Villain: Your Heroines Were Delicious

Chapter 192: Chapter 57

Taro opened his eyes slowly, and immediately, the harsh, clinical glare of fluorescent lights burned into his retinas.

For a moment, his mind was a complete blank, a white void, staring at the ceiling in a daze, unable to think of anything… until the heavy, sterile scent of antiseptic and air freshener flooded his senses.

He blinked, and only then did he realise that he was lying in what appeared to be a high-end hospital room, far more luxurious than any clinic he had ever stepped foot in.

“Where… is this?” He muttered, still in a daze.

He tried to shift his weight, but a sharp, localized fire erupted in his chest, radiating outward to every limb, causing him to freeze in pain.

He groaned, letting out a dry, raspy sound, as his gaze drifted down to his arms.

They were covered in bandages, with IV needles taped firmly to the backs of his hands, pumping clear fluids and painkillers into his system.

Despite it, every fiber of his being was screaming in a discordant chorus of agony.

“What… happened?” he whispered, his voice sounding like sandpaper against stone, his throat feeling incredibly dry.

Just then, the heavy oak door to the room swung open with a soft hiss as Kobayashi Rindou walked in, her presence immediately cutting through the sterile atmosphere.

She was as graceful and noble as ever, her usual school uniform that Taro always see her by was now replaced by a sharp, black tactical blazer that made her look like a high-ranking officer.

Seeing him awake, she offered him a small, elegant smile.

“Ah, you’re awake,” she said, her voice like a cool breeze. “How are you feeling, Tadano-kun?”

“Senpai… Everything… hurts. Everything,” he squeezed out, the effort of speaking making his head throb.

Rindou pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed, her expression turning uncharacteristically gentle as she nodded slowly. “Understandable. You suffered multiple bone fractures, internal hemorrhaging, and a punctured lung. To be perfectly honest, if I had been just a few minutes later, if your location pin hadn’t reached me when it did, you would have already died in that apartment.”

Taro remained still, the ceiling tiles blurring as his memory finally began to stitch itself back together.

The fight.

The mask.

The oily, black mist.

And then… the absolute, crushing beatdown at the hands of that entity.

He remembered the feeling of being a ragdoll, of his Ki flickering out like a dying candle.

He remembered that feeling of absolute certainty where he was plunged into the depths of despair and was on the verge of dying.

“You did good, Taro,” Rindou said suddenly. “Better than I expected, actually.”

Taro’s eyes snapped to hers, searching for any sign of mockery or pity. “Is… that so? Was I… was I actually useful for once?”

Rindou smiled, a genuine, warm expression that reached her eyes. “Yeah. More than that, you were amazing. To stand against an entity of that caliber and not cower… most trained operatives would have turned and run. You can be proud of yourself. You held the line.”

“Really…?” Taro bit his lower lip, feeling a strange, stinging sensation in his eyes that had nothing to do with his injuries.

He closed his eyes tight in thought.

So, he was no longer just a useless “mob” watching from the sidelines?

Had he finally taken that step—the one he had been dreaming about since the day the System first appeared?

Had he finally taken a step closer to being the kind of man who could stand in the same light as Kageyama Seijirou?

“Rest well,” Rindou said, standing up and smoothing her blazer. “You’ve done your part. There are some things that we, the Student Council and the authorities, still need to take care of tonight.”

“Ah, wait!” Taro called out, his voice cracking as he saw Rindou heading for the door.

Rindou turned back toward him, her brow arched in confusion. “Yes?”

Taro struggled to sit up slightly, ignoring the flare of pain in his ribs. “When I was… fighting… that masked guy, he, uh… he mentioned something. He said his powers, the mask itself, they came from someone he called ’Mister.’ I don’t know if that will be useful for your investigation, but I think you need to know, it might be important.”

Rindou’s eyes widened as a sharp, analytical light flashing in her blue gaze.

Mister? she thought, her mind immediately connecting the dots to the intelligence they had gathered earlier. Isn’t that also what Miss Akane said? That her husband, Kirei, is calling the person who gave him his supernatural items the same thing?

