章 53: Odi responsibility-LIII
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DATE:8th of July, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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I woke up with some cramps, a painful reminder that the bruises from yesterday hadn't quite faded yet. After a quick shower, Alice and I sat down for breakfast—croissants with raspberry jam, simple but satisfying it was quite a popular treat in Ventia, especially the villages where wild berries could be found. When I was young I wasn't allowed to eat jam. My mother said sugars are a poison of the body, something the Devil invented.
Once we were ready, we headed to the mechanic shop to check on her car. The repairs were taking longer than expected; the mechanic said it would still be a few months before it was roadworthy again. Alice wasn't thrilled, but she shrugged it off. Should I say they were quick? Not only had the motor exploded, but there was probably compounding damage to many other mechanical systems of the car. I surprised it wasn't salvaged.
From there, we made our way to HQ. As we walked in, the Kung Fu fighter—what was his name again? Dragon?—greeted us and led me to the locker room where the new team members waited. It seems like he is a pseudo second in command because Sarah trusts him. He was here since the founding.
The introductions were straightforward. There was Amelia, the ice manipulator from the operation who had tragically lost most of her team. Then there were the two young recruits we picked up at Zenik: an Eastern, serious-looking girl with short hair, and the other kid, a wide-eyed boy with a lot of energy.
Dragon left us to get acquainted, and I took the opportunity to remove my mask. With four out of the five already knowing my identity, there wasn't much point in keeping it on.
"William Carter Jr.," I said, introducing myself. "Call me Will if you like."
Amelia raised a brow, crossing her arms. "You were part of the raid on the Donn, right? What actually happened down there?"
I remembered she had stayed above ground during the operation. "One of the Donn's henchmen killed him," I said bluntly. "It wasn't me."
Chou, the former Zenik student, looked skeptical. "You've only been a hero for a month, right? Are you really supposed to be in charge already?"
Before I could respond, the other kid, I think his name was Ulkip? jumped in. "He's done more in one month than most heroes do in a year! He took down Biz."
The chou's expression shifted to surprise. "Wait, you took down Biz? I hadn't heard that."
I shrugged, not sure how to respond to the attention. "It was a team effort." As if all of them were useless. How could SuperiorWoman just be knocked out by tear gas?
Amelia, though quiet, was clearly taking everything in, her gaze steady and appraising. I could tell she wasn't the type to be easily impressed, but at least she wasn't questioning my leadership outright.
"Well," I said, looking around at the group. "We've got a lot to work on, but if we stick together, I think we'll be able to handle anything that comes our way."
They nodded, some more hesitantly than others, but it was a start.
The light training session began with me observing each of their powers in action, trying to get a sense of how they could fit together as a team.
The Chou girl started first, showcasing her wind manipulation. She demonstrated her ability to generate wind blades, thin and sharp enough to slice through the wooden targets set up in the training area. She also created a gust strong enough to send a punching bag swinging wildly and hovered a few feet off the ground to display her flight. It was impressive, but I could tell she wasn't showing her full capabilities.
"You could probably form tornadoes, right?" I asked, crossing my arms.
She nodded hesitantly. "I could, but it takes a lot of focus and energy. Not really practical in smaller spaces."
"Fair point," I replied. "Let's keep it in mind for larger-scale operations."
Ulkip was up next. He cracked his knuckles confidently before explaining his ability further.
"My power builds up kinetic energy whenever I move," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Once I've stored enough, I can discharge it as an explosive force."
He demonstrated by sprinting back and forth across the room a few times before coming to a halt. A glow seemed to radiate from his hands as he slammed one into the ground, creating a small shockwave that cracked the surface.
I raised an eyebrow. "Efficient, but you're going to need a lot of stamina to maintain that over long missions."
He grinned. "Good thing I've got plenty of it."
Finally, there was Amelia, the ice manipulator.
She stood quietly, her arms crossed, as if debating whether she needed to demonstrate at all. "You already saw what I can do," she said flatly.
"True," I said, thinking back to her ice wall during the operation. "But let's see how precise you can be."
With a sigh, she raised one hand and created a small, intricate sculpture of a snowflake out of ice. She didn't stop there—she added layers, forming a miniature frozen replica of the HQ's training room, complete with tiny figures of us inside.
"Okay," I said, genuinely impressed. "Precision, speed, and control. That's going to be useful."
