Chapter 27
The door clicked open, and from behind it, a figure stepped into the dim hospital room. The injured boy lying on the bed turned his head, his eyes widening with recognition.
"It's you… the one who saved me," he murmured. "Thank you, Hero."
Ronan shook his head as he approached the bed. "I'm no hero," he said simply, sitting down beside the boy.
The silence hung for a moment before Ronan asked, "So… how did you end up tangled with those men?"
The boy's gaze dropped. Slowly, he began to explain—how the gangsters constantly harassed, beat, and extorted the people living at the edge of the city, an area left unprotected because they had no hero watching over them. He had tried to stand up to them… and paid the price.
As Ronan listened, he cracked his knuckles slowly, his eyes narrowing. When the boy finished, Ronan noticed something clenched tightly in his palm.
"What's that?" he asked.
The boy hesitated before unfolding his hand, revealing a crumpled, torn ticket. His voice trembled. "It was supposed to be a birthday gift for my sister. I saved up for weeks… but when they beat me, it got ruined."
Ronan's expression twitched, his lips tightening. He wanted to say something—maybe scold the boy for being reckless, maybe remind him he was lucky to still be alive—but he didn't. He understood too well what it meant to want to protect someone… someone you called sister.
Suddenly, the door exploded off its hinges.
Seven men stormed into the room, their eyes scanning, looking for a target.
"Raise your hands!" one of them barked, each of them activating their skills.
A black-haired man, sitting a few meters away, slowly stood and raised his hands. As he turned to face them, one of the men shouted, "What the hell?!
"Wait—why's the exterminator so… chubby?" another sneered.
"Don't lower your guard!" someone snapped. "He could be using a shapeshifting skill."
"No, he's not," said the group's leader, Gray. His glowing eyes narrowed. "If it was a shapeshifter, I'd know."
Gray turned to one of his subordinates. "Which room did the doctor say?"
"Room 43, sir."
"And which room are we in now?"
"43C, sir."
They all froze. Realization struck them like lightning. The exterminator could be in any of the other rooms.
"What are you waiting for?!" Gray roared. "Move! He must not escape!"
The group scattered, flinging open doors, searching every corner of the hospital. But their target was gone.
Outside, Gray stormed toward the exit. As he rounded a corner, he bumped into a hooded man sipping from a water bottle.
"Sorry," Gray muttered distractedly.
The hooded figure didn't reply. He simply kept walking.
Gray's second-in-command watched him go. "That guy looked… suspicious."
"Suspicious? For drinking water?" Gray scowled. "So what, everyone who drinks water is a criminal now? Don't be ridiculous."
Meanwhile, outside the hospital, Ronan strolled down the street, his hood pulled low over his face. In his hand, he crumpled the torn ticket before letting it fall into a trash bin.
He'd seen the heroes pass, barely slipping away unnoticed.
"That was close," he muttered, glancing back at the hospital. "This is getting far more complicated than I thought."
Just then, a crowd gathered down the block caught his attention.
Without a word, Ronan shifted direction and walked toward it.
A man stood confidently in the center of the platform. Beside him, a suited announcer stepped forward and addressed the crowd that had gathered.
"Everyone, we present to you Armon — a Class B hero, ranked 25th in the nation. His defense is said to be indestructible. He is practically invulnerable."
A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd.
"Due to his generosity," the announcer continued, "he has offered a reward of 100 million yen to anyone who can manage to leave even the smallest scratch on his body."
Gasps and whispers echoed across the plaza as the audience began to fantasize about what they could do with that kind of money. A bold man stepped forward, fists clenched.
"I'll go first."
Armon barely reacted, motioning lazily for the man to begin.
The challenger roared and lunged forward, activating his skill — Striking Fist. His punch landed with a loud bang against Armon's chest. Dust rose. The crowd leaned in, breath held.
When it cleared, silence gripped them.
Not a single scratch. Armon's skin was pristine.
"No way... with that much power and nothing?" someone muttered.
Before the challenger could react, Armon grabbed his wrist and crushed it with a sickening crunch. The man screamed and collapsed.
"What the hell was that for?!" someone in the crowd shouted.
"If he doesn't get treated by a top-tier healer, he'll never use that hand again," another said, horrified.
The suited announcer simply smiled. "Ah, I forgot to mention. Anyone who fails to harm Armon... will be punished by him in return."
A cold silence settled over the crowd. The meaning was clear — taking the challenge was as good as signing your own misfortune.
Armon sneered, scanning the hesitant onlookers.
"What's wrong? Are you all cowards? Weaklings? Spineless trash?"
He hurled insults at them, but no one dared move. Just as he turned to leave in disappointment, a hooded figure stepped onto the stage.
Armon raised a brow. "Seems not all of you are spineless after all."
"I have a proposal," the stranger — Ronan — said calmly.
"What is it?" Armon asked, eyeing him with a dangerous smile.
Ronan's voice remained calm. "Will the reward increase if I manage to injure you?"
Armon scoffed. "You? Injure me?"
Ronan remained expressionless. Armon's smile widened.
"Fine. Let's make this interesting. If you manage to injure me, I'll double the reward — 200 million yen."
The crowd erupted with gasps.
"But," Armon added with a smirk, "if you fail, I won't just break your arms — I'll crush them to pieces."
Everyone expected Ronan to back down. Instead, he tilted his head slightly.
"What if I knock you out cold?" he asked.
Armon's eyes widened, his face twitching in disbelief. "What did you just say?"
The crowd was stunned. Knock Armon out? That was suicide.
Armon's pride wouldn't allow him to refuse now. Not in front of so many witnesses. He clenched his fists.
"Fine. Since you're so confident, I'll raise the stakes."
He placed a glowing golden card on the stage floor. "Everything I own is in this account. If you manage to knock me out, it's yours."
"But if you lose," he added with a chilling Voice, "I'll take your life."
Ronan's gaze didn't waver. He glanced briefly at the card.
If he's willing to offer 200 million yen, how much does he really have? Ronan thought. Perfect.
"Give me all you've got!" Armon roared.
Ronan didn't remove his hands from his pockets. He simply dashed forward, leapt into the air, and spun. A powerful kick collided cleanly with Armon's neck — a sharp crack filled the air.
Silence.
Armon stood frozen... then slowly tilted and collapsed, his neck grotesquely bent inward.
The suited man's face went pale. Armon was still alive, but barely. Medics rushed to the stage.
Ronan stepped forward, picked up the card, and calmly turned to leave.
"The challenge... is over," he muttered.
To be continued.