#157 Taking a Breather
"Those bastards... they seem kinda different," muttered Rabbit Armor, who had been hiding and watching the battle between Steel Armor and the Steam users.
Up until now, the Steam users he'd encountered had differences based on how many doses they'd taken, but one thing was certain—they'd still babble mid-scream. But these new ones couldn't speak at all. On top of that, their animal traits like fur, manes, and tails were blatantly obvious.
"I wish I could just check one of their memories."
That way, he'd know exactly what made them different and what had gone down here. But...
"Kyarr-rung-!"
"Kyaaooo-!"
"Krrung-! Krurrung-!"
"...Let's wait till he cleans 'em up."
Watching the Steam users charge at Steel Armor like rabid beasts stripped of all fear, he had zero desire to step in and read their memories. Steel Armor wasn't gonna go down to those punks anyway, so it was way smarter to just let him handle it.
"Kuhahaha! Who dares knock me down and claim the title of king beast? That ain't enough to take me out! Come on, harder! More ferocious! Tear into my flesh like the animals you are! Kuhahaha!"
"Definitely convenient," said Rabbit Armor with a nod, eyeing Steel Armor as he cackled maniacally and dropped the Steam users one by one.
Memory Hunter's investigative style was so rough and self-serving it barely qualified as heroic. Even if it was a villain's operation, you needed a warrant to search the place. But Memory Hunter ignored procedure entirely—he'd ransack first and ask questions never. If a pissed-off villain shoved him during the aggressive interrogation, it'd be, "Oh? You just hit me? You're fucked," and he'd call in all the heroes on the joint op to trash the joint.
If he were a regular cop, he'd have been fired a hundred times over. But his results were solid, so the Hero Association couldn't just boot him easily. Even fellow heroes hated his guts, and plenty in the Association avoided or straight-up ignored him. Working cases with those types killed any motivation—they wouldn't listen, and even if they showed some enthusiasm, they'd harp on procedure and law until you wanted to die.
Teaming up with heroes was a lose-lose: annoying either way. But Steel Armor? No hesitation with illegal moves or violence since he was a villain. No bullshit about procedures or laws like some pricks. Just tell him to grab 'em, and he'd beat 'em down and drag 'em in.
Heroes weren't supposed to think this way, but the synergy when he teamed up with Steel Armor was off the charts.
"...Think I could get his help later?"
Rabbit Armor murmured, staring at Steel Armor. The low, sunken tone betrayed his foul mood.
Rabbit Armor—no, Memory Hunter—had one enemy he had to get revenge on. But the guy was too damn strong; he couldn't do it alone. Steel Armor, though? The one down there? He could fill that power gap.
"....."
Memory Hunter agonized over Steel Armor, lost in thought.
*****
Once Steel Armor finished off all the Steam users, Rabbit Armor emerged from hiding.
"The power gap's so overwhelming, you make it look easy."
No deaths except the unlucky few caught in that initial grenade blast. Rabbit Armor was impressed by Steel Armor's skill in subduing so many without killing.
"It ain't that simple. Only possible 'cause I've put in the daily grind. Clean takedowns like this? All thanks to my effort."
"Effort? What effort?"
"Effort not to kill 'em? Haven't killed a single soul yet. Perfect No-Kill Rule master."
"...Why you?"
"Huh? Why what?"
Rabbit Armor shot him a baffled look.
"Why do you stick to the No-Kill Rule?"
"What's the point of killing? Just dirties your hands. And you can't just off people willy-nilly."
"....."
Rabbit Armor tilted his head, staring like he'd heard the wildest bullshit.
Anyway, I led Rabbit Armor to one guy—the one who felt like the leader of this pack. Lion Man.
Soon, Rabbit Armor started reading Lion Man's memories.
"Kuh!"
"You good?"
"Goddamn...!"
Mid-read, Rabbit Armor clutched his head and staggered back. He looked ready to collapse, so I rushed over and grabbed his arm.
"These piece-of-shit bastards..."
"What? What'd you see?"
"You'll remember too. When Rachel got kidnapped."
"Yeah? I remember."
"That kidnapping spree wasn't just kids. Adults, children, men, women—they grabbed whoever they could."
How could I forget? If I hadn't stopped by Rachel's place, I never would've seen her or her mom, Emily, again.
Anyway, why were those kidnapping victims suddenly... Wait. No way?
"Hey, no friggin' way?"
"Yeah. Those kidnapping victims? They were the test subjects for developing Steam. Random abductions for human experiments!"
"What the fuck?"
