Reborn as an A-Rank Guide: Trapped By The Crazy Sentinels

But being slow didn’t mean he was stupid.

He was simply a little quiet, a little delayed, and adorably absent-minded.

When it came to slaughtering alien abominations on the frontlines, however, he was an absolute monster on the battlefield.

Before Bunny left his room, Orion reached into his wardrobe, retrieved the plush pink bunny toy from his bed, and offered it to her, his fingers moving through a fluid series of hand gestures.

Bunny didn’t understand sign language, but she could easily infer his intent.

The night before, she had been wearing a pair of slippers with bunny ears on them. He had clearly noticed and assumed it was her favorite thing. Well, that and the mere fact that her name was literally Bunny.

"No, keep it," she said gently, pushing it back toward him.

Resources in this desolate frontier era were far scarcer than they once were. A pure cotton stuffed toy shipped all the way from Central Terra was astronomically expensive—a rare luxury item for a rank-and-file soldier.

Ignoring her refusal, Orion simply pressed the bunny firmly into her arms, his face breaking into a radiant, unguarded smile.

He made another complicated series of hand signs.

Only much later would Bunny learn what he had been trying to tell her:

I like your scent.

Looking at his bright, innocent eyes, Bunny felt a sudden twinge of guilt for scolding and hitting him earlier. Carrying the plush bunny back to her quarters, she placed it carefully on her nightstand right beside her pillow.

Having received both physical and mental relief for the first time in his life, Orion happily carried his damp clothes down to the laundry room.

He was in an extraordinary mood.

In fact, he had never felt this light or happy since the day he had been decanted from his artificial incubation chamber.

After finishing his chores, he sat quietly on the wind-swept edge of the tower rooftop, letting the cool evening air wash over his skin. Resting in his palm was a small, pink rabbit hair tie that Bunny had accidentally left behind in his bathroom.

Orion stared at it without blinking.

His mind continuously replayed images of the Guide—her soft, cascading hair, her clear eyes, and the breathless, intense intimacy of the way she had helped him through his heat.

A completely unfamiliar world had opened before him.

The more he dwelt on it, the deeper the flush crept across his cheeks. He really, truly liked Bunny. He loved the way she looked at him and the way she touched him.

Primal desire was an intoxicating, addictive thing.

"Tsk. One little session of guidance and he’s already lost his mind."

A mocking voice cut through the wind behind him, heavy with unmistakable venom. "If he ever gets another chance to get near her, he’ll probably crawl over on his hands and knees."

Orion turned his head.

Brandon was leaning against the rooftop railing, his sharp eyes narrowed beneath long lashes, his handsome face dark with disdain.

He had just learned from Arden that Captain Xander had chosen Orion to be the first Sentinel to receive Bunny’s guidance. It made his blood boil.

Liam had been the first to form a mental link with her. Orion had been the first to receive her private guidance.

It felt as though there was nothing left for him.

Accustomed to Brandon’s sharp, abrasive temperament, Orion had no intention of engaging in this discussion. He turned back toward the horizon.

But in the next instant, Brandon’s razor-sharp vision caught sight of the pink fabric in Orion’s hand. In a flash of movement, he snatched it away.

"What’s this?" Brandon’s voice dripped with provocation. "Hey, idiot. Hoarding a little keepsake for yourself?"

Orion snapped instantly.

His eyes flashed dark as he gestured furiously, signing with sharp, aggressive movements for Brandon to hand it back.

Brandon rolled the soft ribbon between his fingers. A faint, sweet trace of the woman’s floral fragrance still clung to the fabric. Seeing how desperately Orion wanted it, the corner of Brandon’s mouth curled into a cruel smirk.

"You want it?" He held it just out of reach. "Come take it."

Orion was an SS-rank Sentinel, while Brandon was an SS+. Brandon knew perfectly well that in a direct physical confrontation, Orion stood little chance of winning.

Driven past his limit by the sheer provocation, Orion threw a violent, heavy punch.

The two Sentinels clashed, exchanging brutal, lightning-fast strikes against the howling wind—until Brandon suddenly felt something radically different about his opponent’s movements.

Brandon blocked a strike, disengaged, and backed away, studying Orion with an analytical, razor-sharp gaze.

"Did she give you deep-level guidance?"

Brandon’s expression turned terrifyingly dark, raw jealousy written across every line of his face.

Standard, surface-level guidance only smoothed out top-layer mental turbulence. The dramatic drop in Orion’s instability metrics and the fluid precision of his current reaction speed could never have been achieved through basic soothing alone.

Something far deeper—and far more intimate—had taken place in that room.

Orion remained silent, his gaze cold and unyielding.

His silence was an absolute confirmation.

Brandon’s brows drew together in utter disbelief, his fists clenching until his knuckles popped.

"Fucking hell... Why you?!"

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