The air was cold.
The goth lady walked toward Oliver and Prismatica.
Oliver didn't flinch.
Instead, he calmly tilted his head to think.
『Hmm… System says she's extremely dangerous. Kills easier than she breathes. But hey—this might be a good chance to see what Prismatica can really do…』
He side-eyed his little heroine—
Only to realize…
She wasn't beside him anymore.
He blinked.
"… Huh?"
Prismatica was behind him—clinging to him like a cat in a thunderstorm. Her legs were trembling as if she were standing atop a dying washing machine. She gripped his jacket with both hands like it was her last lifeline.
"Uuuuu…! (＞﹏＜)"
"What in the world are you doing?"
Oliver muttered, glancing down.
Prismatica jolted like she was epileptic.
"I… I… I'm thinking of a strategy! Yeah, that's right!"
"You liar. You're scared…"
He stared down at her short stature with half-lidded eyes of disappointment.
It easily got to Prismatica.
"N-, No, it's not like that at all…! (｡ŏ﹏ŏ)"
"So you're scared, tsk!"
"A-, Are you CRAZY──?!"
Prismatica squeaked shamelessly.
"Of course, I'm scared! T-, That's the Dark Lady of Old Trenton!! She's not just dangerous—she's a literal murder house in high heels!"
She peeked past his shoulder, and her face went pale.
"A pro hero came here months ago to arrest her. He was supposed to suppress her. You know what she did?! SHE TORE HIS SKELETON OUT OF HIS BODY AND—!!"
"HE DESERVED IT!!!"
The goth lady suddenly screamed.
A jagged spear of black shadow shot out of the raven like a cannonbolt—fwooosh!
It whizzed past Oliver's cheek, slicing off strands of his hair faster than he could blink.
Prismatica let out a yelp like a helpless mouse and slammed her face against Oliver's back, squeezing her eyes shut so hard they almost clicked.
Oliver just stood there. Even now.
Somehow managing to stay on his feet.
Because he couldn't afford to look scared.
Not on livestream.
Not in front of the heroines he was trying to recruit.
Not while he has a deadline.
He took a slow breath in.
But before he could say anything, the goth lady began murmuring to herself.
"It wasn't my fault… I didn't know he was a hero… how was I supposed to know…?"
She freakishly clutched herself like the air around her had dropped below freezing.
"They wear the same smug faces. Say the same lies. He touched the women I was protecting… he violated them… he acted out of line… no different than the criminals they pretend to fight…"
The raven behind her twisted like ink in water.
"The only people scared of me… are the wretched scum with impure hearts!"
She pointed directly at Oliver and screamed—
"HE DESERVED TO HAVE HIS PENIS RIPPED OUT OF HIS CROTCH! I DON'T REGRET IT!"
Silence.
[YO WHAT THE HELL DID SHE JUST SAY 💀💀💀]
[I don't know what to do with this information…]
[Work the devil would be dumbfounded by]
[I choked on my cereal, help.]
[Not the shaboingboing 😭]
[Penis Extraction Department. The sorta thing my Dad and China probably needs 💪]
└ [How much points is bro's Dad putting up in bed to be compared with China 💀]
[She broke the world record for number of penises collected, the most before that… was zero…]
･･･
Prismatica was still behind Oliver, trembling and peeking between her fingers.
『Gangs, thugs, drug traffickers— I can definitely handle all of those. But HER?!』
She gulped animatedly.
『She's CRAZY… I've seen what she does to bad people. She collects their genitals like she's peeling stickers off some perverted scrapbook!』
She shook her head violently.
『Nope. NO WAY! (;>﹏<;)』
She wasn't fighting that.
Meanwhile, Oliver just… stared.
The goth lady blinked at him, lips curled into a soft, oddly casual smile. Like she hadn't just shouted about genital mutilation on stream.
"So…"
Oliver finally spoke.
"That's why you kill. Because you want to deliver the kind of justice modern heroes can't—?"
She cut him off, voice suddenly gentle.
"No. I kill because it turns me on~ ❤️"
Her cheeks flushed deep red.
She had such a perverted look on her face.
Like some sort of aroused sadist.
She slowly grabbed her crotch with one hand and sucked on her middle finger with the other, sighing obscenely through her nose.
Maybe to contain this "passion" of hers.
Oliver blinked.
『Is… is this really happening?』
His luck was starting to frustrate him.
