Chapter 64: Blood-Thread Villain - Bitvine①

I was eating the fried chicken Sudama had made when the doorbell rang.

I started to get up, but Sudama waved me down with a "No need, no need," so I let her handle it.
If it turned out to be a delivery, the poor guy might have keeled over from shock at suddenly seeing a fox-eared loli in front of him.

In the end, it was someone we knew, so I just kept eating fried chicken while handling it.

"I’ve got a proposal for you, sir."

"It’s nothing good. You don’t need to listen, Inori."

Ratlord, back again, lowered himself into a seat in the living room and bowed his head.
Mio didn’t bother hiding his exasperation as he warned me.

I washed down the fried chicken with barley tea and answered him.

"Wasn’t Ratlord supposed to be your cute junior?"

"Of course he’s cute—so cute I could just melt him down."

"I have no idea what kind of emotion that’s supposed to be."

Is it like that saying, “So cute you wouldn’t mind putting them in your eye”?
Or like, “So cute you want to eat them up”?
Or is it simply, “So cute you want to melt them into sludge and kill them,” pure murderous intent?

"Speaking as a retiree, let me give you some advice: nothing good comes from getting involved with Public Security. I think you should back out while you still can."

"Of course I’ll take that advice to heart. But if I ever feel like pulling back, you’ll be the one dragging me out, right?"

Mio glared at me, his eyes dripping with suspicion.

"Womanizer."

"Huh? No way, right?"

"No, he’s a womanizer, sir."

"Don’t team up on me."

What’s with these two? A moment ago they were all prickly with each other, and now they’re suddenly best buddies?
Don’t strengthen your bond by making me the common enemy.

Ratlord finally got down to business.

"Given your proven ability to win over one villain after another, we’d like to ask you to handle Bitvine’s rehabilitation."

"I’ll ignore that first part for now. Bitvine, huh."

I didn’t bother pointing out the insult of calling me some kind of serial villain-flirter.
Hard to deny it when I’m living in a house packed with villains.
Still, for the record—it’s not me chasing them down, it’s them coming to me.

Bitvine’s an old-timer.
One of the earliest villains, around the same generation as Ironclad.

He was caught back in the day by Raiden, and unlike Flux, there’s been no word of him ever breaking out.
…Not that I’ve actually heard any official report of Flux breaking out either, so if they say it’s been covered up, I’d have to just nod along.
Mio once mentioned he was wanted, but I never saw a wanted poster.
Maybe it was just some internal watchlist inside Public Security.

"Wasn’t Bitvine one of the more decent ones? Can’t you people handle him yourselves?"

"If that counts as decent, then D.E.T.O.N.A.T.E. must be decent too."

"That’s going way too far."

Don’t compare anyone to that lunatic who somehow manages to live here without taking up more space than a home appliance.

Ratlord let out a deep sigh.

"He just won’t listen. But if even you, who managed to have conversations with D.E.T.O.N.A.T.E., give it a try… Well, otherwise Bitvine’s going to be executed."

"What happened to human rights in this country?"

Ratlord sighed even deeper.
Guess this sort of thing happens a lot.
Maybe I should say it again.
What happened to human rights in this country?

"Well, I do know Bitvine. Meeting him once isn’t a big deal. Maybe I can even hear more about Delta."

This time, it was Mio who sighed.
He was probably thinking I was shouldering another headache.
I’m the one who actually suffers for it, yet he still takes it to heart as if it were his own problem. What a fine friend.
Sure, part of it’s because it makes his job of guarding me harder—but if he’s determined to protect me, then that just shows he genuinely worries about me.

Ratlord, unusually, made a clear grimace.

"I heard you even managed to befriend that insufferable Haze Fog, sir."

"Oh? You don’t like him? That’s rare—you always seemed like the type to get along with anybody."

"He just advanced through life way too fast. I can’t help but envy him. If we’re talking about being good at everything, it’s him, not me. I could never measure up to him."

"So, like a rival?"

