The Burning Flame
Napalm had been to countless battlefields throughout her life.
Of course, because she had overwhelmingly incinerated or subdued most of her enemies, she had rarely stood on the precipice of life and death herself.
Even so, those battlefields had given her more than enough experience to recognize what kinds of injuries people commonly suffered.
She had learned to judge whether a person would live or die based on the severity of their wounds.
And the sight of Hajun reflected in her eyes right now...
...He's practically a walking corpse.
He was as good as half-dead.
Blood seeped through the bandages wrapped around his thigh.
His hands trembled, and he dragged his limping leg as he walked.
He was even bleeding from his nose, his complexion deathly pale.
...He overused his abilities in the explosion. He's strained his joints and muscles to their absolute limits, too.
She absolutely hated it.
He had fought in a place where she wasn't, a place she knew nothing about.
And he had returned to his home practically broken...
To this incredibly shabby apartment where it wouldn't even be surprising if someone ambushed him this very second.
He clearly seemed to know the person who had been controlling those drones.
Seeing him in this state afterward meant he had undoubtedly fought that person.
What if she had gone with him?
What if he had her firepower?
The thought crossed her mind that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have ended up in such a pathetic state.
...No, wait. That bastard didn't take me with him in the first place.
Soon, that thought began to drift in a slightly different direction.
Why didn't he take me?
Did he think I'd get in the way?
From doubt to humiliation.
He excluded me, and then he comes back all beaten up without me?
From humiliation to rage.
Everything about Hajun's current state grated on her pride.
But what angered her more than anything else was...
"This is my house, so get out. Don't go burning my things for no reason."
...that nonchalant attitude of his.
He was the one who had pointed out that her own body was falling apart.
So how could he act so completely fine after returning with his entire body in tatters?
On top of that...
"...What happened to you?"
"You already know the answer. It was that bastard from earlier, the Director."
"You knew you'd end up like this, didn't you?"
"Yeah."
"Then why? Why didn't you take me—or at the very least, why didn't you take Great America? Do you have a hole in your brain or something?"
"Because you guys... wouldn't be able to handle it."
He was implicitly looking down on her.
Sparks of flame naturally began to gather in her hair.
She was an undeniably powerful hero.
No matter how outstanding Great America and Hajun were, for now, she was still one of America's top-tier heroes.
And yet, he claimed she couldn't handle it?
It angered her to the point of being unbearable.
...But the sudden realization that his words might actually be true made her even crazier.
And that was what drove her truly mad.
"Can't handle it?"
So, she didn't hold back.
She wanted to unleash her rage and correct Hajun's thinking.
In an instant, the temperature inside the room skyrocketed.
The mold on the walls withered under the heat.
The dust on the window frame began to give off a faint burning smell.
But the moment her gaze landed on Hajun's thigh...
"Yeah. I don't think you could handle it."
"..."
The flames failed to grow any larger.
"Just looking at how you snuck into my house and started throwing this tantrum... is proof enough that you should never face the Director."
"...!"
Napalm clenched her teeth.
Because his words felt right.
"He knows exactly how to exploit people like you and Great America. He'll provoke you, play with your pride, and ultimately lead you to your ruin."
...She forced her hands into tight fists.
The sparks sputtered and died out.
Her hair, which had risen with the heat, gradually settled back down.
"That's why I went. Not you, and not Great America. Me."
"...And that's why you got yourself trashed like that instead?"
"It was the most efficient choice."
"Don't talk like that. It makes me want to kill you."
Inferiority.
The massive driving force that had allowed her to rise to the rank of a top hero.
But at this very moment, that inferiority felt like a blade gouging out her own chest.
"You're the exact same," Napalm said in a low voice.
"What?"
"You go on and on about the feeling in my fingertips disappearing, or my body breaking down."
Her gaze drifted down to Hajun's thigh.
"But what about you?"
"..."
"Do you look fine to you right now?"
"Sorry, but Korean heroes have a faster average recovery rate. If I just keep these bandages on—"
"—Does that mean it doesn't hurt, you absolute idiot?!"
"..."
"I know I'm a crazy bitch, okay? But you're even crazier than I am."
"So what do you want me to do about it?"
"So, from now on, I'm going to do exactly what you did."
"...What?"
