Chapter 65: Blood-Thread Villain - Bitvine②

The place Ratlord had directed me to turned out to be an office building.

Officially, it was called the Crisis Management Center.

Pretty blunt, if you ask me. Supposedly it functioned as some kind of disaster-response agency.

While I stood there staring at the sign out front, Mio suddenly appeared beside me in human form. He was so slippery I’d long since gotten used to him popping up without warning.

"I can’t follow you past this point."

"Huh? Oh yeah? You mean emotionally, or ability-wise?"

"Both, I’d say."

Even when I told him I didn’t need him, Mio always insisted on guarding me. Whenever he left my side, like during the Usuzumi incident, it was only reluctantly—and never without warning me first.

"Don’t forget, I’m a wanted man—by Public Security’s assassins, to be precise."

"Ahh."

So that’s what he meant by “wanted.” Public Security. Figures. He never showed up on police bulletins or the news.

"I’m good at hiding, but they’ve got people who are good at finding. Honestly, I’ve probably already been found, and they’re just letting it slide for now. Most likely thanks to you, Inori."

"And how the hell am I involved in that?"

Mio shrugged.

"You’ll figure it out eventually. I can’t explain it myself, sorry."

"That’s all I needed to hear."

So there really was a reason I wasn’t constantly being harassed by Public Security. Mio winked at me with practiced ease.

"Anyway, if I barged into Public Security, it’d turn into all-out war♡"

"Could you not say something that violent in such a sexy tone?"

From here on, I was basically on my own. Ratlord wasn’t my ally—he was Public Security. If Omokage were here, he’d probably side with me, but honestly, that would only complicate things. I’d rather he stayed out of it.

"Still, if I hear you screaming, I’ll rush right in."

"Nah, don’t bother. Could just mean I got stuck yelling some giant punchline."

Mio furrowed his brow, about to speak, but I cut him off.

"If I’m not back in an hour, come in after me."

"Alright."

I wasn’t without a sense of danger myself. Half of Public Security was basically an evil organization at this point. Considering how many villains they’d churned out and how many ability users they’d eliminated, that’s the only conclusion you could draw. Sure, they maintained peace—but I had no desire to be erased in the name of it.

An hour should be fine. Pretty sure I can’t get killed that many times in sixty minutes. Probably.

Mio stepped back a few paces and said:

"Please, just come back safe."

"I’ll do my best."

With that, I pushed my way into Public Security’s headquarters—or maybe just a branch office. Who knew. No looking back. An hour’s shorter than you think.

At reception, I gave my name and was quickly shown inside. Everything went smoothly, and before long, I was face-to-face with the person I’d come to see.

When I opened the door to the designated room, she was there, just as I remembered.

Bitvine—a red-haired woman with dark skin.

She was balancing on one arm in a handstand, her back to the door. Not a joke—she was training. Prisoner training, maybe. Well, she was a villain, so it wasn’t surprising they treated her like one.

She was tall. Close to two meters—towering over most grown men.

I didn’t know her exact age, but she couldn’t be far from mine. Probably around my age. Oh right, I was still technically a minor.

She must’ve heard the door open. Bitvine dropped out of the handstand but kept her back to me. She snatched up a towel from the floor and roughly dried her head with it.

Even if this was a Public Security assignment, she probably saw it as me barging in uninvited. Guess I should be the one to greet her.

"Sorry to drop in on you. If you need time to get yourself together, I can step back out."

With the towel hanging around her neck, Bitvine ran her fingers through her hair before finally turning toward me. Long bangs fell across her face, covering the entire left side.

Normally, I make a point of looking people in the eye. But this time, my gaze slipped downward on its own.

Her waist was slim, but her chest was far too big in proportion.

And she was tall to begin with.

No way normal clothing sizes would fit her. Must be a pain.

I even worried whether she was eating properly. Girls her age sometimes pushed themselves with reckless diets.

A chest that size—yeah, I really had to keep myself in check, force my eyes not to drift there.

With her height, if I lifted my gaze only halfway, it would stop on her chest before reaching her face. People naturally notice what’s big.

So I pulled a move like D.E.T.O.N.A.T.E., spinning my eyes around to make it less obvious.

Didn’t look like I needed to worry about her starving herself, though.

Bitvine wore a cropped top that bared her navel, and her abs were sharply defined. Her training was paying off.

Iron handcuffs clasped her wrists.

The chain from the cuffs was fixed to the wall.

Worse than being treated like a prisoner—like she was some wild beast.

From what I knew, Bitvine was a fighter.

She could manipulate blood, using blood flow to boost her physical abilities.

Cool—and pretty damn useful.

