Issue the Command
Excluding Mark Four, who's watching Jet Stream, my clones have their own tasks to handle. Sadly, I can't call them here right now—
"Huh? White Knight?"
Suddenly, through my clones' eyes, I spot White Knight entering the secret base. What the hell is that prick doing here? My relationship with that white-clad zealot is far from good. Hell, it's downright shitty. On average, none of the bastards I've beaten like me. Back then, I went full trance mode and wrecked White Knight. I treated the so-called strongest hero like total trash right in front of everyone. The humiliation and shame he must've felt... no doubt massive. Hell, even if he harbors a grudge against me, I'd admit it's justified.
If he shows up, shit gets complicated. One look at me, and his eyes'll roll back in rage. He'd charge like a bull seeing red.
White Knight charging at me? Not scared. I've got the ultimate passive skill: [Once My Bitch, Always My Bitch]. Against pussies like White Knight, I win a hundred out of a hundred.
Problem is, Rachel and Cheetgirl are here. If he goes berserk, I might be fine, but those two? No guarantees on their survival.
Gotta avoid White Knight at all costs. But what's going on over there?
The room where Rachel was held captive by the kidnappers had multiple monitors. They covered corridors, passages, even private rooms—likely linked to the base's internal CCTVs. One screen was black; probably the one I smashed.
"Hmm..."
Anyway, I focused on the monitor next to the black one. Thugs who screamed "villain" were attacking a man—old guy?—wearing massive mechanical gloves on both hands.
"What's up, old man?"
"Not 'old man,' it's Cutie Steel Armor. Anyway, check this out. These little shits are beating on someone. And that unbalanced face and build... that guy's!"
Who is he? I'm not a woman; I don't remember faces unless they're babes. But it rings a bell.
"That guy's... ah, ah!"
"What? You know him?"
"That's one of the S-rank villains, Demon Baron!"
"Aha!"
Rachel clued me in on the man's identity. That's how I remembered: one of the goons who showed up when I bisected Shadow Killer's tits.
"Who's the one getting tormented?"
"That guy's... ah, ah!"
"Huh? Déjà vu? Didn't you say that exact thing earlier, Cutie Armor?"
"P-President!"
"Huh?"
"That's the Hero Association president!"
"...President? Aha!"
Damn, Rachel's sharp. Figures it out just from looking. Hero Association president, huh... Never seen him in person, but I've glimpsed his face and name online. A 70-year-old with a body like a pro athlete—peak self-care. Mask the face, and he'd pass for 30.
Anyway, the president's here... rescuing his granddaughter? But why solo? Heroes outside are clashing hard with Shadow Killer's minions. Teaming up, he wouldn't be in that mess.
"He'll be dead soon."
The president was swinging fists at the villains, putting up a fight, but to me, it was his last stand. The villains blocked casually, and Demon Baron's wounds were all fatal. Plus, bloody footprints trailed him—internal bleeding would finish him even without a kill shot.
"P-President's gonna die?!"
"If left alone, 100%."
"....."
Rachel went blank, shocked at the Hero Association president dying.
"Oh. Cutie Armor, is that your buddy?"
"...Huh? Oh! Yeah!"
Then, on another monitor, I spotted a snake-elder build guy dragging a girl Rachel's age. Asked her; bingo, Isabela.
"Wonder if I can find that path. Navigation's down."
Navigation—er, Dark Lady—was still out cold from the gut punch.
We'll stumble on it eventually.
"Let's go, Cutie Armor."
"....."
"Cutie Armor?"
"Um... old man."
"It's Cutie Sexy Steel Armor."
Originally Cutie Steel Armor as Cutie Armor's sidekick, but reconsidering: I'm a sexy beast, so Cutie Sexy Steel Armor it is. Yeah!
"Can't we... save the president?"
"That old dude? Know where? Plus, gotta rescue Isabela too."
If it was right in front of me, maybe, but unknown location? Can't help.
"But... if the president dies, Isabela'll be sad. Old man, can't you? You're super strong."
"....."
Ugh! Rachel's puppy eyes hit hard. Can't coldly refuse.
Excluding Mark Four on Jet Stream watch, Mark Two, Three, and Five are on standby nearby. My signal, and we'd unleash Gravity Dominator to flatten the area—show the world the cost of messing with me.
But heroes swarmed, and Rachel's begging... fine.
"Cutie Armor?"
"Old man..."
"Right now, you're the hero, I'm your sidekick."
"Huh?"
"So issue the command."
"....."
