A Guide to Raising Snake Spirits - Chapter 43

“Do you prefer fluffy things?”

After Shiraishi’s line, “You are much more important than those things,” Mitsuki’s brain went blank for a short while.

He instinctively glanced ahead, seeing that Madam Yue Zirong had already scurried far off to the front.

Mitsuki: “So, when that kid asked you how it felt earlier, why did you say you didn’t know?”

The Guide regretted opening his mouth the moment the question left his lips. He had thrown it out on a sudden impulse, and only after saying it did he realize how awkward it sounded.

“It will be better if he experiences it for himself later,” Shiraishi said earnestly, his glossy green eyes staring at Mitsuki without blinking.

“So, you won’t tell him, but you won’t tell me either?” Mitsuki retorted quickly, “I’m not a Sentry.”

The moment the second sentence came out, things got even weirder. Mitsuki self-indulgently tried to hypnotize himself: This is just my mouth acting out on its own, it’s not my fault.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Shiraishi lowered his eyes.

The pain of a shattered mental domain would usually follow one like a shadow, constant and unrelenting. It was like phantom limb pain after an amputation, where painkillers were useless, and one would be jolted awake by the agony even in their dreams.

One either found a Guide who could heal them, or found liberation in death.

Initially, for Shiraishi, Mitsuki was his sweet painkiller. Humans can become addicted to painkillers, so he became addicted to the Guide. However, Mitsuki himself had become much more than that. Even if the “painkiller” stopped working now, Shiraishi had long since reached the point where he could never let go.

Mitsuki could roughly guess what Shiraishi meant, but he didn’t know how to respond to the Sentry.

Shiraishi’s tone sounded light, but the underlying meaning was heavy, yet he didn’t seem to require the Guide to answer.

In the end, Mitsuki just gave a dry response: “Mm.”

The Guide racked his brain trying to think of something else to say, his usual silver tongue failing him at this moment, but then he heard Shiraishi speak again.

“What I’m actually more concerned about is…”

Mitsuki was puzzled: “Is?”

He had thought Shiraishi wouldn’t say anything more, but this sentence piqued his curiosity again.

“Do you prefer fluffy things?” Shiraishi asked.

Mitsuki: “…”

Mitsuki was speechless. He had sensed a vague sense of solemnity from Shiraishi. It turned out it wasn’t about the experimental subjects, but just because he had looked twice at another Sentry’s wolf ears—and a young Sentry whose fur hadn’t even fully grown in, at that?

“Are you going to teach him how to pilot a starship?” Shiraishi followed up immediately.

Oh, and Mitsuki hadn’t refused to teach the kid how to pilot.

The Guide was on the verge of a breakdown.

Mitsuki: “…He’s only twelve or thirteen, right?”

Shiraishi: “Mm.”

Mitsuki: “I don’t have those kinds of predilections.”

Shiraishi: “Good.”

Mitsuki turned his head to stare at Shiraishi: “Then what else do you want to say?”

Shiraishi asked very calmly yet persistently: “So, do you prefer fluffy things?”

 Defeated by the Sentry’s persistence, Mitsuki surrendered. “No, I was just curious, so I looked twice.”

Yue Zirong, walking in front, suddenly burst out laughing.

Mitsuki: “?”

Yue Zirong waved her hand repeatedly, laughing, “You two carry on. Mom didn’t hear anything, really.”

Mitsuki was speechless. He knew that even though his mom was far ahead, she was still eavesdropping.

The Guide had inexplicably been labeled as a “fluffy shota-con” by Shiraishi, and he just wanted to cry out to the heavens that he was being framed.

Furthermore, Mitsuki’s rebuttal felt like punching a cloud. Shiraishi’s expressionless face gave no clue as to whether he believed him or not, and on top of that, he was being teased by his mom.

Suffering in silence was not the Guide’s style. Mitsuki stared at the Sentry’s face, a small thought of revenge forming in his mind.

He suddenly grabbed Shiraishi’s arm and asked, “What if I said I do like fluffy things?”

“Actually, I quite like kittens and puppies. When my spirit animal turned out to be a Black Mamba, I was a little disappointed. I was jealous of people whose fluffy animals feel so good to touch.”

Mitsuki regained the initiative, his voice slow and casual, while he secretly observed the Sentry’s expression to see if there would be any interesting little reactions.

Shiraishi watched as the dark-haired Guide talked about what he liked with a smile, but the mischief overflowing from his grey-blue eyes was like a feather lightly tickling the Sentry’s heart.

Shiraishi: “Mm, I’ll listen to whatever you say.”

The mental link exposed the Guide’s little scheme with total clarity. There was no mental privacy between a bonded Sentry and Guide.

Now, Mitsuki really had punched a cloud.

Having failed to get the reaction he expected, Mitsuki sighed. Knowing that his own restless emotional fluctuations in the link had exposed him, he dejectedly let go of Shiraishi’s hand.

Up ahead, Yue Zirong very uprightly continued looking forward, speaking to her son and his Sentry with the back of her head: “You two in the back can stop the flirting now, we’re about to board the transport vehicle.”

Mitsuki: “Who are you calling flirty?”

Yue Zirong walked with her hands behind her back: “Whoever answers is the one. Young people are just too impatient. Mama will support you, don’t worry.”

Mitsuki: “…”

Mitsuki simply shut his mouth. Anyway, no matter what he said, it would give Yue Zirong room to tease him. The Sentry didn’t like to talk, and Yue Zirong would find no fun in a one-man show, especially since she had to maintain her image on the base.

