An Eye for an Eye, a Tooth for a Tooth
The hero called Marie dragged the injured woman out of the alley. At the same time, the hero facing me off moved to block their escape route, assuming a battle stance.
She had the kind of neatly pinned-up yellow blonde hairstyle you'd expect from a service industry worker. Judging by her youthful face, she was probably in her early twenties. She looked incredibly innocent and diligent, but right now, her eyes burned with hostility as she glared at me.
"I'll take over from here."
This was bad. It made it look like I was the one who attacked that woman earlier. No point protesting my innocence—they'd never believe me.
The hero blocking my path had called her companion Marie. Marie was a Mid-level hero operating in this city. Which meant the woman in front of me had to be Marie's teammate, Spica.
In typical fantasy battle stories, seasoned warriors could gauge an opponent's strength just by looking at them. That applied to me too—ever since possessing this body, I could roughly size up how strong someone was at a glance.
Spica was way weaker than me. Stronger than that monster from before, sure, but not nearly threatening enough.
Still, I couldn't fight her. Even if I'd possessed a villain's body, I had no intention of actually living as one.
Spica seemed to realize she couldn't take me down alone and was just buying time until Marie returned. She kept her distance, probing without committing.
Perfect. Time to run.
I'll bolt somewhere out of sight, undo the transformation, and forget this whole mess ever happened. Then I can sort things out.
I took a deep breath, tensed my abs with all my strength, and let out a deafening roar.
"――――――!!!!"
"Eek!?"
The beastly howl echoed thunderously through the narrow alley. While Spica clutched her ears in panic, I leaped away and escaped.
If I could just put plenty of distance between us, release the transformation, and head home, everything would be fine.
Or so I thought—but it didn't go as planned.
"Stop right there!!"
I figured I'd shaken her, but Spica was still hot on my tail. I was faster, but unfamiliar with the area, so I couldn't lose her completely.
I needed to hide somewhere quick and revert—but transforming earlier had shredded my clothes, so I'd be naked in human form. Too conspicuous.
Searching for a lost werewolf, only to find some naked guy? Suspicious as hell. If my identity got exposed, it was game over.
Werewolves only transform at night; during the day, they're just humans with enhanced physiques. That's why they must keep their identities secret.
I darted around, but couldn't shake her. Deciding I had no choice, I lured her into a deserted spot.
When I suddenly stopped after leading her on a chase, she caught her breath warily.
"Hoo... Does that mean you're done running?"
Persistent. I'll let you off this once—go home if you don't wanna die.
"No thanks."
Listen, miss. You can't beat me alone. Still wanna try?
"I know."
Then why chase me? She must have some ace up her sleeve.
Can't understand it. Why fight when you know you'll die?
"Because I'm a hero. If I let you go here, someone else gets hurt. Can't have that. My job is to stall until backup arrives to take you down."
Damn, she's cool. Her straight-out-of-a-movie hero vibe made my heart race.
...Wish we'd met under better circumstances.
Who's ajusshi? Call me oppa.
"Marie-unnie said all guys who want to be called oppa are wolves. Guess she was right."
That's an insult to wolves. Real wolves are pure-hearted monogamists.
"Says the guy in heat trying to pounce on women. Not buying it."
You wanna fight?
"Yeah, let's."
Fine. Go home quietly when I let you off.
"Why keep dodging? Scared you're a pushover, ajusshi?"
Lame taunt, miss. I'm just an innocent werewolf minding his own business.
"That's a joke, right?"
Wolf joke. Laugh, punk.
"Hilarious. Wanna trade more wolf jokes while we chat?"
Buying time, huh, you little... She showed no sign of backing down, so I stepped away from the wall and took a stance. I didn't want to fight, but I couldn't just let this slide either.
Knock her out lightly, then bolt. Maybe she'll see me as one of those dark heroes from movies—forced into villainy by circumstance.
Wishful thinking, probably.
As I readied myself, Spica's expression hardened, her body tensing.
Stalling was bad now that we'd committed. If real backup showed, I'd be in trouble. Time to end this quick.
She lunged first, testing me. I dodged her fist by tilting my head; she spun into a roundhouse. I twisted away again, but she flowed seamlessly into a barrage of strikes.
Knocking her out gently wasn't easy. Whenever I countered, she'd retreat, raise her guard, then dive back in—not to win, but to delay. Annoying as hell.
She was way too skilled for her innocent looks. And I couldn't go full power without killing her—my strength would burst her open.
She hit-and-ran repeatedly, dragging it out. Done playing defense, I took her next punch head-on.
Thud—dull pain, but bearable. I seized her arm mid-strike and squeezed.
"Guh!?!"
My raw physicals outclassed hers. Up close like this, she couldn't hurt me much. She struggled to pull free, failed, then kicked my body wildly.
Barely tickled.
Pondering how to KO her, Spica thrashed—and aimed a kick right at my groin.
"―――?!?"
Didn't hurt. No junk in wolf form—that's why I could strut naked without worry.
But instinct made any guy flinch at a low blow. Couldn't help it. I loosened my grip on reflex; she backflipped away.
Pretty dirty move for a hero.
"...Wasn't on purpose. Too bad it didn't drop you."
But it gave me an idea for her lights-out.
Until now, I'd waited for her attacks. This time, I charged—flinging not a fist, but concrete dust from clawing the wall.
Her eyes wide to track me, she took the debris straight to the face.
"Agh!!"
Blinded and in pain, she spread her legs instinctively for balance. I measured my kick and struck between them.
"GAAAH!!?!?!?!"
An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Retaliation straight out of the Code of Hammurabi.
Not as vital for girls, but still a weak spot—and untrained ones like her have zero guard there. First time feeling it, bet.
Spica collapsed, writhing and whimpering in agony.
"You... fucking... dog..."
I am a dog.
Innocent face, but she swears like a sailor. I scratched a message where she could see, gave a mocking growl for good measure, and sauntered off.
Felt like a total villain, but not a bad outcome.
I slipped into a secluded spot, confirmed no one around, released the transformation, and reverted to human.
Clothes long gone, I sweated bullets sneaking home naked. Honestly, the biggest crisis of the day wasn't the monster or Spica—it was getting home in the buff.
Having to risk this every night transformation? What a headache power.
After securing the injured woman safely, Marie returned to the scene—but neither Spica nor the werewolf was there. Checking Spica's location, she seemed to be pursuing the fleeing beast.
Werewolves ranked among the most dangerous villains. Their overwhelming physicals and regeneration were bad enough, but blending into human crowds undetected? A nightmare.
Spica couldn't take one solo, but Marie figured letting it escape wasn't an option, so she was chasing. Marie called for hero backup and followed.
She arrived to find Spica curled on the ground, twitching.
No major visible injuries, and she wasn't moving much.
"Spica! You okay?"
Spica just clutched her lower belly, trembling, ignoring the question.
Hit in the stomach?
At least she was alive. Marie had let the werewolf go, but it could've been fatal for Spica. Lucky it ended like this, she thought.
Meanwhile, Spica seethed inwardly, swallowing the throbbing pain: That filthy werewolf... I'll catch him with my own hands!