Chapter 7
Even Villains Have Standards
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Adrian found himself drifting off more than once.
Two days after calling Ivan Ross, Adrian still couldn't shake off the worry of whether or not he would go to their arranged dinner at Noble Seas.
And today's the day of their arranged dinner, which was more like a shotgun date rather than anything else.
He attempted messaging Ivan several times, and he always started it by typing a message to Ivan to say he couldn't make it, only to erase it in the end before hitting send. He even considered calling him again to set things straight and tell him they didn't need to meet. But every time he tried to make all those efforts, the same wave of panic stopped him.
What would Mr. Ross—well, Ivan, possibly say? The man had already reserved a dinner for two at an expensive restaurant. He seemed so serious about his plan to meet him in person.
And Adrian? He isn't sure if he dares to face him. Despite what happened to them that night at the bar, Ivan was still a stranger. That uncertainty gnawed at him so severely that he could hardly focus even in the middle of his briefing with Mr. Harley about his new assignment.
His mind kept wandering back to his thoughts about meeting Ivan Ross.
"Arondight!" Adrian blinked hard when he heard Mr. Harley's fingers click sharply before him. "Are you even listening to me?"
"Oh! I—I'm so sorry..." Adrian was stunned and quickly straightened himself in his chair as he fumbled to arrange the mission folder neatly. After that, he drew a shallow breath and forced himself to meet Mr. Harley's eyes. "Y-yes, I'm listening."
Mr. Harley's expression hardened as he looked into Arondight with suspicion.
"Then repeat what I just said."
Adrian froze. He tried desperately to find anything in the room that he could use to cheat his boss while praying that he didn't look as lost as he felt. Thankfully, one of the analysts in the room had been taking notes. Adrian saw those notes just enough using his heightened visual ability.
"W-Well..." he started as he tried to regulate his voice into a more confident tone. "You said I need to investigate the case involving the illegal trading of unregistered and underdeveloped Variants being moved through the black market."
Mr. Harley frowned slightly. He knew Arondight had only managed to answer him thanks to one of his many abilities (spotting fine details from a distance) rather than because he was truly focused on their agenda. Still, Mr. Harley chose not to press the issue. He continued to explain Arondight's new assignment using the laser pointer in his hand, which was pointed at the large screen in front of them.
"We received intelligence from our agents suggesting that some members of the Tyrants are tied to this Black Market operation," Harley explained. He handed Arondight a separate folder containing the list of underdeveloped Variants that had gone missing for the past six months. "We've verified that most of the missing Variants over the past six months were trafficked through this black market scheme. And recently, one of the victims escaped his buyer and exposed the entire operation."
Adrian accepted the folder and flipped it open. As he read the names of those on the list, he couldn't help but recall some of the most painful memories of his past. He tried to draw in a deep breath and push the images away, but the names on the page blurred together in his vision like a fog, and each one reminded him of pain that mirrors his own.
Most of it was...inhumane.
His body could still recall how the cold sting of needles was forced into his veins to pump those chemicals meant to unlock the Variant gene inside him. Each trial was paired with relentless punishments meant to condition him to endure more pain, to break his resistance until he no longer fought back. Even as a child, he hadn't been treated as human, but as a lab rat that needed to be broken down and remade until something "useful" emerged from his wounded, fragile body.
That's why people like him had superpowers and abilities that don't occur naturally compared to the Variants, who developed their gifts independently.
Adrian's hand unconsciously drifted to his wrist and pressed his fingers slightly against the spot where the needles used to bite. There were faint, old cuts still marred in that area, too, that served as an ugly reminder of his past when he, several times, attempted to end his suffering. But it was also a testament that he hadn't given up despite everything he had experienced as a child. Eventually, he found a reason to keep going, and those marks proved how far he'd come.
He hated being dragged into cases like this because he knew he could do nothing to avoid it. After all, it was part of his duty as a hero. This could also be a way for Adrian to face his past. For years, he had buried those memories in oblivion and locked them away in the deepest part of his mind, where he never needed to look for them as he tried to move on with life.
But now, as he gazes into this list, the names of the victims are screaming for justice.
And as a hero, he couldn't just turn his back on that call.
"Alright," Adrian said quietly as he closed the folder firmly with his hand. "I'll take this assignment."
