A Guide to Raising Snake Spirits - Chapter 7

The Special Star’s skyrail can zip a person to any corner of the city in minutes, but unfortunately, Shiraishi Hare didn’t have a terminal, which meant he couldn’t board.

The only remaining option for transport was an autonomous taxi.

Between almost getting kicked out of a restaurant for lack of a terminal and the automated taxi flagging them for a violation, it was a miracle they made it at all. If the Guide hadn’t called a manual operator and used every ounce of his silver-tongued persuasion to argue their case, they would have been walking home.

“Being undocumented is just too hard.”

Guanyue Xi felt like crying. He was no longer grateful for the Special Star’s technological advancements; he was physically and mentally drained. The undocumented resident himself, however, seemed completely unbothered, remaining in a state of “one-click follow” behind the Guide.

After dragging Shiraishi Hare through what felt like eighty-one trials, they finally arrived at his apartment.

“This is an apartment near the Tower. I’m living here for now. Technically, we’re supposed to stay in the dorms, but senior students can live off-campus if they have a valid reason.”

He gave Shiraishi a brief tour as he activated the biometric lock and pushed open the door.

“I’ll have to record your irises into the system later. It’ll make things easier.”

The first thing to greet them was the entryway—a small space decorated with an electronic painting of a starry sky, giving it a cozy feel.

The smart home assistant chimed: “Guide Guanyue Xi, welcome home.”

As they walked in, light strips along the walls flickered on, illuminating a massive tree branch that stretched across the entire living room. It was a giant, primitive wooden limb that occupied nearly half the room’s upper space. Below it sat standard furniture like a sofa and a coffee table.

“What is this?” Shiraishi Hare asked, his eyes filled with curiosity as he studied the branch.

“Oh, that? That’s my snake’s climbing frame.”

Guanyue Xi released the Black Mamba. The brownish-grey serpent immediately slithered up the trunk, giving a live demonstration of what a “snake gym” looked like. Any pet snake in the neighbourhood would have cried tears of envy.

“If you want one for your Anaconda later, I suppose we could manage it, but given the size…”

The Guide trailed off as he imagined the Anaconda’s ten-metre body. If Shiraishi released that thing, it would probably take over the entire living room.

“It’s fine. He has a tree in my mental realm,” Shiraishi said flatly, showing absolutely no interest in negotiating better benefits for his Spirit Body.

Guanyue Xi led him further inside, pointing out the doors along the hall.

“That’s the bathroom, and that’s the kitchen. There isn’t much in there—just some nutrient solutions and drinks. I don’t really cook.”

Shiraishi watched intently, memorizing the layout of every room.

“If you get hungry later, you can order delivery. oh wait, the terminal.” The Guide tapped his head, remembering the issue. “Right. If you’re hungry, just tell me.”

“My parents are currently touring the galaxy, but they don’t live with me anyway. You can take the guest bedroom.”

At the end of the hall, Guanyue Xi pushed open a door to show Shiraishi his room.

Soft, bright light spilled over the bed, flanked by a desk and a wardrobe. There was a beautiful floor-to-ceiling window that offered a view of the city’s shimmering night lights.

“How is it? Not a bad view, right?” Guanyue Xi asked with a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“It’s very beautiful,” Shiraishi Hare replied sincerely.

The apartment was on a high floor, offering a panoramic view of the architecture. Against the black backdrop of the night, the glowing skyrails interlaced between buildings like silver rivers in the sky. The city lights were a man-made galaxy. Whether or not he had seen such a sight before his amnesia, he was clearly moved by it now.

Guanyue Xi stood by the window as well, his elegant profile reflected in the glass.

“I chose this place specifically because I can see so far. The visibility is great.”

Shiraishi’s gaze unconsciously drifted from the night view to the Guide’s profile, close enough to see the fine, soft hairs on his skin.

“Once your things arrive, you can move them in. If there’s anything else you want to buy, you can add it later.”

