Villain Catching a Villain (4)
Savoring the trashy taste of the coffee, I scrolled through the darknet posts in a half-hearted daze.
The posts were starting to lack any real substance. More than that, reading them had lost its appeal.
'The terror's just a few days away.'
Ever since the Starfield incident, thoughts of what Seo Ha-yoon and Ida-in would go through kept swirling in my head, refusing to settle.
"…."
In this state, I wouldn't be able to get anything done properly.
It was the curse of knowledge unique to someone possessed. Knowing what was coming wasn't always a blessing. If you had even a shred of empathy, it just led to this agonizing torment.
'Damn pointless affection for the original story holding me back.'
I'd read the original Hero Chronicle way too obsessively, so I'd grown attached to the leads like Seo Ha-yoon and Ida-in. That made it impossible to treat their fates like they were someone else's problem.
'Screw it. Whatever.'
Brooding like this forever was pointless.
I shot to my feet and headed for the steel pipe leaning crookedly against the wall, where it was barely holding itself up. It looked ready to topple any second.
If the fallen pipe rolled to my left, I wouldn't help. If it rolled right, I would. That was the game I invented for myself.
'The outcome of this game is decreed by the gods and can never be overturned….'
As I muttered setup rules to immerse myself, the unbalanced pipe suddenly rolled hard.
The result was….
As I suited up with my mask and gear to head out, I texted Yongpal.
Ring ring ring….
"I'm sorry, I can't take your call right now. Connecting to voicemail…."
'Did he get nabbed?'
Crusher might've smashed him in revenge. I hoped not, but given Crusher's temper, it was possible. If so, it'd suck.
No choice but to check myself. Annoying, but I'd trust in Crusher's simplicity.
Scour every suspicious warehouse in Districts 21 and 22 like a rat hunt, smash anything that could be a weapon, and disrupt the terror—that was the plan. Kill off Crusher's minions too.
'Truth is, more people die from other villains' gunfire than Crusher's gravity field.'
Neutralize Crusher's goons and their weapons, and far fewer people die. Heroes and cops near Starfield could handle the terror easier too.
'It's all just to ease my own mind.'
Plus, side profits. Selling their guns and gear would rake in cash. This month was Villain Hunting Intensives. That mindset worked.
That was when I was about to head toward Districts 21 and 22.
"Hey there, handsome. Where you rushing off to in such a hurry?"
Leaning against the wall near the one-room's first floor, a silver-haired beauty called out to me. Neon patterns on her outfit glowed faintly in the shadows.
No way I'd miss that psychedelic fashion.
"…."
I knew her instantly.
'Snake.'
A named villain from the original story. A-Rank. Executive under the Red Empress in Yeomra. Born with a superpower for intel gathering, but her combat skills were top-notch too.
She was a total psycho in this world too. The classic hedonistic criminal archetype in this genre—acts if it's fun by her standards, skips if it's not.
And that Snake was talking to me.
'Caught her eye?'
I'd prided myself on living the peaceful villain life without crossing Yeomra or the Gumi Alliance.
"Looks like you're dying to ruin Crusher's plans."
Snake flashed a sultry smile, staring right through my mask like she could see everything.
"Hunting for the warehouse where Crusher stashed his terror weapons, right? You can't just charge around blindly."
Snake had pierced my goal too.
But I wasn't shocked. I knew her superpower.
Neon Hand.
Snake's ability. Touch with her nanomachine-filled hand to read info on people or objects. Scatter them wide, and she pulls mass intel from an area. She'd used it to read my plans. Probably already seeded the vicinity.
"I know where they hid the stuff they treasure. Want me to tell you?"
"What's the price, Snake?"
It'd help, but massive unease hit me. No way a Yeomra exec spills that for free.
"Hm? Price? None really. Grateful someone's clearing pests for us. Hehe."
Snake approached, extending her glowing hand to caress me. The neon lines on her fingers shifted uneasily to white. The color changes as she touched me stung my eyes.
"Hmm… But pure goodwill might make you suspicious?"
Snake grinned at me, then poked my cheek playfully.
"Fine. Deal. One date with me. Grab a meal, get to know each other. Yeah?"
Her sweet scent and tone wafting over felt ominous—like a carnivorous plant's lure.
A meal with a Yeomra exec? Had to be an ulterior motive.
"…Ah. Refuse, and no info. But hunting solo, you won't make it before the terror."
Snake had a point.
"Heard lots of people wanna kill you too. Dragging time might put you in danger. Worried."
Snake gazed at me with mock pity and mischief.
"Who're you calling 'you' like that."
I backed away fast from her 'you' pet name.
"Aww. I call who I wanna 'you'."
Snake narrowed her eyes in a smile as I retreated.
Instinct screamed the danger of Snake's pattern—calling targets 'you' when intrigued or marking them. No good came from piquing her interest. Straight-up toying.
But Blank's gut instinct surged: no showing weakness here, or she'd exploit me forever.
'So what if it's Yeomra.'
Take the warehouse tip, act bold—no leverage. Crusher was a pest they wanted gone too. Me handling it? No issue.
"A date. Sounds good. But I pick the course."
Here, meet it head-on. My sharp instinct for picking steel pipes agreed.
"Oh my…."
Snake looked genuinely surprised, then burst into giggles.
"Uhuhuhuhu. Fine. Excited for your course. Hehe. Good. You. I like being led too. Contact you later."
Snake laughed long, then fiddled with her tablet.
Ding!
Coordinates popped up on my phone. No point freaking over how she got my number. That's her thing.
"Head here. See you on the date, you."
Snake sauntered off coolly. I caught myself staring at her swaying hips under the hoodie, then snapped out of it.
Time to raid these spots.
An abandoned sewer warehouse in District 22. One of their weapon hides, apparently.
My beloved steel pipe-kali sword drawn, I strode forward boldly.
Villains sprawled drunk on booze and drugs at the entrance, dead to the world.
A swing of the pipe sent the door guards to eternal sleep.
Kaaaaang—!
After clearing the entrance, I smashed the slate-blocked iron door wide open.
"Wh-what the fuck!! Shit!!" "M-my bro…!!! This bastard killed my bro!!" "Blank!! Fuck!! It's Blank!!"
Guys inside scrambled out in panic from all sides.
"Sangdu…!!! Rottsee…!!!"
One collapsed wailing over his dead buddies.
"They looked like they might wake up, so I tucked 'em back in."
No gratitude for my kindness. Hurtful.
Anyway, Snake's intel checked out.
Inside: rifles, bombs, piled in chaos. Enough for a small war. Definitely an armory.
Bingo.