Hero Association #110
"....."
"....."
Amid the people exchanging wary glances in heavy silence, one man hung his head like a sinner.
"Haa..."
"....."
The white-haired man seated at the head of the table, gazing down at the man's crown with a complex, inscrutable look, let out a sigh and finally spoke.
"It was about twenty years ago, I think? I'd finally gotten some vacation time after ages, so I headed to the beach. Pretty girls strutting around in bikinis, showing off their killer bodies—how could a guy just sit there? Even if it meant getting slapped, I figured I'd give flirting a shot."
"""....."""
It was an out-of-left-field reminiscence, but not a soul dared interrupt. They just kept peeking around, praying this storm would blow over quick.
But deep down, they all knew—this wasn't some storm that'd pass easily.
"Then suddenly, the sky goes dark. What the hell? Storm clouds rolling in? I look up, and holy shit. There's this freakish bird staring down at me, bigger than any damn plane."
"The second I saw that bird, I knew right away. Ah, that's the monster the seniors warned me about."
"[Siren]."
"That was the name of that fucking abomination of a bird."
Thick curses spilled from the white-haired man—Valencia, president of the Hero Association—and the room flinched. The S-rank and A-rank heroes present kept straight faces, but everyone else? Not so much.
"President, that was vulgar just now."
"Was it? Sorry. Got me so pissed I slipped. I'll watch it from now on."
His secretary, Gumiho, standing behind him, spoke up, and Valencia waved it off with an apology.
BAM!
"Fuck! That piece-of-shit monster bird was named Siren! Siren! Siiiireeeen!!!!!! Goddamn fucking Siren!!!!!!!!!!"
Unable to hold back his rage any longer, Valencia slammed the desk and shot to his feet, bellowing. His voice boomed so loud, folks fifty meters away could hear it clear as day.
"Ugh!"
"....!"
Even the heroes who'd stayed stone-faced through his cursing twitched at the roar.
"That Siren alone killed over two thousand people back then. A hundred of 'em heroes. A hundred heroes died to that bastard. My seniors, your seniors!"
"Those people gave their lives to take it down!"
"And now? Tough Guy and Jenaraider get banged up bad, slip into comas, all to protect that damn Siren's heart!"
Roar!
The president collapsed back into his chair, his voice drained.
"What the hell makes Siren worth all these deaths and injuries? Why do our guys have to get wrecked guarding its heart?"
"""....."""
The room bowed their heads; Gizman, the director already hanging low, looked ready to bury his face in the floor.
'Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!'
And why? Because he was the one who'd pitched displaying Siren's heart to the elite.
Gizman had figured it'd cozy him up to high society, score funding from the chaebols, and with their backing, pressure Valencia. He'd rallied the directors and his hero allies, pushed the plan despite the president's lukewarm response, and somehow pulled off the exhibition.
Only for Siren's heart to get swiped clean.
Right under two S-rank heroes and dozens of A- and B-ranks.
Gizman's bold bid for next association president had backfired spectacularly.
'These worthless shits! Some S-rank heroes! Can't even catch a thief! Fuck, we're screwed...'
The bowed man—Gizman Director—cursed the heroes who'd failed to guard the heart, inwardly.
"Um... President. The support team and search specialist heroes are pursuing High Fog and Hazel Fox, the ones who stole Siren's heart. We'll have it back soon."
One director piped up, hoping to ease the toxic mood.
But it was the wrong call—worse than saying nothing.
The director thought Valencia was mad about the symbolic heart getting stolen.
Dead wrong.
Valencia was furious that two S-rank heroes—Tough Guy and Jenaraider—had gotten gravely hurt over some "gem."
Maybe because he'd vented his pent-up rage? Valencia eyed the director and gave a wry smirk.
"Why bother?"
"Pardon?"
"Why chase it? Tell 'em to keep it. Hell, toss in the other two while we're at it—let 'em take the lot."
The room reeled at the bombshell.
Besides Siren's heart, the Hero Association's underground vault held two more relics: monster parts extracted, processed into artifacts.