Guanyue Xi helped Shiraishi record his iris scan and took delivery of the packages. He let out a tired yawn, his eyes barely staying open. He hadn’t rested well to begin with, and the mental restoration for the Sentinel had drained the last of his energy.

“I’m right next door in the master bedroom. Give me a shout if you need anything.”

Rubbing his eyes and leaving Shiraishi to his own devices, Guanyue Xi went to his room to wash up and crash.

He was a Guide, after all. If the Sentinel harboured any ill intent, he would have sensed it through his mental perception.

“…”

If he had known he would be pinned to his bed in the middle of the night, he wouldn’t have been so confident in his emotional sensing abilities.

The door was slammed open with a brutal bang that sent it echoing against the wall, jolting the sleeping Guide awake.

Before Guanyue Xi could even open his eyes, he was pinned to the mattress by a gust of wind as a heavy, feverishly hot body pressed down on him.

Guanyue Xi: “?”

His black hair was a mess across the pillow, and his shoulders ached from the Sentinel’s tight grip. He could hear Shiraishi’s heavy, ragged breathing, and the scent of bitter coffee pheromones filled the room with overbearing force.

In the darkness, Guanyue Xi met Shiraishi’s glowing green eyes. The Sentinel’s long grey hair fell forward, brushing against his face and making it itch.

I wonder if he even washed his hair, Guanyue Xi thought, a bit of a mood-killer.

“Guanyue Xi…”

He heard the Sentinel whisper his name in a low, ghostly voice. With the dishevelled long hair, he looked like a vengeful spirit coming for a soul in the dead of night.

Guanyue Xi still couldn’t sense any malice. Even in this position, there wasn’t a single shred of intent to harm him coming from the Sentinel.

Instead, the emotions coming from the man were complex—like a tangled ball of yarn a cat had played with, impossible to find the end of. The Guide sifted through them with difficulty, identifying the threads: longing, pain, dependence…

It was an Easy Period (Heat/Rut).

If his arms weren’t being pinned down, Guanyue Xi would have facepalmed.

He should have known. Who could possibly track the cycle of a “wild” amnesiac Sentinel?

The Guide resigned himself to his fate and began releasing his pheromones to soothe the man.

As soon as the scent hit the air, the Sentinel buried his face in the crook of Guanyue Xi’s neck. Like a puppy, he seemed determined to press his nose directly against Guanyue Xi’s skin, his messy grey hair covering the Guide’s face.

Well, he could confirm Shiraishi had showered.

Because all Guanyue Xi could smell now was the exact same shampoo he used.

Shiraishi’s hot breath fanned against his neck, sending a tingling, numbing sensation through him that made Guanyue Xi feel incredibly awkward. He turned his head away, trying to gain some distance.

“Do you think you could get up? I’ll find you some medicine for the rut.”

Guanyue Xi craned his neck, trying to communicate with the man on top of him.

Mid-sentence, the bed dipped under a new weight, and something cold and textured brushed against his hand.

He tilted his head to look.

Great. The Anaconda was out, too.

A massive, dark mass instantly filled the floor space of the bedroom. Half of the Anaconda’s body was on the bed, pressed tightly against him and Shiraishi, while the other half—which couldn’t fit—spilled over onto the wooden floor.

Shiraishi seemed highly annoyed by this. He freed one hand from Guanyue Xi’s shoulder to shove the Anaconda’s head away.

The Anaconda stubbornly pressed back, opening its mouth to hiss at its own master.

Shiraishi snapped his head up and snarled at his Spirit Body.

“Get lost.”

Guanyue Xi was witnessing a miracle—live long enough and you’ll see everything, including a Sentinel having a fistfight with his own soul.

What was he supposed to do now? Soothe the Sentinel or break up the fight? Either way, he was the one suffering.

The Guide extended a mental tentacle to touch the Sentinel’s mind.