Amelia gave a small nod of acknowledgment, then stepped back to let the others finish.
As I observed their abilities, I realized that, with the right strategy, I might not have to rely on my own powers as much. If I could direct them effectively, I could save myself the strain—and the consequences—of using my time-slowing ability.
That was the hope, anyway.
Ulkip challenged me to a duel, because he was curious what I was capable of since my days at the Academy.
I couldn't really refuse.
Now what style should I use? He probably prefers a more aggressive style. I remember He was always on the offensive at that tournament. That said, I barely remembered what he did. Supposedly we wouldn't use our abilities. He was more so curious about my martial skills.
I decide to test him and take a stance I learned was used as training in the old, now disbanded Ventian military
To take this stance, the individual begins by positioning their feet shoulder-width apart, grounding themselves for stability. They step one foot slightly back, angling their body sideways to present a smaller target. Their knees bend slightly, creating a relaxed but ready posture, with their weight distributed evenly across the balls of their feet for quick movement.
The hands are raised to chin level, palms open and fingers loose, with elbows tucked close to the body to shield the ribs. Their chin dips subtly, protecting the jaw, while their eyes remain locked on the opponent, scanning for threats. The stance appears both defensive and aggressive, poised for immediate action or counterattack.
I open with a left jab which he dodges, before filling with a stomach upwards punch with the right hand, making him stumble.
I'm surprised he was caught in this combination.
Ulkip staggered back, a flicker of surprise flashing across his face as my punch connected. He quickly recovered, though, adjusting his footing with a sharp exhale.
"Not bad," he said, grinning, trying to mask the impact I'd made.
I smirked at his jab.
He shifted into a more aggressive stance, his shoulders squared and fists clenched, clearly gearing up for a counter. As expected, Ulkip came at me with a flurry of quick, sharp punches. His speed was impressive—agile and relentless, each strike aimed with precision.
I dodged the first few blows, stepping back just enough to keep him at arm's length. His movements reminded me of the reckless energy I'd seen at the tournament—always on the attack, always trying to overwhelm his opponent.
But this time, I wanted to test his reaction time. When he overextended on a right hook, I stepped into his space, pivoting around him and delivering a swift palm strike to his ribs.
He gasped, stumbling again, but he didn't fall. Instead, he spun around and aimed a low kick at my legs, forcing me to hop back.
"Good recovery," I said, nodding in approval. "But you're leaving yourself open too often."
"Yeah?" he shot back, wiping sweat from his brow. "Let's see if you can keep up, Captain."
Ulkip lunged forward, feinting with a jab before going low for a sweeping kick. I narrowly avoided it, but I could see he was testing me now, looking for weaknesses in my stance or movements.
I decided to press him harder. Taking a step forward, I threw a quick series of jabs to his face—not to land them, but to force him to defend high—before pivoting and delivering a sharp kick to his side.
He stumbled again, this time dropping to one knee, breathing heavily. "Okay, okay, I get it," he said, holding up a hand. "You're no slouch."
I extended a hand to help him up,
After our training session, I figured it was only fitting to offer to take the team out for a meal. After all, that's what you're supposed to do when you meet a new team, right?
The Chou girl politely excused herself, saying she had business to attend to, but the others seemed more than happy to join me.
I mentioned that I didn't have a car at the moment—Alice's was still being repaired—and Amelia, ever the practical one, offered to drive us. I figured since she was doing the favor, I might as well treat her and the others to something nice.
"Do you have any restaurant in mind?" I asked her, leaning back as I casually wiped my hands on a napkin.
Amelia hesitated a moment before answering. "I don't really eat out that much," she said, almost sheepishly.
I smiled and shrugged. "How about a place with some hearty, classic dishes? I know a Normandian-style restaurant nearby. The food there's great." I actually had Emily suggest me one. How was ai supposed to know anything about this city?
They agreed without much hesitation, and we set off, chatting on the way.
The restaurant was cozy, its warm, rustic charm radiating with deep wooden beams along the ceiling and soft lighting that gave the place a welcoming, intimate feel. The floor was tiled with terracotta, and large windows offered a view of the street outside, where the hustle and bustle seemed distant. The walls were adorned with vintage paintings of rolling fields and farms, giving it a homey, countryside vibe. The smell of herbs and fresh bread wafted through the air, blending with the faint scent of aged wood.