The instant her eyes landed on me, Bitvine broke into a broad grin.

Her sharp canines stood out.

"Ohh, it’s you! I’ve been dying to see you!"

Her tone was bright. She actually remembered me.

It made sense I’d remember the villain who attacked me, but the idea that she’d remember me back—that was unexpected.

"If that’s really how you feel, I’m glad. But if it’s just because you wanna mess with me, I’ll take that back."

"Kya-ha! No way I’d do that! We’re buddies, aren’t we?"

I wasn’t sure what kind of “buddies” she thought we were, but she clearly felt some affection toward me.

Bitvine, I figured, was a different breed than Mio.

She leaned more toward the biker-gang type—rough around the edges.

But I liked gals. I loved how talkative they were, how open they were about their thoughts.

"I’ve been wanting to get closer to you for ages—ever since I first drank your blood!"

"You’re not thinking of me as food, are you?"

"I ain’t no vampire! Kya-ha-ha-ha!"

She was the one who made it sound like vampire talk, though.

As she laughed out loud, those canines flashed again.

Honestly, if someone called her a vampire, you’d probably just nod along. She looked the part.

The dark skin threw off the cliché image, sure, but with red hair, red eyes, and that kind of beauty… yeah. I was weak to beautiful women. Made things complicated.

"If we’re gonna get along, at least tell me your name. I’m Katagiri Inori."

"Inoritch! Cute name! I’m Tsumugi."

"Tsumu-chan, huh? That’s cute too."

"You get it!? My grandpa gave it to me, and I love how it doesn’t feel outdated at all."

So she was a grandpa’s girl.

Either way, good on her for loving her family. In this day and age, cutting ties wasn’t easy. If you could stay on good terms, you were better off—especially as a minor.

"So, Tsumu-chan, why’d you become a villain?"

"Thought the world might get better that way. Looking back, I was way too reckless. Totally regret it now!"

"Wow, that’s admirable! Being able to reflect on yourself takes real strength."

"Kya-ha, you’re laying it on thick! Thanks a bunch!"

Even with both hands locked in heavy iron cuffs, Tsumu-chan still managed to throw up a double peace sign.

"But why exactly is Public Security treating you like a problem child?"

The more we talked, the less I understood why she was considered dangerous. She’d been making sense the whole time, and my impression so far was just that she was a good kid.

Tsumu-chan puffed out her cheeks and stuck out her lips—a textbook anime pout. On her, though, it didn’t look silly. She was striking enough to pull it off like a two-dimensional beauty come to life.

"’Cause their way of doing things ain’t gonna make the world better."

"What kind of world are you aiming for, then?"

"A world where people like us—the ones with powers—can work for the sake of others. That’d be nice, right?"

Honestly, she really did come across as a genuinely good girl.

It’s cliché, but yeah—otaku boys are weak to gals like her. I could already feel myself getting steamrolled.

"We’ve got abilities others don’t, so we should use them to help. Like me—my blood production’s super fast, so I could make tons of transfusion packs. And if I studied medicine, maybe I could even pull off special surgeries."

That was one ambitious dream.

If I were the one hiring, she’d pass the interview on the spot. Public Security clearly had different standards.

"I could probably make transfusion packs too, but I doubt that’d be very ethical. It’d turn into Mad Max: Fury Road real quick… nah, bet that reference doesn’t land with you…"

"Isn’t it kinda like milking a cow?"

"Yeah, that’s definitely not the comparison you wanna go with."

Cows were livestock. A girl her age shouldn’t be throwing around milk metaphors so casually.

My eyes almost drifted to her chest again, so I quickly rolled them elsewhere to cover it up.

Tsumu-chan grinned, flashing those canines once more.

"But I’m not that smart, so being a doctor’s out. Maybe I could swing nurse level? And I wouldn’t even need a needle for blood tests—just a lick and I’d know your health status!"

"Do you have any idea how that would look?"

A checkup like that would just attract a horde of perverts hoping to get their blood licked by a cute girl.

"And it’s not just me. Other ability users have handy powers too, right? If we all worked together, don’t you think the world would get way better?"

I couldn’t bring myself to give her an honest answer. Instead, a laugh slipped out—half sigh, half chuckle.

Her ideals were too bright. I wanted to believe in them too.

But knowing what I knew about the world, I couldn’t just nod and say, you’re right.

The road to her dream world was blocked by mountains of obstacles. I could name a dozen of them without even trying.

Difficulties aren’t supposed to be excuses not to try. But they make for very convenient excuses nonetheless.

Public Security’s weary old men must’ve been at their wits’ end dealing with her. Ratlord, especially. Even I was struggling a little—and I’m basically an old man on the inside.