Shiraishi stopped his standoff with the Anaconda and turned back, his eyes locked onto Guanyue Xi.

Guanyue Xi could feel him thinking about something, but a Sentinel’s mind during a rut is pure chaos. No coherent thoughts could be formed; he could only sense that every single one of the Sentinel’s impulses was directed solely at him.

Being stared at like that made the hair on the Guide’s back stand up.

“Um…”

Before Guanyue Xi could get a word out, the Sentinel ducked his head again. A sudden, sharp pain flared in his neck, so intense that tears nearly sprang to his eyes. His mind went blank as his body jerked like a landed fish, only to be held down firmly by the Sentinel’s grip on his shoulders.

“Hey! Ow, ow, ow!!” Guanyue Xi yelled, both angry and frantic. He felt a faint, cool trail of liquid running down his neck. He tried to struggle, but he was no match for a Sentinel’s strength.

“Are you a dog?!”

The “fragile” Guide had been bitten hard, and the pain shot straight to his heart. Guanyue Xi genuinely wondered if his neck had been punctured all the way through.

Shiraishi’s canines were sunk deep into Guanyue Xi’s scent gland, as if he wanted to swallow this delicious lemon-flavoured candy whole. He lapped at the skin, sucking and licking at the blood that had been drawn.

A Guide’s bodily fluids contain a high concentration of pheromones—the best possible sedative for a Sentinel in rut.

As their scents mingled, the mental link between them became rock-solid.

Without any training, the Sentinel had instinctively learned how to perform an initial bond, following his primal urges to bite the gland that released the Guide’s soothing scent.

Guanyue Xi’s consciousness began to drift as his mental energy was pulled toward the Sentinel.

After a wave of dizziness, he regained his senses and he was so furious that he immediately lashed out with a mental whip.

A Combat Guide’s mental whip is fast and precise. Without shattering the Sentinel’s mental realm, he expertly struck a sensitive pressure point within his mind, ensuring the strike was painful enough to neutralize any resistance.

He wasn’t worried about causing permanent damage; his control was perfect, and after two days of repairs, Shiraishi’s mind was strong enough to take the hit.

Without a sound, Shiraishi collapsed, his heavy body sagging onto Guanyue Xi.

Guanyue Xi: “…”

The Anaconda gave the Guide’s calf one last, lingering nuzzle before vanishing from the bedroom.

With a great deal of effort, he pushed Shiraishi’s unconscious body off of him and clutched the back of his neck as he scrambled out of bed.

Guanyue Xi checked his hand—no blood. The Sentinel had licked it all clean.

Realizing this only made him angrier. He had intended to look after the man, but that didn’t mean he wanted to bond with a stranger he’d known for two days, especially not like this.

Now what?

He couldn’t stay in the same bed as the Sentinel, but Shiraishi was currently dead to the world on his mattress. He glared at the sleeping man with pure indignation.

Lashing someone feels great in the moment, but cleaning up the mess is a nightmare.

Guanyue Xi didn’t want to expend the energy to drag Shiraishi back to the guest room, and his own bedroom was now saturated with the Sentinel’s scent, which was irritating to his nose.

He paced the room twice before stomping over to the guest bedroom, locking the door, and going back to sleep.

The only reason he didn’t check into a hotel was the fear that an undocumented Sentinel might actually manage to die in his house while he was gone.

…

This time, the dream was a sequel to the last.

Same laboratory. Same restrained position.

The difference was the presence of two figures dressed as lab technicians. One held a thick ledger, while the other was drawing a mysterious liquid into a syringe.

The one with the ledger spoke:

“Experiment No. 231. Subject: .crackle… hiss… Experiment Time: 35… bzzz… years…”

Like radio interference, the technician’s words became distorted and blurred, and the image before Guanyue Xi’s eyes began to ripple like water.

Guanyue Xi widened his eyes, waiting to see what would happen next, but he was suddenly jerked awake by a strange scratching sound at his door.

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