Operation: Forging Better People
'Saved your ass, Jungbo. I'll be working you to the bone from here on out.'
I covered his overdue hospital bills and even footed the bill for a VIP room. It was a hefty sum. Pocket change for me, of course. But if you've got worries weighing on you at home, you can't focus on work. I've sorted out his mom's issue, so he'll pour even more effort into managing the organization from now on.
Anyway, with Jungbo's problem taken care of, it was time to tackle the next one: the Skull Head grunts, aka the Baldies.
Jungbo at least handles the tasks I give him and takes care of organization business. But these Baldies? They barely do jack shit. Their only job is selling the drugs once they're produced at the factory. Otherwise, it's free time all day. No cushier gig in the world.
Me slacking off? Fine. But watching these other punks—especially the Baldies—kick back and rake in cash? I'd rather die.
"Hey."
"Huh? What?"
I called out to Memory Hunter, who was sprawled on the sofa like it was his own damn bedroom, chuckling at a comic book. The sight pissed me off to no end, but I held it in. The guy was a goldmine for high-level Hero Association intel.
"Anything you need for building that school?"
"How the hell should I—wait, school?"
Memory Hunter, who'd been half-assing his reply, shot me a weird look. What, you little shit? Weird that school came out of my mouth?
"You're building a school? You? Why?"
"Why? 'Cause this is a place where people live, and there are tons of kids here. How many do you think actually go to school?"
District 78 splits into two types: folks with decent cash, and the dirt-poor. The slums dominate the population, so naturally, kids are everywhere. But no money means most kids of school age aren't in class. And the Baldies' kids? Same deal—most don't go. Even if they did, being the spawn of criminals doesn't win you friends. Bullying's guaranteed, and even the teachers—who're supposed to guide kids straight—discriminate like hell. They're robbed of education and a shot at going legit.
So screw it—better I build a school just for the Baldies' kids. Do it right, and I could have generations loyal to me.
Time to whip these Baldies into shape properly. And since we're at it, let's go big—like piling up a massive snowman.
First up: the school. Build it, and the Baldies will ship their kids there in a heartbeat. Parents might've botched their own lives, but they all dream their kids won't.
"So you're building a school for charity? You, a villain?"
"What's that got to do with anything? No law says villains can't build schools."
"True. But charity ain't your angle. What's the real play?"
"I gotta spell it out for you?"
"Nah. But I'm curious."
Fair enough.
"You saw 'em earlier, right? The Baldies who showed up late after you left."
"Yeah."
"Embarrassing, but those are my guys. Humans with heads on their shoulders, but why are they so goddamn stupid? I pondered that. Came to one conclusion."
"Which is?"
"Baldies are dumb 'cause they never went to school."
"That's your big revelation?"
"Yup. So I'm building a school to grow 'em some brains."
"You're a weird one. You sure you're a villain?"
"Am I a hero? Nah, I'm the supervillainiest supervillain out there."
I schooled Memory Hunter on true villainy and kicked off the grand [Steel Armor Chairman's Great School-Building Operation!]
***
Obviously, I'm not micromanaging this myself. Why bother with the hassle when I could squeeze in one more fuck instead?
Jungbo will handle it when he gets back. He'll figure it out.
But before the school, new houses first. The Baldies' shacks were one kick from collapsing. Hell, I could boot one over easy.
"...Boss."
"Yeah?"
"What're we building?"
"Houses. Ones you'll actually live in."
"....."
"....."
The Baldies I'd summoned stared up at me blankly. Yeah, bet it's touching—me building homes for you.
"Hands up if you've got families."
Snap! Half raised their hands.
"You comfy raising kids in houses where guns go off daily and a nudge sends 'em tumbling?"
No answers, but they nodded—got the point.
"So I'm building you safe homes. Real homes breed dreams and hope, y'know."
I kept going.
"And I cannot stand watching you lazy fucks lounge around! Fuck, I'm the Skull Head boss, and I'm busting my ass most! What do you do? Sell drugs—that's it! You lazy-ass slackers! Your easy gigs end today! Go build houses, you bald bastards! No more group sun salutes!"
Shaving heads like that? Conspiracy to blind me, then assassinate and steal the gang! Not on my watch!
"Go! Build your homes! Got it?!"
"B-Boss."
"What!"
One bold Baldie raised his hand. Trying to object? Try it—I'd counter with a Siren-crushing punch.
