Chapter 97
Chapter 97
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 97
Chapter Title: Captured Heir
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# 97
-Yes!? Is that really true?
"There's no time for chit-chat right now."
-Ah, aaa! Got it. We'll save the thanks for later. I'll definitely be in touch.
The comms cut off immediately.
That was all I could do. Now it was time to wait.
'...No, that's not right. This is just the beginning.'
Luring out the punitive squad was merely the prologue.
I might've been the star of the show today, but things were about to change.
'Where the hell is Roze, though...?'
I checked the panel.
The signal was coming from a bit farther away.
I piloted the combat drone in that direction.
We left the urban area behind. Following the signal, we arrived at a luxurious resort perched in a quiet, elevated spot backed by mountains.
'Looks like she already had herself a party.'
The area around the resort was a total mess.
Scattered everywhere were people in armor suits like the attackers, all knocked out cold. The lobby level was buried under an avalanche of dirt and debris.
That's where I found Roze—in the rooftop pool.
"Lemon!"
She spotted me and waved.
Then, as if remembering something, her face fell abruptly.
I jumped down from the combat drone and landed in front of her.
She spoke in a small voice.
"Sorry. I forgot."
"Huh? Forgot what?"
"That I'd come help you right away?"
"Oh, that..."
She was still hung up on it.
Looks like she'd gotten caught up in the fight and made it all the way here in the heat of the moment. Hard to blame her, really.
We'd faced some fierce resistance, but we were both safe.
"Don't sweat it. Here, put this on first."
"...Huh?"
I glanced away slightly and shrugged off my overcoat, handing it to her.
Her current outfit was a disaster—hard to know where to look.
'She went wild in a party dress, after all...'
My clothes weren't in great shape either, but with our size difference, it'd be way better for her.
Roze looked down at herself, then hurriedly grabbed the coat from my hand and threw it on.
"...Did you see?"
"See what?"
I replied in a casually feigned tone.
This level of exposure was par for the course in intense sparring sessions anyway.
Not to mention all the physical contact that happened constantly—you didn't feel anything special about it.
'...That's what I thought.'
But today, her outfit was different from usual, and I had to admit it hit me harder than expected.
Honestly, a dress getting wrecked like that felt like cheating.
I turned my eyes to the surroundings.
There were things that had been bugging me since I arrived.
"Who are these guys?"
I pointed to the ones slumped unconscious in the corner.
Their outfits suggested they were resort guests, but since they were tied up with the armor suit guys, they weren't just civilians.
"Hmm... no idea?"
"You chased them all the way here, knocked 'em out, and you don't know who they are?"
"I did hear someone call him 'young master.'"
"...What?"
How many people would the punitive squad call "young master"?
I hurried over and tilted the bound guy's head back to check his face.
It was bruised and swollen from the beating, but it was definitely a face I knew.
"Junior?"
Herman K. Junior VII—the firstborn son of the Herman family, someone I'd clashed with once before.
Clear proof that this attack was the work of Mutant Medical Corporation.
'What the hell?'
For a moment, I felt the tension drain right out of me.
Could things really fall into place this easily?
Or was this some new kind of trap?
A whirlwind of doubts swirled in my head.
"You know him?"
"You saw him too. The outsider at our academy's awards ceremony."
"No clue."
Roze tilted her head.
Whatever her memory, it didn't matter.
Known or not, capturing this guy was a massive win.
I immediately informed Naphrael of the situation while separating the unconscious Junior to check his condition.
'Beat just shy of killing him.'
Not a single inch of him was unscathed.
Roze didn't usually go this hard on regular folks, so he'd clearly done something to piss her off.
Considering Junior's womanizing ways, I could guess what without even looking.
'No way he'd stay quiet seeing her like that.'
I glanced at Roze.
She was rummaging through a cabinet on the wall, pulling out some clothes.
She peeked at me briefly, then vanished into the building.
-What the hell is this? Puhahaha! For real?
Right then, as I checked the message, comms connected, and Naphrael's booming laugh filled the line.
"Yeah."
-Jackpot. This is why working with you is so damn fun.
"What do you wanna do?"
-What's your take?
I didn't answer right away, buying a moment.
Then I firmed up my resolve and spoke.
"Hand him over."
-Huh?
Naphrael sounded baffled.
It was unexpected, sure.
Publicly leveraging this guy would make things way easier.
No matter how they denied it, having a figure like him captured at the scene with the perpetrators made denial impossible.
Mutant Medical's response was predictable.
They'd pin it on Junior acting alone.
Claim it stemmed from that humiliation at the awards ceremony when we crossed paths—some personal vendetta.
Sure, an attempt on an active superhuman's life would hit HQ hard, but if that was it, it wouldn't deviate much from our original plan.
'That level of damage isn't enough.'
If I hadn't known his true value, I'd have gone that route.
But Junior was a card the current Herman patriarch could never abandon.
No matter what.
Having a joker in hand and playing it soft would be idiotic.
I explained my thinking to Naphrael.
He responded with a skeptical tone.
-You think that'll fly? Blood ties or not, doubt they'll bite.
