Silence is Golden
Thirteen. If it wasn't a superpower that could be replenished mid-battle like the new representative of Area 7, the fight would drag on as a battle of attrition from start to finish. Like all superpowers, the fundamental requirement for activation was focus. As wounds and damage piled up, concentration naturally wavered, but regenerators like me could keep fighting at peak condition through instant healing until our powers were completely depleted. That was also why recovery-type superpowers capable of healing others were so highly valued. Because of this, using drugs or narcotics against regenerators was considered a fairly effective tactic. Superpowered individuals had some level of resistance, but since they recovered to normal state quickly, their tolerance didn't build up, making it the easiest way to inflict mental damage before their powers ran out.
So I had assumed it was just some ordinary powder that could be absorbed through the body even if it didn't reach the bronchial tubes. I thought they'd poured several bags of it on me and knocked me unconscious. But from what they were saying, it didn't sound like that kind of powder. Moreover, diluting it in water for skin absorption and having this much volume applied only twice shouldn't leave someone in an abnormal state. From my perspective, the amount was far too small. Even by ordinary people's standards, this quantity shouldn't affect someone this way. At least, not according to everything I knew until now.
"...What exactly did you spray on me?"
"Ah~. You're only curious now? After thrashing around like that earlier. I guess even drugs can be scary, huh?"
Fortunately, I hadn't been unconscious for long. But at the same time, something felt off. As I'd mentioned before, once I fell asleep, I didn't wake easily. The guy's reaction made it hard to dismiss it as simply "waking up early because it wasn't time to sleep yet." His tone suggested the drug was something extraordinary. His attitude also implied it could bypass Regeneration and cause damage.
"This is, you fucking sh—"
"Hey. Earlier you said I was the one doing the torturing, but you didn't complain when I gave you information."
"Ah. Well. I guess it doesn't matter."
"Right. Do whatever you want."
Without sight, I lacked clues and evidence to make judgments. I could guess the location from how sound echoed, but it wasn't enough for certainty. If one of them approached, I could grab them with my relatively free legs and do something, but confirming their approach from footsteps alone was difficult.
"Ha... Fine. So if I get the information, I can handle the rest myself?"
"..."
"I'll take that as a yes."
Rustle, rustle—
Huh? I hadn't heard that rustling sound when they walked earlier. Had they changed clothes in between?
"A few questions. What's the password for this phone, and what's your relationship with that bastard from Area 4?"
Phone? Ah, right. Even during the fight, I hadn't taken the phone out of my pocket. If they had it despite me not removing it, that meant Mari had been captured. It was unsettling, but at least the uncertainty was better than confirmation. "That bastard from Area 4"... He was probably referring to me before the change. Realizing the connection might mean they'd seen my manager Mari, but I hoped they'd known about my powers in advance based on their combat style. It might seem self-serving, but who wouldn't wish for the safety of someone like family? Mari was tough, but not on the level of a superpowered individual. She probably had little resistance to drugs either. So all I could do was hope she hadn't been caught.
"Well, I'm not particularly curious, and that guy will probably complain anyway, so just do it half-heartedly. The result won't change."
"Are you saying that right next to him?"
"What. Got a problem?"
"Not really."
I rubbed my wrists subtly. To an outsider, it would look like I was just dangling from the ceiling, moving slightly. Very slightly.
"The logo's worn off from long use, but I know exactly what this is. A Sebric leather wallet. Discontinued forty-five years ago, and the company went bankrupt over thirty-five years ago."
Ah. So thirty-five years had already passed since Sebric went under. It had been a decent company.
Before I knew it, he'd approached and grabbed me by the collar. No—his voice was coming from farther away this time. Covering that distance without making a sound would be impossible, so he must have lifted me with telekinesis. As expected, he was a telekinetic. "The only person who'd use something that belongs in a museum in everyday life is that fucking bastard from Area 4."
His voice grew heated. That sudden shift probably meant he had a personal grudge against me. Since I hadn't been unconscious long after passing out in Area 3, we were likely still in Area 3. That meant he was one of the ones who'd fled from Area 4 to Area 3 because of me.
"So what? Like I said earlier, whatever you do won't mean anything."
