Club, the Arrogant C-Rank Prodigy (5)
Club, the C-rank hero of the 7th Squad at just 21 years old. Among heroes ranked from S to F, reaching C-rank at her age was extraordinarily rare. She had become a hero right after turning adult, with her career barely scraping past two years. It was a promotion speed that would normally be dismissed as absurd, but her missions in harsh, underdeveloped remote areas—coupled with the countless tangible contributions she'd made even in this peaceful era after the Great Catastrophe—had allowed Club to rocket up the ranks.
Her trajectory was promising, her future bright. A quick learner from childhood, she wasn't quite a genius or prodigy but talented enough to be called gifted. She'd never known true failure in life. Everything she touched bent to her will, more or less.
...That said, such an environment had forged her into someone who looked down on everyone beneath her. She was impeccably polite and deferential to those she respected. But those she didn't acknowledge—villains especially—she treated worse than trash or vermin, like bugs she could squash with a flick of her finger, scorning and belittling them with utter contempt. An arrogant, overbearing personality.
* * *
"Sniping at someone who clearly looks weak without even confirming if they're a villain... Isn't that a bit trashy for a hero's tactics?"
"Fuck... Is that something a villain should be saying?"
Club flicked a coin from her fingers with a blank expression. It spun through the air before halting abruptly mid-flight, then shot toward Dorothy.
Peeeng! A sharp whistle cut the air. The coin grazed Dorothy's cheek as it flew past.
"I won't hurt you if you don't resist. ...Though I'll have to break that guy's limbs to drag him off."
At Club's menacing words, Dorothy clutched the unconscious No. 13 tightly in her slender arms. From the looks of it, No. 13 could still use his abilities, contrary to the reports. Caution was needed—he might pull something at any moment. Even the Hero Association's tech, gathered from top talents, had no reliable way to suppress an Awakener's powers. Club hadn't brought her specialized restraints anyway, since she'd just been out for a stroll.
'Position reported. All I can do is wait for backup.'
"...How."
"Pardon?"
As Club rattled another coin in her palm, pondering her next move, Dorothy—still cradling No. 13—spoke up with wary eyes.
"How... did you know we were here?"
Dorothy's question was natural. It was too fast. Club had chased them with a slight delay, and she didn't seem to have physical enhancement abilities. Even accounting for No. 13's blunders and Dorothy's poor stamina, the time to reach this spot was impossibly short. It was almost as if she'd known they were here already—
"Do I look like the kind of idiot who shows her whole hand to the enemy?"
"......"
"And don't do anything stupid. Put that gun down."
"Kuh...!"
Clack... Having drawn Dorothy's attention with words while using No. 13's body as a shield to sneak the gun he'd handed her into view, Dorothy clicked her tongue. Club shouldn't have seen it from her angle. How had she noticed?
"Put the gun down. ...Do my words sound like bullshit to you?"
...What to do. Was her only option to try counterattacking with the gun? Her opponent was an active hero, while she didn't even know how to fire one, let alone have experience. But sitting idle like this wouldn't end well. No contact with the Advisor, No. 13 down, the boss unaware... No one was coming to save them!
"I told you to drop that gun."
Club loaded a coin in her right hand like a chambered round and aimed at Dorothy. Infused with real power, it could shred a human body in an instant—a cannon shell more than a bullet, now pointed at Dorothy's fragile frame. Of course, Club wasn't a murderer; she'd adjust to avoid killing. But villains could be killed legally. Or rather, there were no laws for them. Awakeners operated outside legal bounds, so no one would hold her accountable.
"Drop it now, or I fire. Drop the gun!"
"Kuh.........!!"
Club's eyes burned with murderous intent at Dorothy, her thumb tensing on the "trigger." One wrong move, and it was over. Absolute deadlock. Dorothy gripped the gun tightly, teeth gritted in confusion, unsure what to do.
'What... should I...!!'
Flustered and panicking, Dorothy hesitated. Then—
"Dorothy, drop the gun."
No. 13's voice reached her.
"No. 13! You okay?!"
"Yeah. ...So Dorothy, just drop the gun for now. No scary moves from that hero either. We won't do anything."
