Prologue: The Fall of Villain No. 13
Villain No. 13 was the strongest and worst villain, the object of terror for everyone living in S City. People said he was a heartless, ruthless brute of a villain. People said his scummy personality made him the ultimate villain. People said he was the incarnation of the devil. People said he embodied the very charisma of villainy.
Though about half of those assessments needed qualifiers like "self-proclaimed" or "supposedly," he was still undeniably a promising villain drawing intense scrutiny from some heroes as an ultra-high-risk target.
To reiterate, he was a trash villain who more than lived up to the title of "the worst." He spread fear among countless people, the very embodiment of terror.
It was he who recently tampered with the subway timetable, sowing chaos across the lines and causing massive traffic mayhem. It was he who shoved over someone squatting to take a dump and snatched their toilet paper. It was he who recommended a water cooler to someone pouring hot water into cup ramen—only for it to dispense lukewarm sludge. It was he who snuck into stores and swapped around every pair of Bluetooth earbuds. All of it, the handiwork of Villain No. 13!
Unbelievable! The worst! Trash! Devil!
His ruthless, devilish antics never let up day after day, leaving every citizen of S City quaking in fear of his existence.
Villain No. 13 reveled leisurely in their terror, exuding the dignified air of a villain at ease.
Today, too, he was gleefully indulging in his villainous life with a brutal act of terrorism befitting his station.
――Unaware that on this very day, he would plummet to rock bottom.
"You vile fiend! Villain No. 13! This time, you're not getting away! I'll rip you limb from limb and toss you into the East Sea!"
In the heart of a certain bank in S City, Korea's capital—the epicenter of currency circulation—Villain No. 13 was brazenly grilling pork belly on a hot plate with his minions. He turned with a mocking sneer at the hero who had burst in vowing to capture him. In his hand was a perfectly wrapped lettuce leaf stuffed with meat.
"That's no good, hero. Dumping trash in the ocean? Not very heroic."
For a villain, he at least seemed self-aware enough to know he was trash.
Spade, an A-rank hero from Squad 7 under the Hero Association—the ones handling S City. With her striking red hair, impressive bust, and alluring thighs peeking from under her hero uniform skirt, she stood before him. No. 13 chewed and swallowed his lettuce wrap with leisurely gusto.
"......Stop stuffing your face already!"
"No way!!"
"Arrrrrgh~~~~~~~!!!"
He flatly refused and shamelessly crammed another wrap into his mouth. Watching this, Spade gnashed her teeth and stomped the floor in fury. Each stomp cracked the bank's marble tiles with fissures.
...Dumb brute of a gorilla woman.
A chill ran down his spine for a moment, but No. 13 feigned composure, sizing Spade up from head to toe.
Outwardly, Spade looked like an utterly ordinary, average woman. If anything special, perhaps her beauty. Her long limbs looked healthy enough, but not in a gorilla-muscled way—just healthily toned. Her frame even seemed delicate, like she couldn't beat an average adult male.
But one couldn't judge an Awakener—chosen by a Constellation—by appearances alone. Even if she looked harmless, the sheer monstrous strength to shatter marble just by stomping proved otherwise.
Awakeners. For reasons unknown, they began appearing in the world one day—chosen by Constellations. Granted access to mana and special knowledge ordinary humans could never touch, they wielded superhuman abilities and magic beyond mortal dreams.
Spade was one such Awakener. Her A-rank status alone marked her as no pushover—she was a monster not to be underestimated.
Countless villains had been reduced to bloody, mangled rags by those hands. The tale of her single-handedly dismantling a villain organization right after turning adult was infamous even among villains.
Any villain worth their salt should fear her. That was the hero called Spade.
――Yet.
――Even faced with such a monster, No. 13 showed no hint of fear.
He'd clashed with this hero several times before.
And not once had he ever lost to her.
No, No. 13 had never tasted defeat, period. Not since being chosen by the strongest Constellation and becoming a rare male Awakener—a privilege typically reserved for women.
No. 13 alone truly deserved the title of "strongest, worst villain."
"Come at me, hero. Put your money where your mouth is. Though it'll end the same as last time."
"You......!"
Spade flushed crimson, recalling her past humiliation—ambushing No. 13 only to get counterattacked and left in mortifying shame, too embarrassed to even lift her head. Shame burned in her chest, fueling rage and hatred toward No. 13 that pierced the heavens.
"Time to give up already. No matter what you do now, you can't touch me. Pathetic weakling."
"Shut your mouth! So I should just let a villain run free?!"
"If you know you can't win, yeah."
Jeers erupted from No. 13's minions behind him. They all knew this hero stood no chance.
Were all heroes this stubborn? Or was Spade special? Didn't she know the word "quit"? Or was it "superiority" she didn't grasp? If she had any brains, she'd give up already.
"Fine. Keep staring and I might actually start feeling sorry for you. This time, I'll beat the pity right out of you."
"Who'd feel pity for......!"
"Yeah, yeah. Bring it."
No. 13 remained utterly relaxed, as if daring her to try anytime.
His attitude lit a fire in Spade's eyes.
"Die! No. 13iiiiii!!"
Red mana gathered in her fist as she rocketed forward like a bullet.
No. 13 watched her approach, still at ease. No big deal. He'd subdue her casually, as always.
................Huh?
――He realized it when Spade's fist was already inches from his face.
His plan had been to let it close in perilously close, snatch it lightly, then slam a heavy counter into her unguarded body—right in the solar plexus for an instant knockout.
But he couldn't.
Not because she was a woman. Not from fear.
Purely, simply—he couldn't do a thing.
No power at all.
The mana that always filled his body, reliably backing him up, was completely gone.
Eh...? What......?
――Ah. Can you hear me? Hear me okay?
.............?
Huh? Did I just... hear a voice...?
Ah, you can hear me. Good.
Hello, my friend. Nice to meet you. First time chatting like this.
Not an illusion. A voice rang clear—not through his ears, but directly in his brain, a bizarre new sensation.
His vision swam from agony like his whole body was crushed, but the voice in his head prattled on, oblivious to his plight.
My friend, I am the Constellation who chose you and granted you power. Feel free to weep in worship. I permit it.
I love fun things, my friend. I chose you because it seemed like it'd be amusing.
I've always watched with satisfaction. Yes. Your antics were always so entertaining, so delightful.
But lately... mannerism, perhaps? Less fun than before.
To put it bluntly, boring. Or rather, stale.
So I pondered what to do, and a great idea struck.
Yes.
I thought, time to up the difficulty.
And so, my friend, from now on, I will no longer supply you with mana.
Doesn't this sound a bit more fun? I'll watch to the end to see how you survive from here.
That's all. Talk again sometime if there's a chance.
With a casual "bye-bye," the voice cut off. That was it.
No chance even to protest.
Thus, Villain No. 13 lost all his power and plummeted into ruin.
BOOOOMMMMM!!!
WHAM! THUD! CRASHCRASHCRASH!!
"““No. 13?!”””
No. 13's body flew like trash from Spade's single punch, toppling chairs and sofas in the bank corner as he tumbled across the floor.
"Ah... ugh... wha......"
It hurt. Hurt so bad. For real. Like he was dying.
No, more than that—what the hell just happened? Why no mana at all? Why couldn't he muster any power like usual...?