『This woman is insane… this is the first recruit the System gave me? This is like starting a game with a wooden sword and being told to solo the final boss butt-naked.』
But he didn't flinch.
He just stood there, silent and unreadable.
Not even a bead of sweat.
The goth lady giggled and slipped her finger out of her slimy hot mouth, letting the string of saliva hang for a second before she said softly—
"Oh don't hide it~ I can feel you, y'know. The fear. The anger. That tiny twitch of jealousy… knowing someone out there will always be more powerful, more wanted than a nobody like you…"
Fufufu~ ❤️
She giggled dangerously.
"Your kind always gives their all and never amounts to anything in the end… just left to drown in a pile of their own failures and regrets. Uhuhuhu~ it's a treat really."
She licked her lips hungrily and cooed—
"And you know what?"
Her head tilted back, her cheeks flushed a deep, rosy red as her slender arms slid around her own curvy waist, pulling herself tight as a needy little moan escaped her lips.
"I've never… been this turned on in my life~ ❤️"
There was such wicked delight in her tone.
The pain and frustration he kept bottled up was absolutely delicious to her
She pointed a finger at Oliver.
"Don't worry, mmm~"
She licked her lips again—it was a bad habit at this point.
"Your death will be special. I'll make sure to keep your privates in a jar… just for me—"
"Elena Bianchi." Oliver said.
The goth lady froze.
Everything stopped.
The raven behind her disintegrated into dark mist, and her eyes widened—just barely.
But then… she turned away.
Almost as if she was trying to hide her face.
"That name… how do you know that name…"
Even her voice was shaking.
Prismatica looked up. "Huh…?"
The bloodlust was gone.
"That's your name, isn't it?" Oliver said.
The woman didn't answer.
She turned away and began walking slowly, almost like she didn't know where her feet were going.
Her heels clicked against the ground lifelessly.
They didn't have nearly as much confidence as before.
"Where are you going?" Oliver asked.
"Somewhere I won't hear that name again."
Oliver watched her.
His lips moved before he could stop them.
"You want justice, right? That's easy. You can be a hero. Be my client. I'll make sure your wishes come true. You've got a lot of prayers, don't you? I'll answer them."
She didn't say a word.
Frustrated, Oliver marched forward.
Prismatica screamed—
"NO! DON'T DO IT!"
But he grabbed her shoulder.
"Please. Just talk to me. Come on."
The moment he did, the goth lady flinched.
Her body froze—eyes quivering.
A dark memory passed through her mind.
Then—BOOOM!
A black wave exploded from her body, blasting Oliver back like a ragdoll.
He spun through the air and crashed mercilessly into a pile of garbage.
"OLIVER!!" Prismatica screamed.
She flew over to him, tears spilling out as she dropped to her knees and cupped his face.
She feverishly lifted her visor and hiccupped like she couldn't breathe.
"JUST WAIT—! I'LL—I'LL—!! I… don't know!! I don't know what to do!!"
Her hands trembled as blood soaked into her gloves.
"Blood…"
It made her body grow cold and her mind faded.
"I… I… I'm useless…"
Her trembling hands dropped to her sides.
[NOOOOOOO NOT MY BOIII 😭😭😭]
[How I found my bro after he said she was the one 💔]
[Prismatica pls read the chat!! MOVE HIM!! CPR!!]
[Bro got hit with the emotional damage DLC]
[GIRL GET UP AND DO SOMETHING AHHHH]
└ [More useless than Miles Morales backflip smh]
└ [Don't disrespect my girl like that again lil bro]
･･･
Oliver coughed up blood again.
He gritted his teeth as he sat up.
Prismatica gasped.
"Y-, You're okay──?!"
He reached up and placed a bloodied hand on her head as he patted it twice gently.
She gasped, slapped her hands over her mouth, and sobbed even harder.
Still trembling, he forced himself to his feet.
"Damn it… my suit's ruined…"
His head hammered.
"And she's gone…"
He limped toward the recruitment van.
Prismatica hovered behind him with her head down.
She still felt guilty.
『I was useless. I… I didn't do anything. I let him defend me like I was some damsel. What kind of hero lets a powerless man stand up for her…?』
Tears ran down her cheeks.
But she didn't make a sound.
Then—knock knock—Oliver pat the hood of the van with a weak grin.
"Surely you're not crying already? Is this how you'll handle haters when you become a real celebrity?"
