7th Squad C-Rank Hero Club (2)
"By the way," Dorothy continued as she sliced off a piece of rice cake topped with ice cream. "When's the next operation starting? Or have you given up on targeting more heroes altogether?"
It had been over two weeks since they'd brainwashed the hero Spade, but neither Villain No. 13 nor the Advisor showed any signs of moving on to the next step. The villain organization Abyss surely had regular meetings and shared reports, but Dorothy, who only cared about her research, often skipped them or barely skimmed the parts that interested her.
She was the one who'd made and handed over the brainwashing drug, after all. Her job ended there—deliver it, observe the results, and refine it. Nothing more was needed.
"Can't give up. ...But the Villain Union's reaction has been kinda weird, don't you think...?"
Villain No. 13 had attended the recent meeting alongside the boss, Violet. It was meaningless, really—just as her escort and attendant. They'd managed to avoid expulsion from the organization by acknowledging his connection to Spade, a key member of the 7th Squad... but something about it felt off. Like... what even was that? ...Nah.
No point dwelling on it now. Other thoughts wouldn't change anything.
"Next target is still Club from the 7th Squad, operation in three days."
After weighing all the factors, that was the optimal timing. The biggest one: four days from now, the 7th Squad's captain would head to headquarters for a captain's meeting, and the other members would be away on dispatch or leave. Perfect conditions for hunting Club.
"...I get that I said something before, but do we really need to drag that woman into this? Taking on extra risk and all?"
He gave a brief rundown of the plan, and Dorothy popped the sliced ice cream rice cake into her mouth as she spoke. She was a bit skeptical about this operation. No. 13's overconfident pitch made her uneasy.
"The brainwashed heroes we have are Spade and... Apple, the one I captured. Honestly, aren't those two enough? Sure, more hero samples would be great for research on my end."
To keep leeching off the Villain Union, they needed to show consistent results—something useful to the alliance. But did those results have to be taking down heroes? Couldn't they just manipulate the two brainwashed women to steal classified intel or something? Plenty of practical options like that.
"Fair point, but..."
No. 13 scooped up the last chunk of ice cream from the pretty glass bowl and slurped it down. The spoon clinked crisply as he set it down.
"The Advisor suggested it."
The Advisor was a genius. A different kind from Dorothy. At least when it came to strategy, she'd never been wrong—as far as No. 13 knew. If she said it, it had to be right. He wasn't abandoning his own thinking, just trusting her. She must have considered every possibility and deemed this optimal.
"...No clue. You and the Advisor are way outside my thought process. Even back when she was a guy, watching you two sneak around, I thought you were hopeless weirdos I could never understand."
"What do you mean 'sneak around'? Sounds creepy."
"What? Last time I saw you two coming out of a room together in the morning, I figured someone finally got their ass reamed."
"That was just gaming... Why are you thinking so dirty now?!"
"That's how bad you two looked. Back when we had more members, everyone was whispering about you guys—whisper whisper whisper..."
"Red pill stop...! I don't wanna hear that...!"
For some reason, whenever he was with the Advisor, the female members would gossip unusually intensely. Info he really didn't want to know...
"Anyway, that's the plan. Prepping for contingencies by controlling as many heroes as possible."
No. 13 hastily wrapped up the conversation to escape the gruesome topic.
'And honestly, the Villain Union feels kinda... suspicious too?'
It had been ages since No. 13, who'd wandered off after losing his powers, attended a meeting. The atmosphere felt different somehow—suspicious, even. Sure, he was useless now, but they still had capable people like boss Violet and the Advisor, plus the Union relied on Dorothy's inventions. So why bring up expulsion so casually? Fishy.
Maybe just paranoia. Anyway, that explanation seemed to satisfy Dorothy well enough.
"Hmm... Prepping for contingencies..." She nodded.
"And there's one more reason. The biggest one."
"What's that?"
No. 13 tapped the now-empty ice cream bowl, narrowing his eyes. A faint heat simmered there—something like rage.
