That's Right, Werewolf
After the news announced the deployment of White Knight heroes, there hadn't been a single act of terrorism by the Villain Alliance. The broadcasts occasionally reported stories of various White Knights raiding alliance hideouts and capturing villain gangs. The Villain Alliance was a massive coalition of multiple villain organizations, and those caught so far were probably just low-level grunts. Still, with such a large-scale purge underway, even they wouldn't be able to pull off any flashy attacks anymore.
Peaceful daily life had finally returned. Thanks to that, he could afford to think about future problems.
Lately, he'd been seriously considering joining the Hero Association if he truly awakened his powers. Someone might call it nonsense for a werewolf embedded in a villain organization, but realistically speaking, he needed a job anyway. Jamryong felt more like a club than a workplace, so it wasn't enough. There wasn't even a salary.
Of course, living in the hideout solved food, clothing, and shelter, and they'd provide anything else he needed. In fact, Hwang Yerang and Seo Chaerim, who practically lived there, were no different from unemployed vagrants. He wasn't sure about Diana. Still, he couldn't live like that forever—he needed a proper job. But with only a high school diploma, no specialized skills or knowledge, and years of employment gap, landing a decent position seemed unlikely.
Besides, even if he hadn't chosen this possession, he'd finally entered a novel world—didn't it feel wrong to just slave away as an ordinary office worker? Sure, getting caught as a werewolf in the association would be game over, but that was just a matter of him being careful not to get exposed. If he absolutely had to transform, he could make sure there were no witnesses.
While some heroes operated in teams, plenty worked solo, so if push came to shove, he could transform, kill a villain or monster, and call it a day. It might be counting chickens before they hatched since awakening wasn't guaranteed, but it was just one plan among many.
For reference, he'd run this crazy idea by Hwang Yerang first to get her input. Joining the association as a villain group member raised too many red flags. But unexpectedly, her response was, "If oppa wants to do it, then do it."
The real shocker? They already had a member active as a hero in the association—a spy embedded there. Though it was more like a half-hearted cover; no real spying involved. That's why Seo Chaerim had joined the Supporters to gather intel.
But then, what was the point of a spy like that? Wasn't this basically a double agent? The more he learned, the more he marveled at how half-assed and chaotic the organization was.
Then again, their motto from the start was for villains to band together and live peacefully—no interference as long as they didn't harm others. It was so lax and autonomous it barely qualified as an organization, but the camaraderie among members ran deep.
Gwak Cheolsu had told him how, after the hospital terror left Seo Chaerim injured, Hwang Yerang and Diana tracked down the alliance's hideout for revenge. He'd thought it was just because the three were close, but no—it was on the boss's orders. When Hwang Yerang recruited him, she'd promised help in tough times, and that must've been what she meant: no real duties, but if a comrade was attacked, they banded together to fight back.
That alone made joining worth it.
He had no specific tasks as a member, so for now, he'd focus on Supporters patrols, save money, and work toward awakening his powers.
Today, he skipped the hideout and headed straight home after patrol. But as he passed an alley, a strange presence made him glance over instinctively. Whether it was growing familiarity with this body or his abilities improving, his senses had sharpened even in human form—not as keen as when transformed, but sharp enough.
This feeling? A monster. Not certain, but probably.
Leaving it be risked it attacking passersby, so he slipped into the alley, confirmed no one around, and transformed into his wolf form.
Crack. Snap.
Of course, he'd stripped first and stashed his clothes on a nearby box. Running into Marie naked by bad luck would leave him without excuses now.
Transformed, the certainty hit: the presence, the scent—pure monster.
Deeper in, he spotted a black, slime-like mud blob. A new type. Its gooey look suggested physical blows wouldn't faze it much. Still, worth a shot—he clenched his fist to charge, but the wriggling mass froze, staring him down. No eyes, but it felt that way.
Then, like a greeting, it rippled in a steady pattern and slunk off somewhere.
Ah, could this be one of Seo Chaerim's monsters?
She'd said her beasts would recognize them, so don't kill if they crossed paths. When he'd asked how to tell friend from foe, she said they'd greet first.
Not sure if that was a greeting, but since it didn't attack and just passed by, probably hers. Tricky. Killing it might set Chaerim off—she genuinely adored her hideous pets. How she found those grotesque things cute baffled him, but when he'd asked Hwang Yerang, even she didn't get it. Maybe Chaerim's power warped her perception, she'd guessed.
Too iffy to kill or ignore. Best call Chaerim and check if it was her pet—she could track all her monsters' locations.
As he pulled out his phone to dial, the blob burst with a pop, shattering into pieces.
A hero had appeared. Shit. Of all people, a hero. And Midnight—a Senior hero, no less.
Sure, power varied among ranks, but Seniors were on par with Stormbringer from the hospital. Could be weaker or stronger. Definitely not a pushover like Spica, whom he could've subdued and ditched.
"Never thought I'd run into you here, Joker. I have questions. Care to chat?"
"Got nothing to say to you."
"Hm? I heard Joker couldn't speak. Bad intel?"
"Been practicing."
Writing on walls left permanent records—too risky for leaks. So he'd practiced speaking harder.
"I'd prefer if you came quietly."
"Would you, if you were me?"
"Fair point. Rumor has it you took down A-rank villain Stormbringer at the hospital?"
She knew? News credited Spica. Made sense for a Senior.
"What, here to say thanks?"
"Honestly grateful, but without knowing your motives, hard to just take your word."
Seemed reasonable. Not attacking outright—maybe his image had improved. But that thought shattered instantly.
Midnight had appeared behind him, sword swinging.
"―――!!"
"Impressive. Dodging that."
He leaped back, evading, then glared. …Two Midnights. The one chatting, and the ambusher. Not just similar—outfits, looks, even scent identical.
Twins? No…
"…Clones?"
"That's right, werewolf."