This…thus isn’t just a local dealer!.. It’s basically a network! That mister was giving out supernatural items for whatever reasons and those item holders are causing havoc in the world!

They must be stopped!

“No, that is very useful information, Taro. Vital, in fact,” Rindou said, her tone shifting to one of professional after hearing a grave news. “Thank you. This basically tells a connection we have overlooked.”

“Ah… you’re welcome,” Taro muttered, sinking back into the pillows, a sense of relief washing over him.

He had contributed.

He had helped.

He was no longer useless, right?

Rindou gave him one last nod of respect and left the room, her footsteps echoing with a new, urgent rhythm.

*

*

*

At this moment, while Taro lay in his hospital bed, the Kurosaki Manor was bathed in a deceptive, opulent silence.

Kurosaki Kirei stood in his private study, his hands clasped behind his back, rubbing them together in a gesture of nervous, greedy excitement.

He was staring at an old man seated in his high-backed leather chair—the chair that represented the head of the family, which is reserved only for him to sit.

Now, it was once again occupied by another person, but, just like the first time, he cannot di anything about it.

The old man was currently focused on a plate of “steak,” cutting a small, succulent piece and tasting it with the slow, methodical air of a connoisseur.

“Mister Roriko… how is the food? Is the preparation to your liking?” Kirei asked, his voice dripping with sycophancy.

Mr. Roriko put down his gold-plated knife and fork, delicately wiping his lips with a linen napkin before offering a slow nod. “Although I think the meat could have used a little more tenderizing—perhaps a few more hours of fear before the harvest—otherwise, it is passable. Quite sweet.”

Kirei exhaled a long sigh of relief, his shoulders losing their tension.

Mr. Roriko was a formidable figure within the Inner Circle of the Mister as he is a coal tycoon with international influence, and he had been dispatched by the Mister himself to retrieve Kirei’s promised offering: the captured women of the Kurosaki bloodline.

In both the mundane business world and the hierarchy of the Circle, Roriko was a titan standing far above a “new money” striver like Kirei.

“How much longer until your wife and daughter arrive?” Mr. Roriko asked, his eyes glinting with a hint of profound boredom.

Kirei checked the ornate grandfather clock in the corner. “They should be arriving any minute now, Mr. Roriko. Akane has a way of being punctual when her will is… properly aligned.”

Roriko nodded, leaning back in the chair. “By the way, I have heard reports that your daughter is quite petite, and also very sickly. Is that correct?”

Kirei nodded eagerly. “Yes, Mr. Roriko. Erina has a congenital heart disease where it has made it impossible for her to engage in any sort of physically demanding activity her entire life. Even walking for long periods or a sudden shock is incredibly dangerous for her. Honestly, she is as fragile as fine porcelain.”

“Hoh?” Roriko’s expression shifted, a look of twisted interest crossing his aged, wrinkled face as he licked his lips slowly. “A heart condition… that must produce a very unique kind of adrenaline. The fragility of a life always on the brink… it must be nice, having a cute, delicate daughter like her to offer.”

Before Kirei could respond with further flattery, a sharp, rhythmic knock sounded at the door before it opened to reveal a butler, whose face was a mask of professional neutrality.

“Kurosaki-sama,” the butler announced, bowing low. “Your wife and daughter have arrived at the front gates. They are on their way up to the study now.”

Kirei’s heart hammered with triumph. “Alright. You go ahead and prepare the reception.”

The butler bowed again and retreated into the hallway.

“We can proceed with the official transfer of the assets immediately, Mr. Roriko,” Kirei said, his voice trembling with the anticipation of the rewards the Mister had promised him.

Mr. Roriko stood up, his joints popping, and a slow, disgusting grin spread across his face as he stared at the door. “Oh, I can’t wait. I truly can’t wait to see this ’porcelain’ daughter of yours.”

Outside, the wind began to howl around the eaves of the manor, a storm brewing that the men inside couldn’t yet perceive.