COUGH.
"… Lame."
Prismatica wiped her tears with the back of her glove and floated over to him in silence.
She couldn't smile.
But for the first time in a while, she wanted to try.
━ ━ ━ ━
The drive back to Duke's was silent.
Too silent.
The radio was off.
The only sound in the van was the low hum of the engine and the occasional squeak of the windshield wipers as they dragged across the glass.
Oliver kept his eyes on the road, one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel, the other gripping the bottle of sparkling water he hadn't even touched. His mind replayed the whole encounter over and over again like some cruel highlight reel.
Beside him, Prismatica sat curled into the passenger seat, visor off, her bright hair messy and sticking to her cheeks. Her expression was dull—completely blank, almost lifeless. She hadn't said a single word since they left the warehouse.
Until now.
"I'll drop here…"
She finally mumbled.
Oliver gave her a sideways glance, forcing a smile to cover the disappointment creeping into his chest. He reached into the side compartment, pulled out his sleek black card, and held it toward her.
"Sure thing."
Today was a failure speed-run.
But at least there was Prismatica.
"Listen… can I come pick you up early tomorrow? I'll bring the contract, so sh—"
But he didn't even get to finish.
The door slid open with a harsh clack, and before he could blink, Prismatica had stepped out onto the street as she walked away with her small figure disappearing under the dim streetlights.
"Hey—?" Oliver tilted his head, confused.
She stopped, her back still facing him.
Her shoulders were tense, fists tight at her sides.
"I'm not interested… in signing a contract. Or being a Pro Hero for that matter."
And that was that.
She walked away without another glance.
Oliver sat there frozen for a few seconds, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.
Hope… gone. Just like that.
No Elena Bianchi. No Prismatica.
The van door slid shut.
Hours later…
The tenement building's parking lot looked like a graveyard for lost dreams.
Oliver Grant sat slumped on the concrete steps outside his van, a half-empty bottle of cheap liquor dangling from his hand. Eight more bottles lay scattered around his feet like glass corpses.
His expensive blazer was ruined—creased, stained, reeking of beer and regret. His white dress shirt was half-unbuttoned, his tie hanging loosely around his neck like a noose.
His eyes… dead.
He downed another swig.
Then, with no warning, he roared at the top of his lungs.
"DAMN IT!!!"
The bottle flew from his hand, smashing into pieces against the asphalt below.
Oliver stood up angrily.
His legs wobbling like a baby deer's.
"F-, Fuck… shit…"
He tripped forward, collapsing onto a heap of garbage bags with a pathetic grunt, but somehow managed to pull himself up, swaying like he was about to pass out any second.
"Tomorrow… tomorrow I'll be a jobless bum…"
He snorted bitterly.
"Who knew… s-, society would be this shitty…? The harder you work…"
His eyes watered, not sure if from frustration or the alcohol burning through his veins.
"… the more you fail…"
Meanwhile—
A man in a suit stood on the rooftop of a neighboring building, holding binoculars to his face.
Eyes were on Oliver.
He brought his smartphone to his ear.
"He just returned home. Doesn't look like he was drinking for celebrations… without a doubt, he failed to secure any top talents tonight."
A smirk curled the man's lips.
On the other end of the line, Penelope moaned softly as she relaxed in her oversized marble jacuzzi.
The warm water glistened against her flawless skin.
There was a crystal wine glass rested nearby, and a bowl of plump grapes sat within arm's reach.
She plucked a grape from the bunch, popping it between her lips with a pleased hum.
"Well…"
She sighed with amusement.
"That's to be expected. Honestly…"
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"I honestly can't believe I even let that broke idiot bother me for a second."
She shifted in the water, reaching for the wine glass.
"Focus on getting the demolition team ready to tear that place down. I want everything gone by NOW."
Before the man could even reply, the call disconnected with a sharp beep.
The grand bathroom door creaked open as Lana Slot entered with graceful steps and a clipboard in hand.
Even after a long day's work she still looked as radiant and beautiful as ever.
She stopped by the jacuzzi, bowing her head slightly.
"Ma'am."
Lana greeted softly.
"I've finished sorting the eviction documents. I'll be heading home soon."
Penelope glanced at her with half-lidded, lazy eyes.
She swirled her wine.
"Good girl~"
She waved her off with a graceful flick of her hand.
"Run along now."
Lana bowed again and slipped out the door.