A Side of Him Nobody Knows
I was exhausted.
No... actually, "exhausted" didn't even begin to cover it.
Every muscle in my body throbbed with a searing ache, as if they had all torn apart.
My joints creaked and groaned with a dull, deep-seated pain.
A burning migraine raged inside my skull, making me want to refuse to even open my eyes.
But I couldn't afford to waste a precious resource like time on something as trivial as pain.
"...Whew."
I forced my heavy eyelids open.
The first thing I saw wasn't the ceiling.
It was four mechanical arms, and a black-haired woman.
And a rather prominent chest blocking my field of view.
"...You awake?"
Hope was looking down at me, scribbling something on a sheet of paper.
...Ah.
An IV was hooked up to my arm, and my thigh was wrapped tightly in bandages.
It looked like Hope had given me first aid.
The moment I saw her, I knew exactly what I had to ask.
"What happened to the drone?"
"You really are a complete lunatic, aren't you? The very first thing out of your mouth is—"
"The drone."
"...Haah, fine. It's right over there, perfectly intact. Happy?"
"Then that's fine."
I slowly swung my legs off the cot she had laid me on.
Hope sighed at the sight of me, looking down at the paper she was writing on as she spoke.
"Honestly, I don't know what your ability actually is."
"I can see a few moments into the future. That's all."
"Yeah, I get that. But what kind of future do you have to see to move like that, and end up in this state?"
"...Effort and experience. That is all that made me who I am today."
"Ha... Your nervous system is completely overloaded. Your eyes, ears, sense of touch, pain receptors... none of your senses are functioning normally right now."
"..."
I had to admit, Hope's analysis was spot on.
Even in my past life, overusing my ability took a massive toll on my body.
This time was no different.
I had pushed my ability far beyond its safe limits.
The backlash had been severe enough to knock me unconscious.
Her diagnosis was entirely correct.
However...
"It's a common occurrence."
So it wasn't a problem.
"...What?"
"I've been through this countless times."
An overloaded ability? Nerve amplification? What did any of that matter?
I had people to save, bastards to crush, and broken souls to guide.
If I had to burn my own body to ashes to achieve that, if saving lives only cost me this much, then it was a bargain.
My body breaking down wasn't the issue.
The real issue was that chaos could break out again while I was unconscious.
Pain would eventually fade, and wounds would heal.
Crack.
I forced my stiff joints to pop and spoke.
"So, let's hear the analysis of the drone first."
"...You stubborn bastard."
Hope sighed as she looked at me, but she immediately got down to business.
"First, the component specifications. I really don't like them."
"Why is that?"
"Pax has a ton of partner companies. And combat gear is usually supplied by military contractors."
"I'm well aware."
"But this drone was modified using specs and tech from one of those very contractors."
"Which means they either got their hands on a military-grade drone that isn't even available to the public, or..."
"...They have an insider."
"That's my guess. But the real problem is something else."
Hope reached for the hologram device at her waist and turned it on.
Beep.
She projected the drone's structure in a 3D graphic.
"At first, I thought it was modified for combat."
"Yes."
"But it wasn't."
Hope pinched her fingers to zoom in on the center of the drone.
"There's way more transmitted data than ammunition or explosives."
"What kind of data are we talking about?"
"The staff on site, you, the other heroes, locations, network coordinates, everything. And it probably logged this place too."
"..."
"This bastard never intended to fight in the first place. He came purely to observe and gather intel, and then just crashed it."
...That sounded exactly like him.
The Director was the epitome of adaptation.
In my past life, he had never truly "failed."
Sure, he had been defeated many times.
His numerous devices would be completely destroyed in battle.
Or the massacres and terror attacks he declared would be thwarted.
But... even so, he always achieved his ultimate goal.
...It must have started with him trying to identify who noticed and stopped his drone.
Then he grew interested in me, and threw whatever resources he had on hand at me.
So, what did I need to do now?
"...I'll have to dig a little deeper into Pax."
In the end, it came down to internal security.
Where was the leak inside Pax, and who was the collaborator?
If it was neither... then I would just have to stop the disasters he would orchestrate when the time came.
My path remained unchanged.
And then...
"Also, I'm shutting this place down."
"...Shutting it down?"
"The Director probably has the coordinates of this place, so I'm going to wipe it clean."
She spoke as if it were no big deal.
"It's not my actual workshop anyway, just a dummy site."
Hope then pulled out a black case from under the workbench.
"And here."
Toss.
She threw the case to me. I reached out to catch it out of reflex, only for a sharp pain to shoot through my wrist, making me grimace.
"...Ugh."
"Serves you right."
"...What is this?"
"The finished product."
"...!"
Hearing Hope's words, I immediately popped the case open.
Inside lay a wealth of gear, including the Tactical Coat.
"...You finished it already?"
"It was already eighty percent done. It just got delayed a bit because you called me out."
"...Thank you."
