Chapter 94: Bad Fate

I sighed.

“More than you’d think.”

“Huh? Why?”

So-hee, surprised, asked back at my unexpected response.

The current me, maybe, but the villain-era Ho-cheol from records didn’t fit that image.

I turned my chair to face her.

Her piercing gaze made dodging tough.

Besides, she might spot something I’d missed.

“Not exactly a proud story, so I don’t love explaining.”

Back then, the villain world was saturated.

The Sun and Smiley were active—a hero golden age.

Villains barely survived in the shadows.

The real issue wasn’t villains, but gates and monsters.

An S-rank villain was less than a mid-sized gate in a city center.

Villain territories were packed tight—no room for a needle.

Even pickpockets divided up alleys by 100 meters.

As a latecomer, my limits as a villain were clear.

Building a faction slowly would take a century.

So I chose a simple, effective way.

Take someone’s turf by force, pick fights, beat them down, and swallow it whole.

Starting alone, I built the nation’s biggest villain group in three years.

So-hee muttered, unimpressed.

“Brutal.”

“But effective. Anyway, crushing some groups…”

I frowned, mid-sentence.

Over ten years ago, but recalling it soured my mood.

The worst time of my life.

“Some kept picking fights over overlapping turf.”

A few groups clashed with me repeatedly, pissing me off.

Annoyed, I went and crushed them.

“Turns out, they were big into human trafficking.”

The top commodity: healthy twenty-somethings.

Fresh organs were in demand, supply short.

Next: kids.

Less demand, but easy to grab.

Orphans vanished, and no one cared—assumed dead in gate accidents.

Those groups preferred steady income over risky heists.

“Saved about thirty, maybe.”

It didn’t end there.

After them, I ran into mad scientists doing human experiments, villains obsessed with creepy rituals—subhuman scum.

Dealing with them, I always found a few victims.

“All told, maybe over fifty.”

Close to fifty, but I didn’t bond or care much, so their faces blurred.

So-hee asked, worried.

“What happened to those kids?”

“I was a criminal, not a monster.”

I wiped their memories and sent them off.

My group ran fronts for money laundering and smuggling, so no need to keep stray kids.

So-hee nodded, certain.

“Then she’s one of them.”

“Tch. They saw me for a few hours, tops. No close ties.”

“But those hours could be huge for someone.”

I rubbed my cheek with my finger.

Not entirely wrong.

I knew someone whose life flipped in a moment.

Was the boss like that?

If so, one thing was clear.

“No answers from thinking, then.”

Best to catch and ask her directly.

“She doesn’t seem too hostile, so I’ll lure her into letting her guard down.”

Even if it’s dirty, I’d catch her next time.

Her past, our connection, her goals—I didn’t care much.

My interest in her was singular.

She claimed to succeed my Organization.

That lingering stain on my life irritated me beyond endurance.

I’d crush the Organization.

I burned with resolve.

Bzzz—

A vibration.

I checked my phone on the desk, brow furrowing.

“Are they insane?”

So-hee slid off the bed, asking?

“What?”

“They’re working me on weekdays now.”

A Legal Department text about an escapee.

Supposed to be weekends only, but they’re creeping into weekdays.

The location was far—going would eat the day.

After my recent ordeal, what was this?

I’d have words later.

Grumbling, I stood.

So-hee gave me an odd look.

“You sound mad, but you seem… kinda happy?”

“What nonsense… Actually, yeah.”

Buttoning my shirt, I admitted it.

“Guess I’ve been stressed.”

Physically drained, then the boss showed up, scratching my psyche raw.

I felt anything but mature.

“So, I’m a bit excited.”

My smile, unlike usual, was ominous.

“Hope today’s villain is vile and tough enough to take a beating guilt-free.”

Watching me ready, So-hee prayed silently.

Whoever met him today, may they be a sturdy stress-relief punching bag.

* * *

Normally, Da-yeon and Ye-jin tagged along to catch escapees.

Today, only So-hee and I rode the Bbi Bbi MK3.

Weekday, and after this morning’s beating, they’d be useless anyway.

Left them behind.

So-hee, gripping the wheel, hummed.

“Been a while since just us two, huh?”

“Since the gate—”

“That doesn’t count! We suffered!”

She cut me off, horrified.

Fair enough.

I nodded.

“You’re right. But after all that, the Legal Department won’t give you sick leave?”

Hospitalized, discharged, and only two days later, she was back on duty.

Unlike me, her tests weren’t great.

Weakened, she was told to rest, yet here she was, glued to me.

“Well, that’s how it is.”

