A Guide to Raising Snake Spirits - Chapter 10

For a class of third-year Tower students with an average age of fourteen, maintaining silence in a classroom was an uphill battle.

A young Sentinel in a grey uniform with red stripes twisted around in his seat to poke the person behind him. “Hey, what’s next?”

The person behind him was a Guide. They all wore identical uniforms, though the colours differed Guides in blue, Sentinels in red.

He was currently packing his things with a level of composure that didn’t match his age. Without looking up, he replied, “It was supposed to be Introductory Piloting, but it’s probably cancelled.”

“Why?”

“Did you forget? Teacher Ge is on leave.”

“That’s boring.” The Sentinel clicked his tongue in annoyance and slumped onto his desk. “Watch them swap it for Digital Theory instead.”

“Just deal with it. And stop shaking my desk—keep it up and you aren’t copying my homework today.”

Midway through their bickering, the young Sentinel’s ears twitched. His acute hearing caught the sound of unfamiliar footsteps approaching. He raised his head to look.

The electronic door slid open automatically. First into the classroom was a pair of polished black high-top boots. Then came the hem of a coffee-coloured trench coat fluttering with the person’s stride. A loosely knotted tie hung over his chest, matched by a black choker around his neck. Above it was a beautiful, smiling face that looked remarkably young, with long black hair pulled back into a low ponytail.

The stranger stepped onto the podium and rapped his knuckles against the desk. Once he had captured the attention of the rowdy young Sentinels and Guides, he spoke.

“Good morning, everyone. I am Guanyue Xi, a Guide.” His tone was slow and deliberate, carrying an air of effortless confidence. “From today, I will be your new teacher for Introductory Piloting.”

“Huh??”

His words were like a drop of water hitting a pan of boiling oil, causing the room to erupt into hushed whispers.

The young Sentinel instinctively turned back to his friend. “How did you not hear about this? Aren’t you supposed to be the class ‘Know-It-All’?”

The Guide behind him: “?”

“Never heard of him  and wait, since when did you give me that nickname?”

The Sentinel gave a sheepish laugh. “Ignore that. But it’s so weird—this teacher is covered in the scent of Sentinel pheromones. If he hadn’t said he was a Guide, I would have assumed he was one of us.”

The Guide ignored him, putting on a pair of plain glasses and refusing to give him another look.

“You. Stand up.”

“…”

The young Sentinel, who was about to reach back and poke his friend again, suddenly realized the room had gone silent. He looked up to find the new Guide teacher pointing right at him, speaking with a calm, unhurried pace.

“We’ll start with you. Let’s do self-introductions in a clockwise direction. I’d like to get to know all of you.”

The boy hadn’t intended to be so obedient, but the moment he met the teacher’s gaze, his animalistic Sentinel instincts flared. An internal alarm went off, and a single sentence echoed in his mind: This teacher is not to be messed with.

The Sentinel student stood up straight. “Oh. I’m Gui Zhao.”

“Sit down. Next.” The Guide teacher narrowed his eyes slightly, and his aura softened once more.

“Zuo Nandi,” the boy behind him said, standing up in turn.

And so it went, person by person. The twenty or so students were finished in no time.

Gui Zhao felt a bit suspicious. He really thinks he can memorize everyone just like that? This guy’s probably just a temporary fill-in putting on an act.

He wanted to turn around and harass his friend again, but he managed to restrain himself—he decided to see what this teacher was made of first.

The Guide teacher opened the lesson plan and projected it onto the large screen. After a ten-minute lecture, he precisely called out several names to answer questions. He matched faces to names without a single error, which effectively served as a warning shot to the class.

The lesson proceeded smoothly until the bell rang. The new piloting teacher adjusted his hair and announced, “Next period, we’ll meet in the specialized lab for simulator training. Class dismissed.”

With that, the new teacher strode out of the room, leaving a classroom full of students who had been holding their breath for the entire hour to stare at each other in shock.

The freshly-minted Guide teacher yanked the tie from his neck and wiped away non-existent sweat from his face.

A few days ago, Guanyue Xi had been worried that Shiraishi Hare wouldn’t be able to separate from the Anaconda, which would have forced him to keep a “hidden house-snake.” Fortunately, on the second morning after the rut ended, he woke up to find the Anaconda coiled into a massive “snake-ball” outside his door. Upon seeing Guanyue Xi, the serpent had affectionately nudged him.

Shiraishi Hare himself had returned to normal. The scattered pheromones were reined in, and more importantly, he could finally wear trousers again. He was no longer walking around the house half-naked with a serpent’s tail like a common exhibitionist.

Regrettably, Guanyue Xi hadn’t witnessed the transformation back into human form, and the Sentinel himself was quite hazy on the details. The whole thing remained a mystery.

But the mystery of Mental Fusion would have to wait, as it was time for school to start.

This morning, Guanyue Xi had brought Shiraishi to the Tower. Standing before the grand, red-brick gates, the Guide couldn’t help but offer a few parting instructions.

“Once you’re inside, if you feel unwell, come find me in the lower-grade wing. And try your best not to get into fights with other Sentinels.”

Shiraishi Hare nodded obediently.

Looking at the Sentinel before him, Guanyue Xi was struck by the sudden, bizarre illusion that he was sending a child to school—though the “child” in question was distinctly oversized. Shiraishi was likely not younger than him, but the amnesia gave him such a lost, bewildered aura that Guanyue Xi couldn’t help but look out for him.

He scanned Shiraishi from head to toe, smoothing out a nearly invisible wrinkle in his uniform. He critiqued the look in his head: Grey and red Sentinel uniform crisp. Face—intimidating but handsome. Messy hair—pulled back neatly.

