C-Rank Villain: Deogi (2)
The glittering lights of Gangnam's skyscrapers, standing in for the moon and stars, faded away along the outer roads. A matte black pickup truck glided forward like a shadow.
Its destination: Bupyeong in Incheon. Once a thriving satellite city centered around Bupyeong Station, it had devolved into an immigrant quarantine slum due to ability-user crimes and illegal residents.
Park Ayoung gripped the wheel, her expression ice-cold. True to her title as Director of Planning and Coordination at the KHC, she began briefing Ohoo in the passenger seat and the two aspiring heroes in the back on the political and geographical backdrop of tonight's debut stage, her voice dry and detached.
"Bupyeong is essentially a containment zone beyond the government's control. Police forces focus all their budget and manpower solely on isolation checkpoints surrounding it, rather than investigations or maintaining order inside the slums."
Whether they stabbed each other inside or riots broke out—as long as nothing leaked out, the government turned a blind eye.
Han Eunbyeol, gazing at the bleak scenery outside from the back seat, swallowed hard. Shattered streetlights. Walls crammed with graffiti...
"Hey, that's not paint—it's blood, nyang. Dried blood."
"What? B-blood?!"
And in every alley corner, the sharp glares of thugs flashed past the windows.
"In any case, what that means is..."
Ayoung locked eyes with Eunbyeol via the rearview mirror and added, "A murder happened in this motel, but the police roughly identified the villain's features and closed the case. No manpower, and the victims were unidentified illegal immigrants anyway."
In other words, wherever police reached, there would be official restrictions and interference. Unmarked were still trainees without licenses. This was the perfect spot for rookies to pull off their secret debut battle undetected.
"A dog bastard? Total opposite of a cat like me, nyaaang."
Miyang crossed her arms in the back seat and snorted derisively.
"Filthy mutt pup—tonight Miyang's gonna separate your bones from flesh and stew 'em into dog meat soup, nyang."
"Don't get cocky, Miyang. It's only estimated C-rank for now. Who knows what variables there might be."
With Ayoung's calm warning, the tires screeched—skreeeeech—over the unpaved road's bumps before the truck halted in front of a flickering, rundown three-story motel.
Thud. The doors opened, and the four stepped into the dark alley. The dingy, decrepit motel's exterior reeked, lying in wait for Ohoo's group.
"Ugh...!"
The moment Eunbyeol, at the front, pushed open the motel's grimy glass door, a short scream escaped her lips. Before the visual shock hit—
The stench assaulted her nostrils first. The rusty iron tang of thick blood was almost perfumed by comparison. Rotting meat mingled with the acrid reek of near-death victims' filth and excrement, filling the narrow lobby.
"Urk...! Hrk, ugh...!"
Eunbyeol reflexively clamped her hands over her mouth and nose, collapsing to the floor. Her stomach twisted; the chicken breast and protein shakes from daily training surged back up her throat.
And there—
"Yup, security's shit, nyang. They haven't even cleared the body, nyang."
Behind the counter lay the motel's owner, a middle-aged man's corpse, sprawled in gruesome ruin.
"Eek...!"
Half his head was gone, bitten off in one chomp. Blood had congealed black around the severed neck bones and shredded esophagus. A thin film coated the blood puddle, soaking the counter's linoleum.
Bzzz, bzzz. Dead less than half a day, but the heat and filth had already drawn swarms of flies buzzing over the body.
"Hah, hah... Urgh!"
Eunbyeol finally lost it, lunging for a trash bin in the corner and dry-heaving.
This was the heroic world she'd dreamed of while patching old cloth into a costume in her room corner. Not the managed scenes from news screens or smartphone displays.
The raw, unfiltered crime scene of a real villain. The blood's stench and horror shattered her romantic hero fantasies.
In stark contrast to Eunbyeol's reaction—
"Wooow, check this out, Master! Jaw strength is insane~ Bones snapped like crackers, nyang!"
Miyang, who'd tailed countless villains in the shadows, filming dismembered bodies and spurting blood for snuff flicks like it was breakfast, hopped over the counter with playground cheer, peering curiously at the corpse.
"Bite marks say it morphs to wolf or shepherd size? Didn't chomp the nape—just crunched from crown to jaw joint whole, nyang!"
Miyang tapped the bloody counter with gloved hands, casually analyzing the killer's bite force.
And between the two women's extremes—
"..."
Ohoo examined the scene impassively, unfazed by the corpse and pulsating stench.
Just before stepping out of the truck—
> Command: Block sense of smell. No perception of odors or stench.
—he'd re-entered his first hypnosis command on himself. Vision couldn't be blocked, so he still had to see the decomposing body.
But he didn't waver. He couldn't.
This wasn't new. This was mild by comparison. A body found within a day.
