Hero’s Child C11

Chapter 11

“You… know my name.”

“The personnel details of contracted agencies are included in mission reports,” Blacktan replied evenly, gesturing toward the nearby bench. Though not as massive as Noatis, he was still an imposing figure.

The man with the golden eyes had been trained as a weapon—a killing machine stripped of emotion. Uichan had seen him on the news before: crushing a villain’s skull bare-handed with brutal precision. Yet now, in person, he looked strangely subdued, like a beast restrained by a leash.

“Even if you return to the site, you won’t be able to work anyway,” he said quietly. “If you’re worried about the order, don’t be.”

Uichan didn’t know what to make of that. After a short hesitation, realizing the man had no intention of leaving, he could only nod.

“If it’s just for a while… fine. But if the chief calls, I’ll have to go right away.”

Tapping his radio at his waist, Uichan led the way to the bench. A large shadow followed. It was late, but perhaps it was time he spoke with the man who might—just might—be the father of his child.

They sat side by side in silence. Blacktan merely watched as Uichan fidgeted with the thick-rimmed glasses in his hands.

“That night,” the man suddenly said, breaking the stillness.

“Did you make it back safely?”

“If you mean the last dispatch… yes, the work wrapped up faster than expected.”

For two months, the Big Three Heroes had hunted Under Doom relentlessly. When that yielded no results, they changed tactics. La Épée was the first to abandon brute force. Then Noatis. Lastly, Blacktan.

The three had placed a bounty on Under Doom’s head—one higher than the total bounties on In the Hell combined. The condition: bring him in alive and uninjured. Each mark found on his body would halve the reward.

And so, bounty hunters and heroes alike had begun tearing through villain organizations like wildfire. Yet even among them, the Big Three’s obsession stood apart. Whenever they had downtime, they would literally sift through alleys and trash bins.

Why were they so desperate to find Under Doom? Was it because, upon realizing what had happened—that they had lain with a villain, and a man at that—they couldn’t bear the shame and sought to kill him? Uichan truly didn’t understand.

He had even once caught Blacktan glancing into a side alley after a mission, as though searching for something—or someone.

Why does he think I’d be hiding in a trash can?

Did he really look that filthy? Uichan scratched his nose awkwardly at the thought. As he toyed with his glasses again, a large hand suddenly reached toward his own. Startled, he looked sideways. The man’s eyes were fixed on his hand, focused on something intently.

Before he knew it, Blacktan was pressing his thumb into the spot between Uichan’s thumb and index finger—an acupoint. He must’ve heard somewhere that it relieved stomach discomfort. The gesture was clumsy but oddly careful.

“You don’t have to do that, Blacktan.”

“I heard that in Eastern medicine, pressing this point can help,” he murmured. “But… your hands are too small for the proper hold.”

“…They’re not that small. And—ow—it hurts a little.”

The pressure stopped immediately. The slight jolt of surprise that ran through his fingers almost made Uichan laugh. He couldn’t help wondering what kind of expression a man like him wore when caught off guard.

When he looked up, their faces were suddenly close—too close. Sometime during their conversation, his body had turned toward Blacktan’s. His brows were faintly furrowed, his face taut with awkward concern—as if he had genuinely tried to be gentle and was now flustered that he had failed.

Taking advantage of the pause, Uichan quickly slipped his hand free.

“It wasn’t that bad. I feel fine now.”

“…Do you often have indigestion?”

“No. It’s just once in a while—not like this all the time.”

Blacktan looked down at him, lips parting as though to say more, then closing again. It was strange—this towering hero, hesitant before someone so ordinary.

“…Still, I worry. You’re… small.”

At least he hadn’t said weak. Uichan bit back a retort, his hands fidgeting in his lap. Moments like this made it too easy to mistake simple concern for something deeper. If Blacktan ever learned he was Under Doom, how would he react then? Was he searching for him to kill him—or for something else?

Uichan exhaled softly, trying to shut the thought out. But memories came, unbidden.

In his mind, this man wasn’t calm and restrained as he was now. He saw instead the image of him drenched in sweat, his face drawn tight with feral intensity—his movements rough, his breath scorching. It had been suffocating, terrifying, like being devoured by a beast that had caught him by the throat.

