Chapter 107: Zero—Chain

Zero—Chain, half-collapsed from the Organization’s attack, had transformed from a decades-old prison into a cutting-edge fortress.

Not just a jail for preventing escape, but a stronghold blocking all access.

The difference was stark.

Its towering, thick walls weren’t mere concrete and metal but mixed with rare gate-mined minerals, disrupting Trait activation, absorbing, and reflecting their impact.

In these walls, the average Awakened couldn’t block a single bullet.

Automated turrets above and below scanned constantly, with only one entry point.

Traits, tech, and manpower formed an impenetrable surveillance system—no air or underground breach possible.

Three gates guarded the cell blocks.

This impregnability spoke to the caliber of Zero—Chain’s inmates.

Coordinate disruptors, Trait-suppressing waves, and shock devices blocked teleportation.

Past arrogance—assuming no one would dare attack—allowed the unprecedented escape.

The Association and government fixed those flaws, confident it’d never happen again.

I felt none of that intimidation.

As a villain, I ignored Zero—Chain—not worth the effort.

No matter how high or strong the walls, they were walls.

Hit them, they shake; strike hard, they break.

“Seriously.”

If they pulled this brazen stunt trusting those walls, that was pathetic.

“Don’t mess with her.”

A simple, ordinary request.

Yet they ignored my warning.

Wasn’t there an unspoken rule to respect boundaries?

This wasn’t toeing the line—it obliterated it.

“Stop.”

The car halted.

I stepped out silently.

So-hee rushed out, grabbing my arm.

“Wait!”

My face in the rearview was dangerously rare.

Seemingly blank, but she knew the ominous vibe beneath.

Persuasion was futile, but she had to calm my rage.

“Maybe it’s a misunderstanding!”

Her desperate cry paused me.

Lips tight, I took a deep breath.

“You’re right.”

Judging on scraps, jumping to conclusions—unwise.

I muttered it again.

“You’re right. Could be a misunderstanding.”

I freed my arm, heading for Zero—Chain’s gate.

At the entrance, a guard in high-grade body armor approached.

I scanned his gear—bulletproof vest, full helmet.

Better than most soldiers.

“This is a Level 1 security zone. Access requires pre-approval and a pass.”

I stopped.

The agent in the car, frantically calling, likely had approvals ready.

But complying meant accepting their line.

I had no intention of that.

So-hee’s plea just gave me one last brake.

“Let’s avoid worsening this with assumptions. One question.”

I raised three fingers.

“Ji-an, brought here today. Guest, witness, or prisoner?”

“That’s beyond my authority.”

“Figured. Just a guard—what do you know? Ask your boss.”

His stance stayed rigid.

“That’s also beyond my authority.”

I crossed my arms, sighing.

“No talking sense. Makes sense—sensible guys don’t guard.”

“Access through official procedures.”

“Official procedures need mutual trust, don’t they?”

I uncrossed my arms, stepping forward.

As the gap closed, he raised his gun, finger on the trigger, warning.

“One more step, I will fire.”

“I’ve been patient, considerate, and enduring. You guys? Nothing.”

Not just Ji-an’s case—not a knee-jerk reaction.

If I let this slide with words, it’d set a new line between me and the Association.

They’d cross that too.

This would mark their minds, lately too lax.

I was no longer the lesser party.

I had the power to flip this deal, essential to this fragile peace.

Smashing that pricey building would drive it home.

I had cards left to play.

Click—

Staring at the gun, I asked?

“How about this? I plan to wreck your workplace. That’ll reach high up, right?”

He faltered but tilted his head, speaking into his shoulder radio.

I waited for his report to finish.

“Stepping aside would be wise, but you won’t.”

Hands in pockets, I stepped forward.

As I reached for his shoulder—

Bang!—

The gun fired.

I’d already dodged.

Shaking my head, I said.

“No claim of self-defense, but you broke the promise first, picked the fight, and attacked.”

Even a blank round carried weight.

I grabbed the barrel, bending it.

Creak—

Trait-disrupting waves pulsed from the walls, but only a hindrance.

Guards rushed at the shot.

I nodded.

“Lots of fighting today.”

Villains, Academy, now Zero—Chain.

Even in my villain days, ten-hour battles weren’t this varied.

Grumbling, I stepped forward.

* * *

At Hero Association HQ, chaos erupted in the Legal Department.

The Legal Department head burst through the meeting room door, scanning the room—Association head and bureau chiefs gathered.

“Who!”

Despite the setting’s restraint, he roared.

“Who sent a villain straight to Zero—Chain!”

Detaining a villain without procedure was his authority.

But this major case happened without his knowledge, reported late.

He was livid.

Knowing the weight of my warning, the report chilled him.

One wrong move, he’d take the fall.

His rage echoed.

A woman at the table’s end spoke.