The three of them silently left the hospital and boarded the transport vehicle to go to Yue Zirong’s office to meet his father.

Guan Ziming’s appearance hadn’t changed much from before. He had traded his favorite “old fisherman” style clothes for casual wear similar to Yue Zirong’s style.

Mitsuki suddenly remembered something and whispered in his mom’s ear: “Mom, by the way, is there anywhere to fish on the base?”

Yue Zirong whispered back: “No. Why else do you think your dad rushes off to fish every time we go back to the Special Star? People who didn’t know better would think the fish pond was his actual wife.”

“Are there no lakes?” Mitsuki found it strange. The lush environment on this planet didn’t look like it lacked water sources.

“There are, but the native creatures on this planet start at one or two star-meters. Ten-plus star-meters are considered small,” Yue Zirong spread her hands. “Who would dare go fishing? They all go hunting in groups using small armored vehicles.”

Guan Ziming just watched his wife and son. They looked like they were whispering, but they were actually teasing him quite brazenly. He gave a light cough.

Mitsuki shifted his attention back to his father, getting straight to the point: “Dad, where did you go? It’s about time you told us about Xu Dian. And why didn’t you reply to any of the messages I sent you before?”

“The terminal signal isn’t good on desolate planets or starships,” Guan Ziming brushed it off lightly, tossing the bait he had prepared to Mitsuki. “I went out for a trip and brought this back for Little Qing.”

Guan Ziming gestured toward an electronic screen on the table, indicating for Mitsuki to pick it up.

Mitsuki complained in his heart: his dad and mom were truly cut from the same cloth, throwing a file over the moment they met. However, he had to admit this bait was attractive enough.

“Is this an apology?” Mitsuki picked up the screen, his mouth not staying idle.

“You’ve tacitly admitted that the Xu Dian matter has something to do with you…” Mitsuki stopped halfway through his sentence.

The first line that caught his eye was: Experimental Subject T-071 Observation Report Based on Records from October 2, 3521, to June 8, 3535.

Mitsuki’s finger froze on the screen, unsure if he should swipe down.

He remembered those numbers; it was the last sentence Teacher Zhang had said, and his father’s hint about his identity was very obvious now.

As for the date, 3535 was exactly the year Mitsuki graduated.

“…Here.”

After a split-second pause, the Guide turned and handed the screen to Shiraishi.

Shiraishi didn’t take it, only saying softly: “You read it.”

The Sentry was willing to lay everything open before the Guide’s eyes, with no secrets and no hidden past.

Mitsuki closed the screen anyway and spoke to Guan Ziming first.

“Were you involved in Shiraishi’s experiment back then?” That was Mitsuki’s first reaction upon seeing the data; otherwise, how would his dad have Shiraishi’s files?

But Mitsuki quickly dismissed his own guess: “No, Mom said you left the institute after I was ten. You weren’t at the institute at this time.”

Mitsuki had too many questions, so many that he didn’t know where to start.

Guan Ziming signaled his son to stay calm and pointed to the sofa nearby: “Let’s start with Xu Dian. The story is a bit complicated, let’s sit and talk. Based on Xiao Xi’s reaction, you must have encountered him quite a few times.”

Mitsuki leaned back against the soft, comfortable sofa and said gloomily, “Mm. I thought it was a coincidence, but it turns out he schemed and racked his brain to force this outcome.”

Guan Ziming ignored Mitsuki’s sarcasm and continued: “I don’t know how much Zirong told you just now…”

Yue Zirong cut in playfully: “I pretty much only said that he knew us and had collaborated with us.”

Guan Ziming nodded: “Mm, then I’ll start from the beginning.”

“Xu Dian and I are the same age. Back in school, his mentor admired me very much and invited me to work at the institute after I graduated. He joined the institute because of his mentor as well. We worked together for a long time and were on good terms. Back then, he had a Sentry he liked, and the feeling was mutual, but their compatibility was low.”

Mitsuki: “I didn’t expect you to tell me gossip about Xu Dian.”

Guan Ziming smiled bitterly: “I wish it were just simple gossip.”

“The whereabouts of that Sentry… were similar to Little Qing’s, but he wasn’t as lucky as Little Qing. This incident was a huge blow to Xu Dian.”

Mitsuki: “…”

Mitsuki made a bold guess: “So he turned to the dark side and wanted to oppose the institute?”

“Pretty much,” Yue Zirong snapped her fingers.

Mitsuki suddenly sat up halfway and swiped a screen out from his wrist terminal: “Wait a minute, Xu Dian left an interstellar coordinate in the thesis he gave me. Do you know where this is?”

Yue Zirong’s original smile froze, and her beautiful brow twitched violently.

Guan Ziming sighed: “That was a hiding place your mom gave him when she was working with him. Just in case things ever came to light, he could go there to take refuge.”

Mitsuki: “…”

Mitsuki turned to glare at his mom.

Yue Zirong’s expression was innocent: “I gave it to him, I just didn’t expect him to use it here.”

“Alright, since we know where Xu Dian is, we’ll just bring him back and everything will be fine,” Guan Ziming said, standing one hundred percent on his wife’s side to smooth things over for her.

Mitsuki turned his glare toward this pair of accomplices. After a while, he frowned: “Wait, I still don’t understand. If it was all to destroy the institute, then why did Xu Dian target Shiraishi?”

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