Prologue: PTSD
PTSD. This mental disorder known as post-traumatic stress disorder had become all too commonplace in everyday life ever since the Gate incident erupted. Hell, I was suffering from it myself. It hit right when I was a corporal, exactly one year into my enlistment. I got swept up in that Gate too. They declared me KIA, slapped up a tombstone for me in the national cemetery... that kind of bullshit happened. But somehow, I clawed my way back alive. I'd always figured I was cursed with shitty luck my whole life, but that time? I got goddamn lucky.
Mental ability to peer into the desires of a target through physical contact
When I crawled out of the Gate, three years had passed. By some stroke of luck, I'd awakened to mana. Lilith's Authority. A mental power that let me peek into the desires of anyone I touched physically—that was it. In hindsight, it's pretty underwhelming, but back then, any hunter who'd awakened mana was a hot commodity. At an average level, you could sprint 100 meters in five seconds, shrug off bullets like they were nothing—those specs were weapons all on their own.
But that was the end of it. As time went on, more and more hunters awakened like I had. My ability was useless in combat—against monsters, all it showed was crap like "I wanna chomp your fucking skull right now." In the end, I retired with nothing but the hollow prestige of being a first-gen hunter.
Think positive, I told myself, mechanically clapping along with the guild members.
At least I won't have to step foot in those fucking Gates anymore.
It meant I'd never again have to see that goddamn nightmare of a monster gnawing my arm to bits in my visions. And hey, retiring from fieldwork didn't mean total retirement. No more moping about what to do for a living or debating whether to open a fried chicken joint.
Though my salary's getting cut in half.
The guild suggested promoting me to guide alongside my retirement from fieldwork. A guide—basically a therapist. Soldiers dealing with people on the battlefield get PTSD; no way hunters fighting monsters in Gates come out unscathed. You just had to empathize with their hunter struggles, coddle them when they whined... it reduced the mental erosion that built up inside Gates. Mental awakeners like me usually took those roles.
It was... technically a promotion.
No life allowance, though.
Guides managed hunters, so on paper, they outranked most. No dispatch fees either.
But come on, was it that simple? Laws are distant; fists are close. Mental hunters like us were physically weaker than the rest, so good luck controlling them.
No juicy side income from byproducts anymore.
"...Still a promotion, though."
My monthly pay dropped to a third, but good was good. I accepted my retirement on my own terms. Truth be told, it wasn't all bad. If I had to pick, there were two big upsides. One: no more visions of monsters ripping me apart.
Fuck, that little bitch is hot as hell.
And two: as a so-called first-gen hunter, I got assigned mostly high-rankers. The guild had plenty of female hunters, and awakeners all had superior bodies by default...
As a guide, under the guise of "guiding," I could touch them without any awkwardness.
Look at those tits. Wanna suck 'em dry till the milk comes out.
A month into starting my second act as a guide.
"Ah, Senior! Can't you guide me again today?"
"We did it yesterday."
"I just came back from another Gate today. Yeah?"
"Well, I've got my own schedule..."
"Senior."
"C-can we talk with your hands off me?"
"Senior?"
"Fine. I'll do it. I've got an opening at... two o'clock?"
"Right now."
......
I ended up busier than when I was an active hunter.