Abducted: The Mid Hero Spica
Spica. Real name Yoo Eunha. Having debuted as a pro hero at just 18, she was now 21 and active as a mid-level hero. Lately, the spotlight on her had become overwhelmingly burdensome.
In the recent hospital terrorist attack, all she'd done was buy a little time against Stormbringer. Yet the news reported her as the one who'd taken down the villain, drawing massive attention her way.
The honest girl wanted to deny it, but pressure from the Hero Association left her no choice but to play along. They couldn't risk exposing the werewolf as being on the side of justice to the public.
Heroes with decent experience knew the truth, while the others showered Spica with praise and admiration. She'd recently crossed paths often with the werewolf known as Joker and sensed he wasn't a bad guy, but she couldn't voice that to anyone.
Werewolves were creatures that blended into human society, deceiving people to survive. Speaking up would just make her look foolish.
Still, she figured Marie—whom she looked up to like an older sister—might secretly agree, so she'd hinted at it subtly. But for once, Marie had turned serious, lecturing her until her ears rang.
Even so, Spica didn't change her view of Joker. He'd had the chance to kill her at their first meeting but let her go on purpose. (Even if she'd kicked him right in the vitals.) And when Marie was attacked by villains, he'd killed them and saved her. Just recently at the hospital, he'd taken out two villains single-handedly and rescued people.
Of course, Spica didn't unconditionally approve of Joker. At their first encounter, he'd been about to attack a civilian. And werewolves were monsters that devoured humans, no changing that.
Plus, he'd spouted weird stuff about possessing a novel character—maybe he was on drugs. Spica just couldn't pin down who Joker really was. Villain-like, yet somehow heroic. Heroic, but could never truly be one.
That werewolf seemed to carry some secret he couldn't share with anyone.
Spica's goal was to capture him herself. To question him about it. And if he turned out to be a true villain, to deal with him personally.
But she knew the gap between them all too well, so even on off days, she trained relentlessly to grow stronger.
Her fist shot straight forward, slicing the air. To ordinary eyes, it might look impeccably clean and powerful, but objectively, she wasn't all that strong.
Joker, who'd handed her a crushing defeat recently, and villains like Stormbringer—they were leagues above. Losing to them didn't break her spirit.
Still, a hero had to be strong at all times. Sure, Joker had saved her this time by luck, but she couldn't allow herself to collapse first while failing to protect people.
Her resolve to risk her life buying time was noble, but if she couldn't protect anyone in the end, it meant nothing.
"Aren't you pushing too hard lately? Your wounds aren't fully healed yet."
After hours at the Hero Association training ground, her colleague and closest big-sis figure, Marie, approached with worry in her voice.
"I'm fine. The wounds are all healed. You know how tough I am."
"Don't overdo it. Condition management is part of the pro hero job."
"Got it. So, what's up?"
"Thought I'd lure you out for a patrol to change your mood."
Marie wanted to give her a break since she was worried about the overtraining, but knew outright suggesting fun would get shot down. So she framed it as patrol to coax her along.
Having known Marie for so long, Spica caught on immediately. Feeling bad for worrying her, she went along without protest.
"Okay. I'll shower quick and be right there."
They called it patrol, but Spica knew better, so they wandered the streets, hit a café, went shopping—turning it into a natural rest disguised as duty.
Marie dragged her into the café insisting villains might be plotting a terror attack there. Same with shopping: "Villains could strike in the busy district—we gotta check it out."
Each time, Spica pretended to cave and joined in, enjoying the time together.
"Haa. Been ages since we had this much fun, right?"
"Not even hiding it anymore, Lia unnie."
"Hehe. You knew and played along—now acting all surprised."
When luring her to karaoke, Marie's excuse was villains might've planted a bomb in the mic—utterly ridiculous. Spica even wondered if she'd been worrying her too much.
With White Knights deployed, the Villain Alliance had backed off, so maybe she was overreacting. But a cornered alliance might go all-out desperately, so she couldn't fully relax.
"Getting late—head home?"
"No drinks tonight?"
"You wouldn't anyway."
"True."
Marie loved booze and often pushed Spica to join. But Spica never got why anyone drank it—plus, hangovers wrecked her condition the next day. Despite countless invites, she rarely gave in. Marie got clingy and annoying when drunk, too.
So they grabbed dinner, watched the sunset, and parted ways.
"No heading back to the Association for more training, got it? I'll really get mad."
"...Tch."
Spica clicked her tongue and narrowed her eyes—had she seriously planned to train more? Marie saw right through her.
"I've known you long enough. Go home nice and quiet, wash your feet, and sleep."
"Unnie, you sound like an ajusshi."
"Look at our Eunha, all grown up. Feels like yesterday you debuted, fought a monster, got scared, and pissed yourself."
"Wh-when did I ever! I was just a little flustered!"
Marie dug up an embarrassing secret no one else knew, and Spica flushed red, clamping her hand over Marie's mouth.
They'd been tight since Spica was a rookie, so Marie knew all her weak spots.
Spica huffed in mock anger as they parted, then headed home, showered simply, and lay down scrolling YouTube.
Her watches were mostly hero vlogs or in-depth analyses of heroes. Most were pure entertainment, but some offered real insights, so she binged them in her spare time.
Around ten, as Spica shut off her phone to sleep, a text from Marie came in. Marie knew she crashed at ten, so late texts were rare.
'What's this? Some emergency?'
Along with the message was a photo of Marie bound somewhere.
Lately, I'd been pouring effort into training with Diana to awaken my abilities, but honestly, I had no clue how to trigger it. The idea of awakening via survival instinct in extreme conditions felt too vague and abstract.
Not everyone awakened even in such situations anyway.
Craving useful stories or advice, I first asked Hwang Yerang.
"Huh? How I awakened? Hmm... just kinda happened? Around ten or eleven, woke up and my arm was transformed. Freaked out and bawled my eyes out."
Hwang Yerang was a genius who'd debuted pro at twelve, so her advice was useless.
"It's not verified fact—research is ongoing—but they say a person's ability ties to their wish at awakening."
"What do you mean?"
"Like, say our house is on fire, family's in danger. You desperately wish for water to put it out, awaken—and boom, water powers."
"For real?"
"Dunno. Just what some papers say. And yeah, cases like that exist."
"What about you?"
"Well... as a kid, watching hero movies, I was more into the monsters and demons than the heroes. Dreamt of becoming a demon a lot. Maybe that's why?"
"What the... "
Totally unhelpful. My mistake for asking her.
Got nothing useful from Hwang Yerang, so I headed to Seo Chaerim's room.