Hiro tugged on his grappling hook and landed squarely on the roof of the thirty-storey building. The afternoon sun scorched the gravel floor as he scurried over to the nearest doors, eager to get them open before he was baked alive in his dark-coloured suit.
To his surprise, the double French doors were unlocked. He stole a peek inside, but there was no movement he could see.
Hiro pushed the doors open and entered the building silently. According to the police scanners he listened to while on patrol, a bunch of terrorists had taken the workers of Ion Heroes Marketing hostage. Their demands were unclear, but the group was a notorious one.
Notorious enough for anyone to take them seriously.
Defected from the old villain group ‘Villain Factory’, the Liberty Brigade boasted more than a hundred mercenaries in its membership. This group had also been credited with at least sixty successful assassination missions. They were led by a top assassin skilled enough to kill a room of soldiers with nothing but a pencil, even when his quirk was being muffled.
Hiro could make out the faint outline of office cubicles from where he was looking over, but not a single one was out of place. If the terrorists had broken into this building by force, they certainly respected their surroundings.
The vigilante smirked arrogantly from behind his helmet. Even the police had trouble getting to such a secluded building in the forest, as mentioned over the scanner. Sure, some heroes could get here in a few seconds, given their natural gifts. But the fact that Hiro was the first one on the site only showed how much better he was than all of them.
Still, suspicion began to form in his gut. Taking random office workers hostage in the middle of nowhere definitely wasn’t the best way to spread the Liberty Brigade’s ideology of quirk liberation, either. So what could they possibly want with such an off-site branch of Ion Heroes?
The vigilante flicked his head to the sound of muffled yelling, followed by machine gun fire. His heart raced. Those criminals must be getting impatient with whatever demands were still not being met. The longer he waited, the more trouble those workers were in. No time for hesitation. He had to act now.
Wood crashed all around Hiro as he broke down the pantry doors, riot shield in front of his body and baton in his free hand. His senses sharpened as he got ready to attack—
There was no one around.
The vigilante lowered his shield slightly, staring at the radio playing back the audio of a war movie. What the hell was going on? Was someone pranking the police?
A familiar smell drifted to his nose as Hiro sniffed the air. It smelled a little like bananas, but there was something off. His eyes widened in horror as he suddenly recalled what it was.
Nitroglycerin!
The ex-soldier hooked the shield on his back and sprinted out of the empty pantry room, leaping over a parapet without hesitation. He desperately shot a grapple at the nearest surface as he swung to a lower level, praying that he had reacted quickly enough.
A deafening blast from behind sent him crashing into a wall.
Hiro tumbled and winced in pain as smoke filled the air, but he was uninjured otherwise. The office on the higher floor, however, had been reduced to a heap of blackened rubble.
His eyes narrowed behind his helmet. Now that he thought about it, the police scanner had never sounded so clear on his computer before. Did someone plant some kind of audio bug on his computer to lure him here? Was someone trying to assassinate him instead? Was that why no heroes had arrived yet?
Hiro whipped his head back at the sound of rushing footsteps. There was no time to muse now. Clear and present were the hundreds of men lined up in front of him, brandishing their various weapons menacingly.
“Trap failed?” one of them yelled. “Impossible!”
“Softened him up for us.” Another grinned maniacally at the cornered man. “You killed our brothers. Time to die, vigilante!”
Hiro took a step back, feeling his back touch the wall. Adrenaline flooded his body as he silently switched Bjarkan Mode to twenty per cent.
Whatever had happened, these criminals had literally backed him into a wall. It was Russian Roulette with five bullets in the chamber, and there was only one way out of this. The vigilante gritted his teeth, steeling himself for the tough fight ahead.
If he was going to hell, he was bringing along company.
The first man lunged with a maniacal yell, swinging his machete arms wildly. Hiro dodged the swings with a simple twirl as daggers formed in his palms. Blood splattered as he stabbed the assailant in a frenzy before shoving his limp body to the side.
