007. Discipline
Seeing the real-time chat, I knew instantly. This was a major incident.
At the most basic level, I had no desire to reveal my face. A hero isn’t purely a combat role. More accurately, it’s an entertainer who also fights. The more your name spreads, the more sponsors, ads, and fanbases flock to you. In exchange, you also attract surveillance, interference, and assassins.
That was why I wanted to keep my face hidden. I planned to secure just enough recognition while directing The Paragon from behind the scenes.
But just now…
…that plan had already started to shatter.
Still, this couldn’t be viewed as an entirely bad development. There were clear pros and cons to both having recognition and lacking it. Since the situation had already spiraled this far, I decided it was best to seize the advantages that came with increased fame and put them to use.
With that settled, what I needed to do next was already decided.
The phone wouldn’t stop ringing.
I picked up the call that kept blaring and spoke immediately.
“Yes, this is Ryu Hajun.”
“...Jun. What the hell did you do to Great America?”
Vender, as expected, had grasped the situation quickly. It seemed Great America’s condition was far from normal, and the way she kept mentioning me to an abnormal degree had prompted him to call me right away. That level of perceptiveness was likely what had let him run a massive corporation like Pax so effectively until now.
“I didn’t do anything in particular. This is simply the result of you people neglecting her for twenty years.”
I kept my tone as relaxed as possible while answering him.
“...Jun, you’d better watch your words.”
“Watch my words about what?”
“It seems you’re mistaken. Pax can launch a product, but it can also bury one.”
“Aha. I see.”
“Your account, bank account, contract, visa, hero license—would you like to find out how easily all of it can vanish overnight?”
“Of course I know that very well. Which is precisely why you can’t do it right now.”
“...Why?”
“Because I have no idea how Great America would react if you tried.”
“....”
“If you don’t like it, I’ll wash my hands of the whole thing. Terminating the contract immediately is fine with me. I’m fully prepared to pay the penalty.”
“...What?”
“Of course, I have no idea what she might say on the next live broadcast… but that’s none of my concern.”
Above all, Vender had no choice but to lower his head to me right now. First, they had learned I held far greater influence over Great America than expected. Second, they realized public attention could shift toward me as well. Third, they might need to use me to control Great America efficiently.
With those three factors aligning, the situation was moving in this direction.
“...What do you want, Ryu Hajun?”
From their perspective, this response was inevitable. And I already had my demands prepared.
“At minimum, let me review Great America’s official schedule, interview scripts, and field assignments. Those three things.”
“You’re making demands like that even after the mess she caused?”
“Yes. The very fact that it turned out like this makes it even more necessary. To prevent anything like this from happening again.”
“...!”
I could hear Vender grinding his teeth, barely holding back his rage. I offered no reply and simply stayed silent.
“...For now, clean up the mess first. We’ll talk about the next steps after that.”
“A very wise decision, Mr. Vender.”
The answer had come exactly as I predicted.
“Once the interview ends, send Great America to The Paragon’s conference room. I’ll be waiting there.”
“...Understood.”
I moved immediately.
After switching public transit several times and rushing over, I arrived at The Paragon’s conference room.
“...You’re here.”
The person sitting there wasn’t Great America—it was Napalm. The woman who usually radiated arrogance, always quick to sneer and belittle others, was strangely quiet today.
…Her neck is wrapped in bandages.
Scenes like this appeared often in my memories. They were all too common for members of The Paragon.
“You… Never mind….”
Napalm started to speak in a lower voice than usual, then stopped.
She must have been grabbed right before it snapped.
The rough outline of what had happened formed clearly in my head.
And then—
Thud. Thud.
At the same time, Great America entered the conference room.
“....”
The moment she stepped inside, Napalm lowered her gaze. The scenes that had lingered in the realm of suspicion and imagination gradually solidified into certainty.
“Jun, did you watch the broadcast?”
But she—Great America—paid no attention to the heavy atmosphere. That was only natural. With her sociopathic tendencies and childlike personality defects, she had neither the room nor the inclination to care about other people’s feelings.
To her, proving her actions were right was what mattered. Being praised for her actions was what mattered. Those were her only concerns.
“I think this should be enough proof. What do you think, Jun?”
She asked me with the innocent expression of a child.
