Conciliation
"Do you have any idea who is kneeling before you right now?"
The Association Chairman's fury reverberated through the auction hall, thick with righteous outrage.
"I'm not sure. Apple users, perhaps?"
"What?"
"Pardon the intrusion, Chairman, but what kind of phone do you use?"
Trauma regarded him with a calm, unblinking gaze through his eye-patterned mask, his thumbs already tapping away at his smartphone screen.
Ding!
Right on cue, a notification alert chimed from the Chairman's pocket.
"...!"
Instinctively, the Chairman glanced down at his device. In an instant, the color drained from his face, leaving him ashen and stumbling on his feet.
"What in God's name is..."
Gasping for breath, he squeezed his eyes shut, a violent shudder wracking his frame as he forced himself upright. "You are utterly insane. To wield such a grotesque, terrifying abomination as a weapon..."
"I hardly think that's appropriate coming from the head of an organization that butchers human beings into weapons and carves out hearts to bestow Mysteries," Trauma replied smoothly.
"You insolent bastard!"
A roar tore from the Chairman's throat, and an azure glow erupted behind his eyes. In fact, it was not merely his eyes—his entire body began to radiate an intense, cerulean luminescence.
"An unfortunate outcome for you, but such sinister trickery will not work on me."
The Chairman possessed the Concept of Endurance. He was one of the Seven Heavenly Virtues who had quelled the Seven Great Evils of the past, standing as living pillars guarding the modern world.
"Well, it would be quite troublesome for me if an esteemed member of the Seven Heavenly Virtues couldn't even withstand that much," Trauma said, his tone dry and unimpressed.
"..."
"Though even for the bearer of Endurance, that seemed rather taxing, didn't it? Your complexion looks dreadful."
"...Tsk."
Clicking his tongue, the Chairman raised a trembling hand to massage his temple. Fine wrinkles deepened at the corners of his eyes. Clearly, the strike had landed a palpable blow.
"What I endure once, I can endure a hundred times over," the Chairman growled. "Stare at anything long enough, and the senses dull."
"My gallery has plenty of other fascinating pictures, if you care to test that theory."
"Then I simply shall not look."
Shutting his eyes tight, the Chairman took a deliberate step toward Trauma. "I have grasped the nature of your ability. So long as I sever my line of sight, I have nothing to fear."
"Well, I have plenty of ways to dismantle someone without relying on visual mediums... but are you truly prepared for this?"
Trauma lightly twitched his fingers, transmitting an unspoken command to the VIPs sprawled prostrate across the floor.
"Are you truly prepared to fight me right here, right now?"
"..."
"Even without stripping off their masks, I know who they are. These people hold the entire world in the palms of their hands."
"Ngh..."
The VIPs raised their trembling hands in unison and clamped them tightly around their own throats. The Chairman swallowed a dry lump in his throat.
"Would it truly be acceptable if every last one of them were discovered at the seminar with their necks snapped?"
"Wait. Hold your hand."
"Chairman. You are hardly in a position to be barking orders." Trauma offered a thin, razor-sharp smile. "The moment you have hostages you cannot afford to abandon, I hold the whip hand, and you are at my mercy."
A suffocating silence descended over the auction hall.
"...I concede," the Chairman finally murmured, raising both hands in a gesture of truce. "So. What is it you want?"
"What do I want?"
"You would not have orchestrated an outrage like this without an objective."
"Truth be told, I don't want anything."
As Trauma replied in an airy, cheerful cadence, the Chairman's features twisted in disbelief.
"I was simply pissed off, so I threw a tantrum on an impulse."
"You wretched..."
"Ah, but something did just come to mind. Something I want."
The furrow between the Chairman's brows twitched. Drawing a long, measured breath, he forced his voice into a semblance of composure. "What is it?"
Trauma lowered his voice to a conspiratorial murmur. "Intelligence on Dominating Hands."
"...Did you say intelligence on Dominating Hands?"
The Chairman's mind spun into frantic calculation. Were Trauma and Dominating Hands truly not in league after all?
The supervillain known as Trauma was an enigma wrapped in shadow. Rumors swirled endlessly across society—some claimed he was Kang Haneul, others insisted he was a top-secret weapon engineered by the Villain League, while wilder theories whispered that he was an eldritch beast mimicking human form.
Yet the Chairman possessed an invaluable asset: that child. The Child of Prophecy, who had collaborated with him for years and had never once delivered an erroneous prediction.
And recently, the Child of Prophecy had foretold that Trauma would eventually stand on the side of the Hero Association. Her credibility had already been forged in the fires of countless major incidents and the lucrative dividends they yielded.
Furthermore, intelligence delivered by a reliable operative embedded within Dominating Hands corroborated that Trauma held no official allegiance to the Villain League.
If so, why did he seek information on them?
"I have a personal debt to settle with those bastards," Trauma continued, providing the missing link. "Hand over everything you know about them, and I'll let these fine folks go. How does that sound?"