The eye of a massive fire-breathing salamander-like monster, [Fabio.Du.Salamander], forged into [Salamander's Sun].
The hide of a steel-skinned, maned lion-beast, [Raiga.Ol.Nemes], crafted into [Steel Lion Statue].
And now the president was offering them to the villains who'd nicked Siren's heart.
Pandemonium, naturally.
"P-President!"
"What are you saying?!"
"Those relics hold the souls of our heroic forebears..."
"Souls my ass. You think they'd be thrilled knowing heroes tasked with Dark City's safety got critically injured over some trinkets?"
"....."
Valencia's words left them speechless, honey-mouthed mutes.
The meeting wrapped with a resolution to handle it swiftly, keeping citizens from panicking.
"How're the kids?"
Back in his office, Valencia asked Gumiho.
"Jenaraider overdid his superpower output, they say. A few days' solid rest, and [Divine Healer] says he'll be up."
"Thank god for that. And Tough Guy?"
"Thanks to the Divine Healer's efforts, external and internal injuries are fully mended. But as you know, with his ankle severed and hand crushed, full recovery means at least two months' bed rest."
"Two months..."
"....?"
Valencia bit his lip. Gumiho looked puzzled.
Sure, two months was long. But plenty of S-rank heroes could cover Tough Guy's absence.
S-ranks only mobilized for two reasons: stumbling on a crime mid-patrol, or an S-rank villain stirring.
With Steel Armor the only active S-rank villain, Tough Guy's downtime wasn't a huge hit to the association.
"Something wrong? A problem...?"
"Nah. Just worried about Tough Guy."
"Worried? But as I said, the Divine Healer..."
"I know. I got ears—your words are lodged in my skull."
"....."
"What I'm worried about is Tough Guy retiring over this."
"Retiring?"
Gumiho's eyes widened at the word.
Why retire? Tough Guy was a 30+ year veteran of veterans, the association's twin pillar alongside Valencia. Stern father figure or nurturing mother to juniors alike, he commanded deep respect.
Nearing 70, yet fitter than most his age—hell, than 20- or 30-somethings.
He always bragged he'd hero another decade easy. From Gumiho's view, Valencia fretting retirement seemed off.
"Tch. Forget it. What am I even saying? No need for baseless worries. Pretend you didn't hear."
"Yes, sir."
Valencia clicked his tongue, brushing it off; Gumiho nodded.
"Anyway, Siren's heart—can we track it?"
"Not right now."
"Smuggled out already?"
"Likely."
"Ugh... Tough Guy needs to wake up soon for the details."
"Shall we tail High Fog or Hazel Fox?"
"Can we?"
"If we have what they used, yes."
"Hm... Leave 'em be for now. Instead, track down Steel Armor."
"Steel Armor?"
Gumiho tilted her head.
The heart thieves were two master villains—why Steel Armor?
"Every major incident lately? Steel Armor's involved. Sanctuary Corp terror, Francesco Hotel, Shadow Killer showdown, and up to today... Big events piling up short order since he showed. And he's always there. No coincidence."
"You think he's behind it all?"
"Just a hunch. Too sloppy for a mastermind. But connected enough to investigate."
"We'll start the moment we snag something he used."
"Miho. As you know..."
"Yes. I'll keep my existence hidden."
"Good. I trust you."
Valencia nodded at the reliable Gumiho.
"President. I'm here."
"Come in."
Ice Queen entered at his summons. Short greeting to Gumiho, then sofa.
Gumiho excused herself for tea; the president spoke.
"You did great."
"Great? I did nothing there. Sorry—I failed your order."
"Order? Don't say it like that. I asked a favor, not commanded."
"Heh. True. Still sorry."
At his request, she'd been at the museum as Han Ji-min during the heist.
But High Fog's mist left her helpless.
"Got another favor."
"Name it."
"It's..."
"Y-yes. Yes? That's... yes... Understood."
Valencia whispered a secret request to Ice Queen.