Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Villain and Hero's Joint Investigation
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-Sector 65!
-Sector 62!
-Moving to Sector 55!
Ronister kept feeding Memory Hunter the route of the vehicle that had kidnapped Rachel. At the same time, Memory Hunter relayed the information to Steel Armor, who was racing ahead.
How long had they been moving like that?
-Ah...! Senior! The vehicle’s gone from sight! It must’ve stopped around there! I’ll keep checking the CCTV for now!
"Got it. Thanks. We’ll search the area. Call me the second you spot the vehicle."
-Yes, sir! Senior, and soon we’ll head your way...
Click.
Ronister tried to say more, but Memory Hunter coldly hung up. He then shouted toward Steel Armor.
"Stop! The vehicle vanished around here!"
"..."
Steel Armor, who had been charging ahead at full speed, slammed to a halt. Long skid marks scarred the ground.
"Around here?"
"Yeah. You search that way. I’ll take this side. The vehicle that took Rachel is a black 15-seater."
"Understood."
Steel Armor headed west, while Memory Hunter went east.
The area was a barren wasteland. A few houses, factories, and fields overgrown with weeds.
'Factories...'
Memory Hunter turned toward the factory district. There was no particular reason. It was just his instincts pointing him there.
Long-time Heroes developed a kind of sixth sense. Like veteran detectives who sniffed out culprits on gut feeling.
On top of that, Memory Hunter had read the memories of countless villains and criminals in courtrooms, distinguishing truth from lies.
After sifting through hundreds of criminals' minds, he knew exactly how they operated.
-Hoysma Industries-
The chain-link fence surrounding the factory district bore signs warning that this was private property, trespassing strictly prohibited, and intruders would face legal consequences.
"Hup!"
But Memory Hunter ignored the signs and vaulted the fence.
Normally, he’d need a search warrant, but who cared? That’s why they called him an anti-Hero. He was the type who’d break the law if it got results.
"..."
Gun at the ready for an instant draw, Memory Hunter slipped through the shadows, dodging CCTV cameras as he prowled the factory grounds.
'Hm?'
After about thirty minutes circling the interior, Memory Hunter spotted people huddled around a bonfire, warming themselves.
They didn’t look like factory workers. No one in a suit did hard labor.
'Steel Armor... Damn. Don’t have his number.'
They hadn’t exchanged contacts. In the heat of the moment, with every second counting, it hadn’t crossed his mind. Besides, a Hero and Villain swapping numbers? Weird, right?
Yelling wouldn’t work either—Steel Armor was headed the opposite way, and it’d just alert these guys.
'No choice.'
Memory Hunter decided to go it alone. He melted into the darkness, creeping closer bit by bit. Using cover effectively, they never noticed him approaching.
Memory Hunter stood still and eavesdropped on their conversation by the fire.
"Why the hell are we stuck doing this crap all of a sudden?"
"Beats me. When have we ever known the details? We just do what the bosses say."
"Ugh, what a pain. Just wanna get home and crack a beer."
"Vodka for me."
"When’s the shipment going out?"
"Dawn tomorrow. Other teams are moving too. Once everyone’s in position, we deliver."
"Those lazy bastards. Why not hustle like us? We’re the ones losing out."
"Cut ’em some slack. We had the brats, but they’ve got adults. Plus, it’s not even midnight yet—takes time."
'Bingo.'
Brats. Adults.
From those two words, Memory Hunter knew he’d hit the jackpot.
But he couldn’t charge in to rescue Rachel yet.
Because Memory Hunter lacked any superpower that could take them down in one go.
He was an S-rank Hero, but his ability only let him read memories on contact. Great for detecting crimes or investigations, useless in a fight.
There were ten guys by the fire alone. Who knew how many more lurked inside the warehouse.
Even if he subdued the entrance guards, the ones inside could use the kids as shields. He had to avoid putting the children in danger at all costs.
'First...'
Memory Hunter pulled back to plan, then approach again.
Thud.
"..."
As he backed away stealthily, something touched his back. Nothing was there. If something touched him anyway...
"Hup!"
Memory Hunter rolled forward instantly.
Boom!
A massive fist crashed where he’d stood. No exaggeration—it was truly gigantic, drum-barrel sized.
"Thought we had a rat... Turns out it’s a big one."
"..."
The attacker grinned wickedly. With his freakishly huge arms, he was Big Hand, a C-rank Villain.
"What’s that noise?"
"Over there?"
Worse, the entrance guards had heard the thud and were closing in.
Ten—no, eleven with that monster. Eleven against one.
