Terror Erupts
On the first day of supporter patrols, I learned the ropes with Marie's help, wandering around. From the second day on, it was just me, Seo Chaerim, and Nam Hyunsu covering the routes alone.
We reported any anomalies regularly via our handheld devices during patrols. The reports were nothing special—no real issues—so it wasn't particularly tough. But easy didn't mean comfortable. Short breaks were fine, but lingering too long anywhere triggered a warning. We had to keep moving, and the fatigue built up more than expected.
We chatted a lot during those hours of daily trudging. Hyunsu was two years older than me, so he told me to drop the formalities. I called him Hyunsu hyung in return. Seo Chaerim jumped straight into casual speech without anyone prompting her, so I followed suit, and Hyunsu hyung loosened up too after a bit.
Chaerim was prickly and snide with everyone, but she amped it up around me. She was sassy with Hyunsu hyung but never outright rude—me, though? We clashed over everything.
"That's why we patrol low-traffic spots, obviously."
"You idiot? You think guys who openly attack heroes give a damn about witnesses?"
It started with petty disagreements like that, escalating to:
"Here, I got it."
"What the hell? Don't you know I only drink hot stuff?"
"You complain even when I buy it? How the hell was I supposed to know?"
"You've seen me the last few days—figure it out. God, you're so clueless."
"You little shit?"
She nitpicked everything, constantly grinding my gears. I tried to let it slide since it was work, but she got under my skin more each time, and eventually, I stopped holding back.
"Hold up. Why's mine the small size?"
"Don't want it? Give it back then."
"You're such a petty bitch. Guy's got a narrow soul to match."
"Hey. Don't you get told you have a puppy face a lot?"
"...What the hell outta nowhere?"
"You just remind me of a Chihuahua nonstop. Especially the personality."
She blushed at first, thinking it was a compliment, then realized and flushed for a whole different reason.
"You wanna die? You just called me a bitch, didn't you?"
"Bingo. Chihuahua."
"You fucking asshole?"
Thinking about it, it fit perfectly. Small, yappy attitude. Your new nickname's Chihuahua from now on.
"Pfft!"
Hyunsu hyung, who'd been watching us bicker, clutched his stomach, stifling guffaws. He was trying not to laugh out loud—Chaerim would flip—but he couldn't hold it in, snorting desperately. It cracked me up too, and I burst out laughing.
After that, every time I called her Chihuahua, she'd rage without fail. But I didn't mind. Hell, it was kinda cute. Sorry, kid, but I've got four more years of real-world grit than you. Teasing a rookie like you? Piece of cake.
"Hahaha. You two get along so well."
"Hyunsu hyung, sorry, but don't you hear 'oblivious' a lot? Where do you see 'getting along' here?"
"From my experience, couples who bicker like you two end up dating."
"Don't say creepy shit!"
"First time I agree with Chihuahua."
"Stop calling me that!"
I'd sooner bust my head open tripping on the street than date a girl like her. My type? If I had to pick, Marie. Not some clueless chick like this. I'd bite my tongue and die first.
A week into supporter duty, and nothing major had happened. I'd half-expected a full-blown Hero Association vs. Villain Alliance war, but the world stayed peacefully mundane. I figured it'd last forever.
Then it all went to hell. The Villain Alliance made their move.
The department store buzzed with weekend evening crowds—couples shopping arm-in-arm, kids giggling endlessly as they darted on tiny legs, parents beaming at the sight. Fewer people than daytime, sure, but everyone still smiled, savoring time with loved ones.
That idyllic scene turned hellish in under five minutes.
A deafening roar shook the building like an airstrike. Walls crumbled, concrete chunks flew, dust choked the air. Fires erupted everywhere—gas lines? Screams echoed from all sides.
Five minutes was plenty to swap laughter for wails, sobs, agony, desperate cries for lost loved ones or family.
"P-please... spare us... "
A parent cradling a bleeding child—head injury from some collision—begged the man before them, tears streaming. But he gazed down indifferently.
"Killing kids pains me too. But what can you do? Nothing stokes rage like this."
His face twisted in delight, not pain, making him even more terrifying to the parents.
"Blame the Association's incompetence. They twiddled thumbs while scum like us ran wild. Look—even now, heroes only show after the fact. Blame them."
He spouted nonsense, raising his hand toward the child. The parents shielded with their body, knowing it was futile. No choice.
Wind gathered in his palm, whipping into a frenzy. They'd seen it shred the building, pulverizing concrete. Touching them? Shredded to bits, parent and child alike.
All they could do was huddle low, clutching the kid tight—pointless, but what else?
"...Over here!!"
"Hm?"
A sudden intruder kicked at the man.
"Faster than expected, hero."
He blocked casually, stepping back, brushing his sleeve.
"Hey! Can you move? I'll handle him—run!"
"Y-yes! Thank you! Thank you!"
Relieved, the parents scooped the child and fled the villain.
"Damn. Slipped away."
"You crazy fuck. Targeting civilians outright now?!"
Mid-level hero Liger faced the villain head-on, bellowing. Last city's terror targeted heroes. This? Pure civilian slaughter. Building half-collapsed, casualties everywhere. Many trapped under debris or wounded on the floor. Liger wanted to rush to them, but ignoring this guy meant more deaths. He stood his ground.
"Mid hero Liger, right? Quick response is praiseworthy, but charging solo? Foolish."
"Shut up! More heroes are en route. You're done!"
"War favors the aggressor. Know why?"
"..."
"Simple. Attackers dictate strategy; defenders just react."
"What're you getting at?"
"Other heroes coming? What guards elsewhere if we strike there?"
"You bastards, don't tell me..."
"Splitting forces is dumb too. We know your strength; you don't know ours. Half-ass it, and we all wipe together."
"Why... why the hell do this?!"
"Oh, one more. Always watch your back in war."
Liger opened his mouth to retort—but no words came. A sword burst from his chest first.
"...Guh... ack."
Heart pierced clean, Liger dropped dead. Sword yanked free, blood fountained, staining the floor crimson.
"Mid hero? Pathetic. Heroes these days are trash."
"Stormbringer. You talk too damn much."
The backstabber swung his blade wide, flicking blood off.
"Drake, you're no fun."
"Better than a motormouth."
"Heh. More heroes incoming soon. Our job's buy time—don't get cocky and die."
"I won't die before you, so worry about yourself."
Stormbringer and Drake snarled at each other but pressed the terror undeterred. Casualties mounted.
"Stop!!"
"Fucking villain scum!"
Three more heroes arrived to block them, but the villains just grinned, thrilled.
"Hmm... three mids. Idiots. Should've brought a senior."
"Suits us. Right on plan."
"Boys. Brace yourselves. Time to show these soft peaceniks what real war is."