Department Store Terror (4)
A moment ago, Spade's hand had undoubtedly snapped Villain No. 13's neck. She felt the solid crunch, and the body pinned beneath her wasn't some doll disguised as him. She'd clearly ended his life, and he should have died a gruesome death—yet Villain No. 13 was alive. The reason was too simple to call a trick. It was simply his ability. In other words, immortality. Slashed by blades, pierced by spears, heart exploded, brains splattered, limbs torn to shreds—he wouldn't die, reverting to his original form every time. A cheat-like power. ...Though now, without his constellation supplying mana, he could only use the mana siphoned from Spade, making it limited immortality at best. Still, thanks to this ability, he'd survived Spade's violence. And it even lured out her carelessness.
Crash!Krshhhh!!
"Gah...!"
Spade's charging kick sent Club's body flying through the air, smashing into and shattering a shopping mall display window before embedding itself inside. Glass shards scattered everywhere, slicing her skin, but it wasn't fatal. Still, there was no time to relax.
Drip... Crackle...
"Urk, Senior... snap out of it!"
Spade staggered into the store, swaying unsteadily. She was clearly off. Mind control? Was that her ability? At least, none of the Abyss grunts Club had interrogated mentioned anything like it.
'Fuck! What a bunch of useless trash!'
It was different from the ability he'd used last time they met. And surviving a broken neck? Controlling a hero of Spade's caliber? This was way too overpowered, a total cheat.
'No... probably not. It seems cheat-like, but it has limits.'
Proof: Club wasn't under control right now. Maybe he could only manipulate one at a time, or there were other restrictions. Even in this worst-case scenario, Club clung to her cool head, thinking it through. Giving up here would mean she didn't deserve to be called an elite hero.
Shweee!BOOM!!
Spade leaped at Club as she rolled across the floor, stomping down like she meant to crush her flat.
"Ngh... cha!"
Club grabbed the edge of a nearby table and vaulted upward in an acrobatic flip, evading the incoming foot. She floated over it in a handstand-like pose, crossing atop the table. Cat-like agility. No run-up needed for that—it was forced by the 500-won coin taped to her shoe sole, generating momentary propulsion.
Missing Club with her godlike dodge, Spade's foot slammed the floor instead. Marble cracked and shattered noisily under the mana-infused stomp. If it had hit, several bones would have pulverized—a strike loaded with killing intent.
'At least this is lucky.'
'Senior Spade's movements aren't her usual...!'
Club knew from watching her up close. Spade's real speed was faster. There was a tiny lag between her actions—a minuscule gap before transitioning to the next move. That's how she'd dodged the last one. Maybe imperfect control? Either way, it was a relief for Club.
Tap, tap!
Club put distance between them with light footwork, glancing past the shattered window to gauge Villain No. 13's position.
'If this is his doing.'
'Take him out, and...!!'
Club aimed the pistols in both hands at Spade.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Alternating fire from both guns—six shots total. The bullets, clearly aimed at Spade, twisted mid-air in impossible trajectories, veering harmlessly around her.
"Huh...?!"
Villain No. 13, who'd been spectating from afar while leaving it to Spade, suddenly took the cunningly redirected bullets all over his body and collapsed with a death rattle at this unexpected timing. But the blood-soaked form on the floor zombie-stumbled back up, swaying.
'He doesn't die?! Fucking shit!'
"Clu...b..."
"Senior...? Ouch!"
BOOM! Crash!
Club barely dodged Spade's incoming punch. A hapless mannequin took it instead, flying off and tumbling through the remaining display window.
Distracted by No. 13, she'd nearly died. If Spade hadn't called her name, she wouldn't have dodged.
'No time for thinking.'
'Guns won't work anyway. To kill that bastard for sure...'
Club hurled both pistols at Spade and reached into her pouch. Coins jingled, filling her hand. As Spade swatted away the flying guns, Club scattered them into the air.
"Reload! Salvo Burst!"
"Fire! Become the Divine Bow and strike down the foe!"
⟨ Coin Barrage ⟩
Peeeng! Pipipipipipipipipiping!!!