I had to choose my response carefully here. Blindly praising her would be a mistake. She would simply learn “So this is what Jun likes” and cause an even bigger disaster next time. But scolding her outright was just as dangerous—she might feel abandoned and go berserk.
Therefore—
“There were some good points.”
I decided on a neutral approach.
“...Good points?”
“You didn’t tremble in front of the camera, and you made it very clear that you are the face of The Paragon.”
“Then?”
“But casually throwing out my name was the worst move.”
“Why?”
“A symbol doesn’t reveal personal emotions. Especially not in front of the entire world.”
“....”
Great America’s face crumpled. Like a scolded child, or a child throwing a tantrum. Yet because I had acknowledged the “good points,” she didn’t explode with a violent reaction.
“So if you want to say my name during any official appearance in the future, ask for my permission first.”
“...But if I do that—”
“—Did I ever want my name coming out of your mouth?”
“...No.”
“Exactly. That’s what matters. I didn’t want it. You did it anyway. That’s the whole story.”
“...I see.”
She nodded slowly. It looked less like genuine understanding and more like she had simply memorized the words. A strange chill ran through me, but I continued.
“And even if you feel like killing someone, get my permission first. Once I decide you can judge situations properly on your own, then you can act freely.”
“...Understood, Jun.”
She nodded obediently. The compliance was so absolute it sent another shiver down my spine.
Then she looked up at me.
“Then let me ask one thing.”
“What is it?”
“If I have your permission… can I kill them?”
“....”
For a split second I was speechless. What was the right answer? But any hesitation would only erode her trust.
I quickly spoke the thoughts that came to mind.
“No. Giving permission means I have judged the situation.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means killing is the final option.”
“...Hmm.”
“Unless I issue a specific order, you only subdue the target.”
Great America still looked confused.
“So can’t you just give the order?”
“...No. The judgment to ‘subdue’ has to come from you.”
“...I see.”
She still wasn’t learning autonomy. She was simply delegating all judgment to me and following along—a classic childlike thought process.
…For now, I should stop here.
Adding any more rules or knowledge at this stage carried too much risk.
“Promise me. From now on, what are you supposed to do?”
“...Prioritize subduing. And get permission from you.”
“Good. That’s enough for today.”
With that, I ended the lesson.
Napalm, who had watched the entire exchange, couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
The unprecedented lunatic who had nearly snapped her neck—Great America—had just asked Hajun, “If I get permission, can I kill them?” And when he told her to “prioritize subduing,” the monster had quietly repeated it like a good student.
“....”
Napalm couldn’t say a word. She couldn’t even speak. The creature who had tried to crush her throat only moments ago was now waiting obediently for a single word from one man.
Obedience? No. It was too grotesque to call it that. It was closer to a dangerously twisted form of education.
“And this isn’t a rule for you alone.”
Hajun’s voice now reached Napalm as well.
“It’s a rule that applies to every member of The Paragon.”
He shifted his gaze from Great America to her.
“Don’t let your emotions dictate your actions in the field. Killing is the last resort. Never forget that subduing and rescuing come first.”
The memory of being overpowered by both of them surged back the moment she heard those words.
“Napalm.”
Hajun addressed her directly.
“...What.”
“Did you hear me?”
“......”
“Don’t put your personal venting ahead of rescuing civilians. Make sure the other two who aren’t here receive this message as well.”
Napalm wanted to push back. But with Great America glaring at her like she might kill her at any second—
“...Fine.”
—she had no choice but to nod once more.
It was humiliating. Standing in front of the very pair who had subdued her, she had been psychologically dominated again. A filthy feeling, as if her pride had been ground into the dirt.
But… Hajun wasn’t finished.
“Your hand.”
“What?”
“You’ve been clenching and unclenching your left fist this whole time.”
“......”
“The Neural Pain is acting up, isn’t it?”
Napalm’s expression froze. Not the bandage around her neck, but the tiny tremors in her fingertips. The fact that he had noticed it felt even more invasive.
“Don’t pretend you know anything.”
“I’m not pretending. I know. Don’t raise your output today. You’ll start losing sensation in your fingertips first.”
To Napalm, the words were absurd.
This man had already broken her once. He had stopped Great America as well. And now—
…Just who the hell is this guy?
—he even understood exactly how her body was ruined.