Two more men charged towards him.
The vigilante ducked under one of them, flinging him over the parapet. A sickening crunching sound echoed as the man landed on a metal railing several stories below, snapping his spine instantly.
Buzzing filled the air as the other man screamed while he pressed his chainsaw arms against Hiro’s shield. Hiro swung his shield to the side and slammed his foot into the man’s face. A katana extended from his other foot as he swept hard, dismembering the chainsaw man’s hands.
Weapons bloomed from various parts of his limbs, turning the vigilante into some sort of human Swiss Army Knife. Hiro spun his movements into an acrobatic dance of violence, slicing and cutting everything in the narrow corridor.
His opponents had spirit, but they were poorly armed and even more badly trained. Whoever sent these guys must not have considered him enough of a threat to engage the more competent assassins.
It did not take long before blood and dying men were all that surrounded him. Hiro glared at the last man, who was still pointlessly clutching a rifle. The gangster released a crazed war cry, raising his weapon—
The vigilante pushed himself against the wall and kicked the rifle out of the screaming man’s hands. He ducked under yet another wild haymaker before catching the man’s leg. Hiro swung hard and hurled his foe into the wall at full force.
There was an audible cracking sound as the man crumpled to the floor, leaving behind a mess of blood where his skull had shattered against the wall.
Quiet returned as Hiro picked up the rifle from the floor, looking back at the mess he had just created. Disgust stung his heart, but this was no time to consider the moral quandaries of his actions. It was either him or them; they were the ones who gave him no choice but to defend himself.
The vigilante stalked the corridors with his weapon up after grappling to the lowest level, which was still about ten stories from the ground floor. He glanced at the non-functioning lifts before heading for the stairs.
It was only then that he recalled that Ion Heroes Marketing had been liquidised a few weeks ago, which meant a hostage situation was impossible in the first place. Hiro hissed internally, cursing himself for acting without thinking again—
A gloved hand grabbed the exposed muzzle of his weapon from his blindspot, trying to pull him closer.
Hiro let go of the rifle immediately and rolled under the gunshots where his head would have been. He threw his leg far back while supporting his weight with one hand before springing his entire body upwards into a full-powered Capoeira kick.
Sure enough, it connected with whatever had tried to pull off a sneak attack and sent the figure stumbling back.
He pushed his body from the floor, using the momentum to flip around erratically as more gunshots rang out. Two bullets hurtled towards his chest, only to ricochet off a circular shield that he had just generated. Instinct moved faster than logical thought as he lifted the shield just in time, blocking a potential headshot.
Two shots to the chest, one to the head… This criminal is military-trained.
Hiro ducked behind a wall as a man in all black walked into view, aiming his hands forward as though he were holding an invisible rifle. Hiro’s heart pounded, finally realising that his assailant’s hands weren’t wrapped in black gloves. His fingers themselves were tiny black rifle barrels.
That guy must be the leader of the Liberty Brigade.
The footsteps stopped. Hiro didn’t need to look to know that the villain was standing on the other side of the wall, waiting for him to come out. It was a tactical decision on the villain’s part, but it only confirmed Hiro’s suspicions. There was only one exit from this building, and it was right behind the assassin.
Hiro’s suit rumbled as the nanobots turned into mini cloaking panels, rendering him invisible. His heart raced in anticipation. He was vulnerable in this state, but it was a risk he had to take. If the rumours were true, his foe was the type of assassin you could send to kill even the most untouchable ghosts. Best not to tangle with him unnecessarily.
The vigilante moved out of his hiding spot furtively, finally catching a full glimpse of the man. A black tactical vest covered the ironed suit the villain was draped in. On his head were a pair of goggles, presumably to grant him vision in the dark.
Hiro quickened his footsteps, eager to get out of view before his foe got any bright ideas to suddenly switch to infrared vision.
“I felt that.”
Hiro’s blood went cold.
“Going dark? I can still see you.”
