Obsessed with a High-Ranking Esper (BL) Chapter 283: Personal matter

Jian Ci stepped into the elevator, the rain still dripping from his hood, his gaze fixed forward.

Inside the elevator, the soldier shifted uneasily, his eyes flicking toward Jian Ci. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but the suffocating weight of Jian Ci’s aura pressed down on him like a storm. His lips moved, then closed again, the words swallowed by fear.

The elevator shuddered to a halt, and the doors slid open. The soldier stuttered, voice trembling. "W-we are here."

Jian Ci stepped out, his stride deliberate, the soldier trailing behind him. They moved down a narrow corridor until they reached a massive reinforced double door, its surface layered with steel and psychic shielding. The soldier tapped the panel, his voice pitched with respect. "General, your guest has arrived."

From within, a deep voice answered, calm and commanding. "Let him in."

"Yes, General," the soldier replied quickly. He opened the doors, then stepped aside, bowing his head as Jian Ci entered.

The doors closed behind him with a heavy thud, sealing the room. Jian Ci raised his hand, tapping the side of his face. The disguise shimred and dissolved, revealing his true appearance.

The man waiting inside bowed low, his expression solemn. "Your Highness, it is a pleasure to see you after so long."

Jian Ci removed his coat, his movents smooth, his gaze steady. "Uncle Rowen, you play too much."

The General straightened, his eyes shadowed with mory. This was Rowen, brother to the late Deputy Marshal Lance. Lance, who had been second in command to Jian Ci’s mother, who had died during the attack.

Rowen’s scar caught the dim light of the room, a jagged line carved deep across his face, a reminder of battles fought and losses endured. He had been part of another vanguard, far from his brother Lance when the attack ca. That regret weighed on him still. At least if I had been there, we would have died together, he often thought.

Jian Ci didn’t flinch at the sight of the scar. He lowered himself onto the couch with calm composure, his aura heavy but contained. "It’s been a while," he said, voice steady.

Rowen’s lips curved into a smile as he sat opposite him. "Every year you send my favorite things, even when I tell you that you don’t have to."

Jian Ci leaned back, his expression unreadable. "Staying in such a desolate place, you need sothing to look forward to."

Rowen’s smile grew wider, softened by the warmth of the words. He reached for the teapot, pouring out a steaming cup of the sa blend Jian Ci had sent him year after year. He handed it across the table, the fragrant steam curling between them.

"Do your brothers know you are here?" Rowen asked, his tone careful.

Jian Ci shook his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. "No. This is a personal matter, and I would love to keep it that way."

He took a sip, the bitterness of the tea mingling with the anger he had contained for so long. It seeped through the cracks now, impossible to hide.

Rowen’s gaze sharpened. "Your brother said I shouldn’t make her life easier. I am sure he would be satisfied with her current condition."

The "her" was Alarna.

Jian Ci’s jaw tightened, his voice low and cold. "Whatever pain she is in now, from hence forth it should be ten tis more."

Rowen blinked, taken aback. Jian Ci had always been energetic, playful, even unserious to the point of exasperation. But this... this was different. His seriousness was absolute, his fury palpable. It ant he was truly, deeply enraged.

Rowen inclined his head, his voice grave. "I will take you to et her."

***

Alarna’s hamr tapped against the black rock, each strike asured, each breath held. She had learned long ago that the gems buried in these shafts were treacherous. One careless blow, one spark, and the whole tunnel could erupt. The scar carved across her face was proof enough of that lesson.

Her reflection now was a cruel parody of the goddess she had once been in the eyes of so many Espers. Her hair hung in greasy strands, matted with dirt. Her hands, once delicate, were covered in cuts and bruises, her palms hardened with callouses. Her skin was rough, her clothes little more than tattered rags.

She had heard whispers from other won that if she used her charms, the soldiers might grant her easier work. But when she tried, it backfired. Instead of privilege, she had been cast into the worst place, the shafts, and forced to toil alongside the broken and forgotten.

Hatred simred in her chest, sharp and unrelenting. She hated the Jian brothers, wished she could kill them all. And Yu Xi, she hated him most of all. He was the reason she was here, trapped in this pit of suffering and death.

Her hamr swung harder, anger guiding her hand, but mory stopped her. The last ti she struck too hard, the explosion had nearly taken her life. She forced herself to ease her grip, striking gently, carefully.

"Prisoner 2640629."

The voice cut through the dim shaft. Alarna turned, her limp dragging her steps. The other won kept their heads down, their hamrs rising and falling in silence.

The soldier stood at the entrance, his gaze cold. "Follow ."

She gathered her ager tools, her limp slowing her pace. The injury was permanent, another gift from the mines. She said nothing, only obeyed. Her mother had warned her: keep your head down, do as you are told, or life will beco far worse.

So she followed, silent, her eyes lowered. But as they walked, her surroundings shifted. The air grew cleaner, the walls reinforced, the corridors wider.

Surprise flickered across her face. This was no longer the suffocating shaft. This was the upper floor of the prison, the domain of senior officers.

Alarna lowered her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. Finally, she thought, my luck is turning around.

The interrogation room was stark, its walls humming faintly with the low thrum of containnt fields. She sat down, the heavy door shutting behind her with a finality that made her pulse quicken.