Steam Users (1)
Body Enhancer (Lv.10/27.00%), Clone Master (Lv.10/19.00%)
Superpower Creation Tickets: 2
Superpower Level Up Tickets: 17
"It went up 10%."
By sending the three villains Karinbia had told him about off to America, he'd managed to snag 10% experience.
"Haa... what a pain."
Looking at the gauges that still weren't even half full, a sigh escaped him naturally. At this rate, when the hell was he going to level up?
There was one annoying thing about this world—everything else was great, but this one hassle. What was it? There were way too many superpowers with similar effects but different names.
Take Ice Queen, who handled ice, for example. Her superpower was called Frost Queen. But there were plenty of other ice-based powers out there. Freezer Mage, Ice Emperor, Glacier Wanderer, and so on... Tons of them, all with the same effects but different names.
They might as well be treated as the same power since the effects matched, but no—this damn world counted them all as separate superpowers.
"That's why my body's turned into a freaking canvas."
His body was covered in superpowers dumped on him by villains on their way to America, ones they no longer needed. Useless tattoos that were superpowers he had no real use for—like awkward duck eggs he couldn't cook or toss.
"Those damn bastards... How dare they dump their crap on me...!"
Thinking of the villains who'd handed off their junk to him and hopped on a flight to America made his hands and feet tremble with rage. And here they were, probably living it up in Las Vegas with booze, women, and gambling?
He wanted nothing more than to grab them by the hair and drag them back to Dark City right that second.
"Hoo... Don't hate others..."
Reciting Buddha's words, he swallowed his boiling anger. He was a man who couldn't go to America, after all.
"Guess I'll just bury my face in Elis's tits."
That'd restore his peace of mind in an instant. With that, he drove straight to his house where Elis was waiting.
*****
Squeak-!
After Steel Armor left, a group of people appeared. Their appearance was downright bizarre. Though clearly capable of walking on two legs, they crawled on all fours. Their hair was a matted mess, and their clothes were soaked in filthy sewer water, as if they'd been swimming in a drain.
Squeak-! Squeak squeak-!
Though they could speak human words, they mimicked rat squeaks instead. The creepy part? Their voices were perfectly identical to real rats.
They entered the house Steel Armor had just cleared out, leaving only one survivor behind. The noisy gunfire, screams, and stench of blood had drawn these rat-mimickers like a beacon.
"Ugh... Uh, wh-what the hell are these?!"
The man groaning on the floor spotted the late arrivals and freaked out.
Squeak-! Squeak squeak-!
"What the fuck are you beggar shits?! Get lost!"
The man lashed out, shoving and hitting the ones sniffing around him. Their eyes instantly turned bloodshot red, as if about to bleed.
Squeak-! Screeeee-!
"Aaaagh!"
"Help!"
The rat-mimickers tore into the men like wild beasts. Incidents like this were spreading across Dark City like a plague.
*****
'Did I become a Hero Association director for this?'
One of the directors gathered in the conference room suddenly had that thought.
Being a Hero Association director was a prestigious position with a fat salary and the respect of many. It had taken immense hardship to reach this spot—endless humiliations and ugly sights endured with grit. But now? What the hell was this?
Lately, instead of pride, he just felt self-loathing.
"It's no longer possible to control the information."
"Yeah... This is frustrating as hell."
Valencia, the association president, furrowed his brow. Could the Hero Association really be in such dire straits? They'd faced one catastrophe after another: the defeat of their strongest hero, White Knight; all-out war with Shadow Killer's forces; the theft of Siren's Heart; Jenaraider, an S-rank hero, and Tough Guy, the mental pillar for so many heroes, both retreating into seclusion; and now terrorist group Alqaeda's attacks on Hero Bank and widespread terror.
Even the near-death of Sanctuary Corp's Vice President Stephanie Yu—which almost soured relations with Chairman Bal Ji-woon—felt minor by comparison.
No matter how tight their ties with the media, this chain of events made cover-ups impossible. And now, mass murders on top of it all!
'Screw this, I just wanna get drunk.'
Valencia's head felt ready to explode from the frustration.
"Is this even possible? Scratch that—it's happening, so it must be."
