The Decisive Battle: Rahe, Captain of the 7th Division (2)
"Shit. We're really fucked."
As a civilized person, he wanted to avoid swearing and use refined language, but the situation was so catastrophically bad that curses slipped out anyway.
'How did she find out? What went wrong?'
'Did the brainwashing fail? Was everything an act this whole time? How much of it was fake...?'
Honestly, he was panicking.
Everything had gone so smoothly until now. He'd thought they were almost done, that one final push would seal it all.
Maybe targeting the captain had been too much. Had he underestimated a Captain-class hero like Rahe?
What now? Could he still carry out the Villain Alliance's orders? Was the organization finished because of this?
More importantly, what about Rahe? She said she'd hunt him to the ends of hell, and he believed she would.
Should he grab Dorothy and the boss and flee overseas? If so, he needed to pack fast and find a broker for the escape...
"Calm down, No. 13."
After receiving Rahe's call, he'd rushed to Staff's room in a panic. Now Staff gently cupped his cheeks with both hands, her expression serene like a benevolent saint as she tried to soothe him.
"We don't know the full details yet, do we? The fact that she used a recording to send the message suggests that what we've done so far wasn't completely ineffective."
"Y-you think so...?"
"Yes. And the way she delivered the message is suspicious. I can't be certain since I didn't hear it myself, but it feels like she's the one who's desperate."
Hearing Staff's calm voice helped No. 13 regain his composure quickly.
She was right. The sudden situation and the two-hour deadline had frozen his mind with tension, but now that he'd calmed down, the inconsistencies were obvious.
Staff's words made sense. Even if she was just trying to reassure him, they weren't baseless.
The board hadn't been completely flipped yet.
Maybe there was still a chance.
"No. 13. Let's go over the cards we still hold. There has to be some way forward."
At Staff's steady words, No. 13 nodded, his composure returning.
From the moment he'd decided to target Rahe, he'd known this kind of outcome was possible. He'd had a vague sense of the risk.
If he'd done nothing, both the organization and his own future would have been hopeless anyway. He'd been clinging to a single, frayed thread this whole time, barely keeping himself alive.
It was nothing short of a bargain sale of divine mercy, grace, and luck that had kept him breathing.
Since his life had been extended on the cheap, even if he lost it now because of this... he could at least tell himself it was inevitable.
......Like hell he could.
He didn't want to die. He wanted to live. Desperately.
First, he needed to call Dorothy and find the boss. Get their opinions, at least...
* * *
Tick. Tock—
Rahe sat checking the watch on her wrist.
She was in the same abandoned factory where No. 13 had once promised to release Club.
She'd arrived nearly an hour ago and dragged a chair to a spot where anyone entering would spot her immediately.
She checked the watch again. The time she'd specified was almost here.
A few minutes of leeway was acceptable, but if he was too late, she'd give up and leave.
Logically speaking, there was no reason for that man to accept her proposal.
All she could offer was a baseless threat that she'd find and kill him someday. Even if Apple and Club's fates were uncertain, a villain like No. 13 had no reason to care about the well-being of heroes.
Yet if he did show up... it would mean he still had some business with her or the 7th Division.
And if that was the case, then there was still room for negotiation on her end as well.
Tick. Tock. Tick—
'He really isn't coming, is he...?'
Just as Rahe began to resign herself while staring at her watch, footsteps echoed from the factory entrance.
"Rahe! I'm here! Villain No. 13 has arrived! Are you in there?!"
A loud voice announcing his presence. She'd never heard it before, yet it stirred a strangely nostalgic feeling. Probably just her imagination...
* * *
No. 13 arrived at the abandoned factory just barely after the designated time.
He'd shouted loudly on purpose to announce himself and guard against any ambush, but surprisingly, none came.
If things went south, he'd planned to use the "kill and resurrect" combo to create an opening and shout the brainwashing keyword...
—It's best not to overuse the brainwashing keywords if possible.
—Based on our experiments so far, vocal brainwashing keywords only work if you're within three meters of the target. Eye contact helps too.
—If you're using a phone or speaker, the distance needs to be even shorter. Roughly fifty centimeters or less.
—If the target is on guard, the chances drop further. Rahe hasn't even completed the advanced process yet, has she? Trying to brainwash her head-on is probably impossible. At best, it's a coin flip... and if you fail, she'll tear you apart on the spot.
Before coming here, the Abyss members had gathered for a quick discussion.
Dorothy had given No. 13 several pieces of practical advice based on all the experiments he'd conducted using the 7th Division members.
Her advice was useful and grounded in real data, but the more he heard, the more it depressed him.
Everything carried too much risk and uncertainty. If he valued his life, he should just give up—it felt like she was hinting at exactly that.
Not just hinting. Dorothy had said it outright. For someone as stupid and unlucky as him, it was impossible, so he should just run away.
—It's not entirely your fault. There were probably issues with the brainwashing drug I developed.
—I might have been able to create something better suited to her constitution. A more convenient brainwashing tool, too. Maybe there was just a flaw in my formula. It was still a prototype, after all.
—So don't think this was all your mistake. I never expected much from you anyway, you idiot.
Her words were prickly, but he knew that was the best she could manage when it came to showing concern.
She was always so sharp-tongued, yet she still looked out for him in her own way. A real tsundere.
As No. 13 walked deeper into the factory, lost in thought while repeatedly calling Rahe's name, he spotted her beyond an open doorway.
Rahe sat facing the entrance, waiting for him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"So you actually came, Villain No. 13."
"...Well, the beautiful captain invited me on a date. How could I refuse?"
No. 13 glanced around suspiciously.
"What about Apple? She knows, doesn't she? Where is she?"
"I restrained her and left her in the car. I couldn't leave her at the base. It's parked a short distance from the factory, so don't forget to take her with you if things go wrong."
"Even so, she's a precious subordinate. Aren't you being too cold?"
"...Says the man who brainwashed her."
Rahe's gaze carried a hint of killing intent. No. 13 awkwardly looked away, feeling uncomfortable.
Rahe stood up and gestured toward him.
She pointed to another chair across from the one she'd been sitting in. Beside it sat a whiteboard.
"Come here. And from now on, be careful with everything you say, every gesture, every glance. If I sense anything suspicious, I'll attack without hesitation."
"Hey, you called me here and now you're—"
He'd been about to complain, but his mouth snapped shut.
Rahe's hand twitched, and something razor-sharp sliced across No. 13's neck from several meters away.
A moment later, he felt something hot trickling down. When he touched it, his fingers came away red with blood. It wasn't a fatal wound, but if it had gone any deeper, he'd have collapsed in a fountain of gore.
"Shut your mouth and sit."
Rahe growled expressionlessly.
No. 13 tensed and obeyed without argument. He had no choice.
Once he was seated, Rahe gave another order. She told him to pick up the whiteboard at his feet. Following her instructions, he grabbed the portable mini whiteboard.
"From now on, communicate through writing. This is standard procedure when dealing with mind-control ability users, so try not to complain."
He wanted to complain, but he decided to keep his mouth shut. Next time, she really might cut his head off.