"It might not mean anything, but it matters. At least to me."
The grip on my collar loosened. It felt more like being released than dropped. That sensation confirmed he was definitely a telekinetic. He wasn't grabbing me directly but shaping telekinetic force into a hand to lift me, which also meant he knew telekinesis didn't work well on me. I didn't know about his other powers, but I'd have to target this one first. It had little effect on me, but telekinesis was so versatile that it couldn't be helped.
Rustle—
Rustle—
"While I do this, you get ready too."
"I'm already prepared."
"...Not you. The one hanging over there."
Rustle, rustle—
"Ah, right. Strip that guy."
"Ugh~. That's your thing?"
"Tsk. Why do kids these days have such foul mouths? Seriously."
Thud, thud—
Footsteps approached. The absence of that distinctive rustling sound meant the one whose powers were unconfirmed was coming toward me. If it had been the other guy, I could've handled it, but of course it was this one.
Swish— His hand reached for the upper part of my chest.
~ One button came undone.
~ Another button followed.
~ Yet another button came loose.
He was carefully unbuttoning them one by one. I felt no shame.
"Hey, hey, hey!! If you do it one by one like that, when are you ever going to finish? Besides, both his arms are tied, so you can't take it off that way anyway. Just rip it!"
"You didn't say to rip it earlier."
"Haa... Forget it. I'll do it."
Sound echoed. Since this place was enclosed, that made sense, but it felt more like something was draped over us muffling the sound. Combined with the earlier rustling, it was probably a protective suit. The fact that only he was wearing one suggested the drug worked specifically on superpowered individuals, or more strongly on them.
Thud—! My collar was grabbed. Again, it felt like telekinetic force rather than a hand. Then it was yanked hard to both sides as if trying to tear the fabric. But it didn't rip.
"What the... This. Why won't it tear?"
"Why not just give up? It already seems wrong."
"Shut up."
Hiss... I'd expected him to hit me at this point. He was calmer than I'd thought. I'd been provoking him intermittently, too.
Thud—! Thud—! He kept tugging at the collar, but the shirt showed no sign of tearing—not even a scratch or sound. Finally, as if giving up, the telekinetic hand gripping my collar moved downward.
~ ~ ~
Thud—! All the buttons came undone, and the shirt tucked into my pants was pulled out. Since the shas was completely soaked, the discomfort actually lessened.
Swish— The hem of my shirt was grabbed and lifted up to where my hands were. After some maneuvering, it was tied to my wrists... or rather, to the rope binding my wrists. My shirt was made of material that didn't become see-through even when wet, so with my hands covered by the shirt now, maybe violent wrist movements wouldn't be too noticeable.
Next, the telekinetic force fiddled with my undershirt and easily unfastened it. Since it was just an ordinary undershirt with no special treatment, it came undone without any resistance. Refreshing. Nice.
"Alright, shall we begin?"
"You're the torturer."
"Ha... I know. Just talking to myself."
If he wasn't the torturer but had accompanied him, then he was probably the guard or recorder. Whoosh— Water poured down from above my head. No, water mixed with the drug. Whoosh— Another pour.
"Ah, right. Go get some more of the drug. And turn on the water while you're at it. Like you said, I'm the torturer, so you should listen to me in the torture room, right?"
"Once we leave the torture room, I won't have to follow those orders anymore."
"...Then let's change it to 'until the torture ends,' not just in the torture room."
"Understood."
Thud, thud, thud— One set of footsteps receded. From their conversation, they seemed to be equals or close to it. Their speech patterns also suggested their organization was formed by remnants who fled from Area 4. If I'd memorized the speech patterns and characteristics of all the villain organizations in Area 4, I could've identified them completely, but I usually just dealt with them on sight, so there was no way I knew that.
"Alright, before we start working just the two of us, let me ask you something."
Good. Now that it was just the two of us, let's get to work. He'd torture me, and I'd ambush him the moment he approached to do so.
"What's your relationship with that Area 4 bastard?"
A hero only needed to eradicate evil.
"Silence is golden, is that it? Try keeping that silence even now. From now on, you'll be screaming all day long."
Nothing else held any meaning.