C-Rank Villain: Deogi (1)
"I told you last night while we were having sex, Master! You've gotten waaay, like suuuper much more handsome as you've lost weight-nyang! Why don't you believe Miyang's opinion and just get pissed at the numbers?!"
The master she loved enough to lay down her life for was transforming day by day into an intimidating, dashing man. The joy of watching that process unfold. The pride that her eyes hadn't been wrong. It filled Miyang's voice to the brim.
But even in the face of Miyang's blatant bootlicking, Ohoo stared into the mirror and replied dryly, impassively.
"Well... you said the exact same thing even when I was that waddling pig bastard."
Miyang's cat ears twitched slightly at Ohoo's words.
"Tch...! Th-that's because Miyang always saw Master's inner self and loved that... In Miyang's eyes, Master was always handsome anyway-nyang!"
Miyang pouted, then started rattling off the names of all the hot idols and handsome actors on TV these days.
"Hmph! Even if you rounded up all those parasite-like idol kids on TV nowadays, Master's body and face are a thousand—no, ten thousand times sexier and cooler-nyang?! Master is the best-nyang!"
Last Moment, unable to stand the childish, goosebump-inducing pickle-fest between Miyang's affection offensive and Ohoo's dry stonewalling, cut in.
"Hey, cat. I get that you're head over heels in love, but be real for a sec—that ain't it. Idols? Bullshit."
She snorted in disbelief and chimed in.
"Hey, Han Eunbyeol! Get over here."
"Me?"
Then, for an objective opinion, she called over Eunbyeol.
As Eunbyeol approached with a baffled look during her break, Last Moment pointed at Ohoo's broad shoulders and the jawline starting to sharpen as the fat melted away—making his already rugged, brutish features even rougher.
"You judge objectively. Sure, the weight loss is bringing out his features, but he's no pretty boy. Eyes are sharp as hell, build's like a damn mountain. Total... 80s American action flick macho type. You know, those human-tank guys who shoot everything and smash shit. Arnold or Stallone vibes. Right?"
Last Moment sought Eunbyeol's agreement, but... Eunbyeol latched onto something else entirely.
"Huh? Arnold? Stallone? Who's that?"
Eunbyeol tilted her head like she'd never heard the names, furrowing Last Moment's brow deeply.
"What? You don't know Arnold Schwarzenegger or Sylvester Stallone? Terminator? Rambo?!"
Last Moment—whose ideal type was firmly rooted in those sweaty 80s macho action stars—raised her voice like she'd been insulted.
And.
"Nyang?! What'd you just say-nyang?! You don't know those legends?!"
Even Miyang, who'd been bickering with Last Moment moments ago, freaked out and hissed at Eunbyeol.
And for good reason—Miyang had such deep film knowledge that even when shooting snuff films, she'd strictly followed the rules of Denmark's Dogma 95 manifesto. For someone who called herself the Last Dogma, ignorance of iconic Hollywood action stars from the classics was unforgivable.
"Haa, these damn kids nowadays! I'm not talking some obscure names here! Rocky? You don't know Rocky?!"
"Right-nyang! They only watch modern movies slathered in CG, no roots at all-nyang! Ignorant brat who doesn't know the classics-nyang!"
The two women, who'd been growling at each other over differing opinions just seconds ago, suddenly united against Eunbyeol's ignorance of classic Hollywood stars and unleashed a barrage of criticism.
"Ah, no... I don't have money to watch movies..."
Eunbyeol made an aggrieved excuse, sweating bullets, while Ohoo—pushed to the sidelines—could only watch the alliance of the two cinephiles in disbelief.
Just as a lighthearted atmosphere briefly settled over the training hall.
Kiiiiiik—!
The training hall door slid open, and Ayoung strode in briskly, dressed in neat office attire with a tablet PC in hand.
"Everyone, training ends here."
At Ayoung's single word, Miyang and Last Moment—who'd been messing around—along with Eunbyeol, who was dazed from their teasing—all turned to her in unison.
Ohoo pulled his T-shirt back on and met Ayoung's eyes.
"What's up, Director?"
With Eunbyeol and Last Moment there, he had no choice but to use the formal title.
"The Korean Hero Committee network just flagged the target for Unmarked's debut operation."
The villain had finally been selected to kick off their first real-world mission.
"Commencing briefing."
Ayoung connected her tablet to the training hall TV, and grim photos from a blood-splattered gambling den appeared.
"This is the first villain for Unmarked's debut. Estimated rank: C+. Charges: eight serial murders at an illegal majiang parlor in Bupyeong, Incheon."
Horrifically mutilated corpse photos scrolled by one after another.
"Per survivor testimony, he killed without hands or weapons—purely ripping skulls and carotid arteries with jaws and teeth. Presumed ability: heteromorphic body transformation type. Combat power estimated at upper C-rank."
Eunbyeol swallowed hard, staring at the screen. Miyang crossed her arms, analyzing the target with sharp eyes.
"Capture op at midnight tonight. At the motel presumed to be his hideout in Bupyeong."
Ayoung paused the briefing, glancing between Eunbyeol and Miyang as she lowered her voice.
"Once the op succeeds and the villain's captured, Committee press and media cameras will swarm. You two—Eunbyeol and Miyang—will debut to the public then, so stick strictly to the script we've prepared."
The media play directing began.
"Miyang, say you were the villain Nyestringer operating in the shadows, but by chance met the righteous, upright hero aspirant Eunbyeol and were moved to repent. Then, the two of you teamed up, shared intel from the networks, and caught this serial killer as your first act of atonement."
