The Aftermath of the Laboratory Raid (2)
“Then I’ll take my leave now as well.”
I looked at Astra and offered a polite farewell. The matter had been strange, but it wrapped up on a positive note, so it was time to head back.
“Yes. I’ve already informed Doctor about your wrist injury, so please go see him right away.”
“Thank you.”
With that, Astra—who had suggested I visit Doctor, our organization’s resident villain physician—sent me off with her usual formal goodbye. I stepped out of the office.
Well, I’ve taken care of everything I needed to today.
My wrist was throbbing. Getting it treated quickly seemed wise, so I decided to go see Doctor. With my thoughts settled, I strode down the corridor.
Meanwhile, the Hero Association was nursing a massive headache thanks to Maker.
I only did what I always do.
Manipulating public opinion was hardly new territory for the Association. Anyone with the power to incite citizens or anyone holding ideologies that might destabilize the current system was automatically flagged as a threat.
Villains citizens might sympathize with, cheer for, or find cool were all subjected to censorship and carefully engineered public narratives.
Because those idiot civilians might actually agree with what the villains say.
Whenever a villain appeared too dangerous, the Hero Association would restrain them through orchestrated public opinion campaigns. This time, the target was the newly emerged Eclipse executive known as Maker.
Two consecutive terror incidents, the surprisingly non-negative public attitude toward this particular villain, and now the laboratory raid on top of it all. The Association sensed he was beginning to exert real influence and decided it was time to slap him down.
“What the hell kind of job is this?!”
They had manipulated the narrative to paint him as just another run-of-the-mill villain—until a certain video spread and instead launched him into the spotlight.
“Incompetent fools! How is there not a single competent person among the executives!”
The Association president raged like a storm.
…You’re the one who picked every last one of them.
…While only choosing people who suck up to you, at that.
A few executives had those thoughts rise to the tips of their tongues before swallowing them back down.
“Haa…”
The president scowled, visibly frustrated, and pulled a cigarette from his inner pocket.
“President, no matter how upset you are, smoking indoors is—”
“Do you think I’d be doing this if I wasn’t this damn frustrated? Huh? You think I’d do this otherwise?!”
The president lit the cigarette anyway. He took a deep drag, exhaled, and continued.
“Did you find the person who leaked that video?”
The individual who had overturned their perfectly orchestrated public opinion campaign in an instant.
“We attempted to trace it, but…”
“But?”
“…It appears to be routed through the dark web, so we can’t locate…”
“Hoo…”
The president took one final drag before crushing the cigarette into the ashtray with deliberate force.
“What the hell can you people even do?!”
At the president’s roar, the executives’ mouths snapped shut.
“Didn’t we have this same conversation about that Maker bastard last time? This isn’t a joke—what exactly are you trying to pull here!”
“…We’re sorry.”
And so the president’s tirade began in earnest.
“Argh! This is so frustrating, so damn frustrating!”
Some time passed. After thoroughly cursing out the executives, the president seemed to have vented enough stress; his demeanor was noticeably calmer than before.
“…So what I’m saying! Ahem. Is that you should pay a little more attention! That’s all.”
“We executives always take your words to heart, President.”
“…Is that so? Hahaha!”
At one executive’s timely flattery, the earlier fury vanished without a trace. The president laughed with satisfaction, going on about how he knew they were all working hard and had only spoken out of a desire to see them perform even better.
Even with the abrupt shift in attitude, the executives—long accustomed to this pattern—continued to stroke his ego.
“…By the way, what do you plan to do about Maker?”
“What do you mean?”
“His rank, sir.”
At the executive’s question, the president fell into thought.
Now that I think about it, it is about time we assigned him a proper rank.
This would be Maker’s third terror incident. They couldn’t keep delaying it forever.
“In that case…”
“In that case?”
…Tsk.
“Does anyone have a good suggestion?”
Most of the executives stared at the president with expressions that clearly said as expected.
At the large hospital run by the Hero Association.
“Thank you for your hard work, Ice Queen. Here’s your prescription—please take the medicine on schedule and change the bandages once every two days.”
“Thank you.”
Ice Queen gave a polite bow and left the hospital.
“Ice Queen. Are you feeling alright?”
Waiting outside was a man in a black suit—a Hero Association employee who had come to escort her.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Your vacation request has been approved. Please take a few days to rest properly.”
The man guided her into his car. Ice Queen climbed in with practiced familiarity and finally released the ability she had been maintaining the entire time.
Vrrrr—
“…Haa.”