Less painful than his mother's traces, left to rot into black sludge for three days, or Ha Deok-gu's corpse with its head blown open on the bed.
Should've shared the hypnosis with Eunbyeol. She's struggling hard.
More worry for Eunbyeol's distress at her first scene than shock at the body.
As Eunbyeol calmed her heaving and looked up, she saw Ohoo's unflinching back before the corpse.
In this smell... not even twitching? As expected of Shooting Star's son...!
Tears welling, she burned with solitary awe, oblivious to the app shutting down his smell.
"Hm?"
Ohoo's impassive scan of the body, lobby floor—his gaze halted on specific tracks in the dust-caked floor.
He knelt, squatting to trace bloodstains and footprints from the body toward the hallway.
"Eunbyeol. Can you stand?"
"Y-yes! I'm f-fine, mister!"
Eunbyeol wiped her mouth frantically and approached. Ohoo pointed to messy footprints in the dust.
"Look. Not just one set of tracks."
"Huh? Tracks?"
"Bloody prints from the motel owner's blood head toward the window—Deogi's, probably. Means it killed and fled right out."
Ohoo's thick finger pointed to others.
"But beside the bloody ones, three or four adult male-sized prints overlap, no blood on them. Meaning—right before or after the kill, three or four intruders entered. Deogi didn't just kill for cash and bolt."
Ohoo rose slowly, voice firm.
"It's being hunted. Desperately chased, killed the obstructing owner in rage, and bolted through the window."
"Let go! Let me go, you fucking bitch! Aaaagh!"
A thrashing scream echoed from the dark alley outside.
Ayoung, guarding the truck, dragged a scrawny, ragged-clothed man inside by force.
"Auntie, who's this punk?"
Ohoo asked. Ayoung panted, slamming the man down.
"Found him hiding, trembling in trash piles by the motel while I watched. Caught him fleeing. Probably... the sole witness to today's murder."
Ohoo sighed inwardly in relief.
Phew, thank god. Shit...
Eunbyeol's admiring gaze had pressured him; his track-reading was just a guess. No forensics or criminology knowledge—a civilian's half-delusional hunch.
But a witness who'd seen it appeared. A key one, walking right in, sparing tedious canvassing for their debut.
"Let go! I'm telling you, let go, you crazy bitches! I didn't see shit! I know nothing!"
The witness dragged by Ayoung shook violently. Ragged clothes, broken Korean accent. Hiding in trash instead of calling cops.
Obviously an illegal immigrant in Bupyeong's zone. Testifying risked deportation—or villain retaliation. Hence the fear and flight attempt.
Truth or justice? His wretched survival came first.
Of course—
But why didn't he bolt earlier? Could've if he didn't want to talk.
One question. Half a day since the murder; he could've left anytime.
"Aaaagh! Let go!"
Before Ohoo pondered, the witness kicked wildly, nearly breaking Ayoung's grip.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
A crouched shadow rose.
"...!"
The witness looked up.
"Wh-what the hell!"
Even hooded, the muscular giant loomed. Ohoo, once a jiggling fat lump, now a human tank post-Last Moment's hellish muscle-tear training—choking foes just by standing.
No thought for legal procedure or witness rights.
This 'investigation' is illegal anyway, thanks to Park Ayoung.
Swish. Ohoo's hand gripped the witness's collar nape with iron strength.
"U-urk...! Gack!"
The collar tightened; a choked scream burst. Adult man's struggles crushed like a child's tantrum before Ohoo's power.
"Shut up and be quiet."
Ohoo hoisted the thrashing witness one-handed, dragging him outside.
"Master's such a man, nyang...! Kyaa!"
Miyang clasped hands in rapture at the merciless takedown; Eunbyeol gaped but trailed.
Ohoo opened the pickup's rear—sealed restraint cell.
"Get in. No time."
Wham! He shoved the witness inside.
Tossed like luggage into the dark truck cell.
"Aaaah!"
As the man tumbled on the steel floor, Ohoo crammed his bulk in and mounted the rear door.
Bang—!! Heavy bulletproof door shut. External eyes and noise cut off.
Click. Dim yellow interior light flickered on.
In the cramped, sealed space, the witness huddled trembling in the corner, staring up at Ohoo.
"P-please... spare me... I didn't see nothin'...!"
Ohoo reached wordlessly into his pants pocket toward the begging, terrified man.
Coaxing statements would waste time. Illegals lied endlessly to escape.
No one's watching anyway.
No need to delay. Direct brain-scrambling was faster, surer.
"Eyes open wide."
Ohoo pulled his smartphone, thrusting it before the witness's face. A creepy purple spiral spun center-screen.
"Wh... what... what is this..."
The moment the witness's pupils caught the spiral—