Rachel stared blankly up at me, lips bitten—emotions surging. Not 'cause she's my chest-born daughter; she's just world's cutest loli!
"...Can't."
"Huh? Why? You wanna save the president, right?"
Changed her mind? Cold-blooded Rachel?
"Cutie Sexy Steel Armor... no way I can call you that..."
"....."
...Cold in a different way.
*****
We split into two teams. One: me (original) and knocked-out Dark Lady. Other: Rachel leading, with two clones and Cheetgirl. One clone felt iffy for protecting her, so doubled up. Left Mark Five to scout outside.
Me (original) to save Hero Association president; Rachel to rescue Isabela.
Smack!
"Hey, wake up already. Gonna sleep forever? Ditch your pals?"
Smack! Smack! Smack!
Smacked Dark Lady's ass to rouse her. Zero pervy intent. Just happened to be carrying her from behind; ass was easiest target.
"Mm! Juicy."
Reiterating: zero pervy intent. Anyway, kept smacking as we wandered till she woke.
"Ugh... ungh..."
After like fifty whacks, Dark Lady groaned awake.
"You know where Demon Baron is? Guide me."
"Ugh... what?"
"This bitch stalls again? Spill it!"
Squeezed her tits. Not gentle fondle—full grip, hard.
They say tits are a woman's balls. She's feeling dick-grab pain right now.
"Guide me to him before he kills Valencia Association President. Or I kill you here."
Of course, no real intent to kill. No ties to the president; his death wouldn't faze me much.
"Fine! I'll guide—just let go of my tits!"
"Okay."
Dark Lady caved surprisingly easy. Tch. Wanted to squeeze more. Again: zero pervy intent.
"Lead fast. From now, you and president's fate-bound. He dies, you die."
"Kgh...!"
Pain from tits plus fury at her situation—tears welled in her glaring eyes. Hot as hell.
You're my spoils of war. Once home, I'll savor Dark Lady. Pissing me off has consequences.
*****
Boom!
"Kahk!"
Hardboiled—Valencia—got kicked by Demon Baron into a wall, puking blood. His longtime partner, mechanical gloves, half-wrecked and useless.
Thirty minutes post-Gumiho's departure, he clung to life, fighting on. Not that Demon Baron and minions toyed; they tried killing for real. His solo endurance for half an hour? Pure grit.
But that last hit drained it. Couldn't twitch a finger. Just slumped against the wall.
"Legend lives up to the name. Didn't expect a wounded beast to last this long."
"Cough! Krgh... kheuk..."
No breath for words, but a smile crept on Hardboiled's lips. He lifted his head with effort, eyes past approaching Demon Baron and villains—to something farther.
Life flashed: montage of his years, emotions vivid.
Good... life.
Hero Association was his other home, family.
Hope my death motivates the heroes.
Once, he saw a hero he admired fall. Not revenge or madness—money. Heroes back then got peanuts for the work. Society demanded low-pay heroism.
Rare disease ate his wife's hospital bills; hero pay couldn't cover. The respected hero took dirty cash: cover-ups, leaks—unthinkable acts.
Shocked, Hardboiled vowed: no hero falls to money. As president, he enacted long-planned reforms, giving heroes abundance.
But he overlooked: human greed is bottomless. Even with wealth, they craved more.
Realization hit: he ignited their desires, spurred corruption. Too late. The true harm to heroes? Not Dark City's system—but himself.
So, he chose death as the ultimate cure. President's villain-slaying would shake the Association. From chaos, a true hero would rise, building a just one.
"Rest now."
Demon Baron raised his devil arm, inches away.
Ah... dear! I... miss you so.
Facing death, Hardboiled saw his late wife's apparition, beaming.
Running after shitting? Who's cleaning that?
'...Huh?'
Shit-talk now? Wrong vibe...
Your shit, you clean. Did I teach you that? Heroes don't run.
No... shouldn't it be 'I miss you' or 'rest together'?
Tsk!
"....."
Wife clicked tongue; Valencia shut up. Note: his wife was a senior hero who taught him, saved him from villains. Smitten by her badass rescue, he chased her daily till marriage.
Rest later. Together. Okay?
Dear...
Just a bit more hardship, my proud hero husband.
Dear! Dear! Dear!
Her final words faded. Valencia called desperately, but gone.
About to die—more hardship?
"Hey! Ugly fuck! Hold—"
"?!"
"Stop!"
Whirr—thud!
"Kheuk?!"
Demon Baron, about to end it, rocketed up into the ceiling. Other villains flew apart.
He instantly got his wife's meaning.