Chapter 6: Red Hair. White Mask.
The woman boarding the yacht in waiter attire, with red hair and a white mask, is unmistakably Marian. Her hair color's different, but it's definitely her.
Is she insane?
What the hell is she doing sneaking in here? This is Earth Boss's birthday bash. Every hero in the world lines up to pay respects, and even their WWE partner villains show up with gifts.
I wonder what gave her the balls...
It's me!
In the original story's first chapter, she got caught right away. But thanks to my intervention, she probably made it home safe. Plus, she took down Hero Mirror, so her unfounded confidence must be through the roof. Every hero in the world probably looks like they belong under her boot right now.
...She's screwed.
If Marian dies, she revives as an outer god immediately. And if she outs herself as a villain at the heroes' gathering, arch-enemy or not, it's instant "arrest." That triggers the outer god raid—and there's no winning that. Even Elizaveta, 99% of Earth's firepower, is just a mortal against an outer god.
"Hoo..."
I tore at my hair for a bit, then sorted out the situation.
1. Boss's birthday party is underway.
2. There's an uninvited guest.
3. The guest is a terrorist.
So my job is simple.
Marian, you're banned from our party...!
Inside the yacht. A massive banner hung in the party hall.
Happy Birthday to Her Majesty "Queen"
Whoever wrote that tacky font wouldn't see tomorrow's sunrise. I offered silent condolences to the poor designer and took a seat.
At the bar in one corner of the hall, a masked bartender wiped glasses with a pissed-off look. Her awkward stance and hair matching the party host's exact shade were drawing aggro, but she seemed oblivious.
The surrounding heroes eyed her suspiciously, like "No way a villain would crash here."
But surprise! It's the real villain!
This is driving me nuts...
To calm my frustration, I raised a hand for a drink.
"Hey, waiter. Make me a strong rocks—lots of ice."
The bartender muttered something like "What a fucking asshole" under her breath and slammed a glass down in front of me.
"Milk for the baby hero, sir."
Low-brow provocation. Not enough to faze a proper hero.
"Too cold. I prefer it warm. Can't you heat it up?"
"...Hand it over."
"Nah. Feels like it'd come back with ice cubes if I trusted you. Oh, were you planning to use a microwave instead of your powers? In that case, pretty please."
"You little—!"
Hmm, still cold. Ignoring the stinging glares—probably pitying me for drinking milk out of consideration for the bartender's "effort"—I finished it and slid the empty glass back, casually broaching the topic.
"Today, I just wanna be a normal person, not a hero."
"What a sight... Did I give you the wrong booze?"
"Hey, waiter."
The bartender glared, saying nothing. Clearly prompting me to continue.
"Mind chatting for a bit? Strictly person to person. Not as "Death's Des" from wherever—"
"Fuck off! Why'd you say my—"
"Who was that?! Who just cussed?!"
"Who dares spew filth at Her Sacred Majesty's birthday party?!"
The bartender clammed up as eyes turned her way. She sighed deeply and set another glass in front of me.
"On the house. Drink up and fuck off."
Bubbly clear liquid. Soda.
"No cola?"
"You little sh—"
"Zero sugar if you have it. Friend of mine's picky about health."
——Bang!
"Here you go, sir."
"Ah, thanks."
Slurp. One sip, and the cola's warm.
"You said heat it up earlier, right? It's warmed~"
This bitch... She just served me warm cola?
I swallowed the rising rage. I'm an adult. I don't fall for cheap taunts like this. Gotta respond maturely here.
Tap tap. I cast my magic on the glass. Reversal on the temperature. Warm cola became ice-cold.
"You need more practice."
"Tch."
"But hey, a guest as amazing as me can cover for you. Feel free to clown around in front of me."
"Whatever."
I took a sip of the now-perfect cola.
"Kuh—"
The sharp fizz burned my throat just right—
"Pfft, pfahahaha!"
Something was off with the bartender. Even while glaring at me, she kept glancing sideways, like she was on her phone. Giggling to herself. Annoying as hell.
What the...?
In a huff, I chugged the cola. Despite her "drink up and leave" order, she refilled it—with ice this time.
I drank suspiciously—
"Ah, hot——!"
"Pfahahaha!"
"Gah!! M-my thongue i-th numb!!"
Clutching my scalded tongue to cool it, I caught a mechanical whisper in my ear: "...mission success, sir."
"...?"
Out of the bartender's sight under the table, I snuck out my phone. And there the crazy bitch was—streaming live.
Chats flooded in, and sure enough, soda arrived moments later.
"On the house."
"......"
I stared at the fizzy glass, then drew my pistol. Calculated the camera's position from the broadcast feed. Aimed. Fired.
——Bang!
Marian's broadcast has ended.
"Wha...?"
The bartender was slow on the uptake. As she opened her mouth to yell, I jammed the gun barrel in to shut her up.
"Bartender. Person-to-person advice. Do you know where you are right now?"