"How do we build houses?"
"....."
What an idiot.
"How the fuck should I know? Grab a construction company prez!"
"Yes, sir!"
The Baldies swarmed out. Minutes later, back they came.
"P-Please, spare me! I don't know what I did, but I'm sorry!"
A battered middle-aged guy dangled from their grip. They'd actually beaten a construction prez to snag him.
Never seen such fist-first morons! But priorities—I approached the groveling prez.
"You're the guy?"
"Eeeeek! S-S-S-Steel Armor!"
"Fuck, why does everyone stutter S-S-S-Steel Armor? Just say Steel Armor, damn it!"
"Spare me! I've committed a mortal sin! Please, just my life...!"
"Yeah?"
First time meeting, but he'd sinned against me somehow. Hence the groveling.
Perfect.
"Spare you?"
"Yes! Please! I've got aging parents waiting at home and—"
"Stop. Don't care about your sob story."
"....."
I squatted eye-level.
"I'll spare you if you do one job."
"J-Job?"
"Don't want it? Die here?"
"N-No! Anything! I'll stake my life on it!"
"Good attitude. Build houses for these guys."
"...Houses?"
***
CRASH!
"You know this is assault, kidnapping, extortion, right?"
"What're you on about? Who'd I hit? Kidnap? Threaten?"
Memory Hunter and I chatted idly, watching Baldies demolish houses by hand.
"Who but a villain could be this shameless."
"Told ya—I'm villainier than villainy itself."
"Hah... you wear it like a badge."
"Damn right."
"Razing all the houses at once—where do the residents go? Streets?"
"Whoa, a hero worrying about criminals?"
"Your grunts are crooks, not their families."
"Fair."
I nodded. Us and the Baldies? Crooks. Families? Not.
"Don't sweat it. They're in good spots now."
"Good spots?"
"Yeah, those exist."
True story. Baldies' families were scattered in hotels across my turf. Succubus handled it—I repaid her with a deep hug. And a creampie-packed pussy.
"Hm... Steel Armor."
"Yeah?"
"Villain shit—you'd know best. Heard anything on Shadow Killer?"
"Shadow Killer? Nah. Haven't seen that fucker since I split him like a pancake. Dead maybe?"
"Doubt it. He's not the type."
"Yeah, me too."
"...You don't know either."
His tone soured. I glanced—he was biting his lip, pissed. What's his deal with Shadow Killer?
Usually a wild wolf, but mention Shadow Killer and he charges like a bull at red.
Tangled with him bad, huh.
I don't underestimate Memory Hunter, but against Shadow Killer? Outclassed. Memory-reading superpower's cool, but combat? Special forces tier at best.
"Alright, I'm heading in."
"Huh? Not watching more?"
"What's left? Better drink inside than choke on dust."
"When you head back to the Association, pay up for all the booze you've chugged. That's premium stuff."
"Thanks. I'll enjoy it."
"Hey! I said pay!"
Memory Hunter vanished into the hideout.
"...That punk's just sticking around for my liquor, huh?"
Solid suspicion.
***
Obviously, a prez and Baldies don't magic up buildings. Baldies swing knives and guns fine, but hammers? Nope.
So the prez's crew joined the massive housing project.
"Get that up there."
"The fuck, punk?"
"...Please climb up, sir."
Construction workers were tough, daily grind-hardened. But real gangsters? They folded. Baldies' home turf, outnumbered too. No choice.
Still, I ordered 'em to hustle for their homes—they obeyed, grumbling.
"Emily."
"Hah... hah... What?"
Emily panted in my arms, gazing up. Too tempting—I kissed her deep. Then:
"Ever thought of moving?"
"Moving? Why?"
"Security here's shit. What if beasts eye you and Rachel?"
"Heh. That's the worry? Don't sweat it—I carry that gun you gave me everywhere."
Emily smiled. I'd love her, Rachel, and Cheetergirl at my place. Yuna's going independent, so I offered. She hesitated but agreed.
One more roommate? Why not Emily's crew? But nah—orgies with Rachel around? Even sex-fiend me can't flash 29+ rated scenes on a kid.
So with the Baldies' mega housing project, I'd relocate Emily there. Guards or not, trouble lurks.
"Rachel was born here. It's rundown, but... I don't wanna leave."
"...I see. Can't force ya."
Shame. Real shame.