Hero Hack: Reversing Heroes and Raising Harem-Chapter 114: Dancing in the Ashes

The nightclub pulsed with synthetic bass, lights flashing red and gold.

Heroes danced. Civilians laughed.

A few officers turned blind eyes as credits slipped into pockets.

And at the center of it all sat Kazzro.

Lounging on a curved couch, flame-ringed glasses tilted slightly down his nose.

He laughed with two girls under each arm and a cigar burning between his fingers.

"So I told the guy"

"If you want to be a hero, don’t bleed on my jacket, yeah?"

"Not my fault the rookie couldn’t dodge one little fireball."

The women giggled.

"Another drink for B-Rank royalty?"

A waitress asked with a forced smile.

"You read my mind," Kazzro winked.

A new voice cut through the music behind him.

"Funny. I thought royalty didn’t steal from the people."

Kazzro froze.

The voice was sharp. Female.

He turned.

Standing behind the couch was a tall woman in a black cyber-bodysuit laced with neon pink.

The club’s lights flickered once.

Then all at once it went dead.

"Wh-What the hell?" Kazzro stood, hand already glowing with flame.

"Who the hell are you?!"

The woman didn’t answer. She just walked forward.

He raised his hand. "Back off! I’m B-Rank, bitch, you don’t want this smoke!"

Velra smiled. "You’re right. I don’t want smoke."

She vanished.

Kazzro barely blinked—and her foot slammed into his ribs.

She launched him into the club’s bar.

Bottles shattered, flames sputtered across the ground.

He groaned. "You want to fight? In public? Good. I’ll fry you alive!"

His hands ignited.

Twin arcs of orange flame twisted into whips.

"Flame Projection: Serpent Lancer!"

He lunged, spears of fire coiling.

Velra stepped to the side, dodging like she was dancing.

"You don’t even deserve those flames," she muttered.

Her body blurred—Waltz Zone activated.

In a blink, she appeared behind him.

One spinning kick—Blade Trace—cut through his coat.

Another step—Shock Trace trailed lightning across the floor.

Kazzro screamed as the electricity arced up his legs.

"Stay still—!" he roared, throwing a fire burst.

She leapt through it, twirling, unharmed.

Kazzro gasped.

"You’re not a hero," Velra said softly.

"You’re a conman with a lighter."

He charged in frustration, fists ablaze.

She caught his wrist.

He looked confused for a second.

Then—

Snap.

She broke his arm.

"ARGH—!"

Then slammed her knee into his gut.

He collapsed, choking, spitting flame onto the ground.

"Who—" he gasped, "who are you—?!"

She crouched beside him, tilting his chin up with one claw.

"The Velvet Demon."

She raised one heel and pressed it against his throat.

Kazzro’s eyes widened.

"No, please—"

"You gambled with other people’s money," Velra said coldly.

"Now bet with your life."

She stomped.

Crack.

Silence.

The music didn’t come back.

Velra stood straight, brushed dust from her thigh, and looked around.

"Next."

Her heels echoed as she turned—then suddenly, her instinct screamed.

A blur of motion struck from behind.

Velra twisted, raised her leg high—block.

It had enough force to send her skidding backwards across the club floor.

Velra dropped her foot and narrowed her eyes.

"Tch. Cute."

From the shadows, a woman stepped forward.

Short blue hair. Pale skin. Cold expression.

She didn’t speak.

Velra’s gaze lowered.

Then she saw it—the glowing mark on the woman’s neck.

A V-shaped tattoo.

Velra’s smile dropped.

"...So. Another one."

The blue-haired woman didn’t respond.

She simply tilted her head—and her body shifted.

Bones cracked. Limbs flexed.

Her stance dropped as her legs became digitigrade, spine arched.

Blue hair whipped upward like a tailwind had hit.

Wolf Shift.

Velra’s lip curled. "Of course. One of his hounds."

The transformed woman growled low.

Then she spoke her first words:

"Follow me back... or die."

Velra blinked, then barked a laugh.

"Back? You mean to him, don’t you?"

She paced slowly to the side.

"Let me guess. No name, no past. Just a mark and a leash."

The blue-haired woman’s claws tightened, but she said nothing.

"Still mute, huh?" Velra stopped moving.

"You should’ve brought a collar if you really wanted to drag me home."

The wolf-woman crouched lower, ready to lunge.

Velra smirked.

"Let’s see if you’ve got teeth... puppy."

Flash—

The woman moved. A blur of claws and fangs.

Velra pivoted, dodging with a pirouette step, her hand slashing through the air.

Blade Trace shimmered behind her as she twisted.

The wolf landed across from her, unharmed, but slightly breathing heavier.

"Not bad," Velra said.

"But don’t get cocky just because you landed a warning strike."

The wolf finally spoke again—low, quiet, emotionless.

"He wants you alive."

Velra’s eyes narrowed.

"’He?’ So there is a master behind the mark..."

She tilted her head.

"Funny. I burned that mansion to the ground."

"Thought I ended the Vantess name that day."

She stepped forward.

"If someone survived, they’re not my family."

"They’re just a coward with a new brand."

The wolf raised her clawed hands again, stance firm.

Velra cracked her knuckles.

"Let’s see how many pieces I have to break before your master realizes..."

"I don’t go with anyone."

---

Their bodies collided again.

Velra ducked under a swipe, spun low, and kicked the wolf-woman’s leg, sending her staggering.

The slave didn’t flinch.

She simply snarled and lashed out with both hands.

Velra twisted her hips, redirecting the strike mid-spin and lashing her foot across the girl’s jaw.

A flicker of Blade Trace carved the air behind it, forcing the wolf to jump back.

They paused, circling and breathing hard.

Velra tilted her head.

"So, you fight better than the rest."

"That mark’s not just for decoration, huh?"

The blue-haired woman didn’t respond.

Velra stepped forward, deliberately slow.

"But I’ve got a question for you, puppy—just who the hell is your master?"

The wolf-woman flinched slightly.

"All the Vantess," Velra continued, voice rising.

"died in that burning mansion. Every. Single. One."

She pointed. "There were no survivors."

The woman’s brows furrowed. She darted in again, slashing fast.

But Velra parried the first and grabbed her wrist mid-strike.

Their faces were close now—just inches apart.

"Who the hell are you?" the wolf finally hissed.

"How can you know about the Vantess family?"

Velra’s smirk returned, sharp and venomous.

"Why don’t you find out—after you defeat me."

She drove her elbow into the wolf’s ribs, hard.

The woman grunted, pushed back, and twisted into a roundhouse.

Velra ducked.

But her grin never faded.

"Not so easy, is it?"

The wolf didn’t answer. Her eyes flickered—confused. Suspicious.

Velra could see it.

She doesn’t know. She’s not even told who I am.

Perfect.

"Come on," Velra taunted, resetting her stance.

"Let’s see how far you’re willing to go for a master who hides behind collars."

They clashed again—sparks flying as claw met heel.

And neither backed down.