The mysterious sky-blue hair and eyes faded, leaving behind an ordinary woman with black hair—Seo Yunhee.
“Shall I drive you home?”
“Please.”
Having reverted from hero Ice Queen to civilian Seo Yunhee, she gazed at the scenery passing by the window.
“……”
After a long stretch of silence, the man spoke.
“…Personally, I believe your opinion was correct, Queen.”
He kept his eyes on the road as he continued.
“No matter what crime they’ve committed, handling punishment through personal vendettas isn’t right.”
“…Is that so.”
Seo Yunhee fell into quiet thought at his words.
Maker’s actions had certainly been extreme. Disliking the legal system and choosing to enforce private sanctions instead? That was a blatant disregard for the rules society had built and constituted a clear criminal act.
But… what if the law itself is wrong?
What was the right thing to do then?
She knew all too well how weak the current laws were.
—Even if a villain kills someone right in front of you, the worst they get is prison, isn’t it?
She had found herself agreeing with him, at least a little.
Seo Yunhee absently fiddled with the gun hidden in her coat—the one she had taken from Maker during the raid.
“…Do you think Maker had some kind of story behind him?”
“Everyone in this world has a story.”
He was right. Whatever his reasons, he was still a murderer who had taken lives.
That’s right… he’s a villain I need to capture.
She ran her fingers over the gun once more.
It was perfectly smooth, without a serial number. A completely different model from the one used to kill the researchers.
The sheer number of weapons makes it unlikely a single individual could have used them all.
And the complete absence of any serial number. The more she replayed her battle with Maker, the more it resembled the cases she had previously handled.
So you were the culprit.
The earlier incidents involving the massacre of villain organizations. She didn’t know if he had acted alone or with accomplices, but at minimum he had definitely provided support.
“…Haa, I’m overthinking this.”
With a sigh, she swept her hair back from her face.
“There’s a café nearby. Would you like me to stop so you can have something sweet?”
The man, noticing her troubled state, made the gentle suggestion. Seo Yunhee nodded without protest.
“Welcome back, Maker-nim.”
A man dressed entirely in white—from his white mask to every article of clothing—bowed deeply at a perfect ninety degrees.
“Haha, isn’t it a bad sign to see the doctor this often?”
“Ah.”
When I smirked and joked, he glanced down at his white coat as if only just realizing the implication.
Doctor. The physician of our organization.
A rare healer-type ability user prized even on a global scale. A valuable asset capable of restoring severely wounded patients to a functional state.
“Anyway, thank you for the treatment.”
“It is only natural for the organization’s doctor. Besides, as an executive, there is no reason not to treat you, Maker-nim.”
I tested my bandaged wrist with a few careful movements.
“I stabilized the wrist as a precaution. Please avoid strenuous activity for the rest of today. If you feel any pain, do not hesitate to come see me.”
“Understood. Thank you for your work.”
Doctor bowed once more at my words. I returned the gesture and made my way back to my room.
“Wearing a mask all day is really stuffy.”
Maybe I should try a ventilated one next time. I removed the half-mask, loosened a few buttons and my tie, then collapsed onto the sofa.
“So tired… so damn tired…”
No matter how fast the helicopter was, several hours of round-trip travel, fighting, being chased, and nearly depleting my mana had left me on the verge of passing out.
…I can’t afford to be like this already.
There would be countless battles far from home in the future. Burning out this early would be problematic. Was there no solution?
Completely avoiding fatigue in battle was impossible, but if I could at least reduce the exhaustion caused by travel… There had to be something… some method…
“Guuuu…”
While pondering, I slipped into unconsciousness.
“What did you just say you want to do?”
The next morning, I stared at Astra with sparkling eyes.
She looked back at me with an utterly dumbfounded expression. Was my wish really that strange?
“I want to open a café.”
When I repeated myself in case she hadn’t heard properly, her expression grew even more bizarre.
“You want to open a café?”
“Yes.”
“As an executive of a villain organization?”
“Is there any rule saying I can’t?”
“And you want to do it near the slums?”
I gave her a look that asked why not? She let out a deep sigh. Her gaze was exactly like that of a mother looking at her immature son or an older sister dealing with a troublesome younger brother.
It was a mixture of exasperation and complete failure to understand why on earth I would want to do such a thing.
“You want that as your reward?”
“That’s correct.”
“…”
I smiled brightly at her.
Don’t worry! I’ll go find the mana stones and bring them back, Mom! Don’t you trust me?