"Do I look that stupid? Disarming in front of a villain?"
"Yeah, yeah, got it. ...Dorothy, hold my hand tight. Don't let go."
No. 13 pressed even closer to Dorothy, whispering. Club's hand was still aimed their way—she'd fire the coin at any suspicious twitch. Somehow, she even spotted actions in her blind spots. Any funny business, and she'd know instantly. Yet in this do-or-die moment, No. 13 gazed up at Club with an oddly relaxed expression.
...Well, his face looked calm, but his condition was dire. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the unrelenting pain in his side and temple.
'Hurts like hell.'
Especially the side—despite bluffing to Dorothy that he was fine, a massive black bruise bloomed beneath his clothes. Honestly, he dreaded even looking later.
"...Hey, Club. Heard you got one over on the Advisor last time."
The Advisor... probably that villain she'd let slip away, the one with that title. She'd hung him up and tortured him to lure out his minions, capturing them all—but judged him too broken to move and let him escape. How he'd gotten away was a mystery. For Club, with almost no failures, it was a humiliating disgrace.
"Oh yeah, that happened. Want me to do the same to you as your underling?"
"Hmph... The Advisor was pretty much pulverized head to toe... So last time, with that coin? The one you're itching to fire right now?"
'......?'
Something off about No. 13's tone nagged at her, but she couldn't pinpoint it. Stalling for time, probably. But she was waiting for backup too.
'Might as well provoke him.'
Angry people think poorly. Partly strategy, but mostly Club's own nature—that sadistic thrill in crushing others beneath her arrogance. Lips curling in a sneer, she answered.
"Nah, I only used my ability to neutralize that Advisor guy... After that, I just hung him up and beat the shit out of him."
"Tied up a helpless villain and really went to town—full force, pounding away from every angle. Loud enough for his fleeing minions to hear every bit."
Club described it all with contempt and mockery: the tools—bat, steel pipe, nails, hammer, pliers, whatever else. The construction site had plenty of materials nearby. Where and how she'd struck, what broke, the feel of it. How he'd stifled screams until his endurance cracked, the groans that escaped. How his hidden minions couldn't stand it and charged back—only to get subdued in turn.
She spilled every graphic detail in a voice dripping with scorn. No. 13's fists clenched, veins bulging on his forehead. He wanted to roar, lunge at her, knock her down. But he lacked the strength—and that burned worse than death...!
".........A hero, huh."
He muttered through gritted teeth, but—
"So what, you filthy villain scum."
Club just countered coldly, cruelly, mercilessly—as if he was barely worth the response.
Anyway, time was up. Backup heroes and capture specialists should arrive soon. Then No. 13 was done. Interrogate—torture—them, find the hideout, wipe out the rest.
...Or so she thought.
"We won't let go, no matter what."
No. 13 suddenly muttered.
"......? Lovers? What the hell?"
"Dorothy and I are holding hands tight, bodies pressed close, sitting on the floor. Club's about ■■ ahead of us. Coin in her hand aimed at my head, ready to fire anytime."
What the—
"Dropped the gun, but I've got a flashbang. Ready. Undetected."
This guy, right now—
"Who the hell are you talking to...!!"
"—Going."
Just as Club shouted and flicked the coin—
No. 13 tossed something without warning. Caught off guard, her eyes followed. Bomb? Weapon?
A small cylindrical object, finger-length, rolled across the ground. Unaware it was Dorothy's custom mini flashbang—
Fwaaaaaah!!
Kraka-ka-boom!
"?!"
As intended, the flashbang erupted in a blinding light and deafening roar between the three.
"You damn villain bastard...!!!"
Peeeeeng!
But Club was a battle-hardened hero. Startled for a split second, her body reacted faster than her mind, flicking the loaded coin straight at No. 13.
Thud!
"Graaah...!!"
Something hit with a dull thump. Felt solid. As the light and noise faded, Club waited—
"......Fuck."
—and groaned at the empty parking lot. No one in sight.
The black cat that had been nearby earlier had fled long ago, spooked by the blast and flash.