Check and Coco: Hero Rescue Operation (2)
'...A sound.'
It seemed like something was making noise a little ways off. Coco's sharp ears picked it up.
But it would be fine. If anything happened to Check, she'd send some kind of signal through the communicator.
And above all, no matter what came up, Check could handle it. The position of vice-captain of the 7th Squad wasn't for the faint of heart.
Coco, who had infiltrated the factory through a different passage from Check, proceeded cautiously down the corridor. Her eyes scanned warily for cameras or the like.
This abandoned factory had three other entrances besides the front gate, but all three were sealed or blocked off. On the first floor, even the windows were covered with steel plates, making entry or peeking inside impossible.
In the end, Coco gave up on infiltrating the first floor and slipped in through a single broken window that remained on the second floor.
The past terrorist incident, the "Great Catastrophe." This factory must have been abandoned along with the surrounding streets because of it.
Thoroughly plating the windows with steel sheets, the traces of deliberate sealing at the entrances... It was hard to believe those were left by employees who had fled the factory at the time.
This place wasn't chosen just because it was an empty building. It was clearly designated because hands had already been prepared in various ways.
So, being on guard for internal surveillance cameras was only natural.
Unlike Check, Coco—who had infiltrated fully geared up—wore a black cap and a skintight bodysuit. It was her custom outfit for infiltration and intelligence ops, unlike Spade's front-line gear.
No obvious weapons in sight, but surprisingly, it was packed with nasty tools like poison needles hidden in various spots. And above all, since Coco's abilities weren't for combat, there was no need to carry crude weapons.
'Now, how should I move from here...'
Coco recalled the factory's layout she'd scouted from outside and advanced carefully through the abandoned corridor.
Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack!
Thwack! Crunch! Crash!
Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack!
Smack! Boom!
The noise of the mannequins echoed from all directions, interspersed with the occasional sounds of destruction and violence.
In the wide warehouse space deep inside the abandoned factory, the 7th Squad's vice-captain Check was surrounded by countless mannequins lunging at her.
Mannequins everywhere she looked. Each one boasting strength greater than an average adult male, they piled up like towering waves, charging at Check to prove that no one could withstand a swarm.
Not just front, back, left, right—but mannequins trampling each other's heads or leaping from scattered debris, raining down from above as well.
Even if she had eyes in the back of her head, responding to such a chaotic onslaught would be impossible.
That went for veteran hero Check too... or so one might think.
But no matter how it looked to a third party, Check showed no sign of distress amid the surging wave of mannequins. She was perfectly fine.
What kind of ability was that, anyway?
Arms and legs thrusting out from every direction—she dodged the countless mannequin limbs like morning mist or flowing water.
And at the same time, she systematically destroyed them one by one with her own arms and legs.
Her speed was imperceptible to the eye. In the blink of an eye, she'd flicker and relocate, leaving two or three mannequins shattered to pieces in her wake.
As if growing anxious at that fact, even more mannequins swarmed her all at once.
But greater numbers only created more openings amid the chaos, even if it looked intimidating.
Sure enough, Check slipped through their group assault like a mirage and reappeared three steps away from the charging pack.
"What a hassle."
She could have crushed two or three more in that interval, but she held back. Smashing them one by one—how long would that take?
And besides, even with heads or torsos smashed, the mannequins just kept coming in that state. It didn't seem to reduce their numbers much.
Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack!
Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack!
The ragtag mannequins tangled together yet charged at Check again.
Facing them, Check let her arms hang loosely at her sides, standing casually as if she'd given up.
Finally, the mannequins grabbed Check. They swarmed and pinned her down.
They seized her limbs to immobilize her, and more piled on top, entangling her further to ensure she couldn't budge.
Mannequins layered around Check, forming a single mass—like a small mountain.
No one could move under the weight of those hefty mannequins. All they could do was pray not to be crushed.
Anyone would think that.
And the next moment—
Boooom!!!
Clatter-clatter-clatter—the mannequin fragments scattered and flew.
About half the ones surrounding Check were shattered beyond repair, the rest damaged in at least one spot.
Check, who had been buried in mannequins, was now surrounded by weapons that had appeared out of nowhere.
Spear, sword, hammer, weight, flail, spear, and staff.
A variety of weapons and tools—none of which she'd held moments ago—jutted outward around her like thorns, blades menacingly pointed out.
Check shoved the weapons aside and stepped out from within.
As she did, she grabbed one that fit her hand perfectly—a staff.
"Didn't ya tell me not to bring weapons?"
No. 13 had clearly laid down that rule. If she broke it, he'd abandon the talks and flee. Or he couldn't guarantee the hostage's safety.
But.
"This ain't brought—it was made right here on the spot. So, safe?"
Not sure if it would carry, but she said it anyway.
They'd claimed it was just for a chat, then sicced this pathetic puppet squad on her.
After pulling this stunt, rules and hostages meant nothing now.
"Gotta smash these puppets quick and go catch that bastard."
With excitement bubbling up in her mock dialect, Check swung the staff gripped in both hands a few times.
Toward her, the once-scattered mannequins charged again.
Check's ability, the magic she wielded, was Weapon Creation.
Not only could she create weapons, but she could also reinforce them or read the memories of weapons in hand to wield them to their utmost.
But Check's strength didn't lie in the weapons she made or the power to enhance them.
What made Check strong. What allowed her to rise to vice-captain of the 7th Squad.
It was her experience and martial talent, more than her ability itself.
Those evasion moves earlier, slipping through mannequin attacks barehanded like mirages or water.
And simultaneously pulverizing them with her fists.
All of it achieved with just her body, without proper magic or mana.
Shattering mannequins tough enough to break a normal person's fist on impact—with single barehanded strikes, as if it were nothing. Evasion techniques like magic.
All of it.
In a society where even mid-tier heroes and villains flaunted flashy magic, Check's ability itself was unremarkable.
But because the user was Check—because she wielded it—it transformed into a ferocious beast that crushed any magic or ability.
This was 7th Squad vice-captain Check. An A-rank like Spade, but unlike her junior who had just reached A-rank, Check was a magnificent hero with S-rank promotion confirmed.
And for a puppet squad to challenge such a hero—especially one stronger unarmed, a martial god—it was a foregone conclusion.
Crack... Clatter...
"Already over?"
Having just split the head of the last remaining mannequin with her staff, Check muttered as she scanned the surroundings.
At her feet, the horrifically shattered remnants of the mannequin puppets carpeted the floor so thickly the ground was invisible.
Except for the initial all-out weapon assault, she'd faced them afterward with only that single staff in hand.
Yet that alone had reduced the mannequins to this pitiful state.
Moreover, it had taken less than five minutes to demolish the dozens of mannequin soldiers.
It was like a beast, like a storm, like a natural disaster.
Such terrifying momentum, such incredible speed.
Now, then...
......
'What now?'
Check furrowed her brow.
Great, she'd smashed this lame puppet squad. But what next?
Her dilemma didn't last long.
A crackling mechanical noise sounded there.
The noise came from a speaker in one corner of the warehouse.
Not just random junk piled in the warehouse—it seemed placed there by that villain.
"Welcome, Check."
"How was our welcome? Hope you liked it."
The voice from beyond the speaker brazenly said as much.