A 'Pro' Hero, or a Pro 'Hero'
Twenty-six hostages.
No deaths.
Three seriously injured.
Several minor injuries.
And all the robbers subdued.
On top of that, Great America had caused zero casualties.
Honestly, hearing just this much, it was practically perfect.
Compared to my past life, at least, this result was nothing short of a miracle.
But.
Crackle...
The strange light swirling in Great America's eyes...
...made me doubt whether this could truly be called a success.
She wasn't looking at the weeping hostages, the robbers being carried out on stretchers, or the reporters pushing against the police line.
"I asked you, Jun. If I only break what you tell me to, is that enough?"
She was looking only at me.
I needed a moment to think.
She wasn't looking at the people.
She wasn't looking at the outcome, either.
She was purely, simply watching my reaction.
It was a textbook reaction of someone completely devoid of empathy.
That was why I had to deny it here.
"No,"
I replied shortly.
"Just breaking what I tell you to break doesn't solve everything."
"...Why?"
Great America's brow furrowed ever so slightly.
"Don't kill, don't throw, don't crush heads, don't slit throats, don't rip out spines, don't aim toward the hostages."
Great America slowly folded her fingers one by one.
"And now, you say only breaking what you tell me to isn't the answer either."
"..."
"Why? Why are there so many things I must not do? Why?"
There was a clear note of irritation in her voice.
But I couldn't afford to flinch or show fear.
She could hear my heartbeat.
She would know instantly if I grew tense or panicked.
So, I had to maintain my poker face and keep my emotions tightly under wraps.
"Power is meant to be used, isn't it? That is what I was taught. So why?!"
Crash—!
Her foot shattered a section of the lobby floor.
"..."
But it was still fine.
My foresight hadn't triggered.
She had no intention of killing me.
In other words, her question wasn't an act of rebellion, but pure curiosity.
It was like a child born holding a sword, unable to comprehend why they weren't allowed to cut anyone.
I took a quiet breath to steady myself.
"I'm not telling you not to use it."
"...Then what? What is it, then?"
"I'm telling you to think before you swing."
"Why should I think? I have you."
"..."
"That is why I am asking. How much can I break? Are hands okay? Arms? Legs? As long as they do not die, isn't it fine?"
Great America placed a hand on her chin.
"Come to think of it, it is very strange."
Then, her gaze drifted toward the robbers being carried away on stretchers.
"Those things are bad."
"They are."
"They tried to kill people, and they hurt you."
"That's also true."
"Then shouldn't they be broken?"
Soon, her eyes snapped back to me.
"Why must they be spared?"
"..."
I didn't want to give her a lecture on how even villains have human rights.
That didn't align with my own beliefs anyway, and it wasn't a logic that would ever work on her.
So, I steered the conversation in a slightly different direction.
"Killing is convenient. It's the fastest, easiest, and most certain way."
"Yes. So why not?"
"That's exactly why you shouldn't."
Great America's brow twitched.
"..."
"If you memorize that as the correct answer, you'll keep choosing the easy way out forever."
I didn't break eye contact.
"Ending things by killing. Silencing them by breaking them. That's the easiest thing you can do, isn't it?"
"...Yes."
"But who taught you that?"
"...?"
"Pax did."
At those words, a crimson light began to gather in Great America's eyes.
"Break them, eliminate them, leave only results."
But I paid it no mind and pressed on.
"If you move according to their methods, you aren't a hero."
"...Then what am I?"
"A weapon made by Pax."
"...A weapon."
Great America repeated the word slowly.
The crimson glow didn't fade.
However, rather than anger, the light in her eyes resembled that of a child staring at an incomprehensible problem.
"Is that bad?"
"..."
"Weapons are strong. They are useful. They can eliminate enemies."
She tilted her head.
"Pax wants me to do that, and don't those people want me to do that as well?"
Then, she looked at me again.
"But Jun, you do not want me to do that?"
"Yes,"
I answered simply.
"At least, not in front of me."
"..."
"Because I have no intention of using you as a weapon."
"Then?"
"I'm going to make you a hero. A symbol of America, a beacon of hope. Someone who can save people."
Click, flash—click—!
At that moment, reporters crossing the barricade line began flashing their cameras.
"Great America! Your performance was spectacular!"