Assaults, robberies, murders—villain crimes had spiked dramatically. The association figured it was newbie villains or wannabes with fresh powers running wild, so they dispatched heroes to nab them.
But as time passed, they realized this wasn't simple.
"Steam... I need Steam..."
"Shut up, you punk."
"Without Steam, I'll die! I'm dying...! Uh, ugh..."
"This fucker. Cut the act and shut your mouth. Or els—huh?"
"Uwaaaagh!"
"Wh-what? Hey, kid! Snap out of it! Breathe! Hey!"
48 hours after detaining a captured villain, the guy just died. No torture, nothing—he croaked on his own.
"Uwaaa...!"
"H-help..."
"Guhk...!"
Most captured villains followed suit, forcing the association to realize the crime surge wasn't coincidence.
They rushed autopsies on the dead villains and uncovered a shock: Villains were superpowered criminals. But these dead ones? No powers.
The association was baffled—they'd had powers upon capture. Now gone? Unbelievable.
Sensing a massive conspiracy, Valencia deployed S-rank hero Memory Hunter, their top investigator. Physically average, but his memory-reading was unmatched.
Soon, they learned Steam, a new drug, temporarily awakened superpowers in normals.
"Memory Hunter, what's your take?"
"What take? We catch the bastard who made that horrific shit, the ones selling it to civilians—every last one."
Memory Hunter replied flatly, his furrowed brows screaming dissatisfaction. Chasing Steam's creators was priority, yet here he was in a pointless meeting.
"Memory reads didn't reveal the maker?"
"They're careful. Different drop spots every time, handlers' memories all vary. Boss is hidden tight—no leads."
"Got it. Meeting's over for today. Everyone, stay vigilant and monitor developments."
"Yes, sir."
The meeting ended without solutions.
*****
District 80 housed Steel Armor's drug factory. Rebuilt after Jet Stream's villains torched it.
Under heavy guard, workers in gas masks churned out drugs. The air was laced with narcotics—enter without a mask, risk addiction. Walls bore signs: No entry without gas mask.
Steel Armor's threat: Get addicted, you die.
"Aigoo~ Hello there~?"
"Huh?"
"Who the hell are you?"
Late night, after sunset, Skull Head gang members guarding the factory aimed guns at the fearless approaching man.
He threw up his hands in surrender.
"Whoa! Spare me! As you see, no weapons on me!"
He lifted his coat to prove it. The gang didn't lower their guns.
"What business? Outsiders forbidden."
"Hahaha. Outsiders become insiders all the time, right? See, I brought this."
Grinning cheekily, he pulled a syringe from his 007 briefcase. Inside: thick green liquid like veggie juice.
"Veggie juice?"
"..."
The members actually thought it was juice. Boss's bald head must run in the ranks... ahem.
Before more misconceptions, he clarified.
"Know Steam?"
"Steam? Steam pack? That Marine and Baneling thing?"
"Steam... the new trending drug?"
One knew it. The man beamed, no need for more explanation.
"Right. Injecting straight into veins beats snorting—better effects, longer duration. Sells way more than what you're making. Deal?"
"Hmm..."
Tempted, they eyed the offer. Steam's addictive rep was news-worthy. More profits for sure.
"Come back tomorrow. No authority here. We'll tell boss—return then."
"Of course. Oh, this is a gesture of goodwill."
He nodded, handed over the Steam briefcase, promised to return same time tomorrow, and left.
"Rookie, show boss this."
"Now?"
"Now or next year? Hurry your ass!"
"Got it..."
Under senior's glare, the rookie grabbed a syringe and headed to Steel Armor's District 78 base.
And then...
"Hey, wanna try this?"
"What? Crazy? Boss said no mercy for drug users!"
"Fuck, boss won't care about grunts like us. One hit won't addict. Willpower beats drugs!"
"W-willpower...!"
"Yeah! Don't underestimate our mental strength!"
"We won't crumble to this shit!"
A baldie spouted dogshit mentalism, bizarrely firing up the others.
Poke-!
"Kuh... This shit's killer!"
"Uwooo... Guh! Haha! Insane!"
They injected Steam into themselves, oblivious to the consequences.