A reformed ex-villain. And the hot friendship and collaboration of the slum-orphan aspirant who guided her. It was a tearjerker story straight out of a movie, primed to tug heartstrings and spike dopamine.
"Once this story hits the airwaves, the public will go wild for your authentic rags-to-riches vibe. Riding that wave of opinion, I'll use my Planning and Coordination authority to fast-track you both as official Committee heroes."
Last Moment, the instructor listening to Ayoung's media ploy, tsked indifferently.
"Tch. Shooting a damn drama now. Since when was the hero biz an acting academy?"
She grumbled curtly but tossed towels from the floor onto Eunbyeol and Miyang's heads, casually showing her care.
"Whatever, dance or act for the cameras—I don't give a shit. But they're my trainees, so don't come back banged up by some C-rank punk. If you get hurt, make it just muscle tears. That way I can stitch 'em back painfully."
"Thank you, Instructor! We won't lose!"
"Hmph, don't worry-nyang. Miyang'll fry that punk in seconds."
As Eunbyeol and Miyang steeled their resolve, Last Moment's gaze shifted to Ohoo—who'd stayed silent, arms crossed throughout the briefing.
"But him?"
Last Moment jerked her chin at Ohoo.
"Ohoo, why're you mute as a clam? Your name's conveniently missing from the media script too. If you're not stepping up, why endure that bone-grinding pain training with me?"
All eyes focused on Ohoo at the instructor's blunt question.
"......"
Ohoo stared at the hologram screen with a hardened expression for a moment, then answered flatly and low.
"I'll tag along, obviously. Gotta back you up on-site."
"Then why skip the cameras? Aren't you the crew leader?"
"......That's."
Ohoo trailed off, dropping his gaze to the floor.
He was rock-solid on joining the op.
But.
Those horrific malicious comments from past internet communities. The anonymous masses who'd spat thousands of venomous words at his hideous looks, even mocking his mother's death. Though the hypnosis app's commands had forcibly erased that rage and trauma, burying his mentality deep. The scars rooted in his unconscious still weighed down his ankles heavily.
If he stepped before the public. If those repulsive cameras and spotlights hit him again. Would people mob him as "pig spawn" once more? And wouldn't that mockery inevitably tarnish his mother Shooting Star's honor again?
Blaming his self-loathing, Ohoo inwardly shrank from facing the media and public, stepping back a pace. He was fine as a shadow from behind.
"We can sort positions on-site. Right now, those two taking the spotlight makes way more narrative sense anyway."
Ayoung shut off the screen and issued firm orders.
"No time. Head to Bupyeong at midnight and start tracking. Everyone, gear up quick."
"Yes, Director!"
"Got it-nyang!"
Eunbyeol and Miyang hurried to grab their stuff and change into civvies in the locker room. Ohoo silently packed his gear too.
Miyang threw on a plain T-shirt and short dolphin pants with the black eye-mask from her Nyestringer days. Even as a secret crew with full Committee backing, for their public debut, they had to stick to the street-rat civvie concept.
"What's this?"
Eunbyeol was about to pull out her ratty hoodie when she spotted a fancy box in her locker.
Opening it carefully.
"Oh right... the costume."
It was the crude costume the maid had taken from Rapidstar's mansion days ago for cleaning and repairs.
"Whoa..."
From the crooked seams she'd hand-stitched herself to the worn fabric texture—it preserved her past traces while being neatly mended. Even scratches she'd missed were reinforced.
Eunbyeol hesitated, then grabbed scissors and deliberately tore the hems and cuffs a bit.
Miyang watched in disbelief.
"Why rip up the nice fix-nyang?"
Eunbyeol answered seriously.
"Authenticity! Poor slum aspirant concept—if the costume looks too crisp and new, people'll suspect. Gotta look a bit worn and beat-up for realness."
"What a hassle-nyang."
As she said that and slipped into her costume to layer civvies over it.
Shrrk—.
The fibers Eunbyeol had snipped wriggled like living things, clumping back together and restoring to pristine condition in an instant.
"......Huh?"
"Wh-what-nyang?! That's creepy-nyang!"
Eunbyeol and Miyang's eyes widened simultaneously.
The old costume was just crude rags. But the repaired one was now a cutting-edge special suit—identical in look, but with self-repair functions.
"Ah... that's why it took so long to return."
Eunbyeol marveled at the S-rank hero's wealth and support.
But.
'Come to think of it... the dye's faded a lot lately.'
Eunbyeol carefully set the suit back in the box and eyed the mirror. Her red-dyed hair had faded badly, black roots starkly visible.
As an aspirant, she'd just mimicked her idol Shooting Star out of fear and uncertainty.
But now was different. This was her own chosen path, her real first step as a hero.
'I've already gotten plenty of help... and this chance too...'
So Eunbyeol unhesitatingly set aside the costume of her past admiration.
'I wanna prove myself as me...!'
She tugged on just her usual civvie hoodie.
Geared up and dressed, the three hurried out of the training hall. Before the door, Last Moment saw them off, arms crossed.
"Hey. Like I said, don't get hurt."
"Hehe, no worries-nyang! Finally free from this hell training... gonna live a bit now-nyang!"
Miyang cheered, tail wagging freely.
But Last Moment snorted.
"What? Hero work means training forever. See you tomorrow."
"......Nyang? This hell forever-nyang?!"
At Last Moment's merciless verdict, Miyang despaired and tried to flop to the floor, but.
"Hurry up."
Ohoo grabbed her scruff and dragged her out.
They piled into Ayoung's idling pickup truck.
And so, the vehicle headed for Bupyeong.