#133 Why Won't the Heroine Stack Build Up? (4)
"Guess I don't have to worry anymore, huh?"
I muttered to myself, staring at the water drop tattoo symbolizing Yuna on my left forearm. More precisely, I was looking at the new tattoo that had appeared next to it—a ghostly virgin figure. With her arms stretched out in front and her long, flowing hair covering most of her face, the virgin ghost tattoo looked like it might leap off my arm and strangle me any second.
"What the fuck you lookin' at, you bitch."
For some reason, it pissed me off, so I spat curses at the tattoo. Roaring like a tiger claiming a mountain, and whether it was my imagination or not, the ghost seemed to shrink back.
Hmph. Worthless shit.
"Anyway, looks like I can add tattoos this way too."
This confirmed it: conquer a female hero, make her think of me as her master, and a new tattoo appears. Honestly, up until now, Yuna was my only test subject, so I wasn't totally sure—just hoping it might work. But now that Ji-na's tattoo had appeared, the hypothesis was proven true.
Heh heh heh. Nice. So next up... this is kinda fun. A ghost after Ji-na, and now a demon.
The next harem member after Ji-na was the Succubus. She'd given me her body, but hadn't truly submitted, and she was the only woman with superpowers left.
"Mmm..."
Nom nom—
"Aww, our lil' Ji-na. That good, huh? Bro's dick so tasty you're chompin' away even in your sleep."
Ji-na, collapsed from exhaustion, was still working her lips around my cock in her sleep. Probably dreaming of some endless mushroom or sausage that never runs out.
"Wanna wake her up and go again..."
I wanted to shove my dick back into her cum-soaked pussy right then. They say a prince wakes the sleeping princess in the woods? Wrong. It's the prince's cock that wakes her.
"Up you go."
I pulled my dick from Ji-na's mouth, hugged her close, and slid into her pussy. Her walls, stretched to fit my size, welcomed their master home.
"Night night."
I closed my eyes, still holding her. I'd skipped work today by force, so tomorrow I had to go in. If I pushed too hard and she threw a fit, Ji-na might hate it. She was in my arms now, but I had no desire to lock her in a cage. Watching her spread her wings freely was way better.
*****
Morning came, and our routine kicked off again. Ji-na headed to work early to catch up on yesterday's tasks, while Elis went shopping with me (Mark-three). And I finally swung by the hideout.
"This a place people live or a goddamn landfill? Clean this shit up NOW!"
The hideout, untouched for two days, looked like a trash heap. Empty booze bottles everywhere, puke mines from whatever the baldies ate last night, and the baldies themselves sprawled like corpses on top of it all. Who the fuck left the fluorescent lights on...! Blinding as hell, can't even open my eyes...!
"Ughhh..."
"Save us..."
"My head's pounding..."
By the way, that last one—"head's pounding"—isn't a bald guy crying. It's "my, my head's throbbing." Don't get it twisted. Bald folks nationwide, hang in there!
Anyway, at my nagging, the corpse-like baldies staggered to their feet. Covered in puke, they looked straight out of a zombie flick. Fuck, should I just axe their skulls?!
"You filthy fucks! Wash up and clean this place! If I come back and see even a speck of dust, I'll shave more than your hair—your brains too! Got it?!"
"Ughhh..."
The bald zombies shambled off to wash. I clicked my tongue watching them.
"Tch. Even if they're expendables, this is too sloppy. If another villain crew hit now, we'd be fucked. Shit?"
Thinking about it, this was serious. Do villains bank at banks or use cards? Nah, cash, gold bars, jewels—all that valuable shit's locked in my office safe. Millions of dollars at least. And it gets robbed? Even if they're my men, I won't forgive the baldies. First, seize every penny of their pay.
"Fuck, at least move the safe to my place... Wait, no. Hold up?"
Heading inside, something felt off, and I tilted my head.
"Why can't villains bank? No law against it, right?"
People can be good or bad, but money? Money's just money—no morals.
"Gonna deposit it at a bank. Or buy one and make it mine."
