Hero’s Child C33

Chapter 33

When Uichan tried to stand, Hyde was already moving toward him. The man crouched down until they were at eye level. Under the faint light, Hyde’s face came into clear view—his lashes long, his features sharp and almost sculpted. The way the shadows traced the contours of his face made him look like a statue carved by a perfectionist hand.

He was simply sitting there, watching Uichan. And yet, even in that stillness, he was strikingly beautiful. Maybe it was the darkness—maybe it was Hyde himself.

“Well, well. Uichan’s actually called for me. Guess the sun’s rising in the west tomorrow.”

“…Didn’t think you’d come,” Uichan said quietly.

“Why not?”

Hyde rested his elbows on his knees and propped his chin on one hand. His tone was light, almost teasing, and there wasn’t a trace of irritation on his face. Maybe he didn’t know about Mother Ship yet. But Uichan wasn’t so sure. He looked up at Hyde’s eyes—eyes that shimmered faintly like the Big Dipper itself.

“You’re never this late.”

“Well… I had things to take care of. Just finished when your call came in. You’ve never summoned me before, not once in your life. So of course I had to show up. For you to actually reach out—must’ve been urgent, huh?”

“…”

“So tell me. What was so important you had to drag me out in the middle of the night?”

Hyde uncrossed his arms and extended a hand toward him. Uichan tensed as the hand approached, the solid wall at his back leaving nowhere to retreat. That large, pale hand brushed lightly against his cheek.

“If it’s hard to say,” Hyde murmured, voice low and smooth, “want me to guess for you?”

The light was behind him, throwing his face into shadow, but his eyes gleamed like twin stars. They caught Uichan entirely, leaving him unable to breathe properly.

Hyde didn’t not know. That had been Uichan’s mistake.

Everything about In the Hell—every secret, every whisper—passed through Hyde’s hands, like pieces of a puzzle he’d already assembled. The brothers were nothing more than pawns moving in the palm of his hand, forming neat rows at his silent command.

They said Hyde had transcended the limits of power, but Uichan had never dared to imagine what his true limits were. No one knew how many abilities he possessed. One of them, however, was known—his illusion ability, Stage Domain: Puppet Dance.

Within that realm, he could craft any stage he wished. Those trapped inside would experience whatever emotions he dictated. The Hero Association had classified his ability as mental-type and placed a bounty on him. They weren’t wrong—Hyde could control people.

Uichan couldn’t even guess how many eyes and ears Hyde had scattered throughout the city. But one thing was certain—his surveillance network rivaled even that of Mother Ship.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t be speaking now with such quiet certainty.

“So what is it?” Hyde asked softly. “Did Mother Ship beg you to save her? Or did she throw you away to protect her little pet?”

“Why do you always have to say it like that?” Uichan snapped. “You know Mother’s not that kind of person.”

“Well, true,” Hyde said mildly. “She loves you about as much as she loves her own children. She wouldn’t abandon you just to avoid punishment.”

His tone was lower than usual—almost cold.

He knew. Of course he did. The incident at the City Hall had been too public. Dozens of heroes had seen Mother Ship, and Uichan had gone head-to-head with La Épée herself. There was no way Hyde hadn’t heard.

“I was about to summon her myself,” Hyde continued. “Guess you just beat me to it. But tell me, Uichan…”

His knuckles brushed Uichan’s temple, pushing back a few strands of hair. The motion was gentle, his tone deceptively calm, but the air between them felt heavy—sharp.

“You knew I’d interrogate her, and you still called me here? Weren’t you afraid I’d string her up and peel her skin off?”

“…”

“Strange,” Hyde murmured. “I always try to settle things through conversation. Even when it’s interrogation. Even when it’s punishment. And yet you make it so hard to stay reasonable. I gave you an exception, didn’t I?”

Uichan flinched at that. His expression faltered for a split second before he clenched his fists tight.

“…Guess Podo’s smarter than I thought,” Hyde said with a quiet laugh. “She always acts up when she knows I won’t touch you.”

“She’s still young,” Uichan said quickly. “She only did it because I wanted that artifact, not because she was trying to rebel. If you think about it, it’s really my fault—”

“You’re defending her?” Hyde cut in, voice dropping.

He laughed softly, the sound vibrating against Uichan’s skin as his hand brushed his ear. Then, abruptly, he erased all expression from his face and opened his arms. Uichan hesitated only a moment before stepping forward and letting Hyde pull him in.

“There,” Hyde murmured. “No matter what’s going on, you still remember your manners. Been a while, hasn’t it?”