"Looks like another rough day."
Bang bang bang bang!
Memory Hunter sighed and opened fire on Big Hand.
Bang bang bang!
"Damn it! Slippery bastard!"
"Shoot him! Kill the fucker!"
Even in this disadvantageous spot, Memory Hunter threw everything he had at the enemy.
His power was worthless in combat, but he was a battle-hardened veteran who’d faced countless villains. Most small-time ones, he could handle solo.
Bang bang bang bang!
Whoosh boom!
"Gah! That son of a bitch!"
"Don’t know how you found this place, but it’s your grave!"
An oil drum toppled, spilling its contents. Spotting it, Memory Hunter shot the ground nearby, sparking flames. They hit the oil, igniting it instantly, and the drum exploded.
"What’s going on?!"
Drawn by the gunfire and blast, dozens more men poured from the factory. No reinforcements on his side yet, but theirs kept growing in real time.
A total shitshow for Memory Hunter.
"Memory Hunter’s here!"
"What? How’d the Heroes find us?!"
"Not Heroes! It’s just Memory Hunter!"
"What?"
The criminals all reacted with disbelief.
Memory Hunter was a nightmare to crooks, sure. But only in courtrooms, where they couldn’t fight back.
Without decent powers beyond memory reading, he was just a regular guy—no superhuman edge. Any lone criminal could kill him.
Forgetting how he found them, coming alone was absurd.
Soon, rage boiled over.
"This psycho thinks he can waltz in here?!"
"Kill him! That bastard dies today!"
"He got my brother life in prison!"
The gun-toting thugs gave chase.
"Huff... huff..."
Hiding behind a warehouse, Memory Hunter panted raggedly. Like he’d run a marathon—lungs burning, hands shaking.
"Damn. Should’ve kept up the workouts."
He used to train daily, but after one incident, he stopped. Skipped it to hunt villains, chugging booze instead of eating.
No wonder his stamina tanked. Just minutes of fighting left him wrecked.
"...Hm?"
Suddenly, Memory Hunter realized it was quiet. No more sporadic gunfire or criminal shouts.
In battle, silence always meant crisis.
"Hup!"
His instincts screamed to roll sideways, so he did. Spot on, as always.
Kaboom!
"You rat bastard... Hiding here, huh."
"Shit."
Big Hand loomed from above. Ignoring his gut would’ve meant getting crushed under that meaty arm.
He’d dodged for now, but it wasn’t good.
"Got you at last, Memory Hunter."
"Don’t know what balls you had coming here, but you die today."
"Fucking piece of shit."
Big Hand and over thirty criminals had him surrounded. The moment those muzzles flashed, he’d be Swiss cheese.
"..."
Memory Hunter slowly backed into the factory. Big Hand and the thugs followed.
Already cornered, now he had zero escape.
"Lower your guns, everyone."
Then Big Hand gave an unexpected order. Even more shocking, the others obeyed, smirking wickedly.
"You didn’t think we’d let you off easy, did you?"
"..."
The grudge against Memory Hunter ran deep. Gunning him down was too merciful. They wanted him to suffer long and hard first.
"Why kidnap the kids?"
"What?"
"Ha... What the hell’s this lunatic saying?"
"Gathering intel right now? Haha. Totally insane."
The criminals were impressed, tongues clicking. No wonder he’d climbed to S-rank on plain human ability.
"Think I’ll tell you?"
"You’ve already won, right? Can’t you spare that much?"
"Mercy? Bullshit. You don’t deserve any."
"..."
"And you think we don’t see through you?"
"..."
Big Hand approached smugly.
"Stalling for backup... You think we’d fall for that? You’re dead either way."
"...Right."
"What?"
"You’re spot on. I’m no immortal—gonna die someday. Just not today."
"What’s this psycho babbling? Get over here, you dog. Time for some fun."
"One thing, though. You got something wrong."
"What?"
Memory Hunter smirked back at Big Hand and the jeering criminals.
"It’s not 'soon.' Backup’s already here."
"...Huh?"
Stunned by the claim, the criminals scanned around. Right behind them stood a hulking figure.
A giant man in a balaclava with a skull emblem, arms crossed.
Memory Hunter asked him,
"The kids?"
"Got ’em all out. Used up one generation right here."
"What? What’s that mean?"
"None of your business. Good job stalling. These punks are mine now."
"Who the hell are you?!"
Big Hand bellowed at the masked man.
"Me?"
The man replied.
"I’m Steel Armor."
The man—Steel Armor—grinned and advanced on the criminals.