No safer spot than a bank. Vaults tough enough for most superpowers, and they can call Hero Association for hero backup. Villains facing trouble? Three options: strip and run, fix it yourself, or die. Citizens call heroes; villains can't. Begging heroes? You're not a villain anymore—just an idiot.
"Can't trust just any bank with my blood money... Needs to be thief-proof from villains... Only one place."
Hero Bank. Run by the Hero Association, right across from it. Heroes on-site 24/7—even the boldest villain wouldn't touch it.
"Gonna stash my cash there."
Yeah! Heroes are trustworthy!
Anyway, instead of my office, I headed to the basement. Cleared the warehouse junk, opened the hidden door. Only Jungbo and I knew about this secret spot.
"You're here."
"Yeah. How's the bastard?"
"Same as always. Even S-rank, he's on 24/7 anesthesia."
Mark Two greeted me, book in hand. I already knew the status but asked anyway. Rare chat, but sticking to the concept matters. Couldn't keep the silent cool sexy villain bit, but the multiple personality one? Non-negotiable.
"....."
Jet Stream lay unconscious in the secret basement room. IVs full of anesthesia stabbed into every visible vein—arms, legs. Felt it wasn't enough, so one in the heart too. Elephant-knocking doses pumped into him nonstop.
After the war, I'd snuck him here, using clones to fake trails against pursuers. Could've killed him there, but no—not yet.
"Where's the Succubus now?"
"Where else? 83rd district hotel. Been whining for Lamia since yesterday—go shut her up."
"Why not you?"
"You nuts? She'd kill me. Only the real you can handle her."
Mark Two recoiled. Succubus: level 8. Clones: level 7. One slip in sex, she'd drain our essence dry. To safely fuck her, level 10 me had to step up.
"Keep watching him. Need this fucker alive to use his crew."
"Don't worry."
"Good."
Left Jet Stream with Mark Two and headed out. Time to tame the Succubus and meet Jet Stream's survivors in 83rd. But first—
"Gotta check on my king bug."
I headed to a nearby building—not far from the hideout. Looked under construction, entrance sign: No Trespassing.
Ignored it, went in, tsked at the scorch marks on the floor.
"Tch. Hobos snuck in again. Know people died here and still come?"
Hobos sometimes broke in, thinking abandoned. But Steel Armor's turf—my men patrol, caught 'em, shot 'em dead. Lay low after, but now fire pits again.
"Useless fucks. Time to chew out Jungbo."
Told the crew to eat and drink post-Jet Stream fight, but do your jobs first? Nah, I'm not that strict. Do your shit, I won't bother. But why make me nag? Nice weather—air the blankets, sterilize 'em. Back in my day, we did it without being told!
"Speaking of, where's that Jungbo fucker?"
Just wait till I catch him. Gonna ream him with love.
Checked for people, then basement. Like the hideout, secret room here too.
"Hiiiik?!"
"Uwaa! Uwaaa!"
"He's here! He's back! Uw aaaah!"
Bugs freaked and fled at my entrance. Tiny 3-pyeong room—nowhere to go. Smiling at them, I stopped at one bug pen.
"Been good?"
"....."
The hulking Dragonian glared up from the floor.
*****
Time rewind: right after Steel Armor left the hideout, the freshly washed baldies assembled out front. Armed with... terrifying guns! Nah, brooms.
"Clean before the boss beats us to death!"
"But how far?"
"Yeah?"
Gathered to clean, but no clue the extent. Boss was fickle and picky—half-ass the front, 99.99% fucked. He said do it, you do it—no slacking.
"Uh... where's Jungbo?"
"Dunno."
"Fuck."
Sought Jungbo's help—or scapegoat if boss griped later. No Jungbo, no options.
"...Fuck it, clear everything in sight."
"Sigh, fuck."
"What is this..."
Baldies grumbled, started street cleaning. Cleared everything visible—and—
It hit 9pm news.
"Why the fuck are they out there?"
And Steel Armor learned later via news. Yeah. He'd forgotten he ordered the cleanup.