Chapter 150: Stolen kiss

Why on earth was he suddenly bringing them up?

Even though her marksmanship modules had indeed been instructed by the twins, Bunny was completely oblivious to the fact that she was currently bathed in a heavy, unmistakable layer of the twins’ Sentinel pheromones—practically screaming "I just rolled between the sheets with them" right into San’s face.

Even if it wasn’t technically an official bed-rolling session, it was certainly close enough.

San’s eyes darkened progressively; the scent proved she had engaged in intimacy that far surpassed a routine deep neuro-cleansing.

So, she truly preferred that kind of brainless, overly muscled type after all?

Or did she simply find the idea of handling twin brothers far more exhilarating?

It seemed he had severely underestimated the appetite of this Little Dinosaur—to think she could actually stomach that much at once.

Yet, looking at it from another angle, it meant he no longer needed to worry about whether she could handle him in the future.

"I..."

Her lack of skill was an undeniable fact.

"I’ll keep practicing."

Bunny’s response completely derailed San’s expectations; he had fully anticipated this quick-tempered little tyrant to leap up and try to take his head off.

After all, her temper was notorious for being fiercely explosive.

San had spent the last two days locked away in his room, tortured by his own thoughts as he wrestled with how to process the reality of Astin and her being together.

That hypocritical, repulsive crocodile—one moment sneering down at the idea of serving as a Guide’s obedient hound, and the very next, willingly slipping the leash over his own neck.

He found Astin’s hypocrisy impossible to stomach and despised him even more for shattering what he considered family.

Yet that had been the Guide’s explicit choice—what right did he have to contest it?

San felt tormented, yet completely powerless.

To anyone else watching, his flared temper likely made him look like a pathetic clown.

And yet, he still desperately yearned to prove something to himself.

San abruptly tossed out an invitation. "Miss Guide, how about we play a quick game?"

He laid out two completely disassembled firearm kits across the bench, this time ensuring no incorrect parts were secretly mixed in.

"I’ll grant you a full one-minute head start. If you manage to beat me, I’ll happily customize all your future tactical weaponry free of charge."

The vast majority of standard-issue weapons provided by High Command were engineered around the massive physical frames of Sentinels.

For a smaller-statured individual like Bunny, they were completely unwieldy.

San’s customization talent sat near the absolute top of the unit; his intuitive mechanical aptitude was unmatched, and Bunny genuinely required a loadout tailored specifically to her build.

It was undeniably an enticing offer.

"And if I lose?"

San flashed his twin sharp canine teeth. "Then you let me flick your forehead."

What kind of bizarre condition was that?

Oh well, considering he was giving her a whole minute’s head start, losing wouldn’t be the end of the world—and who knew, she might actually win.

"Deal! If you lose, I get to flick your forehead, too."

With a slight smirk curling at the corner of his lips, San clicked the timer.

The countdown commenced, and Bunny’s fingers flew across the assembly components. San crossed his arms, maintaining a remarkably relaxed, unhurried posture as if he didn’t harbor a single care in the world.

It wasn’t until Bunny reached the final assembly phase of the barrel housing that the one-minute mark finally struck.

She was already feeling victory firmly within her grasp.

Then, right before her thoroughly dumbfounded eyes, San’s long fingers transformed into an absolute blur across the dizzying array of complex mechanical parts, moving so fast his movements blurred into mere residual shadows.

Click-clack!

The sharp, crisp echo of a bolt snapping into place resonated through the room. By the time San completed his full assembly cycle, Bunny was still stuck executing her final step.

She stared wide-eyed at San, who was wearing a thoroughly smug, rogue-like grin.

"Little Dinosaur, you lost."

A deal was a deal.

It was time for him to collect his forehead flick.

Bunny bit her lower lip, fixing a menacing glare on him. "Fine, go ahead and flick it then."

She was well aware that San had been stewing in jealousy and irritation over the past couple of days.

If he actually dared to flick her hard, she would cut him off entirely for the rest of his life!

Biting his face off the moment she saw him!

San blinked his adorable, puppy-like eyes, effortlessly lifting her by the waist and setting her down onto the edge of the modification bench.

"Close your eyes."

Bunny was thoroughly baffled—why on earth would anyone need to close their eyes just to get flicked on the forehead?!

"Just close them."

Bunny snapped her eyes shut, already plotting her revenge in her head for the moment he laid a finger on her.

San gazed down at the tightly closed eyes of the nervous Guide before him, who looked as if she were already bracing for phantom pain.

Simply adorable.

Tilting his head slightly, he leaned down toward her face, shifting the bridge of his nose aside.

And just like that—sneaking past her guard while acting with complete, shameless audacity—

He pressed his lips directly against hers.

A soft, damp pressure bloomed instantly across her lips, carrying the unmistakable scent of burning amber and pine resin.

The pine aroma was faintly bitter, deepening into a heavy, intense finish that lingered with a searing warmth—a profile that matched his volatile personality to a fault.

He even took the liberty of biting down lightly on her lower lip, injecting a distinctly punitive edge into the kiss.

Bunny flew wide-eyed in sheer disbelief. "Did you just steal a kiss?!"

Was this his definition of getting his forehead flicked?!

As expected, not a single one of these Sentinels possessed an honest bone in their bodies.

Right on cue, exactly as San deserved, a sharp smack landed solidly across his cheek.

Even after taking a direct hit, he refused to back down, wearing a shameless, plastered grin as he shot back:

"Go ahead and hit me—I’m still kissing you back."