Darkness had come and gone in flashes. Every time he opened his eyes, he’d been tangled with all three of them again.

And truth be told… it felt unfair.

I was the only one on the receiving end, wasn’t I?

Surely the three hadn’t been with each other—that meant all of their attention had been on him alone. How else could he explain the deep, bone-tired ache that had lingered for days? Especially—

Down there.

When he’d stumbled into the shower afterward, his lower body had been a mess—slick, trembling, leaking milky fluid. He didn’t know who had dressed him, but he was thankful no one had seen him in that state. Even so, he’d been bedridden with a fever for three days.

“I’m… not that small,” Uichan murmured, scratching the bridge of his nose in embarrassment—a nervous habit of his when lost for words.

“I see. Well… it’s all relative, I suppose. To you, perhaps it seems that way.”

“It’s just that you’re big, Blacktan.”

“Even so, you look small to me.”

The difference in their build was obvious even from afar. But Uichan prided himself on being strong and sturdy. People might call him lean, say his bones were too fine or that he looked like he lived on air, but he knew he could hold his own in a fight.

Then he felt that gaze again—sharp, searching. When he looked up, Blacktan’s eyes were moving over him, almost clinically, as if checking for injuries. Once satisfied, the man suddenly extended a hand.

And then—crack.

A faint ripple of darkness unfurled from his fingertips.

“My companion has been wanting to see you,” he said simply.

“…What?”

“He took a liking to you the last time he saw you.”

From the man’s hand, a plume of black mist rose and spilled across the ground. It swelled, deepened, and took form—a massive shadow, coiling and alive. A sleek tail lashed out and wrapped around Uichan’s ankle. Just as the chill crawled up his spine, the creature emerged from the dark.

A black panther, its pelt patterned with faint spots of shadow and gold. Its golden eyes gleamed with the same hue as its master’s. The beast’s colossal body bowed low, exuding the wild scent of a deep, ancient forest. Those golden eyes softened as they fell upon Uichan, pupils widening in a strangely pleased way.

It padded closer and nuzzled its head against his knees.

Purr—

“…He wanted to see me?”

We’ve never met before.

Blacktan gave a small nod, face unreadable. The great cat pressed harder, and Uichan instinctively leaned back until his shoulders hit the bench. Seeing this, the man reached forward and grasped the panther’s head firmly.

“Nell.”

His voice rumbled low from deep in his chest—a sound halfway between speech and a growl. The panther froze, then drew back at once. Just from hearing its name, the intelligent beast seemed to understand it had gone too far.

When the man’s hand fell away, the panther hesitated before lowering its face again, this time gently resting its cheek against Uichan’s knee. Its nose twitched, then slowly drifted upward toward his stomach. Curiosity filled its amber eyes.

“Oh… easy there, it’s okay,” Uichan murmured.

He recalled something he’d once read in a book on Pregnancy and Birth—that animals could detect subtle hormonal changes in humans. Perhaps that was why it was drawn to him now. The panther seemed to sense the life inside him; how else would it know to nuzzle his belly so intently?

It blinked slowly, as if in greeting, then closed its eyes halfway, rubbing its head softly against him again. When it pushed too close, Blacktan reached between them and gently guided the beast back.

“It’s likely reacting to my scent,” he said.

As the panther prowled nearby, restless, his large hand reached toward Uichan again. Uichan flinched, and the man instinctively froze as well. For a moment, even the great beast seemed to watch them in silence.

“What… scent?” Uichan asked cautiously.

Did he know something? He forced his tone to stay even. Blacktan drew his hand back, eyes still focused intently on Uichan’s.

“From the last site,” he said finally.

“……”

“Some of the equipment issued there was mixed with Litan gear. You were carrying one of our small artillery units.”

He remembered. They’d been tasked with breaking down a reinforced concrete wall at the entrance, and Litan had provided a batch of heavy weapons for the subcontractors to use. Trust Uichan’s luck to turn even that into near disaster.

“So that means…”

“Yes,” Blacktan replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “That was mine. I’d enhanced it myself—it must have had quite a kick.”