Uichan thought about explaining himself further, but it would only make things worse. All he could do was hope that Hyde’s anger would cool, that his mercy might spark—just this once. And perhaps it did; Hyde’s voice softened ever so slightly.

“I told you before,” he said, “the rules exist to protect you—and the others. Think about Jekyll Jack. Remember what happened when he broke one?”

“…”

“Of course, it doesn’t exactly please me to imagine doing that to Mother Ship or Podo.”

As soon as Uichan lifted his head, Hyde extended a hand. The gesture was simple, almost polite, but there was weight in it.

Uichan hesitated. His hand, bandaged and burned, was gloved on one side. He offered the uninjured one instead. Hyde took it gently, tracing his thumb across his palm.

“Still soft,” he murmured. “Haven’t changed a bit.”

Then, almost under his breath, he added something too quiet for Uichan to catch. The tone was low, wistful, like a confession swallowed by the dark.

After a long pause, Hyde asked lazily, “It’s been what—four years since we met?”

“Since I was eighteen,” Uichan replied. “So… yeah.”

“You’ve grown up. Become a man.”

He said it simply, but the words carried more than they should have. Four years of shared silence, hidden missions, and fractured loyalty sat between them like smoke. Hyde was still unreadable—always had been, always would be. But Uichan had learned one thing: he could hide a knife behind a smile and make you thank him for it.

Still…

Tonight, he had to make Hyde spare Mother Ship and Podo. Otherwise, by dawn, both would be hanging upside down, their skin stripped raw. Hyde didn’t show mercy, not even for children—and Podo would be no exception.

“…Hyde,” Uichan said carefully. “About tonight—”

“You want to save Mother Ship?”

The hand toying with his fingers stilled. Uichan felt a tremor of unease crawl up his spine.

“In a way, this all happened because of me,” he said. “They knew I was chasing Aengak, so Podo probably thought she was helping. Punishing her right away seems unfair.”

“And Mother Ship?” Hyde’s voice was quiet, but sharp.

Uichan couldn’t answer. He shook his head. His hands had clenched without him noticing—Hyde unfolded them, pressing lightly against his knuckles.

“Mercy isn’t hard,” Hyde said. “But it needs a reason.”

“A reason…?”

“Simple. You erase their memories. Both of them. Make them forget they ever broke a rule. Forget enough that they can deny it even under questioning.”

Uichan’s eyes dropped to the floor. In the past, he would have agreed without hesitation. But not now.

He couldn’t use Reversal anymore. The babies were shrinking.

When he didn’t respond, Hyde leaned his elbow on his knee again and rested his chin in his hand.

“Don’t like that idea either?”

“I’ll make sure they stay quiet,” Uichan said quickly. “I’ll talk to them. Convince them. But I can’t erase—”

“Can’t this, can’t that,” Hyde interrupted. “Then tell me, Uichan. What can I do?”

Rewriting memories was no small feat. Even for Uichan, it required precise focus—peeling open a person’s mind and rearranging neurons one by one. A mistake could leave them blank, hollow, or missing entire years.

But Hyde didn’t know his current condition. To him, Uichan’s refusal might as well be defiance.

“…I’ll apologize before everyone,” Uichan said. “Mother Ship and I both. We’ll ask for forgiveness.”

“Jekyll Jack hung upside down for a month just for skipping a meeting without telling me. Think that was fair?”

Fairness. That was always Hyde’s excuse. Exceptions bred chaos, chaos bred cracks, and even the strongest organization could crumble.

When Uichan hesitated again, Hyde chuckled and pulled him closer by the wrist, tsking softly as he folded the loose seam of Uichan’s sleeve. It happened to be the gloved arm—but he said nothing.

“Well,” Hyde said after a pause, “there are other ways to pay a price. If you don’t want them punished, you can take their place. Make it worth my while.”

“…Like what?” Uichan asked warily.

Hyde smiled faintly. “A secret, maybe. Between us. Something just ours.”

“How would that even count as payment?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” Hyde tilted his head. “You’re hiding something from me, aren’t you, Uichan?”

“…”

His heart began to pound violently. Had Hyde seen his prenatal record? Or had someone followed him to the hospital with Rion? But that couldn’t be—Hyde had forbidden anyone from spying on him.

“What… am I supposedly hiding?”

“La Épée.”

Hyde’s fingers smoothed the other sleeve, just as carefully as before. The touch of his skin against Uichan’s wrist sent a strange sensation rippling through him—something hot, prickling, almost electric.

“What about him?” Uichan asked, voice tight.