She shrugged vaguely.

She’d gotten leave.

The Legal Department was brutal, but not so cruel as to deny rest to someone nearly dead.

She refused it.

Leave meant another agent watching me, and she’d lose her reason to stay at the Academy.

Suffer with me or rest without me—no contest.

Misreading her vague reply, I clicked my tongue.

“Public servants treat people like parts. Hopeless.”

“Right~”

Chatting, we reached our destination.

Parking, I checked my phone against the buildings.

A hidden building in a dim alley, its shabby exterior blending with others.

I stood at the entrance, relaxed.

If the Legal Department’s info was right, here.

I reached for the doorbell, tapping the speaker twice with my nail instead of ringing.

A staticky voice answered.

“Who’s this?”

“Guest.”

Creak—

The locked door opened.

I stepped into the dark building, So-hee trailing, whispering,.

“Easier than I thought.”

“Not hardcore illegal. Just enough to dodge heroes or agents.”

Complex codes or passes scare off customers.

The bell was just to check if you knew the place.

“Hmm, I’m an agent, though.”

“You’re not cracking down.”

We descended a narrow staircase to the basement.

At the bottom, bright light and stifling heat hit us.

The room resembled a giant helmet.

Circular walls lined with towering stands, worn concrete and rusted rebar hinting at its age.

So-hee froze, awkward.

“…This is…”

Snapping out of it, she muttered.

“An underground arena.”

“Yup.”

She’d heard rumors but never seen one.

Scanning the stands, packed with people, their eyes burned with desire.

Half craved blood-soaked carnage; half were gamblers riding the frenzy.

No one noticed us, but she lowered her voice.

“Is the villain here?”

“Yup.”

“Among all these people?”

So many…

I smirked at her worry.

“Nah.”

I couldn't even pick one out of hundreds.

If that was the job, I’d be strangling the Department head, acquitted.

“One of the fighters.”

I pointed below the stands.

At the center, an octagonal steel ring.

“Been a while.”

I muttered, nostalgic.

Not this place, but similar ones were common in my villain days.

Only one could stand in the end.

Eight spotlights shone for that sole victor.

“Then we just wait?”

“Yup.”

Waiting in a corner, a man with half his face tattooed stepped to the ring, mic in hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Had a good day? Washed away fatigue, left with ease? No, I know you haven’t!”

His voice rose.

“Hungry! Thirsty! Blood boiling! Souls ablaze! We know what you need! That’s why you’re here!”

The arena grew hotter, wilder.

“Time for a bloodbath! Five matches today. Details—”

He pointed at the scoreboard above.

“Check the board!”

It listed fighters, bios, match details, and betting odds.

The crowd’s eyes, and mine, turned to it.

The escapee I was after was slated to fight.

Checking the schedule helped plan my move.

“Destroyer,” “Crownless,” “Human Betrayer”—laughable nicknames.

Real stars wouldn’t show in a dump like this.

But after scanning over thirty names, my face grew serious.

“What?”

So-hee’s question made me nod at the board.

“No ‘No-Face.’”

She scanned it.

“Yeah, not there. Wait, really?”

“Struck out.”

I sighed.

The Department’s info was wrong—no escapee listed.

Not shocking.

Their intel was tentative, subject to change. In a deathmatch, a fighter could skip for bad conditions or a whim.

Plenty of reasons.

Their info often came from external sources, not real-time.

My perfect track record was a real feat.

Shaking my head, I turned.

No point lingering—waste of time.

I could grill the staff for info, but this villain wasn’t worth it.

Not my job.

“Let’s go.”

“No choice.”

We climbed the stairs.

The arena’s heat raged, but my interest cooled.

“And finally! Today’s tournament winner gets more than prize money! Back after a month! Our champion! 182 fights, 182 wins! Undefeated! The ultimate warrior! The legendary fighter!”

As I stepped on the first stair—

“Wolf Fang!”

The voice stopped me.

Wolf Fang.

A generic name, heard anywhere.

But my gut screamed it wasn't a coincidence.

I trusted that instinct.

Returning to my spot, I checked the scoreboard.

A man appeared—wolf mask, cloaked, only his neck visible.

His build, gait, aura—etched in my memory.

The faint tattoo on his neck confirmed it.

“Huh.”

I gave a stunned laugh.

So-hee, catching up, asked?

“What?”

“Thought today was a bust. Come for minnows…”

Pushing through the crowd, I reached the stands’ front, leaning on the railing, staring at the ring.

Grinning at Wolf Fang posing amid cheers, I said.

“Caught a whale.”

Or maybe a shark.

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