Fallen Villain's New Beginning (3)
With those words, Dorothy left the lab. Now, only Villain No. 13 and Apple—who was still masturbating under his command—remained inside.
In Villain No. 13's hand was the bundle of papers Dorothy had handed him before departing. Manuals for the various brainwashing tools she'd developed.
"……Thanks, Dorothy."
He said it even though she was already gone. Regardless of her usual tone or attitude, he was endlessly grateful that she hadn't abandoned him in a situation like this and had even offered her help. It felt like a ray of light piercing through a desperate crisis. He could guess at the feelings behind her stern final words, which only made him feel more sorry and thankful.
Still. It's kind of funny when you think about it.
……Become a villain, she says. What the hell does Dorothy think I am?
I'm a villain.
Sure, he pulled plenty of idiotic stunts on the regular, but deep down in his bones, he'd sworn long ago to become a villain. So even without Dorothy's scolding, what he had to do wouldn't change.
"Let's fuck a bunch of heroes raw, shall we?"
Tools that looked like they could only be used for one obvious purpose. Manuals for handling them were right there in his hand, and his guinea pig for getting the hang of them was right in front of him, lost in her frenzied masturbation.
Either way, he'd use everything at his disposal. And above all, he'd stay true to his desires. Villain No. 13 was a villain. Because he was a villain. And villains stayed faithful to their desires.
Defiling heroes left and right with cowardly tricks... The thought alone struck him as so perfectly villainous that he couldn't help but chuckle.
Of course, resolving to do it was one thing—but unfortunately, heroes weren't the type to go down easy.
At minimum, in a life-or-death situation for them, they sure as hell wouldn't just swallow brainwashing drugs handed to them on a platter... And trying to use other tools came with a mountain of headaches.
So what was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he lacked materials entirely.
Dorothy's brainwashing tools covered every sense—sight, sound, touch, smell—with a full array of options. Plus, even if she was just a low-rank hero, he had one under his control already.
He had everything he needed. Asking for more would be pure greed.
So what he needed now was...
"Gonna need a plan."
Villain No. 13 muttered to himself, then strode off with firm steps, as if his destination was already set.
The villain organization Abyss had fewer members than most groups to begin with. And now, with most of them gone, only four remained—including the boss.
But it didn't feel hopeless. Aside from the boss, the two leftovers (one being Dorothy) were top-tier talents, the absolute cream of the crop.
Following Dorothy's advice, Villain No. 13 first tidied up his beard and hair, then went looking for his remaining competent subordinate. He was currently in the hideout's infirmary.
Knock knock— He took a light breath, then knocked.
"Advisor, you in there? Mind if I come in?"
A reply came immediately from the other side. Come on in.
He opened the door and stepped inside, hit by a sharp whiff of medicinal scents befitting an infirmary.
"It's... been a while... Sir No. 13..."
A feeble voice echoed from within. On the bed lay a patient wrapped head to toe in bandages like a mummy. Even his face was covered, with only his eyes peeking out—and glasses still perched above them, which somehow came off as comical.
The last of his competent subordinates. This was the man known as the Advisor, famed for his ghostly intellect and stratagems.
Ghostly intellect. Sage-like judgment. A schemer reminiscent of Zhuge Liang.
...Even accounting for some subjective exaggeration, the man before him lived up to the hype as a genius.
A different flavor of genius from Dorothy, and though he was an Awakener, his brilliance had nothing to do with his constellation's power.
Awakener bodies were supposed to be female only, but curiously, he—like Villain No. 13—was one of the rare males to awaken. It was part of why No. 13 felt a special camaraderie with him.
Oh, and for some reason, he'd sworn undying loyalty to No. 13. It was unshakable, utterly reliable. Even if the whole world betrayed him, the Advisor would stay by his side—no question.
"What the hell happened to you while I was gone?"
Normally a tidy-haired, refined pretty boy with an intellectual air—like some irritating gigolo—the bandages now hid almost all of that.
He'd heard the gist from Dorothy, but seeing it in person, the state looked pretty gruesome.