Shiraishi seemed to have no intention of returning the hair tie. For the past few days, the thing had been practically welded to his head; Guanyue Xi hadn’t seen him take it off once.

He had even witnessed Shiraishi washing his hair in the bathroom (using the same “half-in, half-out” method he used in the kitchen). He’d emerged with his damp hair hanging loose, the hair tie looped around his bony wrist, only to put it right back on once his hair was dry.

Guanyue Xi had swallowed the urge to tell him that constant pulling leads to baldness. He wondered if the Sentinel insisted on keeping the high ponytail even while he slept.

The Tower was massive, divided into residential zones, teaching wings, student centres, and training grounds. It was essentially a small town with its own free shuttle buses.

Guanyue Xi was headed for the lower-grade wing, while Shiraishi was going to the specially created floor for the “Special Class.” They parted ways after entering the gates.

The lower-grade wing was at the very back of the campus. The Guide stood at the bus stop, scrolling idly through his terminal while the electronic display showed the real-time arrival of the next shuttle.

As he was reviewing his lesson plan, a distant commotion caught his ear.

Curiosity is a fundamental human trait, and special species are no exception. Guanyue Xi looked up.

A young, blonde-haired Sentinel was sprinting toward him at top speed, followed by a swarming crowd of people in grey, red, and white uniforms.

“Classmate! Stop!”

The distance was too great to hear exactly what the Sentinel was shouting. He only saw the boy frantically waving his arms as he ran, the sheer desperation on his face nearly becoming a physical force.

A Sentinel running at full tilt is a terrifying thing. Within seconds, he had blurred his way across the distance and was right in front of Guanyue Xi.

Only then did Guanyue Xi see the person chasing him another Sentinel covered in dust, stumbling forward. The pursuer looked as though he was half-paralyzed, yet he was still managing to chase the blonde boy into a state of absolute panic.

Further back were more Sentinels and Tower medical staff in white coats, carrying equipment of all sizes. Some were even brandishing tranquilizer guns.

“GET OUT OF THE WAY!!”

Guanyue Xi finally heard the warning clearly.

The situation was obvious: the dusty Sentinel in the back was in a state of “Mental Frenzy.” He didn’t know what the blonde boy had done, but even though the pursuer had lost all reason, he had made the boy his primary target and refused to let go.

Seeing the black-haired Guide standing there without moving an inch, the young Sentinel panicked.

For God’s sake! He’d shouted at the top of his lungs; why wasn’t this Guide moving? If a frenzied Sentinel landed a single hit, a “fragile” Guide like him wouldn’t survive it.

He turned back to see how close the dusty Sentinel was, only to witness a scene that made his own face ache in sympathy.

The frenzied Sentinel—who had already tanked three or four sedatives without slowing down suddenly hit an invisible “pause” button. His movements seized, his entire body went limp, and he face-planted into the dirt with a sickening thud.

The young Sentinel clutched his own head in fear. Not only did his face hurt in sympathy, but his mental realm began to throb with a phantom pain.

Only a Guide’s mental attack could drop a Sentinel that silently and effectively. Every Sentinel knew how agonizing a mental strike could be.

The “fragile” Guide himself calmly stretched his neck, looking perfectly composed. He hadn’t lashed a Sentinel in a long time and his hands had been itching for a target. Today, a live practice dummy had delivered itself right to his door.

The medical staff swarmed forward with practiced efficiency. They bandaged who needed bandaging, loaded who needed loading, and dispersed as quickly as they had arrived. The path was silent once more.

The young Sentinel tried to sneak over for a free medical check-up, but was rejected with: “We saw everything from the back—you’re just out of breath, you haven’t got a scratch on you. Don’t waste medical resources.” He turned back to find the rare Combat-type Guide, but the man had already vanished.

Guanyue Xi had made his “quiet exit,” a nameless hero… though it wasn’t out of noble intent. He’d looked at the time and realized he’d missed his bus. He was going to be late for class.

He managed to step into the classroom at the exact second the bell rang, narrowly avoiding a teaching mishap on his very first day.

Now that class was over, the Guide stood outside the room and checked the time. Shiraishi’s class should be ending soon too. He wondered if the Sentinel was adjusting to life in the Tower. If he had time at lunch, he’d give him a call.

“Hi, Teacher.”

Guanyue Xi: “?”

Where did this blonde Sentinel come from?

The boy making his “grand entrance” was the same one who had been hunted by the frenzied Sentinel earlier. He had clearly tidied himself up and was no longer looking like a mess.

He tossed his hair back with a practiced, “cool” gesture. “Let’s get acquainted, Teacher.”

Guanyue Xi gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Not interested. Don’t bother me.”

“I’m being sincere! Really! I’m a ninth-year student.”

“How did you even find me?” Guanyue Xi was genuinely curious. Finding a specific Guide in the Tower was like finding a needle in a haystack.

“I have my ways,” the young Sentinel said, making a small gesture with his fingers near his face.

“If you won’t say, I’m leaving.” Guanyue Xi turned to walk around him.

“Alright, alright. I have a specific talent.” The boy tried to play it mysterious, but seeing Guanyue Xi wasn’t buying it, he relented. “I’m quite good with network technology. A Combat Guide with specific traits is actually very easy to track down.”

“I see.” Guanyue Xi smiled. He suddenly felt that itch in his mental tentacles again. He really wanted to find a Sentinel to lash, and the one in front of him was looking like a prime candidate.

Just as Guanyue Xi was deciding whether to have a “satisfying lashing” first or listen to whatever nonsense the boy had to say, a familiar voice cut in.

“Teacher Guanyue. who is he?”

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