7th Squad C-Rank Hero Club (4)
Villain No. 13's trump card. It was the chain anchor he'd pulled out of thin air just moments ago—a fragment of the ability granted to him by his constellation.
His ability hadn't truly returned, nor had his mana. No matter how much he called out or prayed in his mind, the constellation remained silent as ever, offering no response. There was no mana flowing from it either.
Yet he'd been able to use that ability thanks to Spade. After having sex with her previously, a portion of her mana had trickled into him.
I have no idea why. As far as he knew, he was the only man who'd Awakened, so there were no precedents. Likewise, he'd never slept with another Awakener before. That time with Spade had been his first. He'd need more research to pinpoint the exact reason, but in any case...
That tiny amount of mana from Spade had let him barely scrape by with a sliver of his original power. But even that was minuscule, and he'd already burned through nearly all of it just now. Back to being the powerless Villain No. 13...
Pathetic.
Hah... hah... hah...!
"N-No. 13... W-Wai—hngh... hngh...!"
"Dorothy, I told you to get some exercise."
"Ugh... uuuugh~~~~~...!"
She wasn't even climbing stairs—just running down them—and yet Dorothy was staggering like she might collapse any second. Somehow managing to support and drag her along, the two finally reached the underground parking garage, evading the heroes.
This massive shopping mall's garage spanned five floors underground alone. Even if they realized the pair had fled here, pinpointing their exact spot wouldn't be immediate. This bought them at least a little time.
"Huff... haa... So, what now?"
"What now? Contact the Advisor first, obviously."
"That's all we can do. Hang on a sec."
No. 13's smartphone had been dropped during Club's initial sniper shot. It held some sensitive Abyss data, but that could wait. Escaping this mess came first. Once they reached the Advisor, they could make a run for it... or so he thought.
But when Dorothy pulled out the phone from her pocket, she frowned like something was wrong. She held it out to him, and sure enough, the screen was pitch black with a spiderweb of cracks right in the center. Pressing the power button yielded nothing but shattered nonsense.
"Must've taken a hit through my clothes without noticing. Or maybe bumped it during the landing."
"We're screwed."
"I was only planning to grab dessert and bounce, so I didn't bring much else..."
"Come on, you're a villain. At least carry some self-defense gear. Without your tools, you're just a cute, smart regular girl."
"You can crack jokes like that right now? Same as before—you got some disease that kills you if you get serious?"
Dorothy sighed, rummaging through her pockets before slightly lifting her skirt. Just shy of flashing her panties, a belt held a small pistol. Better than nothing, but taking on a hero with one gun? Impossible. Each one was like a tank.
"Only weapon I've got is this, a flashbang... and a basic hacking tool."
"What can the hacking tool even do?"
"Steal a car."
"...Alright, savage. Let's do it."
"You even have a license?"
"What does a villain need a license for?"
"......"
"...I know how to shift gears. And turn the wheel."
When he dodged the question about accelerator and brakes, Dorothy looked skeptical.
"Fine, whatever. Joke's on me. I can drive. Got a license too. It's just been gathering dust."
Even with his excuses, Dorothy's expression stayed dubious. Still, she tossed him the pistol like it was trash and started scouting cars she could hack.
They'd made it to the garage, but if the heroes reacted fast and sealed off the mall, there'd be no escape. What they needed now was speed—steal a car and get out ASAP.
"Whoa... this thing's impressive! Guess that's what you get with a luxury import. No wonder people shell out for these."
Dorothy's hack took mere minutes, and she'd commandeered a sleek foreign luxury car. Sliding into the plush interior, the high-end feel was immediately obvious. Sorry to the owner, but tough luck—villain tax.
"What're you doing? Punch it!"
"Yeah, yeah. You buckle up tight."
He fiddled with the gearshift, spun the wheel to get a feel. Thanks to Dorothy's hack, it started without a key. Okay... this is the brake... so this must be the gas...
"Alright, here we go!"
"This feels ominous..."
Ignoring Dorothy's nerves, No. 13 gripped the wheel confidently and slammed the accelerator.