"Mr. Ryu Hajun! No, Jun! What is your relationship with Great America?!"
"What is Pax Corporation's official stance—"
Countless reporters. Countless lenses and flashes.
Great America's gaze naturally drifted toward them.
"...Tsk. Those useless things."
"Hide your expression."
I spoke immediately.
Her eyes snapped back to me.
"...Sigh. What is it this time?"
"You have to smile."
"Smile?"
"Because you're the symbol of America."
"...Sigh."
Great America stared at me for a moment.
Then, she smiled.
Radiantly. All while her blood-stained hands hung loosely at her sides.
Holy shit...
Swallowing a curse, I spoke up immediately.
"...Put your hands behind your back."
"Why now?"
"They're covered in blood."
"...Ah."
Only then did she look down at her hands, as if she had just noticed.
Step, step.
Clasping her hands behind her back, she casually strolled out of the Bank of United Tower.
Watching her retreating figure, I thought to myself.
Perhaps, more than I thought...
...I have a lot of work to do.
This was going to be a very long journey.
"Sigh, fuck's sake."
Napalm spat out a curse as she soared through the sky on a trail of flames.
To be honest, she hated absolutely everything about this situation.
While she was off subduing some third-rate awakener, a major incident had gone down...
...and of all people, Great America and that Asian bastard were the ones who handled it.
Arriving late to a scene like that was incredibly grating.
And yet.
A hostage situation with five robbers. Plus, that crazy bitch went.
Deep down, she felt a strange sense of relief that Great America had been the one to go.
That lunatic wrapped in the Star-Spangled Banner must have destroyed something again.
And Hajun would be desperately struggling to clean up her mess.
If she arrived now and sorted everything out...
...at least a few cameras will naturally turn to me.
She could steal the spotlight once again.
That belief lingered in her mind.
However.
"Mr. Jun! Is it true that you were the one directing the scene?"
"Was Great America's delayed deployment on your orders, Mr. Jun?"
"Great America's presence just now was beyond words...! Where on earth did you come from?!"
Their attention was focused entirely on those two.
No one paid any mind to Napalm, who had just landed in a spectacular trail of fire.
"Oh, look, it's Napalm—"
"—Focus on those two first! Napalm wasn't even at the scene."
No, to be more precise, she had been pushed down the priority list.
The ones who had shone here were those two.
She was nothing more than a late-arriving outsider.
Because of that.
"...Haha."
Napalm forced the corners of her mouth upward.
It was fine. It wasn't too late.
She was one of the top star heroes in America.
An icon of flame with millions of followers.
Just because she was a little late to the scene didn't mean all eyes would bypass her.
At least, that was what she thought until now.
"Napalm! Did you just arrive?!"
Fortunately, another reporter recognized her and thrust a microphone in her face.
Napalm put on a practiced smile, showing off the poise of someone who had spent her life in front of the cameras.
"Yes, I was busy handling another incident—"
"—Then what do you think of the chemistry between those two? We'd love to hear your thoughts as an onlooker, Napalm!"
"...What?"
"What are they like in their daily lives? What kind of training do they do to show such perfect synergy on the field?!"
The reporter's eyes were definitely on Napalm.
But that was it.
The core of the question, the intent behind it—everything was solely for Hajun and Great America.
Fuck, it's not like I was slacking off! All because of these nobodies...!
It wasn't jealousy.
At least, that was what Napalm told herself.
She had no reason to care about that Asian bastard.
She had no reason to feel like she was losing her spot to that crazy bitch.
She just hated that those two were standing in front of the cameras where she belonged.
She hated that he was receiving the questions and attention that should have been hers.
And above all.
Throb.
...the fact that her body remembered his words even before her pride did.
...I hate all of this.
Yet, Napalm grit her teeth and answered the reporter anyway.
"Oh, those two are actually really close. Please look forward to Pax Corporation's upcoming content videos featuring them, okay?"
Because she was a 'pro' hero.
Because she was someone who knew how to control her emotions.
That was how she hid her feelings as best as she could.
Of course, to Hajun's eyes...
...the forced smile...
...the eyes that stiffened the moment she heard the question...
...and the left hand she unconsciously hid behind her back...
...had already been caught long ago.
...She needs a bit of correction, too.