The Overwhelming Presence of an S-Rank Hero
"Master, honey... Let Miyang be the first one you hold in your arms, nyang."
"...What?!"
Ha Ohu's face flushed red at the sudden pregnancy attack.
"I want to be your first wife before all those other bitches you meet while slimming down and getting your revenge. Got it, nyang?"
"H-Hey! W-Why would I meet other women? I'm barely managing to take care of you."
Ohu stammered in panic, making excuses, but Miyang burst into giggles and playfully smacked his chest.
"Aww, that's super touching too, Master. But I know for sure."
Miyang lifted her nose proudly, adding with full confidence.
"I might look like this, but I've turned down tons of guys from the back alleys—my standards are sky-high, nyang? And even a haughty girl like me fell head over heels for you. So once you lose the weight and your real hot self comes out, you think the other women will just sit still? They'll all fall for you no doubt!"
"Haha... If you can't say it, don't."
Ohu let out a dumbfounded chuckle, but an unstoppable smile crept across his lips. He'd always hated himself, calling himself trash in a trinity of body, mind, and soul. But Miyang's loving praise and teasing, elevating him as the most attractive and coolest guy in the world, was slowly—surely—filling the tattered shreds of his self-esteem with warm, comforting heat.
"Alright, enough. Let's go to bed quick. We've got a shit-ton to do tomorrow."
Ohu scooped up the adorable she-cat in his arms and headed for the guest room, leaving Park Ayoung silently finishing her cleaning at his feet.
Tomorrow, he had to take the first great step toward shedding this vermin body.
The rooftop air was frozen taut, suffocating under the biting night wind.
The gaze of Korea's pinnacle S-grade hero, Rapid Star, fixed on the young girl in the corner, standing ramrod straight in a salute, brimming with discipline.
The crude yellow-and-red costume she wore was a blatant knockoff of his most cherished disciple, Shooting Star's signature look.
At that displeasing, taboo stimulus, Rapid Star's cock had viciously hardened inside his tights. Seizing the cover of darkness, he forcibly crushed it down with thigh muscles tensed to the limit.
Feigning calm, he asked in a stern, intimidating voice.
"You said you're an aspiring hero? What business does a license-less kid like you have prowling this apartment rooftop in the dead of night?"
"Th-That is...!"
Overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of an S-grade hero and his interrogation, Han Eunbyeol stammered, her posture rigid.
"I-I was investigating! To protect our neighborhood, I've been tracking the source of those illegal video distributions popping up all over the internet lately!"
"Illegal videos?"
"Yes! A C-grade villain with cat ears who shoots powerful electricity from her hands—Nyaistlinger! I got a tip that she was spotted near this apartment complex since last night!"
Rapid Star's brow furrowed slightly.
"Nyaistlinger? You're staking out in the middle of the night for some petty C-grade crook? Leave that to the beat cops or low-rank heroes."
To an S-grade hero, a C-grade villain was an ant pupa you could squash mid-stride.
Undeterred by his dismissive tone, Eunbyeol's eyes sparkled with defiance as she pressed on urgently.
"No, hero sir! Nyaistlinger might have minor combat power and a light record for a C-grade, but... she's no ordinary crook!"
Resolve hardened her voice.
"She's a broker who films snuff films herself at the most brutal, secretive crime scenes in the back alleys and distributes them on the dark web! Meaning, wherever she shows up and lingers, there's bound to be a major crime syndicate she deals with—or some unimaginable atrocity where someone was violated and filmed!"
"...What?"
"Her traces circling this apartment since yesterday means there's probably a crime den nearby, or signs of a filming victim! That's why I've been tracking...!"
As Eunbyeol's fervent report continued, Rapid Star—boasting the longest active career—racked his mental catalog of crime scenes.
Snuff film villain. Major crime syndicate traces.
His gaze pierced the rooftop floor, down to the penthouse fifteen floors below: his daughter Park Ayoung's place.
A C-grade villain peddling snuff films spotted near his daughter's apartment. His superhuman senses screamed an ominous warning too sharp to dismiss as coincidence.
Perhaps... a hidden link between Sara's death—the owner of the relic box in his hand—and this snuff villain.
"Nyaistlinger..."
Rapid Star's eyes darkened.
Like back then...
A horrific memory flashed: his wife, driving home with young Ayoung, shredded in a villain bomb attack.
Ayoung might be a half-baked disappointment without combat powers, and he himself a rotten black-hearted man inside... but Rapid Star's path as a hero stemmed from pure hatred and superiority over villains themselves.
That trauma triggered, a suffocating killing intent began leaking from his entire body.
