Chapter 13: Methodology of Scene Restoration

In the afternoon, you waited punctually in the designated room for your guide instructor.

After the minute hand turned twice, the door was hastily pushed open, and a splash of soft peach color entered your view.

The young girl hurried in, seemingly a bit out of breath, then confirmed your name.

“Hello, I’m Miura Hoshimitsu!”

“Hello,” you replied, introducing yourself and smiling at her.

She calmed herself for a moment, then sat directly opposite you, pulling over a small whiteboard with fluid movements.

“I am a guide for Chronos Aoshi,” she said. “I’m registered to perform mental landscape restoration.”

“Mr. Huixin already told me your basic situation, so shall I begin?”

You nodded, inexplicably feeling a fondness for her.

“When we usually talk about mental guidance, we refer to clearing and purifying the sentinel’s mental pathways,” she explained, sketching a simple diagram of the mental pathways and obstacles on the whiteboard. “Because very few can actually enter the mental landscapes.”

“I won’t go into much detail about the former. To enter the mental landscape, both parties need a high degree of compatibility.”

“But even with high compatibility, there will be rejection reactions after entering the mental landscape...”

Her expression grew serious.

“Most sentinels have their mental landscapes closed off throughout their lives, and since everyone’s landscape is different, they may recognize the guide as performing a deeper purification, but their instincts make them repel intruders.”

You listened intently and shared your previous experience—you almost got swallowed by Caesar’s sea of roses.

Hoshimitsu nodded. “That’s exactly it. His landscape was trying to consume you.”

“One more thing: a sentinel’s mental landscape is personal privacy, so it’s best not to let others know,” she added after a light cough.

“Oh, understood,” you quickly jotted it down.

Mental landscapes are content not yet covered in your coursework, so you carefully recorded the key points.

A guide is a sentinel’s tamer.

But on a deeper mental level, their relationship is one of contest.

“Once you cross the entrance into the mental landscape, the first thing you must do is protect yourself.”

During normal guidance, sentinels are relatively stable, making the landscape fairly safe. But in emergencies, when the sentinel’s emotions are unstable, the domain is fraught with danger.

“Pulling back a sentinel who’s losing control in such moments is a skill a guide must learn.”

“Turn your mental strength into a solid shield, then proceed to repair and remodel this mental domain.”

Through this struggle of confrontation and salvation, devouring and reliance, both sides grow rapidly, and their bond tightens until inseparable, becoming truly unique.

“So, what about sentinels who haven’t found a guide? Do they keep relying on compulsory guidance?”

You raised this question, recalling that Hoshimitsu had mentioned not every sentinel can find a guide with high enough compatibility to enter the mental landscape for purification.

She snapped her fingers, signaling your question was excellent.

“Compulsory guidance can cover early-stage needs. But as sentinels mature, their guidance demands increase.”

This requires them to continuously learn to control themselves while undergoing medication injections. Of course, dosage must be strictly controlled to avoid resistance, which can spiral into a vicious cycle of needing massive daily doses.

Under such cautious conditions, sentinels who require extremely high physical capabilities naturally cannot stand out among top peers. Thus, many choose retirement at this stage, taking on less burdensome jobs.

To this day, all sentinels who remain active for a long time have highly compatible guides.

This cruelly demonstrates that whether a sentinel can endure in the profession depends heavily on luck. Without a destined guide, their career is doomed to be brief.

You thought of the young sentinels striving for soccer in the Blue Prison Project. Even though they knew most careers were short-lived, they still gave it their all.

“By the way, let me also tell you about the consequences of a sentinel losing control. The textbooks probably only say they get sent to the sentinel penitentiary.”

Hoshimitsu rested her chin on one hand. “That’s actually the better outcome, since it’s only temporary.”

“I’ve been to the sentinel prison. It’s filled with uncontrollable sentinels for whom even medication no longer works—they can never be brought back.”

They vent endless aggression inside the prison daily, unable to control the violence in their genes. They become no different from monsters, ultimately dying from exhaustion.