The wooden tables were set with simple, yet elegant white cloths, and the soft clink of cutlery and quiet murmur of conversations created a relaxed, peaceful ambiance. A fire crackled softly in the hearth at the far end of the room, casting a gentle glow that added to the cozy atmosphere.
We were seated at a round table near the center. The waiter came over, and after a moment of indecision, we all ordered classic dishes from the region.
Amelia went for a hearty seafood stew, filled with mussels, scallops, and white fish, simmered in a delicate broth with fresh herbs and a splash of cream. The rich aroma of the dish mixed with the salty scent of the ocean was irresistible.
Alice chose a roasted chicken dish, tender and golden, served with a side of garlic mashed potatoes and a fresh green salad. It was simple, yet flavorful, each bite bursting with the essence of the dish's careful preparation.
Ulkip, surprisingly, opted for a roasted duck leg, glazed with a sweet-and-savory sauce, accompanied by braised carrots and sautéed potatoes. The duck was perfectly cooked, crispy on the outside, yet tender and juicy inside.
I for one had a boar stew? Something like that. It wasn't really my style as Normandian boars are very fatty.
As we dug into our meals, the conversation naturally shifted, and Alice turned to Ulkip, asking, "So, what have you been up to since the academy?"
His face twitched a little as if considering whether to share. "I've been busy," he said, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. "Training, keeping busy with some personal projects... There was a lot more training than I thought was needed after I left the Academy."
"You're really ambitious." She paused, glancing at me with a slight smirk. "Will has his work cut out for him."
I rolled my eyes, half-smiling, as I continued eating.
The waiter brings over our total, and I glance at the bill—300 Zols. Amelia looks a bit surprised, but I don't pay it much attention. I've worked hard for my money. It's not like I'm out here blowing it on something pointless. Shouldn't that mean I don't need to feel guilty about spending it? I don't get the whole obsession with saving every penny, especially when life's already difficult enough.
After we finish up, we say our goodbyes. Amelia drives Ulkip off while Alice and I head back on foot. The walk feels comfortable, the air crisp, and this area is much livelier than the tower where Alice stays. It's a bit of a change of pace, and I enjoy the easy silence between us as we walk.
Once we get back to the apartment, I go straight for the bed. Alice settles into the living room to watch a movie, and I sink into the mattress, feeling the weariness of the day settling in.
I put my earpiece in and ask Emily if she's found anything about the men after her.
"Their track is well cleaned," she responds, her voice calm but distant.
I sigh, staring up at the ceiling. It seems like there's no easy way to get answers. With that, I let myself drift into sleep.
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DATE:8th of July, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Concord Metropolis
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Now this dream was strange. I was sitting on a woman's lap. I was much younger, I think about ten? Looking down, I was wearing simple clothes just like in that period. She was caressing my hair. I look up and I don't recognize her. She wasn't my mother.
My mother wouldn't have touched me anyway. I think the most comfort she gave me was through slaps.
Anyway, this woman was much slimmer and prettier than my mother. She was wearing a white dress and had her hair in loops.
We were in what looked like a park. There were white flowers it patches everywhere, blooming. We were staying on a bench in one of those covered resting areas parks have. In Ventia these are mostly used by newlyweds for engagement photos.
There were white petals flying around us.
It was surreal.
I ask the woman who she was. My voice wasn't younger. It was my normal one. That felt wrong. What was more wrong was that she didn't respond.
I raise my head again to look at her and her eyes are very big. She gazes at me softly, but I am not really comfortable. This whole scene was strange.
She raises my head slightly and gives me a smooch on the cheek. I could feel her vibrant red lipstick sticking to my skin. I could feel the place she touched heating lightly.
"My son..." She said softly.
This wasn't my mother.
I tried to raise, but she catches my hip lightly with her free hand and puts me back down.
"Sit." Her voice tried to pass off as a human's, but I didn't see it like that. No, there was some sort of melody behind it, almost like her words were echoes by a distant harp.
Birds were chirping in the distance.
The more I look around, the less this seems like a park. Sure there are walkable paths to take, but I look in the distance and only see rare trees. No one was around us.
"Where are we?" I sheepishly ask.
"Home." I think she was glancing in the distance, but I couldn't be certain. What did she mean?
I try to raise again, but before I can even do that I start to shake and open my eyes.
Alice shook me awake, her tone sharp. "The Combine gang attacked Bubble TV. They've taken over the building."