"Okay, good." The lights in the room automatically turned on, and the screen in front of them powered down. "For this assignment, I want you to bring Harbinger to help with the mission."
But instead of responding, Arondight rose from his chair, gathering the folder under his arm as if the meeting was already over.
"No need," he said flatly. "I can handle this on my own."
"Are you sure?" Mr. Harley's tone was more cautious than that of a command. It wasn't that he doubted Arondight's capacity to handle the mission. He knew better than anyone how capable the young hero was. But he was worried that he might become impulsive with his actions and decisions because the mission was too personal.
Despite that, Arondight didn't respond immediately. His fists tightened at his sides, where the leather of his gloves creaked faintly under the strain of his strength. After a long pause, he finally looked back at Mr. Harley with a practiced smile curving at his lips and said, "Of course, I'll take care of it."
Arondight left the room completely, with Mr. Harley still hearing his footsteps in the hallway before the hero completely disappeared.
"I can't read what's happening in that kid's head sometimes." Along with those words was a deep and heavy sigh, the kind that seemed to settle into his bones. He was already a little regretful that he had given the mission to Arondight. That boy had been through enough before he found him and recruited him to become a hero, and Harley knew it.
But he knew that it would also help the young hero. Arondight couldn't run from his past forever. If they were going to topple the villains who wanted to take over the city, the young hero should have to face first the scars that hold him back.
"... It's for his own good," Harley muttered, clinging to that justification even as a doubt gnawed him quietly at the edges of his resolve.
Soon, Arondight's supposed partner in the mission, Harbinger, whose ability was to disappear and drag anything he touched into that void, which made his presence feel less like a hero's entrance and more like a ghost passing through the room.
"Do you want me to follow him for you?" Harbinger asked in his usual flat tone. However, in reality, his question carried a genuine concern.
"Yes, please." He then plopped into the conference table and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. He lit it with a flick of his finger and let its smoke slowly curl towards the ceiling as he sighed and continued, "I need to make sure he doesn't do anything reckless, especially with this mission that's tied to the Tyrants, more so to the villain he's after—"
"—Red Hilt, of course." Harbinger finished the sentence for him. "Alright. I'll follow him."
And with no further word, Harbinger dissolved into the dark, vanishing as if the darkness had devoured him whole.
Now alone in the conference room, Harley took another sip of smoke from the cigarette before exhaling it towards the wide, glass window where he could see the peaceful image of Galahad City like a perfect canvas in a glass portrait.
"I wonder, how long can we keep this city at peace...?" he muttered.
-----
Meanwhile, Arondight wasted no time.
In a blink, he teleported across the city and reappeared at his target location. Before him stood an old warehouse once used for storing large industrial equipment but long since abandoned. According to the intel they'd got from the surviving victim of Variant trafficking, this was where the next exchange would take place.
Without hesitation, Arondight warped and penetrated the warehouse wall into its interior. After successfully warping, he emerged behind a row of towering machines, almost consumed by rust from having been stored there for too long. He was immediately greeted by the thick layer of dirt and dust accumulated over time, coating his throat and lungs with every breath.
But he didn't let himself be bothered by the dirt and dust and continued his mission by taking a step forward. "Okay, here we go..." he said to himself. But the rusty floor groaned softly under his boots, echoing like a warning bell he didn't want his enemies to hear.
He stopped when his footsteps made a sound. Luckily, the smugglers waiting inside the warehouse were too occupied to notice the hero. Most of them were busy with their cellphones, while others were watching after a small white van, and inside it were five Variant children: three girls and two boys, all between the ages of five and nine. Their pale faces were filled with fear, and their small bodies trembled under the dim fluorescent light of the van.
Arondight didn't like the sight. His palms clenched into fists in response to his anger and frustration, and the color of his eyes began to change. The once calm and blue eyes suddenly became as bright as gold. This only happened whenever he felt angry. In fact, his eyes changed color depending on the emotion he was feeling. And right now, his wrath burned the brightest, which explains why his eyes turned golden.
All he could think about was making these men pay for what they had done to those innocent children.
What he did next strayed from his original plan. Originally, he had meant to infiltrate the location quietly, observe first, and then strike when the time was right.
But patience was no longer an option for him, and the situation itself.
He went straight for the attack.