Single-shot pistol. Even a missile down her throat wouldn't faze her, but this rookie villain—still gripped by gun phobia—froze in terror, silent.
"It's "Queen"'s birthday party. Earth Emperor's celebration. Think about who shows up to honor the Emperor."
"......"
"Today has the highest concentration of S-ranks in the year. Even "Saintess" lays low."
Mentioning all villains' idol, "Saintess", paled the bartender's face.
"The top proper villain can't wipe out every hero at once for a reason. Even Saintess couldn't handle this many S-ranks simultaneously."
"......"
"She couldn't even beat the Queen alone. Saintess vs. Queen: 12 losses in 12 bouts. Never won once, always pushed to the brink of death."
As I finished, the bartender calmed. I withdrew the gun, wiped my spit on her clothes, and continued.
"New villain, "Death's Des" or whatever. Think she can pull off what even Saintess couldn't?"
The bartender shook her head faintly.
"Think she's a bigger deal than Saintess?"
"......No."
"Even villains can chill in the corner laughing on a day like this—as long as they don't cross the line."
"......"
Saintess, lone warrior in Europe, is Marian's idol. She's not a total idiot; my words must've shown her how moronic her stunt was. A headache enough with the sudden regressor reveal—please don't make the protagonist pour fuel on the fire.
"Got it?"
"Dunno, kid."
The bartender slumped over the table, then dragged a chair and sat across from me.
I hopped down from the table and shooed the crowd drawn by the gunshot.
"Elders, show's over. Head out."
"Already?"
"Yep, so scram."
"Sheesh, kids these days don't even draw blood. Pop a few shots and done? Where's the sweaty brawl? Tsk tsk."
I chased off a hero eyeing Marian like "She looks punchable—mind if I?" and sat back down.
"...Hey, kid."
Marian ditched the mask.
"I fucking hate heroes."
I know. Better than anyone—maybe even you.
"Fucking hate villains too. Wanna kill 'em all. Think I can? What's your take?"
Of course you can. Heroes and villains? She'd burn the whole planet and have change.
"...Why ask me?"
Couldn't say that, so I dodged. The moment she acknowledges the outer god—as daughter of a mere monster—doomsday starts. Outer god's existence must stay airtight secret. Plus, asking a hero if she can kill heroes? What the hell.
"Just."
"...?"
"You acted like you knew stuff earlier. Hero otaku or something?"
Otaku, huh. Original knowledge could pass for that. Decent excuse.
"Won't deny it."
"'Just say yes—'won't deny it' what? Total otaku vibe."
Twitch.
Resisted drawing my gun. "Otaku" doesn't get under my skin. Really.
"Anyway, otaku sir. Can I—"
"Sun-ah. Baek Sun-ah. Use my name."
"Uh...?"
Marian's eyes widened. Heroes' real names are family-level secrets; spilling to a villain without reason is huge.
"You—"
"Mirror, there you are."
The party's host arrived. Cheonma trailed beside her, sporting a fresh black eye.
"I've been looking everywhere."
Her casual outfit matched before, but her voice was back to Queen mode. Seemed pissed.
What'd I do...?
Elizaveta's benevolent smile looked like a grandpa's last meal prep before granny's stew for the naughty kid.
"W-wanted a drink?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure."
"Bartender. Two of your strongest."
Elizaveta downed the straight spirits Marian poured in one go. Crush! She shattered the glass in her grip and said,
"Forget what happened at dawn. I must've gone mad, asking too much."
I couldn't respond. She was right on both counts.
Awkward silence, vodka-staring contest underway—
"Ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for gracing us today."
Tuxedo-clad Leviathan emceed.
"First, a birthday message from Incheon Mayor Kim Hyun-seong."
A man ascended the stage. 193cm tall. 800kg triple-lift beast. Rocking a frilly pink dress. A-rank hero Magical Muscle, fully contracted mascot magical girl.
"Hello, heroes. Incheon Mayor Kim Hyun-seong here."
Her exposed cleavage showcased rippling chest hair over bursting pecs. My recent drink threatened to come back up.
"It's been ten years since Incheon became a special city."
In this world, Korea's capital is Incheon. Reason? One granny lives there. Enough to move the capital.
"Heartfelt birthday wishes to hero "Queen", guardian of Korea."
Magical Muscle descended after her long speech. Traps and delts flexing drew screams everywhere.
"Next, the President's birthday wishes."
——He was... small.
"Hi everyone! President Kim Haneul here!"
Shorter than me. An elementary schooler claiming presidency.
"Unnie, happy birthday!"
Perfect kiddo getup. Actual elementary kid. Won on cuteness alone.
"Today I practiced dances hard with Mommy—"
"Kyaaaaah——!"
A woman's sharp scream. Kim Haneul pouted as the fun soured.
"Someone's dead!"
A murder at the vampire lord's birthday gala.
"N-not me...!"
Killing intent poured toward the uninvited guest.
"Hoo..."
Time for the sleeping master detective Mirror to step up.