Department Store Terror (3)
Kang kang kang kang kang!
“Spade senior!”
Following Spade, who had subdued Villain No. 13, Club came rushing up the escalator to the floor where he had been. The floor was eerily quiet. There lay Villain No. 13, his throat gripped in Spade's hand, pinned helplessly to the ground. He couldn't move a single limb—completely and utterly restrained.
The moment Club spotted him, she drew her twin pistols from the holster on her thigh and aimed them at him. But No. 13 just lay there motionless, showing no sign of attempting anything.
Just as Apple predicted...
Apple's plan had been for Spade to charge in at top speed and pin him down before he could react. It looked like her prediction had hit the mark.
“I just took out the remaining puppets. The police will be swarming in under Apple's control soon enough.”
“Try detonating that bomb. Make one suspicious move, and I'll snap your neck.”
On top of that, Apple's measures would have cut off all external communications. A perfect trap. This villain had no escape, no means of resistance left. His only option was meek surrender and arrest.
“Villain No. 13. You've gone too far with your games. This time, it's over for you!”
Kwaaak...!
“Ugh...!”
The shock from moments ago still lingered; No. 13's eyes were rolled back, his mind unfocused. He groaned as pressure bore down on his throat. Spade's gloved hand could crush a boulder with raw strength alone. A human neck? Child's play.
And the unnatural strain on his throat right now, combined with the killing intent radiating from her at point-blank range, made it clear her threat was no bluff.
“Hoo... ha... ah... it huuurts...”
...What? This guy?
Yet despite all that, Spade sensed something odd from the man pinned beneath her. She couldn't put her finger on it. Here he was in a life-or-death pinch, but he seemed strangely... relaxed? And for some reason, a faint unease stirred in her own chest.
What the hell was this? She held all the cards right now. So why this nagging anxiety...?
“It really, fucking hurts... No way you'd charge in like that without giving me a chance to even speak... You surprised me...”
“Shut your mouth, No. 13.”
“Kuh... That was really out of left field... Should've turned you into a puppet beforehand... Nah, Club might've noticed...”
“I said shut it!”
No. 13 had a Bluetooth earpiece plugged in, its light blinking faintly. Connected to something... probably on a call? That didn't make sense. Apple downstairs was jamming all signals. No way his words were getting through. Bluffing? Or was he panicking, unaware the other end couldn't hear?
“Eh, it's fine. It's okay. We'll just improvise from here. Yeah. No problem. This is within acceptable limits. Won't derail the plan.”
He kept muttering. What the hell was he even saying? It made no sense. And how could he stay so calm while pinned down like this? Like he had an ace up his sleeve. Like he knew Spade couldn't do a damn thing.
Ignoring her threats, No. 13 looked straight up into her eyes and spoke.
“Alright then, Spade. You listen to me carefully now.”
“Spade Jack is—”
* * *
Wudududuk!!
“Senior?!”
It happened in an instant. The moment No. 13 started saying something to Spade—
Spade's hand, still gripping his throat, clenched with crushing force. It pulverized his neck muscles, snapped the bones in a single brutal squeeze.
“………!!!!”
No. 13's jaw jutted out, eyes bulging like they might pop. His face twisted into something horrific. Blood sprayed from his mouth, splattering Spade's face. The spade tattoo on her refined features was smeared with his blood.
Hahk... hahk... haa... Without releasing her grip on his crushed throat, she steadied her pounding heart and caught her breath. She had to keep him alive. Dead, she couldn't interrogate him about the rest of the Abyss organization. She'd threatened him, sure, but planned to just choke him out.
This wasn't the intention. Not at all.
Something... creepy just now...
She couldn't explain it, but letting him finish speaking felt wrong. A primal instinct screamed that hearing him out would leave her helpless. That chilling hunch had warned her.
What the hell was that...?
“Senior? You okay?”
“...Yeah. Almost killed him. Felt too dangerous; couldn't risk it.”
“If you judged it that way, then it must've been. Should we at least take the body?”
“Guess so. Can't just leave a corpse we made lying around.”
Club, who had been warily aiming her pistols, cautiously lowered them. Spade remained straddled atop No. 13's gruesome remains—neck shattered, face a mangled ruin—staring down at him.
They weren't old friends or anything, but she'd tangled with him plenty. Not quite rivals, but after all those persistent clashes and bruises exchanged, seeing his pathetic end stirred something unexpectedly poignant. A hollow emptiness, like a void opening in her chest.
Feeling sentimental over a villain? Ridiculous. She'd buried plenty with these hands. Singling him out was unfair. Whatever he'd been about to say at the end nagged at her, but now that he was dead...
...But seriously, what had he been trying to say?
Definitely something like 'Spade Jack'...
As Spade pondered this and began to rise from the corpse—
Cheol—clang!
“……?!”
A distant metallic clang echoed from somewhere. Then, heavy thuds of something dropping resounded from all directions at once.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
“Fuck…? What the…”
“Villain terror defense firewalls… Why are they coming down now…?”
Modern buildings were mandated to have thick, explosion-proof barriers for villain attacks. These firewalls deployed around the structure to block external assaults or trap villains inside like a cage.
But whether a system glitch or not, they were deploying now—pointless after the villain was down. Especially useless against No. 13's spatial escape tricks.
Lights are out too. Great timing—everything wraps up and now this happens.
The precautions were nice in theory, but worthless if the system failed. In a world rife with villain attacks endangering lives, they needed better oversight. She'd report this later, request an audit of the terror defenses.
As Spade mulled this casually—
“It huuurts...! You damn bitch...!”
“Huh…?”
Kwaaaak…!
As she rose, a hand seized her arm in a vise grip.
No way. Impossible.
“Ever died? Know how much it hurts, how terrifying it is, you damn hero…?!”
Why? How was he still alive?! His neck should've been shattered. Yet it was intact again. Gripping her arm, No. 13 finally finished what he'd started, without interruption.
“Spade Jack was hanged!”
Spade heard it clearly this time—the sentence she'd cut off before. She heard every word.
My body...!
What the hell? After those words sank in, her body froze. Consciousness faded in an instant. Sinking into darkness. No more thoughts. Resistance, retaliation—all futile.
Light vanished from Spade's eyes.
* * *
“Se...nior? Spade senior!”
Club's frantic cry rang out. Amid it, Spade—who had been crushing No. 13—rose unsteadily, like a puppet on strings. Below her, No. 13 rubbed his throat and stood as well.
For some reason, Spade seemed content to let him go. She'd even released the grip meant to prevent escape via the Advisor’s ability.
Something was wrong. Beyond failing to stop his flight, Spade's state was off. And these barriers enclosing the mall felt less like villain containment and more like a cage trapping them—the timing was too perfect.
“Senior! Get out of the way!”
Club aimed at the shambling No. 13, but Spade stepped in, blocking her line of fire. In that brief moment when the barriers dropped and lights flickered back, something had happened. Her mind couldn't keep up.
All her instincts screamed: This villain No. 13 was far more dangerous than imagined.
“Apple! Apple! Can you hear me?! Spade senior's acting weird! Requesting support based on your judgment! Apple? Apple!!”
No response from the in-ear comm linked to Apple. She'd said she'd jam external signals, but this line had been live moments ago.
“Fuck……! What the hell is going on……!”
As Club panicked, piecing it together—
“Go, Spade. Subdue Club.”
Spade charged at Club—just like she'd lunged at No. 13 moments before.