A vendetta, the Chairman thought. Trauma harbored a private grudge against the Villain League. While not entirely verified, it was by far the most rational conclusion under the circumstances.
He must have been aiming for this from the very beginning. Otherwise, no sane individual would have launched such a suicidal stunt in the dead center of the International Hero Seminar, surrounded by enemies on all sides. He was either driven by a hatred so profound it bordered on madness, or executing a madness calculated down to the millimeter. To the Chairman, either possibility was a welcome blessing.
"...Follow me." Having reached his conclusion, the Chairman turned his back with a quiet, hidden smile. "There is something I must show you."
Pitting barbarian against barbarian. The ancient adage echoed warmly through his mind.
Only moments earlier, I had been wound tighter than a bowstring, mentally preparing for an all-out bloodbath.
"If you had an objective, you should have voiced it sooner. We could have resolved this easily through dialogue," the Chairman remarked amicably. "By the way, what ability do you possess? What Concept dwells within your flesh?"
"...?"
Suddenly, the old man was acting like my lifelong confidant. I had only thrown out that question about Dominating Hands to test how much the Association actually knew about them. What was this? Had senility finally scrambled his brains?
"Don't you know it's bad manners to pry into someone's Concept?" I asked.
"Haha, is that so?"
Regardless of his motives, the situation wasn't unfavorable for me. The hostages remained firmly under my control, and the Chairman had completely retracted the killing intent he had been emitting earlier.
"All Top-Ranking Heroes were touchy about it in the beginning," the Chairman said with a low chuckle. "Though these days, openly disclosing one's Concept has become standard etiquette."
The real danger here was still the Top-Ranking Heroes stationed throughout the venue. Even if the Chairman wore an oily smile right now, the moment he changed his mind, every top-tier hero in the vicinity would descend upon this spot. If that happened, could I handle them? Without unleashing Justia's power, taking them on would be an uphill battle, even with a wall of human shields.
...What if I used it at maximum output, though? If I threw all caution to the wind, disregarded the catastrophic recoil, and unleashed every ounce of firepower at my disposal... maybe I could end everything right here, once and for all.
"Ah, at any rate, take this."
Pulled from my dark thoughts, I looked down as the Chairman reached into his breast pocket and produced a document.
"What is this?"
"The headquarters, clandestine safehouses, and primary production facilities of Dominating Hands that we have successfully identified."
I took the file casually, but according to his words, its contents were far heavier than I had anticipated. Flipping through this would reveal just how deeply the Association had breached the Villain League's inner circle.
"Oh?"
I opened the folder with a faint smirk, but within seconds, the smile vanished, and my expression froze solid.
"What is the matter?"
"...Nothing."
It was identical. Down to the finest detail, it mirrored the classified security file Paradise had shown me—the exact layout and coordinates of our safehouses. No, calling it identical was an understatement. It was a direct, verbatim copy. If the Hero Association launched a coordinated, all-out strike using this dossier, Dominating Hands would suffer catastrophic, near-total annihilation.
"This is... surprisingly thorough," I managed to say, struggling to keep the tension from bleeding into my voice.
"Is it?"
"How on earth did you secure information of this caliber?"
A subtle, knowing smile touched the Chairman's lips. "We have an informant."
"...!"
"The data arrived mere moments ago. Ninety-nine percent reliability. Completely trustworthy."
It was undeniable. Information of this precision was impossible to acquire unless leaked directly by a high-ranking insider. Yet within the upper echelons of the Villain League, barely a handful of people had clearance to access these files.
Which means... could it be...?
"Now then, this way."
Cold sweat traced down my neck as my thoughts spiraled, but the Chairman was already disengaging the electronic locks on a massive steel blast door, gesturing for me to follow.
"Where are we going?"
Frankly, having secured all the intelligence I could have dreamed of, my sole desire was to get the hell out of here. I needed to warn the Villain League at once.
"To the chamber where another decisive piece of information awaits."
Yet turning on my heel and fleeing now would arouse suspicion in even the densest fool. Moreover, curiosity gnawed at me over what this 'decisive piece of information' could possibly be. Suppressing my mounting unease, I stepped forward.
"Come, introduce yourself."
"This is..."
Passing through the heavy blast door and navigating a winding corridor for several minutes, we arrived at the innermost sanctum of the International Hero Seminar. What awaited me there was an unfathomable abyss.
"...'Truth.' A fragment of The Great Being."
"Ugh...?"
A colossal black heart beat with a sickening, wet rhythm. Innumerable pitch-black tentacles coiled around its perimeter, writhing and churning violently as though celebrating our arrival.
"Anyone lacking formidable mental resilience would lose their sanity simply by gazing upon it," the Chairman murmured.
"Ngh..."
"Just as I suspected, your ability belongs to the mental domain."
I tried frantically to tear my eyes away, but my neck refused to obey. I strained to squeeze my eyelids shut, but they wouldn't budge an inch. A terrifying sensation of plummeting into an endless void washed over me, dragging my consciousness into murky fog.
"Transfer. You did well bringing Truth here."
