Hero’s Child C27

Chapter 27

Bang—!

The blazing restraint cable snapped backward, then boomeranged toward him again. Uichan hurled whatever rooftop debris he could find in La Épée’s direction. As the man deflected the flying objects with his forearm, Uichan seized the moment to bolt.

But the pain in his abdomen was intensifying. He clutched his lower stomach, breath hitching.
“Just… a little longer, kids.”

Blacktan and Noatis were already formidable enough, but La Épée was on another level entirely. As a natural-type Esper, he could summon wind and thunder at will—if he was using restraint cables instead of elemental force, it meant he wanted to capture Uichan alive, no matter the injuries it took.

Uichan’s instincts screamed—he twisted sharply, just as another flaming restraint lashed from the left. He struck it with his fist—

Clang—!

—but collided instead with La Épée’s icy knuckles. Shards of frost burst outward. His hands were wrapped in solid ice, radiating a deadly chill. Every time Uichan reached to wipe his memory, La Épée retreated instantly, narrowly avoiding his touch.

“Think it over again,” La Épée said, voice cool. “If you surrender now, I can make it painless.”

“I don’t do painless erasures,” Uichan shot back.

La Épée chuckled at the retort. Reeling his cable back in, he wrapped it around his fingers again. The restraint was now glowing red-hot, radiating molten heat—the longer it burned, the more viciously it scorched. Once bound, villains would scream until their throats bled.

“When you’ve worked as a Hero long enough, curiosity starts to creep in,” La Épée continued conversationally. “Heroes have ability codes etched into their bodies. But sometimes, I find those same codes in villains, too. Makes me wonder…”

“……”

“Does Under Doom have a Hero’s code buried somewhere under his skin?”

It was a vile question. In this age, heroes who fell often became villains, and half the villains on the wanted lists still bore remnants of their old hero codes. But to suggest finding one in Under Doom’s body—it wasn’t just mockery, it was a taunt, a probe into his true identity.

“Well, if you don’t, that’s understandable,” La Épée added with a faint smile. “You’re no Hero, after all.”

He lunged again. Their fists clashed repeatedly—neither side gaining the upper hand, neither yielding. Sparks and frost filled the air.

But Uichan could feel his stamina draining fast. Cold sweat trickled down his spine. A sharp, stabbing pain tore through his abdomen again and again, slicing like a blade from within.

If this kept up, he’d lose control of his powers.

He turned and ran. Every ounce of strength, every bit of energy went into moving as fast as his body would allow. But La Épée was relentless, close behind, his cable snapping through the air like a viper.

The breaking point came sooner than expected. Mid-leap across a rooftop, Uichan’s legs gave out. His body collapsed, and the fiery restraint whipped past just inches above his head.

Swiish—!

Then—a flash of silver. Thin, razor-sharp daggers shot through the air like rain, aimed straight at La Épée. Uichan looked up—Mother Ship’s wooden doll, the same one that had carried Podo away, had returned to attack.

“Protesting for me now, Mother Ship? What’s one puppet supposed to accomplish?”

La Épée batted the daggers aside effortlessly. But the doll persisted, attacking again and again, buying precious seconds. Uichan forced himself up and steadied his breath.

He could flee now—but instead, he slammed his palm to the ground with all his might. The rooftop shuddered violently. La Épée staggered, taking a step back. Uichan turned to run—

“Ugh!”

—but a sudden wave of pain ripped through him, breaking his focus. His power flickered and vanished. That momentary lapse was all it took.

Swiish—!

The restraint cable darted toward him like a hunting wolf. For a split second, Uichan thought he saw La Épée’s eyes widen—perhaps realizing too late what was about to happen. He reached out, maybe to retract it—

—but the restraint had already sunk its fangs into Uichan’s leg, tightening with brutal force. His body lurched sideways, balance lost, the world tilting under him.

Still clutching the wooden box tightly to his chest, Uichan plummeted from the fifteen-story rooftop.

La Épée reached the railing in seconds, peering down. His brow furrowed. The tangled pipes and filth-ridden alley below showed no sign of a body. Blood streaks trailed into the darkness—then abruptly vanished, as if erased from existence.