I blinked a few times, the words not quite registering. "What?" My mind scrambled to catch up as I reached for my earpiece. Emily, already active, filled in the gaps.
"They hit the office during a managerial emergency meeting late last night," she said, her voice steady. "Apparently, it was convened due to the fallout from the Donn's downfall. The Combine gang took the managers and directors hostage. They're demanding a huge ransom from Silvian Morris for their lives."
"Morris hasn't responded yet?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
"No," Emily replied. "And things are escalating. General Foiçs—who stayed behind in the city because of the investigation into the Black Market operations linked to the late Lord—wanted to send his army. But he's bound by law and can only have 20 retainers within the city, his personal bodyguards. He's stuck."
"Of course," I muttered.
Emily continued, "General Foiçs posted a public video calling out the Royal Governor for failing to act. It's the Governor's responsibility to protect Concord, but he's been silent too."
Alice crossed her arms. "And the House of Administration chimed in. One of their agents mentioned the possibility of bombs being in place. They claim the royal investigators can't manage something this large alone. That's why UltraMan's League was requested to intervene."
"That doesn't make sense," I said, sitting up. "The League just went through hell with what happened two days ago. They're still recovering."
Alice sighed. "Yes, but there's money involved. A big monetary incentive for whoever resolves this situation. That's why they reached out to us. The Combine's timing is... suspicious, but they're banking on the League not stepping in and everyone else being unreliable."
"Unreliable?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"The public sees most other hero agencies as corrupt or ineffective," Alice explained. "Right now, we're the least tarnished option.
Or the Governor trusts us the most. One of those two."
I glanced at the window, the city lights twinkling in the early morning haze. A hostage situation, bombs, ransom demands—this wasn't just a mission. It was a mess.
We grabbed whatever scraps were left in the fridge, scarfing them down quickly before hailing a taxi to the closed-off perimeter surrounding Bubble Tower.
The scene was chaotic but controlled. Civil Militia encircled the building, armored vans stationed like makeshift bases. The vehicles bore the logo of Vobile, a private security company that wasn't as notorious as Quartz but seemed to be their primary competitor.
"They handle most of Silvian Morris's properties," Emily explained through my earpiece, "even ones he doesn't technically own."
"More formal than Quartz, right?" I asked, recalling scattered mentions of them during missions.
"Supposedly," Emily said, her tone skeptical. "But weaker in combat. They don't rely on ex-soldiers like Quartz does."
"Then who do they recruit?" I asked as we approached one of the perimeter guards.
"They start from scratch," she said. "Recruits go through company-owned training camps. It's less about combat experience and more about cultivating loyalty. Their whole brand hinges on trust—especially since they guard businesses with sensitive information."
"Loyalty makes sense," I muttered, glancing at the stoic guards around us. "If you're protecting corporate secrets, you don't want someone who's easily bought."
I sized up the Vobile personnel, noting their rigid postures and clean uniforms. They looked professional, but their equipment didn't scream "frontline ready." It felt more like they were here to hold the line until someone more capable—like us—stepped in.
Amelia and Ulkip were already waiting for us when we arrived. I left them with Alice while I made my way toward the largest Vobile van, the one clearly serving as the command center. It towered over the others, bristling with antennas, and inside was a hive of activity: operators hunched over computers, speaking in clipped tones, their screens alive with maps and live feeds.
The commander stood at the center, a man in his fifties wearing a bulletproof vest over a suit that strained at the buttons. His presence was commanding, even with the glaring mole on his right cheek. When I introduced myself and requested access to the building's plans and security cameras, his face immediately hardened with disapproval.
"That's classified information," he said gruffly, crossing his arms.
I met his gaze evenly. "And how do you expect us to intervene without it? We're here to clean up this mess. Your mess."
He stiffened, clearly not used to being spoken to like that. "We could provide you with live guidance through our communication lines—"
"We don't work for you," I interrupted. "We were brought in because you couldn't handle this. Either let us do our job, or send your own men in and see how that works out."
His jaw tightened at the veiled challenge. He glanced around, likely weighing his options and realizing the limits of his own personnel. With a reluctant sigh, he gestured to one of his operators.
"Download the building plans for them," he ordered curtly.