“Me.”

Younger than other chiefs, the Intelligence Bureau head.

“What?”

She didn’t look at him, filing her nails, answering shortly,

“I sent my agents to lock her in Zero—Chain. She’s S-rank. Not locking her up is weird.”

“What’s that—”

Her calm demeanor stunned him, stammering.

Did she not grasp what she’d done, or what’d happen?

Impossible.

As Intelligence head, she knew me best, save the Association head.

Why?

Pausing her filing, she met his eyes.

“Both critically injured, right? Perfect time to lock them up.”

She knew the Organization boss’s and my strength, their danger.

Today was the chance.

Her Academy agents reported my injuries.

“Why!”

“Because they’re absurdly strong villains.”

Now was ideal.

“That’s your excuse!”

“How many times has he breached contract? That’s enough to lock him up.”

The Association wasn’t clueless.

They tracked my covert moves but let them slide since they benefited.

His blazing eyes made her look away, guilty.

“The real reason’s different.”

He opened his mouth.

“Smiley’s legacy.”

The Association believed I’d hidden it.

Keeping me jailed made it unreachable, so they freed me.

“You overlooked his sneaking for that. But no sign of it in six months. Wrong lead? Time to lock him up for breaches.”

“That’s—”

He trembled, fists shaking.

Desk-jockeys, detached from the field!

He didn’t deny hiding motives.

Freeing me was riskier than hero shortages then.

But in six months, the balance tipped toward villains.

Today’s events helped, but villains still led.

“I need him. To minimize hero losses, catch Eclipse—he’s essential.”

“And if he turns villain, he’s worse than Eclipse. His old ideals matched Eclipse’s. Besides—”

Her face twisted, growling low.

“Trusting an ex-villain’s word to free a dangerous one? My reaction’s normal.”

“Free? He’s restrained, secured—”

“With cuffs? On a monster rivaling Eclipse? And sending her to Intelligence, not Legal?”

He fell silent.

“For analysis with existing data.”

“Bring an unstable bomb home. Hah.”

She scoffed.

“Look like a fool to you?”

“No talking sense.”

“Agreed. Should’ve gone to Legal—wouldn’t be this mess.”

He couldn’t fathom it.

Weighing risks and gains wasn’t her style.

A new possibility hit—

He turned.

A clear motive, power to influence other bureaus.

“Finance Bureau head.”

Called with certainty, the elderly Finance head opened his eyes.

“You orchestrated this.”

Covering his mouth, he coughed dryly.

“Your rehabilitation project’s costs—too wasteful. Management, containment, cleanup. Cheaper to hire hunters. And—”

Crash!—

A staffer burst in.

Despite the high-level meeting, no time for protocol.

“Emergency!”

Panting, the Intelligence head frowned.

“Your guy, Legal? My agents are calm. Tell yours to chill.”

Ignoring her, he asked?

“What?”

“N-Now!”

Before he spoke, she cut in, raising a hand.

“Enough.”

Gently, she said,

“I know. A villain’s causing trouble at Zero—Chain’s gate? Fine. I planned for this. Got heroes ready. Breaking one gate would be a feat.”

Injured, in Zero—Chain’s anti-Awakened environment, I was at a disadvantage.

“No, it’s—”

His voice trembled pitifully.

“All gates breached. Not just that—the core too.”

The room stirred.

The core, where the most dangerous villains were held.

Only one was in the new core—Ji-an.

Only the Legal head closed his eyes, as if expecting it.

When I rose as a villain, I was one among many.

Yet I crushed that era’s monsters, becoming the most dangerous, not by sheer power or strategy.

I excelled at killing.

A sinister talent, beyond numbers or words.

The Finance and Intelligence heads’ unilateral move.

The result was beyond catastrophic.

In Zero—Chain’s core cell, Ji-an looked up, muttering.

“Noisy.”

Hundreds of meters underground, surrounded by meter-thick concrete and steel.

Vibrations reached even this cell.

What was happening above?

Bound, she could only move above her shoulders.

No finger twitched.

Yet she was calm.

Suddenly restrained and thrown here.

Despite the betrayal, she had strength left.

Slaughtering heroes and agents to escape would be easy.

But she stayed, bound, dragged to the core.

Simple reason.

I promised to stay put.

And I’d come for her.

She closed her eyes, recalling hours ago.

My rescue, sweet as honey, poured into her mouth.

How long has passed?

Crunch!—

The steel door tore like paper.

Light spilled in.

Seeing me against it, she didn’t flinch, smiling lightly.

“You came.”

“Yeah. Took longer than expected.”

I shrugged, excusing.

“Remodeled, huh? Layout’s a maze. And…”

I glanced back at the torn door.

“The landlord’s pretty pissed.”

A shadow flickered at the corridor’s end.

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