Half a severed restraint cable lay limp at the alley’s mouth.

La Épée dropped down lightly, crouched beside the bloodstains, and dipped his fingers into them before pressing them to his tongue.

“…I only meant to scare him.”

He dabbed the blood again, tasting. Behind him, a shadow rose, tall and cautious. La Épée smiled without turning.

“The man I sent to keep an eye on Uichan shows up here himself? Odd.”

The newcomer hesitated—it was Bae Gyohoon, La Épée’s sidekick. He’d been assigned to monitor Uichan just hours ago.

“Well?” La Épée’s voice was soft, dangerous.

“…There was an incident.”

“What kind of incident.”

“…A black panther attacked me, sir. Bit me all over.”

“And?”

“It wouldn’t let go. I had no chance to break free. I escaped eventually—but by then, I’d lost sight of him. I went back to his home, but… the nerd had rigged up some bizarre security system. Couldn’t get in. My apologies, sir…”

Bae Gyohoon looked like hell—his sharp suit shredded to ribbons, hair wild, and blood seeping through torn sleeves. He spoke with a defeated honesty.

“I lost him completely. The moment Uichan left his house, the panther appeared and—he was gone. I couldn’t recover the trail.”

La Épée had been idly toying with the blood on his hand the whole time, but at those words, his movement stopped. His gray eyes shifted toward Gyohoon. The sidekick froze, then vanished in a blur of panic, swallowed by the shadows.

The alley fell silent, the wind whispering through the garbage-strewn passage.

“…Exactly.”

La Épée tilted his head back, gazing up at the cliff-like silhouette of the Cheongsa Building. A faint sigh slipped from his lips.

“One bad order, and I end up the monster.”

I even hurt the kid.

He flicked his fingers. The scattered blood at his feet coalesced into droplets and rose into the air. He caught them and, without hesitation, swallowed every trace—licking his fingers clean as if consuming a secret.

Then, without looking back, he turned away.

Behind him, explosions continued to thunder from the Cheongsa complex.

Had he been even a few seconds slower, Uichan would’ve been caught—or worse, exposed. The thought alone made his chest seize.

When he’d fallen, Mother Ship’s puppet had caught him mid-air and whisked him to safety, landing softly in a nearby park. But in that moment of reprieve, a chilling realization dawned.

The constant abdominal pain he’d been enduring vanished the instant he used Reversal. Completely gone—like it had never been there.

Just like time itself had rewound.

“…No. No, that can’t be.”

Reversal didn’t affect the user—it couldn’t. He’d proven that already by witnessing the ability’s original owner die without self-interference. He’d used it over ten thousand times. If it had any rebound effect, he’d have regressed into childhood by now.

But “not affecting the user” wasn’t the same as “not affecting the user’s children.” He didn’t know.

He refused to think about it. Shaking his head, he muttered,
“I’ll just… get home. Check, and then…”

Hiding in a grimy public restroom, Uichan stripped off his soot-stained clothes and got to work freeing his leg from the half-burned restraint. The cable had burrowed deep into his skin, searing it raw. Removing it was agony.

He gritted his teeth through the pain, managed to pry it off, disinfected the wound with saline, and wrapped it tight with an emergency bandage. Then, after changing into clean clothes, he washed his hands and face.

He pulled on a pair of white fingerless gloves and retrieved his horn-rimmed glasses from his bag. Adjusting them carefully, he stepped out into the night.

The May air was cool, the trees thick with green leaves. The park was empty.

Exhaustion settled deep into his bones. He sank onto a bench, setting the bag with the wooden box beside him. Just a moment to rest—just a breath.

He folded his arms over his knees, leaned forward, and let his eyes close.

Just for a moment…

When he opened them again, someone was shaking him gently. His vision was hazy with sleep. Then—a flash of gold. Golden eyes, watching him steadily.

As his focus cleared, recognition struck.

He startled, sitting up too fast—but a large hand caught his shoulder firmly.

“Careful, Uichan,” the man said softly. “You’ll fall.”