Vrooooom!
True to its pedigree, the luxury import accelerated smoothly despite his reckless foot, gliding forward effortlessly.
"Uh............?"
"Hey, hey, hey, No. 13iiiii?!"
Screeeeech!!
BOOM!!
It barreled straight into a pillar ahead, smashing hard.
The hood crumpled, airbags exploding on impact. The two grunted and wriggled free. The wreck was totaled; No. 13 silently sent condolences to its unknown owner.
"Cut it out, No. 13!!! You said you could drive!!!"
"It'd been forever, okay? Plus, I got hyped 'cause it's a fancy ride... Ugh, one more try and I'll nail it! I swear, I got it now! Promise!"
"No next time, you idiot!!!!"
Dorothy pounded the wrecked door in a frenzy. Sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.
"Forget the car! Let's just run!"
"With your potato stamina?"
"Better than dying in a crash from your driving by a hundredfold!"
"Fine, fine. But give me one more shot. Come on? Life's best of three. I think I got the hang of it now."
"You can try as much as you want, but we've only got one life."
They'd wasted too much time already. Wrecking the car half to hell, but being on the lowest level meant no one had shown up—no scene yet. Lucky.
...Is it starting to smoke? Gonna blow?
Edging back uneasily, a sound caught his ear at his feet.
Nyaaao~
"...A cat?"
A sleek black cat stared up intelligently, ears perked. Its wide eyes fixed on the smoking, flaming luxury wreck looked adorable.
Why's a cat in a garage? Cars everywhere—dangerous.
"No. 13, what're you doing? We need an escape plan. Can't run, so find another car. No screw-ups this time!"
Dorothy urged him on. The cat tugged at him, but no time to care—he ignored it. Nothing to give anyway; it just sat quietly, gazing up.
"Yeah... maybe we should just bail without a car?"
"Huh?"
"Heroes might think we've already split by now. ...Hide somewhere, blend into the crowds."
"...Smart. Yeah, safer that way."
And if push came to shove, he could split from Dorothy, send her ahead solo. She wasn't wanted; only Club knew her face. Club couldn't check every face in the mall alone. Even if sealed, Dorothy could slip through surveillance.
They'd been caught on camera coming down, so heroes would assume they'd stolen a car and fled. Perfect misdirection.
"Then, first—"
Time was ticking. Dodge cameras, head back up to the crowded upper floors. As he mulled next steps with Dorothy—
Her eyes flew wide.
"No. 13!"
Whiiiish—!
Her shout and the familiar whoosh hit simultaneously. A silver bullet hurtled in—the same deadly speed as a real gunshot.
Splat!
Next instant, No. 13 took it square to the temple. With a pained groan, he crumpled limply.
Step... step... step...
"Oh ho, you didn't ditch your buddy and run solo? Villains have loyalty after all?"
The mall's lowest underground garage. No. 13's wrecked handiwork still smoldered nearby. The pursuing hero approached the fallen No. 13 and Dorothy cradling him, footsteps echoing.
7th Squad's C-rank hero, Club. She'd spotted them earlier, intercepted, but let them slip to No. 13's base. Undeterred, she'd chased and caught up now.
Near Dorothy—hugging the collapsed No. 13—the black cat from before mewled curiously.
"...Hero."
"That attitude screams villain. Not some random civilian caught in the crossfire, right? Be honest—makes it messy if you're normal. Just admit you're a villain."
Don't bullshit me. Dorothy ground her teeth at Club's nonchalant tone. Club clearly didn't care if she was civilian or villain.
The initial sniper shot, the recent coin bullet—all aimed at Dorothy alone.
The downed No. 13 had just shielded her, taking a blind shot meant for Dorothy in his dead angle.
Club probably didn't care either way—saw Dorothy as a hostage No. 13 would protect, targeted her deliberately.
And it worked: No. 13, who could've dodged solo, got hit shielding her. From a villain's view, it was viciously cunning.
"You filthy bitch...!"
Dorothy snarled through gritted teeth. Meeting her murderous glare, Club grinned wider, delighted.
