That's What a Hero Does
Stormbringer, who had been smacked by Spica and sent rolling across the floor, hauled himself back up.
"Looks like we've got an interruption. Mid-level hero Spica, huh? Impressive that you got here so fast, miss, but you can't stop me on your own."
Even with Spica's sudden intrusion, Stormbringer showed no sign of backing down. She told Seo Chaerim to relax, but in truth, Spica was on high alert at the sight of him. He was one of the terrorists from last night's department store attack—a Villain with an A-rank threat level. He'd taken down four mid-level heroes single-handedly, then stalled the reinforcements long enough to escape unscathed. Spica knew she couldn't beat him alone.
But when she heard about the hospital terror attack, she was the closest hero available. As a hero, she couldn't just ignore it. What if these guys were gearing up for a follow-up like last night? No telling when backup would arrive. She had to hold him off here, no matter what.
Fighting in this spot risked injuring the downed Seo Chaerim and the child, so Spica decided to lure him elsewhere first. Of course, a Villain like him wouldn't play along nicely, so she charged straight at Stormbringer.
"Gutsy not running away, I'll give you that. But at your level, you won't even buy time."
Wind whipped fiercely around Stormbringer's hand, coalescing into razor-sharp blades that shot toward Spica. She dove aside, dodging the strike, but his next attack was already primed. Spica rolled across the floor, barely evading as his gusts chased her, carving shallow gashes into the hallway walls.
"Tch. What a pain."
He was confident he could kill her if he took his time. But dragging this out wasn't ideal, so he prepared a big one—until
"Haaah!!!"
Spica slammed her fist into the floor with all her might. The already weakened tiles shattered, and Stormbringer, caught off-balance, plummeted to the floor below.
"Cheap tricks..."
As he manipulated wind to levitate back up, Spica leaped down after him, fist extended. It was too far to connect—impossibly so. But her fist glowed brilliantly, and a powerful shockwave erupted from its tip.
"What the—"
Boom—!!
Stormbringer crashed into the floor from the blast. Spica didn't let up, hammering the ground with more shockwaves.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The impacts collapsed the floor beneath them, sending Stormbringer tumbling deeper. Spica pursued relentlessly, smashing through level after level until they hit the basement. Amid the rubble, Stormbringer rose unharmed.
"Spica's shockwaves, huh. More annoying than I thought."
Spica grimaced at how he shrugged off multiple direct hits.
"He's wrapped wind around his whole body to cancel them out."
"You think I'd call myself a Villain if I got done in by something that basic?"
Spica hadn't expected to win with that anyway. At least she'd succeeded in drawing him away from Seo Chaerim and the kid, per plan. Now she could fight all-out without worrying about bystanders.
"You moved us down here to protect those upstairs? Won't change a thing. Ten seconds to kill you, ten more to head back up."
"Try it, then."
"I like that fire."
Stormbringer grinned and unleashed a gust. Spica read his motion and dodged sideways—but the wind's sweep was wider than expected, sending her tumbling across the floor.
"!?!"
"Speed, range—I control it all. If you thought that was my full power, think again."
Spica scrambled up, bracing for the follow-up, but Stormbringer was already in her face. His fist, accelerated by wind, smashed into her face.
Thwack.
"Guh!!"
Even for a hero with enhanced physique, the propelled punch was devastating—vision blurring, mind reeling. His "ten seconds" claim proved no bluff. Razor winds followed, slicing her shoulder and legs.
Spica crumpled, strength draining away. Stormbringer aimed at her, unleashing a high-pressure wind burst that ravaged her position.
"Wasted too much time. Hope they haven't bolted yet."
As he wind-wrapped himself to ascend, he spotted Spica—blood streaming, teeth gritted—rising again.
"Still kicking? Tougher than you look. That was meant to kill."
"Heroes... never... go down."
"Guess you're no hero, then."
He hurled another compressed blast. An explosion of debris and dust erupted. She had to be done for now—but Spica staggered forward, dragging her trembling legs.
"Clever. Using shockwaves to weaken my wind. Forgot if I can cancel yours, the reverse works too."
But the power gap was vast. She couldn't fully neutralize it. Damage had piled up to her limits; she could collapse any second. Yet Spica pressed on.
She knew she couldn't beat Stormbringer. Not alone, not even stall forever. But she couldn't fall. If she did, the patients and stragglers would die horribly at his hands.
Hero-bashing had exploded after last night's attack. "Heroes can't lose to Villains!" But heroes were human too—stronger foes meant possible defeat. She trained brutally every day to grow stronger, but life didn't hand you winnable fights on a platter.
Still, she stood and fought. That's what a hero did. Even knowing death loomed, holding the enemy bought seconds, saved lives.
Half-delirious, she limped toward him. Then, mustering every ounce, she clenched her fist and unleashed a desperate blow. Bones creaked, wounds split, blood poured—but she swung with everything.
Her fist blazed, unleashing a massive shockwave that engulfed Stormbringer.
Boom.
Dust swirled, floor cracked, marble shards flew. Yet Stormbringer stood firm, unscathed. Exhausted, Spica collapsed. He approached leisurely.
"Your willpower's something else. Not like those recent weaklings. I'll make it quick, at least."
As he raised a lethal wind blade for her head—
Grab.
"Huh?"
A werewolf had appeared, clamping Stormbringer's arm in an iron grip, glaring down at him.
"Hmph. Glad you showed as expected, but bad timing..."
Boom!!
The werewolf's fist plowed into his face.
After decking the Villain mid-kill, the werewolf knelt by the fallen Spica to check her.
"You're..."
Her wounds were severe, but she was alive—thank god. After killing Nam Hyunsu, he'd entered the building and found Seo Chaerim collapsed in a pool of blood. As he tried rushing her out, she warned him about the basement fight: Spica versus a Villain.
She'd lost too much blood to leave alone, but she insisted she'd manage. Trusting her, he headed down.
Wind manipulation. That guy. One of last night's department store terrorists.
"Hey, werewolf. Always wondered—why interfere with us? Got a grudge?"
"..."
"Or playing hero? You're a Villain too, pal."
Wary of attacks, he scratched words into the floor with his claws.
I'm just a werewolf passing by
Villain but not, hero but not. Just a werewolf passing by.
No more words for this guy. He rose, fists clenched.
Now, time to hunt.