First Brainwashing: Hero Spade (2)
This voice. This tone. Even though about two months had passed since she'd last heard it, there was no way Spade could forget that infuriating man's voice.
"No. 13...?"
[Yeah. You remember me. It's your No. 13.]
The glib voice grated on her nerves. Your No. 13? What kind of creepy bullshit was that? No, forget that.
"Why are you calling from Apple's number...? What the hell do you want?!"
[Found it on the street. Where should I send it if I want to return it? You gonna pay a reward? Looks pretty expensive.]
"Cut the crap!"
There was no way Apple would've carelessly dropped her phone, and even less chance a villain like him would've picked it up specifically. On top of that, he'd called Spade right away.
[Heroes can't even take a joke. Play along a little in situations like this. Talking to you already boils my blood as it is? You haven't forgotten what you did to me, right?]
"......"
[No answer...? Fine, got it. No more chit-chat. Let's get to the point.]
A heavy sigh from No. 13 echoed through the smartphone speaker. The exaggerated sound, the over-the-top attitude—it pissed her off to no end... but Spade blinked rapidly, forcing it down.
[Just sent a photo. Check it out.]
She pulled the phone from her ear and glanced at the screen. Sure enough, a message from Apple's number. No text—just a single attached photo.
And in the photo...
"Apple...!"
A fellow 7th Squad hero, Apple, bound to a chair with her head slumped forward. No telling what they'd done to her, but her white sleeveless shirt and uniform skirt were visibly disheveled at a glance.
Heat rushed to Spade's head in an instant.
"You...!"
[I get how you feel, but calm down first, Spade.]
Calm down? Calm down? Her vision spun from the rage boiling in her skull, but No. 13 continued.
[Understand the situation properly. Right now, this woman's in front of me, and in my hand...]
Click. The metallic sound rang out deliberately.
No way she couldn't grasp what that meant.
[Get it now?]
She couldn't confirm if it was what she thought, but one thing was clear: Apple's life hung in his hands.
She was furious. Livid. Her head felt ready to explode from the sheer anger. But she had to hold it in. Stay cool. Ice cold.
Villains taking hostages wasn't new. Spade, seasoned through countless battles, had dealt with it plenty of times.
She closed her eyes briefly, took a deep breath. When she opened them again, her face was expressionless, her mind sharp and clear.
Sensing the shift even over the phone, No. 13 let out an admiring tone.
[Already cooled off? Impressive. As expected of an A-rank hero. Used to this kinda thing, huh?]
"......Shut up and get to the point."
[Let's take it easy and chat. When else am I gonna get a proper talk with you?]
"I said shut up."
Fresh out of the shower, naked as she was, Spade clenched her fist and growled. Her mind was calm, but the fury in her heart hadn't faded. The killing intent in her voice was sharp enough to murder—enough that No. 13 clicked his tongue in resignation over the speaker.
That casual attitude only fueled her rage more.
[Hero Spade, come to the location I'll specify from now on.]
[If you show up, I'll let this woman go. Long as you don't do anything stupid, I won't lay a finger on her.]
[But come alone.]
[If I see another hero or any funny business... I don't need to spell it out, right?]
[Just you and me—let's settle this, hero.]
With that, the call ended.
Spade lowered the phone from her ear, standing frozen in the middle of the room, her eyes blazing with murderous fury.
Vroom—screech...!Click, clunk...
And about thirty minutes later.
Spade pulled up on her motorcycle in front of a rundown building on a deserted street, removed her helmet, and dismounted.
The area, scarred by past villain disasters, remained a ghost town—utterly abandoned. Within a few kilometers, the only souls were probably vagrants using the ruins for shelter, no homes or anything.
"......This the place?"
She checked her smartphone again. Yep, the GPS coordinates from No. 13 pointed right here.
Spade narrowed her eyes at the eerie, abandoned factory-like structure.
...Looks deserted, but light's leaking from inside.
[Senior Spade, you there yet?]
Club's voice came through the Bluetooth earpiece. Despite No. 13's warning, Spade couldn't come completely unprepared—she'd given Club a quick rundown. But no other measures. The time limit was too tight, likely intentional to prevent backup.
Even flooring it after briefing Club, she'd barely made it on time.
"Seems like it for now. ...Hey, Club, my audio's crackling."
[Your voice keeps cutting out too, Senior. The ruins messing with it?]
"Dunno... doesn't seem like it."
She checked the phone screen—only one antenna bar. Stepping away from the warehouse bumped it to two.
"He's done something."
Word was the villain group Abyss No. 13 belonged to had a genius inventor. Or he could've just grabbed a signal jammer—those weren't hard to come by.
"This is it for comms. If I don't check in after I go in... thirty minutes—no, one hour—then follow the plan we discussed."
Step... step...
Spade crept cautiously into the abandoned factory. Wary of bombs or traps, she scanned every corner as she advanced.
Her specialty, Body Enhancement, could tank a C4 blast at close range without dying. But multiple? Or enough to level the building? Even she'd be instant toast.
One hand gripped a hefty pistol loaded with rubber suppression rounds instead of live ammo. Her body was a weapon itself, but for non-lethal takedowns, a gun or her stun baton was safer than her fists—too much raw power there.
No. 13 harped on it constantly, but yeah—Spade really was a monster.
'Only a minute and twenty seconds till his deadline...'
Traps made her hesitate, but delaying might doom Apple. Quick decision. She bolted deeper in.
LED lights flickered sporadically amid scattered, abandoned containers. Deeper in, doors lined the halls, leading to barren corridors. Multiple floors too—searching everywhere would take time.
Feels like a damn maze.
......! ...!
As she hurried down a corridor, something caught her ear.
'This is...?'
—Presence. In the quiet ruins, the echoing sound was clear. Her mana-enhanced hearing locked on.
'That way...'
Trap or not, she couldn't ignore it. Dodging containers, past a heavy iron door, down a prison-like hall—she found the only lit room, door ajar.
"Mmph...! Mmph...!"
"Apple!"
A cramped concrete box of a room. In the center, Apple from the 7th Squad, bound just like the photo, tape over her mouth.
'Where's No. 13?'
Nowhere. Just Apple, left behind.
Beep, beep, beep—
Something was off—obvious at a glance. Don't step right in. She'd normally assess cooler, but the box at Apple's feet—a blinking red light—blanked her mind.
'Bomb?!'
If a timer, synced to his 15-minute deadline? How much time left? Blast radius? Impact? Apple's right there. Priorities? Smash it? Risk explosion? Shield her? Seconds remaining? Too late to run now?
"—Urgh!!!"
Thoughts collided. Spade charged in, scooped Apple up, leaped to the back wall. Farther from the bomb, use her body as shield. Better odds than Apple taking it bare.
Beep, beep, beep... Bweeep!
'Oh shit.'
Mid-leap over the bomb, arm outstretched—regular beeps turned to alarm wail. Timeout.
No time to flee with Apple. Spade crushed her in a hug, heart pounding wildly.
Aaah, might actually die today. A hollow thought.
Then—pop from behind.
……………………………………
…………………………
………………
'.........Pop?'
……………… That doesn't sound like an explosion. Way too light, right?
Suspicious, she slowly turned her head.
Boing~ boing~
The "bomb" box sprang open—a clown head on a spring, bouncing and wobbling. Sticking out its tongue with a cheeky grin.
Mocking her to the core.
......This bastard for real.