"Sorry I wasn't around and you had to hit the field yourself."
Villain No. 13 apologized straightforwardly. Field ops were supposed to be for action guys like him. The Advisor, who should stay back and command, had been forced onto the front lines—and ended up like this trying to protect as many subordinates as he could.
It was all his own failing, his own fault.
To that sincere apology, the Advisor brushed it off with a playful quip from beneath the bandages. "No need. I chose to do it. And I believed you'd come back... Shame I had to show you an empty hideout, though."
His grateful words nearly brought tears to No. 13's eyes. The Advisor was the best. If he were a woman, No. 13 would've proposed on the spot. Homely, great cook, smart, good earner, no flaws anywhere—and so exemplary a person that even as a fellow man, there wasn't a hint of jealousy.
Really, if the Advisor were a woman, No. 13 wasn't sure he could've held back.
"Good thing you're a guy. Otherwise, I'd be begging you to marry me right now."
He muttered it offhand, and for some reason, the Advisor flinched.
"......What was that out of nowhere?"
"Nah, no deeper meaning. Just that you're an amazing guy. If you were a woman, I'd propose in a heartbeat~ That's all. Seriously, thank god you're a dude."
He laughed to lighten the mood, but the Advisor didn't join in. Hidden by the bandages, maybe? Damn, he'd meant it as a laugh line.
Once they'd chatted enough to loosen up, he briefed the Advisor on the current situation. The Advisor seemed to already grasp Abyss's dire straits anyway, so the main topic was the "brainwashing manual" he'd just gotten from Dorothy.
Manual was maybe the wrong word—it felt more like a progress report on observations.
"I see. Brainwashing tools... and a low-rank hero from the 7th Squad."
The Advisor murmured at the ceiling, piecing it together after hearing No. 13 out. He'd dumped a ton of info, but a genius like him would've memorized it all on the first pass. This was why geniuses ruled.
"By the way, Advisor, how's that body holding up? Can't you do your usual thing?"
Villain No. 13 asked out of the blue, curious.
The Advisor was a villain known as the "immortal." No matter how many times you killed him, he wouldn't stay dead. Precisely, he did die—but popped up in a new body right away.
His flesh looked human enough, blood and all, but it was actually a fake body conjured by his magic—a doll, essentially. He hopped his soul from doll to doll to cheat death, earning his nickname.
These wounds should heal completely once he transferred to a new one. So why was he still like this?
"Well... it's a bit hard to explain, sir."
"? What is?"
"...Truth is, while you were away..."
With No. 13 gone, manpower shortages had thrown the Advisor onto the front lines multiple times. And there, he'd taken fatal wounds and swapped bodies several times. Repeated it over and over.
"And now I'm out of stock... My mana reserves are so small, it'll take about a month to make a new one..."
Villain No. 13 was speechless. Guilt and shame kept him from meeting the Advisor's eyes.
"Please look up, Sir No. 13. It's fine."
"No, but if this body had croaked for real, you'd be done for."
"Ahaha, there's more to it, but really, I'm okay."
The Advisor chuckled good-naturedly.
"I didn't die anyway, and even if this body breaks... ......well, there's that."
He said something, but so softly and deliberately that No. 13 couldn't catch it. He considered asking again but dropped it—the Advisor clearly didn't want to elaborate.
Anyway, now came the real question: what next?
"Hm. Listening to you, Sir No. 13, I've got a great idea. Or rather, we've got perfect materials. Endless ways to make this work."
"For real?"
"Yes. It'll take time to outline, but it's guaranteed. Look forward to it, sir."
If the Advisor said so, it was as good as done.
"You're the man, Advisor! Thanks! You're the only one I can count on! Love ya!"
"...Ah, yes."
Saying "love ya" between guys was a bit gross, huh. The Advisor's expression turned subtly weird. Hard to tell under the bandages, though.
Either way, preparations were complete. Tools from Dorothy, a test subject in Apple, a solid brain in the Advisor.
All that was left was for him to take this body out into the field and clash head-on.
I wonder if I can really pull it off...