"She's the bitch who left my subordinate in ruins. Gotta pay her back proper."
"...Touching camaraderie. Really brings a tear."
Dorothy sighed pityingly and popped another piece of rice cake into her mouth.
Club was a C-rank hero, a rookie who hadn't even been one for a full year yet. Factor in that she was just barely twenty, and C-rank was impressively high. A meteoric rise.
Her record spoke for itself: multiple busts of villains colluding with overseas groups while holed up on islands. But above all, her ruthless personality—no pity for villains whatsoever. Ruthless to the point of sadism, they'd heard.
And she was the one who'd captured the Advisor, who had no choice but to lead her last remaining subordinates into battle, then shattered every bone in her body.
Not to subdue her.
To lure out the subordinates who'd scattered or gone into hiding, sacrificing herself for their escape.
While they hid, Club twisted and stabbed and smashed the Advisor's raised body like she was playing an instrument, drawing out agonized screams. In the end, unable to bear it, the subordinates revealed themselves one by one and surrendered.
...Hearing that story, even laid-back No. 13 had gotten pissed. He had to give that woman a proper thrashing.
"...Yeah. Can't forgive her."
Dorothy had heard it too and nodded right away in agreement. Deep camaraderie ran through her veins too—she felt a similar anger toward it.
But that same loyalty bred needless worry. In this business, guys driven by revenge or hate always ended up broken or dead...
Maybe he needed a word of caution. Dorothy opened her mouth to say something—
Then spotted whatever it was and widened her eyes behind her non-prescription disguise glasses.
"Hey, No. 13."
"Yeah? What?"
"That Club girl... what does she look like?"
"It's in the report. Didn't read it?"
No. 13 reluctantly pulled out his smartphone, tapped the screen, and opened the cloud folder. Reports and photos should all be stored there. Let's see, Club's pic... Club, Club...
"No. 13, that Club girl... she's skinny, right?"
"Huh? Yeah. Skinny, kinda short."
And flat-chested too! He almost joked, but Dorothy just stiffly raised both hands above her head.
She wiggled her fingers like bunny ears.
"...Wearing a ribbon like this on her head? Bright red, visible from afar?"
"Yup. That's it. What, you know her?"
"Oh... right..."
No need to show the photo, then... Or so he thought. But Dorothy's vibe felt off.
Wondering what was up, he followed her gaze and turned.
"...Isn't that her?"
At the counter by the entrance of their dessert shop stood exactly the person Dorothy described—a woman with a flashy ribbon perked up on her head, pondering the menu.
'Truly a shop worthy of Spade's recommendation.'
Club, who'd just arrived at the place Spade suggested, felt deeply satisfied by the classy interior and the menu list—pictures so tantalizing they seemed to infuse sweetness straight into her brain.
Ah, really. For Club, who'd survived on rice cakes and corner-store ice bars during her island days, mainland desserts felt like dreams and fantasies molded together.
Too bad there was no one to invite; she ended up coming alone...
'Apple seemed like she'd have time, but we're not close enough yet...'
She seemed nice enough, but something instinctively put Club off from getting friendly. Why? Island life in tight-knit spots hadn't prepared her for city girls. Or maybe some gut-level rejection... Hmm.
'Whatever, not now. Time to eat. Devour sweets solo!'
'Bounty money means my wallet's fat—no worries there...'
With cash to burn, why not? She scanned the menu top to bottom—''I'll take one of everything!'' Sounded perfect. Excitement bubbled up, tongue tingling in anticipation...!
'...Most are ice cream-based, though. Gotta eat fast or they melt.'
Regrettable, but she'd have to pick wisely. What to choose to avoid regrets? What makes the best pick? Should bring some back for Spade and the others... What would they like?
As Club pondered with a groan, someone slipped past her slyly.
A generic couple, it seemed, finishing their desserts and heading out.
Nothing special, yet a sharp zing prickled her senses. Club's gaze snapped reflexively toward it.