Coins zipped through the narrow store in every direction. Each tracing unique paths, blinding Spade's eyes and striking from blind spots. Different timings, different trajectories—a bullet hell of coins, each packing cannonball force. Even Spade couldn't ignore them.
"Haa... aaaaaaaaaaah!!"
In the chaos of flying coins and Spade, Club crawled low across the floor and hurled herself through the shattered window. Her thigh gashed deep on jagged remnants, but she gritted through the pain. A hero had long discarded her life and fears; wounds wouldn't halt her resolve.
Fwoom!
Releasing mana from the coin under her boot sole for propulsion, she leaped again without run-up—a miraculous long jump. Club soared straight at Villain No. 13, battered from the earlier bullets.
"?!"
She saw his panic, but at this range, no escape.
'Won't die from piercing or breaking.'
'Then... I'll sever that neck!'
She drew a hefty special knife from the sheath on her thigh. Solid weight in her hand, extending through her arm. At this speed and with her body weight behind it, it'd slice clean through.
"This time... die...!!"
Club hurtled in, knife gleaming. Just as it swung to behead Villain No. 13—
Kwaaaaa!!
"Wha...!?"
For a split second, she thought a storm hit. What overtook Club, now inches from No. 13, was Spade. Pinned by the coin barrage? She'd ignored it, charging to protect him.
"Ugh, ack?!"
Spade reached No. 13 first, snatching Club's collar mid-air and slamming her into a nearby pillar, redirecting her momentum.
Ruuuuumble!!
"Guhak...! Agh...!!!"
Unimaginable power from Spade's slender arm pinned Club to the pillar. Her legs dangled off the ground; no wriggling free.
"Senior... ngh... guhak...!"
Spade's eyes remained vacant. Unfocused, foggy, staring up at her. No. 13's control wasn't perfect. This Spade was no real threat. But impossible for Club to fight. She was C-rank; Spade, A-rank hero. That was A-rank—an insurmountable gap no skill could bridge.
Hah... hah... hah...
"Senior... snap... out of it... please...!"
Desperate final plea, grasping at straws. But the hand gripping her collar showed no sign of loosening.
What the hell did you do? To Senior Spade, my respected senior...!
"Good work, Spade. Hold her just like that."
"You... Villain No. 13... what did you do to her?!"
"You think I'm an idiot? Gonna spell it all out?"
Villain No. 13 limped toward Club. Bullet wounds from earlier. He snatched the pistol Spade held in her other hand—the one Club had thrown—and aimed it at his own neck. Bang!
"...?!"
Club's eyes widened at the spraying flesh and blood fountain right before her. But moments later, his shattered head reformed with grinding sounds, his body healing fully. Even the limp vanished.
"Ah, ow~ fucking hurts. Normally any wound heals instantly, but since this state, it only regenerates after I die. Real goddamn inconvenient."
He complained like it was a hassle. Explaining his cheap ability so openly? Probably because he was sure Club couldn't do shit now.
Villain No. 13 smirked bitterly at the immobilized Club in Spade's grip.
"Anyway, good job. Quite the brutal fight. Thanks to you, I got some 'Alliance'-worthy footage to show off. Gotta check my hand, though."
A satisfied smile. Club didn't fully grasp his words, but dimly sensed she'd been used in some villain plot. Infuriating, enraging, resentful. But she could do nothing now.
"You put up a hell of a show, but it's over, Club."
Villain No. 13 pulled brainwashing drug and a handkerchief from his pocket. He soaked the cloth and brought it close to Club.
"Fuck... don't, don't do it...! Stay back!"
"Be good. ...It'll be over quick."
Nothing to learn from this situation. Just a vague sense that approaching No. 13 meant he'd do to her what he'd done to Spade. Resistance was futile. Spade pinned her with one arm like a boulder.
"Fuck... won't forgive you... gonna kill you... you... Villain No. 13... I'll fucking kill you... definitely...!"
"Yeah, yeah. Try it if you can. ...Won't even be able to think that soon."
Utterly relaxed, No. 13 clamped the drug-soaked handkerchief over her mouth and nose. Club struggled, but pointlessly. The cloth pressed firm, drug scent seeping in. Consciousness blurred, limbs weakening rapidly.
No... can't... me... no more...