"Hah. I was never even on the same playing field. He’s an elite among elites."

Mio too had once used the word “elite” when speaking of Haze Fog.

Back then, it was a contrast between Mio, who had worked in Public Security as an ordinary human, and Haze Fog, who had worked as a gifted ability-user.

But in this case, Ratlord himself was also an ability-user.
So it must mean Haze Fog had been treated as an even greater “elite,” standing above others like him.

Ratlord clearly didn’t have fond memories of Haze Fog.
He clicked his tongue with a sharp, rodent-like "Tch," then spat out his words.

"And yet the bastard went and lost his wife—blowing it where it mattered most. That’s what happens when you live your life half-assed."

"Ah, I heard she’d passed, but… murdered? By Public Security?"

"Even they aren’t that heartless, sir. But I heard it was revenge, from grudges he earned through the job. If she was truly that important, he should’ve kept her by his side. Doing this kind of work and not realizing that? Pathetic."

"…I see."

So Ratlord himself had chosen to keep his distance, to protect those he cared about.
Doesn’t sound like a particularly happy way to live.
But for someone who looked like a mutant at first glance, there probably hadn’t been many other options.

"By rehabilitation, you mean turning him into an assassin?"

"That’s what Public Security would prefer, yeah."

In today’s Japan, an ability-user had almost no way to live decently without being tied to Public Security.

I’d been attacked by villains time and again, and they had to have noticed my regeneration ability—yet somehow, I’d never been approached.
Now that I think about it, that’s pretty abnormal.

The first one to reach out to me was Ratlord, but even then, he never revealed he was Public Security.
Sure, if he was on an undercover assignment, he couldn’t just blurt it out… but the fact remained: they knew about me.

So why hadn’t Public Security, who complained constantly about being short on personnel, tried to recruit me?

Wait… am I really that useless?
I mean, I don’t have much combat ability, and I sure as hell don’t want to kill anyone.

But wasn’t there a rumor that if Public Security didn’t want an ability-user as an employee, they’d just eliminate them?

If they’re leaving me alone because I’m “harmless”… that doesn’t really fit, considering all the trouble that comes looking for me.
I don’t rampage myself, but plenty of people rampage because of me.

…Guess I’ll ask about that later. For now, Bitvine.

"I doubt I can live up to those expectations. But I’d like to talk to him. Maybe even have another round with Delta."

Bitvine was a villain.
Which meant there had to be a time when Delta had tempted him down that path.

Another round of indirect debate-battling, then.

"Ratlord, you want some food too? Sudama’s fried chicken is the best."

"Haa…"

That half-hearted sigh—I’ll take that as an opening.
If he didn’t immediately refuse, that counts as consent.

Before I could even signal her, Sudama had already set out another bowl for Ratlord—fried chicken, miso soup, and kinpira burdock all lined up neatly on the table.

What she laid down beside them was a pair of disposable chopsticks. Uh oh, looks like we were out of regular ones.

"We’re short on chopsticks, huh. Guess I’ll pick up some at the 100-yen shop next time."

"Mm. Did you know there’s a 300-yen shop too? They’ve got chopsticks with adorable patterns."

"If you’ve already got your eye on some, just buy them. I’ll cover it."

"Fool! I was saying we should pick them out together!"

"Ahhh. Got it. Sometime soon, then."

"Honestly!"

She could already see through me—that my “sometime” had about the same certainty as “I’ll go if I can.”

I’d love to make the time, but I was busy.
Never underestimate the workload of a grad student; you get squeezed from every possible direction.
I was even grading seminar students’ reports. At this point, I deserved a paycheck.

And that was with people cutting me a lot of slack for still being underage.

After swallowing down some rice, I looked over at Ratlord, who still hadn’t picked up his chopsticks.

"You avoiding something? Any foods you don’t like?"

"I’m omnivorous."

"Don’t eat the dishes themselves, alright?"

Ratlord gave a sharp "Tch-tch" and finally took up his chopsticks. Satisfied, I went back to sipping my miso soup.