“...” You were stunned.

It was hard to imagine that the true plight of sentinels was like this.

You recalled those sentinels you had seen in the media—glorious figures, excelling in all manner of competitive sports and military fields due to their extraordinary senses and physical abilities, revered and passionately admired by ordinary people; countless around you wished to become sentinels.

The world of sentinels and guides seemed like a distant, beautiful Eden, but only those inside truly knew of the hidden struggles. Until now, you had never known such things existed between sentinels and guides.

Seeing your shocked expression, Hoshimitsu chuckled softly. “But don’t worry, that’s the most extreme case. Although sentinels do have great stamina, they also take care of their bodies. So many sentinels and guides have worked hard, and now the irreversible loss-of-control rate is very low.”

“Oh...” You nodded, gaining a deeper understanding of the sentinel-guide world’s workings.

After several hours of chatting and classroom-style learning that afternoon, you learned many small techniques for remodeling mental landscapes.

Hoshimitsu straightforwardly used Caesar’s landscape as an example. The sea of roses and the throne were manifestations of his spirit, so any other anomalies needed to be cleared. Of course, altering original elements would also discomfort him. This applied when you needed to warn the other party.

When discussing these topics, Hoshimitsu looked radiant. It seemed that landscape remodeling was a very interesting matter, and hearing her describe the methods made you eager to try.

It made you want to find Caesar again and pluck a rose from his mental landscape to see what would happen...

You looked at the pile of notes you had just taken and sank into frustration at having nowhere to experiment.

*

After the private lesson ended, as you walked back to your room, you encountered several sentinels who seemed to have just finished a match.

You could tell it was a match, not training, because the barely contained rage between them said it all.

You didn’t pay much attention at first, until you saw Rin Itoshi’s disheveled face.

At first glance, it looked like he’d been in a fight; blood trickled from under his nose, which he wiped away forcefully, leaving smeared stains.

His sleeve was also stained with blood. This was not something that would quickly stop bleeding without intervention. You sighed, took out some tissue from your pocket, and called out to him.

His handsome face was covered in wounds and stubbornness, with eyelashes as beautiful as his brother’s, but his gaze was cold and disdainful, quite different from his brother’s. His emotions were always so openly displayed that you couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity.

Rin’s eyes flickered with confusion for a moment, and after his anger subsided, a hint of helplessness showed.

You saw a small light ignite in his eyes.

He took the patterned tissue you offered, stared at it for two seconds, then pressed it to his face.

“Thank you.”

“Hey! I got hurt too, guide-sama! Can you pay some atten-tion to me~?”

Behind him, Ryusei Shido tapped his head mischievously and pushed Rin aside, stepping up to you.

The flat tissue instantly crumpled in Rin’s hand as Ryusei lunged forward with almost a punch.

A dull thud echoed as the corridor wall was struck—a sound that made you suspect a fracture.

“...Eh???”

Ryusei’s face appeared before your eyes for a second before disappearing, then someone pulled you away.

It was Yoh Koori.

“Be careful not to get hurt. Those two have never gotten along,” she smiled at you, her gentle eyes full of sincerity.

Nearby, Kenyu Yukimiya, who had been about to intervene, also stepped forward. “Let’s go. They’ll sort themselves out.”

They hadn’t had enough on the field, and now they were fighting in front of the guide. Yukimiya was quite troubled.

The guide’s safety was paramount. As for these two hot-headed and rude sentinels—let them fight it out, just think of it as burning off energy.

...But was it really okay?

You still worried about that muffled thud. With that force, anyone would have cracked a rib...

“Are you really okay? Didn’t Ryusei just get slammed against the wall...?”

Looking at Rin, you realized just how frighteningly strong he was.

You hesitated and turned back, wanting to see the situation clearly.

Suddenly, Huixin’s angry voice blared through the loudspeaker:

“If you two fight again, you will be disqualified!!!”