As the files were transferred to my device, Emily quietly worked her magic in the background. Unbeknownst to the commander, she was slipping a backdoor into the system, granting her access to the cameras and security feeds in Bubble TV. By the time I left the van, I not only had the blueprints but a direct line into their eyes and ears.
It was only a matter of time before we had the advantage.
I could hear scuffing in the distance about "this captain" the league sent. So childish.
When I returned to Alice, she was waiting with Amelia and Ulkip, though the Chou girl was still nowhere to be seen. I didn't say anything about her absence; she clearly had her own priorities. Instead, I focused on the task at hand.
I pulled up the building plans on my phone and handed it to Alice. "Check the cameras and see what we're working with."
She nodded, connecting to the feeds through Emily's work. As expected, the Combine gang had been thorough—they took down several cameras, mostly in the areas they were occupying. Ironically, this made pinpointing their location easier. The cameras they left untouched painted a clear boundary around their zone of control.
"They're holed up in the meeting room and three adjacent rooms," Alice confirmed, her eyes scanning the footage. She paused for a moment. "I found their leader. Another lieutenant."
She turned the phone toward me, showing a man in a blood-smeared hockey mask. His posture was imposing even through the grainy footage, and the weapon slung across his back suggested he wasn't just there to make threats.
Alice tapped the screen, pulling up additional information from the criminal database. "He goes by The Rightful Mischief, but his registered name is Mark Dwaine."
I frowned, taking in the details. The Combine gang's structure was always more chaotic than other groups. Decentralized and operating more like an alliance of smaller gangs, they didn't rely on a single figurehead. Each lieutenant was effectively a gang leader in their own right, making them nearly impossible to eradicate completely. And that supposed overarching leadership? Still a mystery after all these years.
I leaned back against a barricade, considering the lieutenants I'd faced so far—The Minotaur, Golden Tooth, and now Bloody Mask. I couldn't deny they had a flair for theatrics. At least they weren't boring.
"Bloody Mask, huh?" I muttered, glancing at Alice. "What's his deal?"
She glanced at the footage again, her tone neutral. "Looks like he's running the operation. Armed hostages, maybe bombs, and a whole lot of guards."
I nodded. "Well, that's just another name to cross off the list."
I drummed my fingers against the edge of a nearby table, restless and irritated at the lack of movement. The girl from Chou was still nowhere to be seen, and I was tired of waiting. I turned to Ulkip, who was leaning against a barricade, sharpening his blade out of habit.
"Call her," I said flatly.
He didn't even look up, just shrugged and dialed. After a brief conversation, he hung up and muttered, "She's stuck in traffic."
Figures.
"Let's just make a plan in the meantime," I said, crouching to spread the building plans on the ground for everyone to see.
The meeting room was on the 17th floor. That much was clear. Using the elevators wasn't an option—not with the Combine gang likely having rigged traps or alarms. The stairs weren't much better, but they were our only real choice. Mines, alarms, or whatever else they had planned would just have to be dealt with when the time came. If it came down to it, killing every last one of them was still on the table.
There was one nagging concern, though. "If they've strapped any of the hostages with explosives…" I trailed off.
Alice nodded grimly. "We need to be prepared for that possibility."
I sighed, already annoyed at the complexity of the situation. The Vobile commander had made it clear that there would be no negotiations. They wouldn't even answer the gangsters' calls. That left us with one priority: getting those managers out alive.
If things went south—if we triggered an alarm, set off a bomb, or failed to secure the hostages—I knew there'd be consequences. Losing my hero license was a real possibility. But honestly? I couldn't bring myself to care. If the worst happened, I'd just disappear. I've done it before; I could do it again.
I glanced at the plans again, my eyes scanning the blueprint of the 17th floor and the floors below it. That's when it hit me.
"Alice," I said suddenly, "can you get me to the 18th floor?"
She raised an eyebrow but didn't question it. "Probably. Why?"
I pointed to a vent on the 18th floor marked on the plans. "There's an air duct here. It's got a clean exit point not far from the meeting room. If I can get in there quietly, I can scout ahead and maybe take out a few of them without raising any alarms."
Alice studied the blueprint and nodded. "It's risky, but it's doable."
"Good," I said, standing up. "Let's stop wasting time."
The rest of the team gave their reluctant nods, though Ulkip looked like he was itching to just charge in. I wasn't going to wait around for traffic or second guesses. We had a plan, and I was ready to move.-*-*-*-*-*
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