Beginning of the 10th Day
POV of Yakumo Oomori – The Doctor
"Tec" The snap of my finger echoes through the room, along with the sound of the doctor's ragged breathing.
"Damn it! Damn it!" I feel sweat run down my forehead as I look at the property's cameras on the monitor, usually showing no movement, but this time I can clearly see a considerable number of figures invading.
These figures are unmistakably Pro Heroes, judging by their flashy, colorful costumes; along with them, I can see an entire police force surrounding the place.
I noticed something was wrong when I realized the most obvious cameras were suddenly disabled. Thankfully, I was paranoid enough to have several small hidden cameras installed throughout the property, but that won't stop those bastards from getting to me.
"How did this happen? I'm still so far from completing the research, damn it! Damn them! What do I do!?"
"Tec!"
"I chose this semi-abandoned house in the suburbs precisely so I wouldn't have to deal with this shit! Fuck! And I only used the basement, plus I soundproofed it… Shit!"
"TEC!!" I feel my finger tingle after snapping it harder than usual.
I pull open the drawer of my desk, and with a slightly trembling hand, I grab the revolver I bought from the traffickers.
"It's no use… I won't be able to get out of here… they're going to steal my research… no!"
"Tec!"
"Pow!" The door is slammed violently, sending the dust stuck to it flying.
"We know you're in there, come out with your hands up! Do not resist! The building is completely surrounded by heroes and the police!" I hear the booming shout from outside the door.
"No… not my research… they can't steal my research, my results! I was so close! So close!" I murmur to myself. Tears of desperation freely stream down my face as I try to think of something.
"POW!!" This time the door creaks, the old wood cracking, it won't last much longer before giving in completely.
"I can't let them take my research… that's it!" The twisted smile returns to my face, still wet with tears that won't stop falling. I throw some of the papers and documents onto the office floor, scattering everything randomly like confetti at a children's party.
I grab a bottle of alcohol, open it, and pour the liquid all over the office floor.
"They won't have anything! ANYTHING!... Haaaa… haha."
Throwing the empty bottle into a corner, I light a match and let it fall to the floor.
The fire starts violently, spreading unevenly through the puddles and droplets of alcohol, burning some papers and, without me noticing, the hem of my pants as well.
The flames burn the fabric, revealing my prosthetic leg.
"It's not enough… I need to get rid of more!" I look at the gun in my hand with a smile.
"Yes! This way they'll never get my research HAHAHAHAHA!"
I put the gun to my head and—
─── ◆ ───
A few minutes earlier…
POV of Nemuri Kayama – Midnight
"Nothing in this room!" I shout, looking at the completely empty, dusty room, with no signs that anyone has been here for days, or years.
"Nothing here either!" says a voice from the room next door.
Initially, we thought this house was some kind of warehouse for the traffickers who were arrested five days ago, but that doesn't seem to be the case, since no one has entered or left this place during all that time.
By observing old footage from some of the area's security cameras, we saw the group of traffickers arriving at this house, and it was also confirmed by a detective with a detection Quirk that there are people here, even though we don't have the exact number.
"Looks like they found someone in the basement!" my fellow hero says urgently, so the two of us head downstairs. The first thing I notice is the enormous, dark, moldy corridor.
'How is something like this under a house?' I ask myself, curious.
"Bang!" A gunshot echoes through the dark corridor. I exchange a nervous look with the hero beside me, and we run toward the sound.
When we reach the group of heroes, I sigh in relief when I see that everyone is okay.
"What happened?" I ask the nearest hero, who is looking at some papers with an ugly expression.
"Looks like this was just a buyer. He killed himself before we entered the room," he says without taking his eyes off the papers.
I glance at the room being searched by the heroes. The wall is stained with blood, there are several papers scattered across the floor, some still smoking, others completely charred. I can see a leg behind the office desk, probably the guy's.
I crouch down and pick up one of the many papers that wasn't burned, and freeze when I see what looks like a poorly drawn picture of a child being dismembered.
My eyes wander across the many papers scattered around, all with different drawings of the same child being tortured in various ways.
"My God…" I drop the paper and leave the room to get some air.
"Guys, there's another door here!" I hear someone shout in the distance, which makes my heart race in anguish.
I go with part of the group to the new door. This one is a heavy metal door, and one of the heroes starts unlocking it with a key he found in the office.
The door opens, and a pungent smell of blood and burned flesh invades our noses.
As I enter the room, my eyes scan the surgical equipment, but focus mainly on the bloodstains on the floor and the surgical table. In the distance, I can see two red dots staring back.
A hero finds and presses a switch that turns on the lights. Now the red dots in the distance reveal what I didn't want to be true.
The same child from those macabre drawings stares at us with an expressionless face. Looking into his eyes sends a chill down my spine. My gaze drifts to the child's arms, which are covered in scars.
I feel a stab of sadness in my heart and slowly walk toward the cell.
─── ◆ ───
POV of the Protagonist
'Who is she? And what kind of outfit is that, lady??' I think as I look at the woman wearing extremely tight clothing.
She crouches in front of the cell with a suggestive movement, although the look of pity on her face suggests she did it unintentionally.
She starts saying some things in what I assume is Japanese, with a gentle and soft voice.
I tilt my head to the side, trying to show that I don't understand what she's saying, but she keeps talking. I manage to recognize the words "Pro Hero," since she said that in English for some reason.
'Heroes? Am I saved?' My eyes wander to the other figures in the room, some rummaging through cabinets, others giving me looks of pity. I notice the colorful outfits, which seem to confirm the idea that they are heroes.
"Miss… I can't… understand… you," I say quietly and a bit hoarsely, but she seems to hear me. She turns to her colleagues and asks something; they shake their heads in denial.
One of them opens the cell with the doctor's keys. The woman slowly approaches me and extends her hand toward my head, which makes me shrink back unconsciously.
She seems to freeze when she sees me flinch. She says a few words again in that gentle voice and tries to approach her hand once more.
I don't shrink back this time. She strokes my white hair, and with that gesture, I feel my defenses break, but I can't cry, so I just close my eyes, enjoying the affection.
When she stops, I open my eyes and see a gentle, warm smile on her face, one I know will stay in my mind for a long time.
She picks me up in her arms and carries me out of the room.