"It'll work. Trust me."
-Heh, that signature confidence of yours? ...Yeah, you deserve to talk like that.
He muttered something under his breath—hard to catch.
"What?"
-Got it. We'll do it your way.
"Good. Then with the Herman family..."
-I'll handle that.
"Huh?"
-My job. I had some words for that bastard anyway. Perfect timing.
His tone was normal, but it carried an edge of emotion.
'You good?'
I probably knew the Herman family better than Naphrael.
But whether he'd nail the negotiation was another question.
As long as we got what we needed, it'd be fine. I decided to let him take it.
"Alright. That's on you, then..."
We briefly hashed out the details and cut comms.
Soon, a transport ship swooped in, loaded only Junior and his entourage, and flew off.
The attackers littered around the resort were collected by arriving Federation troops.
They wouldn't learn about Junior.
"Nice, you changed."
By the time things were cleaned up, Roze reappeared.
She'd showered in the interim—her face fresh and dewy.
Her outfit was practical, like her usual training wear, in a bright color matching her hair that gave off a vibrant vibe.
"...Did I take too long?"
"Nah. Been busy cleaning up."
I nodded toward the outside.
Roze stepped fully into the pool area, surveyed it, and her eyes went wide.
"Whoa, everything's gone already?"
"Yeah."
She leaned over the railing, peering out.
I still had a nagging question, so I asked her.
"So, how'd you end up here?"
Roze hesitated before answering.
"...Well, I was taking out a sniper when someone suddenly targeted me with a laser sight. Got pissed and... yeah."
"You chased them here because you were pissed?"
"...Uh-huh."
"Haha..."
What the hell.
A dumb laugh escaped me involuntarily.
She was hesitating because she'd gotten distracted by the laser and forgotten about me.
But that had nothing to do with why I was shocked.
'That's gotta be, what, 10 klicks from here?'
I gauged the distance to the parking structure visible across the rooftop.
At least 10 km.
The air was clear enough for visibility, but even large buildings were just shapes—people mere dots.
Yet according to Roze, she'd clearly identified the guy lasing her as Junior.
From 10 km away.
No idea what Junior was thinking pulling that stunt, but she wouldn't have chased him the whole way while he kept the dot on her.
His own people wouldn't have let it slide.
That meant she'd detected it instantly, pursued, and pinpointed the ringleader accurately. Honestly, was that even possible?
Roze flushed red under my stare and started babbling.
"...H-he was aiming at a weird spot! And when I got here, he kept saying creepy stuff."
"Weird spot where... Oh. Yeah, he had it coming."
"Right? Right?"
I nodded.
Poor bastard.
Of all the dumb things to do, he dug his own grave.
He was screwed either way, but no need to shorten his lifespan like that.
It was so absurd I could only sigh.
I'd profited big time, sure, but good luck explaining the backstory to anyone.
"...You did good."
"Yeah!"
"Wanna hit the auction?"
I'd worried the terror attack might cancel it, but the organizers kindly messaged that the charity event was still on.
It was for war victims—they wouldn't stop for this.
People in this era could be pretty oblivious, in a way.
'Minimal civilian casualties, probably.'
Contacting Councilor Udland was a solid call.
He'd mobilized the self-defense forces already at the scene to clear the smoke and administer first aid to those exposed.
Dilution in the air had weakened it faster than expected.
Plus, I hadn't realized—people inside the building were fine thanks to the auto air purifiers.
In the end, only street-level pedestrians were affected, so cleanup was going smoothly.
"Huh? Auction?"
"What, don't wanna go?"
"No, it's not that. Can I go like this...?"
"Oh, yeah, gotta change."
I eyed my clothes as I said it.
The barrier had kept off the dust, but it was torn and rumpled to hell.
Roze shook her head, though.
"No, I mean me."
"You?"
"This isn't like that dress from earlier..."
She eyed her casual, training-like outfit.
True, it didn't perfectly match the charity auction's dress code.
'But it's not a total mismatch.'
It was a charity event, so they weren't strict on attire.
Showing up mattered more than the clothes—as long as you didn't look like a total slob, no one would turn you away.
"Nah, you're fine."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Throw a cardigan over it, good to go."
Roze had more than pulled her weight already.
No need to put her through extra hassle twice.
I went to call a car, then froze.
"...Ah."
The last image of it—beyond recognition—flashed in my mind.
Even with everything going to plan, a tiny pang of sadness hit me.
*
The Monarch family fired the opening salvo.
Naphrael, acting as family head, held a press conference pinpointing Mutant Medical Corporation as the terror attack's masterminds and unleashing a torrent of condemnation.
Mutant Medical denied it, of course, but offered zero rebuttal to the mounting evidence and circumstances.
'Now comes the real test.'
This wasn't some small fry.
Sure, it was tempting to dismiss them under their "corporate" facade chasing profits—but never underestimate.
Think of it like this.
Mutant Medical was a nation unto itself, like a modern superpower.
It had its own sphere of influence, millions living off its operations, and the military might to defend it.
All three elements of statehood, satisfied.