind.
"Han." Ambrose breathed before he could ask.
"I know," Devon gave Orion a subtle signal to go watch TV. "I recognise that demanding voice from anywhere."
Ambrose didn’t make a sound or move.
He just stood there, back against his door and eyes pinned on the man who kept bringing him trouble today. He’d let himself get carried away.
Devon was still someone else’s boyfriend.
"I have to go now," Devon said, as if it were his biggest regret. He waltzed to the door carefully while Ambrose backed away for him with a nod.
"Of course."
When Devon got close enough, they stared into each other’s eyes. Ambrose with a deadpan expression that hid behind a crumbling mask. And the Esper with a fire in his eyes that only seemed to glow brighter the longer they stood.
Eventually, Devon swept past him, his scent—pine, lavender and embers long after a fire died—lingering like a ghost before also fading away under a breath.
Ambrose’s eyes flicked briefly to Orion before he attempted to close the door.
[Don’t close that door just yet!]
Huh?
[NEW MISSION ALERT: Get the number of S-rank Esper, Viktor Morozov.]
[REWARD: +200 EP.]
[PENALTY: -5 points from all the host’s current physical stats.]
Cold sweat dripped down Ambrose’s forehead when he saw these screens blinking before him. ’You’re kidding, right? This is—’
[Timer: 15 minutes left to complete the mission. Good luck!]
Heat drained from his entire being the second he saw that last notification.
Fifteen minutes?!
Barely able to think, he swerved his head to Orion. "Little guy?" He snapped his fingers, pulling his attention from the TV as he changed between channels. Seems he finally got the hang of it. "Can you stay in here for like... fifteen minutes? And lock the door too."
Orion nodded after a second. "Okay, daddy. But—"
"That’s great!" Ambrose burst out of the room as his eyes followed the timer. "I’ll be right back!"
Each stride he took as he sprinted down the hallway felt too short. Hopefully, he’s able to find Viktor on time...
★★★★★
"Fuck." He squeezed his lips with a frustrated grunt when he got to the lobby.
Apparently, the Glacier Talon team had left just a few minutes ago.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." he muttered repeatedly, staring anxiously at the system screen. "What can I do? What can I fucking do?"
[12 minutes and 35 seconds...]
"Hey, you’re sure you got the right address?" A male voice whispered somewhere beside him.
He inclined his head enough to see two Hunters gossipping about something. Usually, he couldn’t care less. But what the other one said piqued his interest.
"I’m positive — Pinnacle Pavilion Restaurant. That’s where Hunter Viktor frequents after tough raids."
"And it’s so close to our HQ too."
Ambrose didn’t wait to hear the rest of what they had to say. Fate had been kind enough to give him this chance and he’d be damned if he let it slip.
Literally.
Getting five whole points slashed from his physical stats sounded just as bad as dying.
Pinnacle Pavilion Restaurant was a quiet eating spot just across the street. Although he still had to run for at least four minutes before he got there.
The second he stood before its glass doors, he pushed in a little too hard.
"Whoa!"
Chaos followed as he fell forward, the marble floor imminent in his crash.
Until—
—Yeah, no hands caught him.
He managed to break his fall with his arms, gritting his teeth when a small stinging pain shot through his elbows. Every head in the restaurant whipped to him as one.
"Fuck this..." he grumbled, forcing himself back to his feet and shoving the embarrassment down his stomach.
Six minutes left.
Just when he was about to take another step, however, an amused voice interrupted him.
"Phoenix Flight’s C rank."
When he swerved around his gaze immediately met the icy orbs of the man he was after.
Viktor!
The man left the table, stalking toward him. Unhurried. Almost predatory.
"Following me now, Guide?"
For a fleeting second, Devon’s scent lingered in his mind. The warmth of that kiss.
The way he’d looked at him before leaving.
Ambrose swallowed.
This wasn’t about feelings.
It was survival. It was growth.
It was the system.
His fingers curled into fists.
Then he lifted his chin, meeting Viktor’s icy gaze without flinching.
"I was wondering..." he said, steady despite the timer ticking down in his vision, "can I get your number?"