"It is my greatest honor to serve Truth, Chairman."
Through the haze of my slipping awareness, a familiar voice drifted in—Rank 4 Hero Transfer, whom I had encountered earlier.
"Come, Mr. Trauma. Become one with us."
Her silken, hypnotic whisper brushed against my ear. Now I understood why the Chairman had suddenly acted so cordially and handed over crucial files without resistance.
"I shall return to the floor, then. The conference is about to begin," the Chairman said.
"Yes, sir."
"Ensure Truth is bestowed upon his body before I return."
"Understood."
This had been their intention from the start.
"O Truth. Here stands one who yearns for your boundless grace." As the heavy steel blast door sealed shut behind the Chairman, Transfer began to caress the pulsing heart with an expression of pure, ecstatic devotion. "Pray, grant him your Truth..."
Squish, squelch...
A thick, writhing tentacle separated from the mass and slithered slowly toward me. I tried to reach for my smartphone, but my limbs remained petrified stone.
Is that really my only option left? In this desperate corner, only one card remained in my hand.
Skill: Heavy Strike (Lv. Max) cannot be activated with your current stats!
Forcing its activation carried a ruinous price.
Grrit...
A dark, reckless impulse flared within me. What if I just blast everything to kingdom come? Knowing how dangerous this was, did I follow him down here because deep inside, I wanted to end it all?
Slither...
Had I lingered on that thought for a single second longer, I would have triggered the skill without hesitation. That is, if the reaching tentacle hadn't abruptly lunged past me—and wrapped tightly around Transfer's throat.
"Khk—?!"
"Ghk?! H-hehk...?"
Hoisted into the air by her neck, Transfer flailed her limbs in sheer terror, her complexion draining to ghostly white. Violent static crackled across her skin as she attempted to teleport, but the glitching light fizzled out, snapping her back into physical reality.
Her ability was suppressed?
Stunned, I took a step back, only to pause when I saw the distant doorway already choked with a dense web of writhing tentacles. Then, a sudden realization struck me like lightning.
...Wait.
"I can move?"
Before I knew it, every trace of paralysis had vanished. My body responded perfectly.
Slither...
Just as a wave of relief washed over me at reclaiming control, another tentacle crept up beside me.
Sway, sway...
To my utter bewilderment, the appendage began swaying rhythmically in front of me, almost like a cobra dancing to a flute.
"Jesus Christ, you startled me!" The sight was so grotesque that a curse slipped out reflexively as I recoiled a step.
Flump...
At my sharp reaction, the tentacle seemed to wilt, drooping onto the cold floor like an admonished puppy.
"What is this...?"
A strange, incredible thought crept into my mind. Could it be that this thing—for reasons beyond my comprehension—was actually friendly toward me?
"Tentacle. Give me your paw."
Adopting an 'if it works, it works' attitude, I held out my open hand with a dubiously arched brow. Instantly, the wilted tentacle perked up, coiling like a serpent as it rose from the ground.
"...Ugh."
It wound its slick, rubbery bulk around my hand, wriggling with unmistakable affection.
Does Hypnosis share some kind of bizarre affinity with tentacles...?
I had no clue what metaphysical absurdity was playing out, but without question, this was a golden opportunity handed to me on a silver platter.
"Ghk... aagh..."
Catching sight of Transfer still struggling on the brink of asphyxiation, a brilliant idea flashed through my head.
"Tentacle. Don't strangle her."
"Haah, haah...!" Dropped to the floor, Transfer sucked in ragged lungfuls of air.
If the Association already possessed the exact locations of our headquarters and manufacturing hubs, Plan A was dead in the water. We couldn't afford to sit back and wait to be hunted; we had to strike first.
"Instead, burrow deep into every corner of her body and squeeze tight."
"...H-hieek?!"
It seemed today would be the day the true nature of these Kaijin was dragged into the broad light of day.
A short while later.
"Has everyone arrived?"
Inside the Seminar Central Conference Room, the Association Chairman looked across the assembly of world-class Top-Ranking Heroes taking their seats. Clearing his throat, he broke the silence.
"Today marks a historic turning point. Therefore..."
Ding!
At that precise moment, a sharp chime cut through the air from the Chairman's smartphone.
"Gasp."
Conditioned by the previous horror, he flinched violently and clamped his palm over the screen.
Slide...
Holding his breath, the Chairman parted his fingers by a millimeter, cautiously inspecting the screen pixel by agonizing pixel.
"...Damn it all!"
Having finally registered the contents of the alert, the Chairman surged to his feet, cursing at the top of his lungs.
"How the hell did she break out?!"
On the live feed, Transfer was right in the middle of the crowded seminar concourse—eyes rolled back into her skull, trembling violently in an agonizing trance.
"What are you all standing around for?!"
Thick, grotesque tentacles burst out from every pore of her flesh, tearing the grand venue into utter pandemonium.
"Lock down every sector of the seminar! Immediately!!"
The Chairman's frantic roar shattered the composure of the conference room.