Nanobots rushed from the vigilante’s suit to his hands, generating a shield just before a barrage of bullets bounced off the metal. The assassin reached into his coat and tossed something towards the vigilante.
Hiro flung his shield in an attempt to knock it away, but the object stuck itself onto his weapon instead. He widened his eyes in recognition at the pineapple-shaped explosive, before tossing the shield away frantically.
Another explosion shook the building as the sticky grenade blasted the riot shield into smithereens.
Hiro’s heart sank. He had just lost a big chunk of nanobots, which meant that cloaking was no longer an option. There was no choice but to engage the assassin now.
The two men leapt into action.
Hiro ducked under more gunshots as he slid on the ceramic floor. Cold metal greeted his palms as he snatched his rifle and fired it at his enemy.
The assassin pulled up the side of his apparently bulletproof coat, blocking the bullets while staggering forward at the same time. With a growl, he swiped the magazine from the rifle and aimed his fingers at the vigilante again.
Hiro’s ears rang as he moved his head to the side at the last second before grabbing the man’s hand. There was a muffled groan as he twisted hard, dislocating his foe’s wrist.
He gasped as something swept his feet, and he found his neck sandwiched between the assassin’s legs.
Hiro seized his enemy’s hand before he could even think of firing his fingers. The two men struggled on the floor, but the assassin had the vigilante in a firm headlock. Hiro’s vision blurred as his assailant slowly dragged his finger guns towards Hiro’s face.
Rage possessed the vigilante as a dagger formed in his free hand. Hiro released an anguished war cry, stabbing the assassin multiple times in the side of his knee.
Sure enough, the assassin let go. Not like he really had a choice anyway, considering his leg was already disabled at the knee joint.
Hiro shoved the man to the side, panting in exhaustion as he rolled to his feet. Bjarkan Mode had been effective for at least half an hour by now, and he was starting to feel the toll on his body even through the numbing effect of his adrenaline.
The assassin, on the other hand, wasn’t ready to give up yet. He tossed another sticky grenade at the wall, blowing a hole in the side of the building. Hiro flinched with the explosion, and the assassin took the chance to limp out through the hole.
Hiro staggered to the newly formed exit and looked out. Was it over?
A tank round answered that question by ploughing through the lower floor where he was standing, missing him by only a few metres. The entire building shook with the impact, and glass shattered from behind.
Hiro leapt through the hole, deploying his wingsuit as he glided out of the building. He stared incredulously at the vehicle waiting on the ground floor.
That asshole’s got a freaking tank?!
Hiro swerved sharply as another round of artillery barely missed him mid-flight. He clenched his jaw. Just gliding around forever wasn’t a solution; it was only a matter of time before the assassin managed to shoot him down.
It was now or never.
The vigilante swooped upwards again before retracting his wingsuit. Wind slammed into his body as he hurtled towards the tank headfirst like a suicide bomber. Hiro braced himself, turning up Bjarkan Mode to the maximum.
Pain stabbed every bone while agony tore at his muscles, but he willed the discomfort away. After all, a hero is just someone who knows how to hang on for one minute longer.
Bjarkan Mode… One hundred per cent—
Hiro rolled his body along with the momentum, pulling his fist behind him like the previous Number One Hero had always done on TV.
“DETROIT SMASH!”
The man punched into the tank with the force of a falling meteor, feeling the steel crumple like a piece of paper under the maximum power of his suit.
A huge explosion followed closely, sending shockwaves into the forest and blasting the vigilante more than ten kilometres into the air. Hiro’s body tumbled through the clouds, thankfully still protected by a cocoon of massively enhanced nanobots.
He tumbled along the floor after several more minutes of airtime, landing in front of some sort of grocery store.
Hiro groaned as he tried to lift his head, but quickly dropped it again as the exhaustion overwhelmed him. A few shadows blocked the setting evening sun as curious onlookers began to surround the unfamiliar-looking man.
And everything faded to dark.253Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8UmZnMbUKp
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