"Instead of thanking me, don't use your ability or fight for a while. You're seriously going to die if you keep this up."
I looked at Hope's cold expression and gave my usual reply.
"I'll be careful."
"Careful, my ass. You're just going to do the exact same thing again."
"I meant I will try my best."
"Sigh, whatever. Do what you want."
"...Haha. I'll come find you when I need my gear inspected or want to get some new equipment."
"...Sure. See you around."
I packed the gear back into the case and slowly stood up.
Dragging my limping leg, I walked for quite a while until I reached a residential area.
BOOM—!
Behind me, a massive explosion echoed from the direction of the abandoned factory in the distance.
"...Talk about a flashy cleanup."
I quietly headed home.
"..."
Napalm sat in front of a terminal inside Pax.
She was looking at a directory she didn't have official authorization to access.
The private residences of the registered heroes.
The security level wasn't low, but digging up a staff member's ID and password was child's play for her.
She typed his name into the search bar.
Beep.
Ryu Hajun / JUN
"...? What's this?"
The strange thing was that the clearance level required to view his residential address was unusually high.
Residence: Queens, New York—
But she had already prepared another account for just such an obstacle.
"...Found it."
Napalm obtained the information without much trouble.
Her reason for seeking him out was clear.
She was going to demand answers.
What did he know, and why was he keeping it to himself?
And what was that look in his eyes when he stared at her back at the scene?
...Concern? As if.
She didn't do concern.
Whatever he did out there, and whatever happened to him, was simply because his own abilities were lacking.
With that justification, she flew through the sky toward the address.
Landing in a nearby residential alley, she walked slowly toward Hajun's apartment.
It didn't take long.
"...What is this?"
She stopped, struck by a wave of disbelief.
Hajun's apartment was far more run-down than she had ever imagined.
The doorknob was rusty, and the lock was laughably flimsy.
...Is he just that confident? No, he didn't seem like the type to live like this when we were in meetings at Pax.
A hero affiliated with Pax.
A man who had caught the attention of the largest hero corporation in America.
For someone like him, this studio apartment was far too cramped and pathetic.
"..."
Napalm couldn't understand it.
No, she didn't want to understand.
She just wanted to confront him as soon as possible and demand to know why he insisted on doing everything alone.
Whoosh.
She gathered a tiny spark of heat at her fingertips.
The moment it touched the lock—
Click.
"...Cheap piece of junk."
It gave way with pathetic ease, and she stepped inside.
But the moment she crossed the threshold, muttering to herself—
"...Ha."
Napalm froze in spite of herself.
A tiny room, a worn-out bed, moldy walls, and rusted metal furniture.
It looked as though he did nothing but sleep here; his daily necessities weren't even properly unpacked.
Looking at the scene, Napalm felt a strange sensation wash over her.
Hajun's space.
A place he would never show to anyone else.
A private sanctuary where he might have never let another soul enter.
The fact that she was the first to step inside made her feel...
...a strange tickle deep in her chest.
"...What the hell am I thinking?"
Napalm muttered under her breath.
It felt as if she had peeked at someone's weakness, their hidden shame.
By all accounts, she should have felt disgusted.
After all, this was "Jun."
The arrogant bastard who had triggered her neuralgia to beat her, and who pointed out her weaknesses as he pleased.
So why did she feel a strange sense of exhilaration rather than irritation?
Napalm hated that feeling.
"Hup!"
She threw herself onto the worn-out sofa.
Crossing her legs and folding her arms, she waited for the door to open.
The moment he walked in, she would lay into him.
Why did he go off on his own? Why did he leave her out again?
What was the deal with the drone, what did he know... and how did he analyze her so perfectly?
Just as those thoughts swirled in her head—
Creak.
The door opened.
"Where on earth have you been? Why are you so la—!"
She started to yell at him, but—
"..."
The words died in her throat.
"How did you find this place?"
Dried blood smeared beneath his nose.
A thigh wrapped in bandages.
And a wrist that trembled slightly as he gripped the black case.
He was practically dragging one leg as he limped inside.
"...What did you do to yourself?"
Napalm slowly stood up.
The strange excitement that had been pounding in her chest just moments ago vanished instantly.
In its place was a cold dread that something was terribly wrong.
"I, I..."
Her voice wouldn't work properly.
"What... what happened..."
She couldn't even form a coherent sentence.
Yet, unlike her, Hajun maintained his usual calm expression, as if injuries of this caliber were nothing.
"Sigh... I see. You must have looked up the information registered with Pax. Figures. There's no way they wouldn't have put it in the database."
He simply answered with a sigh.
His attitude only made her angrier.
Why wouldn't he say anything?
Why was he so quick to exploit her weaknesses, yet so desperate to hide his own?
What was he so afraid of that drove him to face everything alone?
Countless questions flashed through her mind.
But there was one thing that infuriated her above all else.
"Who did this to you?"
Who dared to lay a finger on him?
That thought... was crossing a line she could not tolerate.