The instant he saw an opening, Arondight vanished from sight and made his move. His first strike fell on the armed guards by the van, taking them down before they could react. Then he swept toward the ones stationed near the gate with his shining spear. As soon as Arondight knocked them down, panic erupted through the warehouse as the dealers finally realized they were under attack. Some fought back desperately, while others scrambled to drag the children away.
But Arondight was faster.
With a swift motion, he raised an iron wall from the ground to cut off the smugglers trying to escape. He managed to stop the enemies from escaping. Still, he didn't notice that one of the men pulled out a nullifier gun and immediately shot him in the shoulder. Pain automatically surged through him as his powers gradually decreased, leaving him vulnerable to attacks. Before he could recover, another smuggler lunged forward and drove a needle laced with a powerful sedative into his neck.
"Ah—!"
Arondight staggered from his feet, forcing himself to fight back. With sheer strength, he shoved the attacker away from him with his golden eyes still blazing with rage. But the drug worked faster than Arondight expected, spreading through his veins and eventually dragging him down to the cold, dusty floor.
His limbs grew heavy the moment his body gave way. His vision blurred, and the remaining strength he had in him slowly slipped from his grasp.
"N–no..."
The word broke from his lips as darkness consumed his vision and he finally lost consciousness.
The men hesitated as they circled Arondight's motionless body. One of them knelt and checked the hero's pulse.
"Okay, he's out."
Only then did they finally relax.
"Heh, Mordred was right. The hero really did show up."
"Good thing we came ready," one of the men said with a smug grin while holding up a vial of the sedative their crew had cooked up. "Boss Red's gonna love this. First test subject for the formula, and it's the guy who's chasing him..."
"Better let the boss know we got the hero..."
They didn't waste time. One of them pulled out a phone and made the call.
At that moment, their boss was preparing for his "date" with Adrian Garland. He stood before a tall mirror, adjusting his black suit's lines and straightening his favorite red tie. He smoothed back his black, silky hair with practiced care and dabbed some perfume along his neck.
That was when his assistant stepped in. The guy moved cautiously with a phone in his hand. He spoke in a measured and calm manner, just enough not to spark his boss's temper.
"Mr. Ross, there's a call from the crew."
Ivan's face soured the moment he heard it. "Didn't I tell them to shut down the deal today? Why are they moving without my approval?"
"My apologies, sir," the assistant said carefully. "But...it seems Lord Mordred gave the order to continue the transaction..."
Annoyance immediately flashed across Ivan's face, and when he got angry, the whites of his eyes seemed to darken, and his natural red irises burned like coals. He didn't waste any words and just flicked a hand at his assistant. The man moved without thinking and flipped the call to speaker.
"I don't want to hear anything stupid," Ivan said. His voice remained smooth as silk but cold enough to cut meat. "Say something I don't like and I'll have you shot, one by one."
"Boss, we got Arondight." The man on the other end sounded eager, which made Ivan's eyebrow oddly twitch. His assistant instinctively took a half-step back; a bead of sweat rose at his temple when he saw Ivan's brow move.
A twitch like that didn't mean anything, and when it moved, they had to be prepared for what came next.
"You...have Arondight? How'd that happen?" Ivan asked, curious, but the air around him shifted. At the same time, his reflection in the mirror seemed to darken, smearing into a smoky shape with glowing red eyes.
"He rushed here at the site, boss," the man responded, not hearing the threat underneath Ivan's calm voice. "We used your new serum on him."
"That serum hasn't been tested yet." The words that came out of him were soft and controlled. But behind those gestures, there is more danger to it.
"It worked, boss. He's out cold, and we've got him. What do you want us to do next?" the man pressed.
Ivan said nothing, but he took the phone from his assistant and went onto the veranda.
Then finally, he said, "Wait for me there. I'll get him myself."
"Copy that, boss!"
Then the line went dead.
They didn't know Ivan had instantly crushed the phone in his hand and turned it to black ash when he ended the call.
"Sebastian," Ivan called.
The assistant waiting hurried over to Ivan with his head held low. "Yes, Mr. Ross."
"Tell Noble Seas we'll be late to the hotel. Don't serve anything yet until we get there."
"As you wish, Mr. Ross," Sebastian said.
Without another word, Ivan walked to the veranda's edge and leapt from the fiftieth floor of his private condo. As he fell, his body disintegrated into smoke and rose back up, heading straight for where his men had radioed in...
...toward the warehouse to fetch his date.