His casual errand to deliver relics and bask in gratitude gained weight from Eunbyeol's fatal clue.
Eunbyeol, who'd been reporting briskly until moments ago—
"H-Hic...!"
C-Can't... even breathe...! This is an S-grade hero...?
—trembled, unable to draw breath under the raw killing intent of Korea's top S-grade hero.
Finally—
"Kid. Tell me exactly where that villain's trail cut off in this complex."
Thud.
She collapsed unconscious on the rooftop.
"Tch. Passed out. That green, huh..."
Rapid Star alternated glances between Sara's relic box in his hand and the fainted young girl.
His eyes lingered greedily over her crude costume: yellow base with red accents, an exact rip-off of his brightest disciple—and his once most beautiful possession, Han Sara's iconic design.
Twenty years, is it?
The corner of Rapid Star's mouth curled up.
Excitement bubbled at the chance to sculpt a new Shooting Star from scratch, one he couldn't fully mold to his tastes before.
That dank, sticky thrill made his cock, barely subdued earlier, stiffen rigidly in his tights again.
"Retirement... can wait a bit longer."
Muttering low, he hoisted the unconscious Eunbyeol over one shoulder like luggage.
He needed more intel on this Nyaistlinger and the syndicate she chased. Above all, this gave him pretext to place a new Han Sara under his control.
Gripping the relic box, Rapid Star opened the emergency door and descended the stairs to the fifteenth floor, Ayoung's place.
Thud. Thud.
Footsteps echoed in the dim stairwell.
Arriving at Ayoung's penthouse door, feeling the weight and sweat of Eunbyeol on his shoulder, he failed to notice the broken door lock remnants.
He simply set the relic box down carefully.
This time... no one ruins my work. Not some vermin shit like Ha Deok-gu stealing her away.
Firming his resolve inwardly, he pressed the doorbell with a thick finger.
Ding-dong.
After the short chime, Rapid Star turned, ascended the emergency stairs back to the roof, then rocketed into the night sky with a boom that echoed through the complex.
Ding-dong.
The sudden chime from the living room froze the air in the penthouse cold.
"...!"
Ohu and Miyang halted like statues.
Miyang's cat ears shot up, fur bristling across her body.
Fuck, who the hell at this hour? Cops? Neighbors?
Ohu's heart pounded wildly.
Worse, the front door lock was busted from Miyang's electric shock yesterday—wide open to anyone who turned the handle.
"Miyang, stay quiet."
Ohu mouthed the whisper, face drained of color. He rushed to naked Ayoung cleaning the floor, yanking a loose bathrobe over her to cover her nudity.
"Check it out. Don't let on, don't open the door—just peek through the lens and see who."
Under hypnosis, Ayoung nodded mechanically, clutched the robe, and padded barefoot across the living room to the door.
Ohu and Miyang held their breath behind the kitchen wall, eyes locked on the entrance. Blue electricity coiled at Miyang's fingertips, ready to unleash.
Click.
Ayoung cautiously peered through the peephole.
"...Master."
She turned, whispering softly.
"No one's out there. Just a small box on the doorstep."
"A box?"
Ohu finally exhaled.
"Bring it in."
Ayoung cracked the door, retrieved the box from the hall, and set it on the living room table.
And upon inspection...
It was Shooting Star's relic box, packaged impeccably without a scratch.
Ohu puzzled over it, tearing open the document envelope on the side and pulling out the single handover confirmation sheet.
Handover Person: Rapid Star
"...!"
The moment he spotted the bold, rugged signature at the bottom, the paper slipped from Ohu's hand, fluttering to the floor.
"M-Master... That was... Rapid Star just now...?"
Miyang's voice quivered.
Speechless, Ohu collapsed onto the living room floor under the sofa, legs giving out.
Cold sweat soaked his back.
The doorbell ringer was none other than Korea's mightiest S-grade hero, Park Ayoung's own father.
Had he pushed the broken door and stepped inside even one foot... his blood-smeared kimchi bags, naked daughter groveling in bizarre atonement, villain Miyang—all this revenge carnage exposed. Ohu and Miyang would've been pulped into bloody meat chunks, bones and flesh separated, in one second flat.
"Haa... Fuck... Haa..."
"M-Master... We almost got fucked... right...?"
"Yeah..."
Ohu clutched his face with trembling hands.
In this defenseless apartment with a busted lock, they'd nearly been caught by an S-grade hero.
Relief from barely crossing death's threshold mixed with sheer terror, leaving him slumped on the living room floor, gasping raggedly in a daze.
The uninvited guest from the skyscraper pinnacle crushed the penthouse night deeper, more painfully.