Steam wasn't just some drug. It was proof of sin, brewed from countless humans' blood and proteins!
"Most couldn't handle the side effects and died... These guys here barely survived as the remnants."
"....."
I scanned the area. Steam users littered the ground, taken down by my hand. I'd figured they were junkies who'd ruined themselves—but victims?
"Can we cure 'em?"
"I'm no scientist or doc, so I can't say for sure. The Association's got Divine Healer, but... drug side effects like this? Even he might not fix it."
"Divine Healer?"
Oh, that grandpa? The name jogged my memory quick. A-rank healer with no incurable disease on his record. Basically the heroes' exclusive doc.
Too bad Divine Healer was a dude. If he'd been a hot heroine, I'd have targeted him yesterday. Healers are precious in any game.
But since he was just some old man, I passed. Divine Healer was S-rank famous; a quick search showed pics, and first impression? Quack doc from a sketchy neighborhood clinic. The type wielding a scalpel for a damn cold, calling it life-threatening.
Yet this quack fixed everything. Don't judge a book by its cover, huh?
"We're taking these folks to the Association, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then let's lock 'em up for now."
"Sure... Huh?"
Kiiiiiik-! Kkik-! Kiik-!
"Done!"
"....."
I bent rebar into a massive cage, stuffed the unconscious Steam users inside, and staked it to the ground so no one could haul it off.
"What?"
"...Brute."
"Say that again?"
"Didn't say shit. Lab and production room are below. This way."
I followed Rabbit Armor downstairs.
*****
A few organization grunts tried blocking us, but nothing major. No villains either. Pathetic forces like that could only stall me briefly, so sending more just seemed weird.
The mystery cleared up when we hit what looked like the manufacturing plant.
"Fuck."
No Steam in sight. Or rather, no intact Steam.
"Burning bright, huh."
They'd sent minions to buy time, grabbed what they could, and bolted. The rest? Torched. Papers and USBs burning too—probably Steam recipes or experiment logs.
"Now what?"
"....."
Rabbit Armor stared blankly at the roaring flames. One downside to masks: can't read faces. With the trail cut like this, what was he thinking?
"...This is far enough."
"Huh?"
"Plenty done already."
"What? What're you talking about? We ain't going all the way?"
"We will. But now? Time to catch our breath."
"Catch our breath?"
He nodded and turned.
"Output here can't explain Steam flooding the whole city. There've gotta be other plants. And we know Shadow Killer's behind it. Finding the rest? Easy."
"Hey! Can't we salvage something? We really leaving?"
"Search more if you want. I'm done. Shutting one plant down? Good enough for now. And you—head home."
"What? Why?"
"From here, it's hero Memory Hunter, not villain Rabbit Armor. Your help ends here. Villains go home."
"....."
I crossed my arms, glaring at Rabbit Armor.
Halting the investigation cold? I eyed him for hidden motives. Fuck, mask hides his eyes! Can't use Attraction!
"Shit, wanna know who's making this crap."
"I'll tell ya when I find out."
"For real?"
"Yeah. And I'm keeping this mask."
"Huh? Why?"
Weird—he hated me calling him Rabbit Armor. Figured he'd ditch it, but nah.
"When I go cut off Shadow Killer's air, I'll wear it and call you."
"...Ah, got it. Welcome aboard. I don't pass up prime rib twice."
I grinned wickedly. I got his game.
Right now, Memory Hunter led the Steam hunt citywide. But if word got out he'd solved it as Rabbit Armor—with an S-rank villain like me? Association couldn't just hand him medals. Heroes crossing that line? Bad optics.
So, Steam plant? Hero team credit. But the big fish, Shadow Killer? He'd hook him with me—as Rabbit Armor.
One snag, though...
"How you reporting this to the Association? They'll grill you on the chase, how you subdued the beast-folk outside. Lotsa folks there hate your guts, right?"
"Got it covered. Don't worry. Now go. I'll call for pickup on the sleepers upstairs."
"I'll stick till they arrive. Can't leave you solo and risk messing up my bed."
"Do what you want."
Memory Hunter shrugged and called for heroes and Association staff to rush over.
Thirty minutes later, vehicles pulled up outside the fence. Suited staff and costumed heroes—his reinforcements.
"Good work. Dark circles under your eyes look brutal. Go crash, catch your breath proper."
"Yeah. You too."
I bumped fists with Memory Hunter, then leaped back, exiting the building.
Shame I didn't need my true form. Would've been fun with real heavy-hitters. That's the one real bummer.