"You meddled in my business, talking about my fingertips and my nerves. Didn't you?"
"That was because you could have died—"
"—Exactly. You said it yourself."
She glared at Hajun's thigh.
"You could have died, too."
"..."
Hajun fell silent for a moment, as if caught off guard.
Napalm found that strangely satisfying.
It felt like she had exposed a chink in his armor for the very first time.
He really is a bizarre bastard.
The more Napalm looked at Hajun, the more she realized how dangerous he was.
Was it because his power or personality was as fucked up as Great America's? Obviously not.
Was it because he couldn't control his anger and caused trouble like her? Of course not.
He viewed himself as a consumable resource.
His arms, his legs, his mind—he treated all of it as mere pieces of a plan. It was an insane way of thinking.
Therefore...
"Change this house immediately. If you don't plan on moving, I'll make you move."
"...What kind of bullshit is that? I like it here—"
"—You like a place that's practically begging to be ambushed? What, are you a masochist?"
This man could not be left alone.
If left alone, he would get hurt again.
He would bleed again.
And he would return with that same blank face, claiming all the achievements for himself.
Yes, achievements.
The only reason she was doing this was because she hated having her achievements stolen as a hero.
It was absolutely not because she was worried about him.
That was why she had to watch him.
Where he went, what he did, and who he went with.
She had to see it all with her own eyes.
"Well, I've said what I wanted to say, so I'm leaving. But if you don't move soon, I will literally burn this place to the ground to force you out. Keep that in mind."
"What kind of nonsense—"
Sssss...!
"Ugh...!"
"You can't beat me in your current state. Save your complaints for when you're healed, instead of trying to argue now."
Napalm said that, slowly scanning his apartment as if inspecting it.
"..."
Then, she brushed past Hajun and walked out of the apartment.
And Hajun thought:
...Why is she acting like that?
Even in his past life, Hajun had known that Napalm was not normal.
An intense inferiority complex and an excessive desire to climb the ranks.
Those traits had propelled her to the top, but they had also led to her death.
In that sense, Napalm's behavior just now was definitely far from normal.
Yet, it was understandable.
The reason she had come was, ultimately, her inferiority complex.
It's probably an extension of her wondering why I didn't take her along.
She must have come to confront him about being excluded from the filming site.
But why was she suddenly forcing him to move?
"...Sigh."
To begin with, Napalm and he hadn't been close in his past life either.
They were just coworkers who occasionally ran into each other.
So he couldn't quite comprehend why she was acting this way now.
However...
One thing she said is true.
This house was no longer safe.
Those crazy bastards at Pax Corporation had eventually found the location of this house and registered it.
Setting aside the flimsy locks, the location was also quite isolated.
It was vulnerable to break-ins and structured in a way that made it easy to get cornered.
For now, it was fine, but if the Director set his mind to it...
This place would be the perfect trap to catch him.
I need to relocate.
In other words, as much as he hated to admit it, Napalm was right on that front.
And it wasn't just a matter of finding a new place.
The Director had seen his reaction and claimed to have seen his "potential."
Though he didn't know when it would happen, given the Director's personality, it was only a matter of time before the villain stretched his claws toward him again.
I should dig into Pax's internal network. And I need to predict the Director's next moves.
Checking Pax's internal network and recalling the history of incidents and accidents from his past life to make predictions—that was his biggest task.
"...Sigh."
After a light stretch, he laid his heavy body down on the bed.
It had been an exhausting day in many ways.
Hoping that no incidents would occur in the city while he slept, he slowly drifted off to sleep.
Yet, even after he fell asleep, a single gaze watching the old studio apartment never wavered.
On the rooftop of the building opposite his.
Napalm stood with her arms crossed, staring down at the darkened window.
"...It really is the perfect place to get ambushed."
She needed to go back.
Watching someone else's house for no reason was, no matter how she looked at it, completely insane.
And yet, she couldn't tear her eyes away.
Strangely, she never wanted to see him go off somewhere again, bleed again, and return with that same indifferent face.
"It's just performance management," Napalm muttered quietly.
"Yeah. Just managing my performance."
A tiny flame flickering at her fingertips swayed in the night breeze.
And that night, on the rooftop opposite Hajun's shabby studio apartment, a single flame refused to die out until the break of dawn.