Hero Hack: Reversing Heroes and Raising Harem-Chapter 118: Master of Nothing

Velra took a slow step forward, still processing the truth.

"So Valcair... that forgotten thing..."

"He’s the one pulling your leash."

The girl didn’t speak.

She just bowed her head slightly.

"He’ll bring Vantess back. He promised—"

Her breath caught.

Velra’s eyes sharpened instantly. "What?"

The girl’s body twitched.

A convulsion ran through her chest.

Zain immediately stepped forward. "What the hell—?"

Her eyes widened in horror as her entire frame began to seize.

Then they both saw it.

Black lines, like ink veins, crawled rapidly up her neck.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came.

Her eyes rolled back. Her body jerked once—

Snap.

Her spine bent unnaturally.

Velra lunged forward to catch her—but it was already over.

The girl collapsed in Velra’s arms—limp, silent, gone.

Zain crouched beside them, eyes narrowed. "Tether kill. Remote."

Velra gritted her teeth, checking the girl’s neck.

The mark was glowing faint red, then fizzled into smoke.

"...He killed her," she said, voice tight.

Zain stood, arms folded. "It means he’s watching."

Velra gently laid the girl down, her expression colder than before.

"Even dead... They’re still tools to him."

Zain looked down at the body. "He knew she talked."

"He had a kill switch," Velra murmured.

"Just in case."

Zain looked around the room, scanning the shadows.

"He’s paranoid. But smart."

Velra stood. Her voice was flat. "Coward."

Zain met her gaze. "At least now we know who the mastermind is."

Velra’s fingers curled into fists.

"I’ll tear out his last breath myself."

Zain smirked slightly. "We’ll get him. But now we bait him properly."

Velra nodded. "He wants the Vantess name?"

She stepped over the girl’s body, expression unreadable.

"Then let him come beg for it."

Zain’s eyes glinted.

"Let’s make the last Vantess regret surviving."

He crouched next to the corpse, eyes running over the limp frame.

"Such a waste," he murmured.

"Right when she finally felt what pleasure was..."

He smirked.

"Well... might as well put her to use. I’m not letting her body rot for nothing."

The girl’s body dissolved slowly into glowing shards, slipping into Zain’s system.

Velra didn’t speak, but the tension in her jaw was visible.

"She didn’t deserve to die like that," she muttered.

"She made her choice," Zain replied flatly.

"Talk, or die. And she did both."

---

Meanwhile, deep beneath a hidden ruin.

Valcair Vantess slammed his branded staff into the floor.

"She activated the kill switch?" he snarled.

"She was trained—conditioned—to never betray."

"Every nerve, every muscle, every instinct designed to obey!"

He gripped the stone rail beside him until it cracked.

"She told them something. I felt the trigger."

"That means she said my name. Or worse..."

He turned sharply toward the remaining slaves kneeling at the room’s edge, eyes burning.

"Damn it—just who the hell is this Velvet Demon?!"

He limped forward, rage growing with each step.

"She knew the mark. She recognized the seal. That means..."

He stopped, muttering to himself, fingers twitching.

"She has a history. She has blood."

"No one outside the old family would know it by sight. It was buried."

He hissed between his teeth, pacing in a circle.

"She’s dangerous."

"She’s not just killing my reach—she’s unraveling it."

He turned toward his terminal.

"I need her here. In this room. On this floor."

His voice dropped into a growl.

"I need her screaming answers."

He activated his ability.

"Time to wake more of them up."

"More hounds. More eyes. Whatever it takes."

He crushed glass with his hand.

"She will break."

"I don’t care how many get burned."

He clenched the shard tightly until blood dripped from his palm.

"I will drag her back."

"And when I do..."

He looked up, eyes filled with fury and sick hope.

"I’ll carve the family name into her bones."

---

The next day, BB-1’s incident board lit up like wildfire.

Alerts. Reports. Emergency pings.

Blazren stood in front of the main console, arms crossed.

He was scowling at the flood of names flashing red.

Another report pinged.

Then another.

"Target: C-Rank patrol—neutralized. Signature method: leg-based strikes. No mercy."

"Target: Guild Accountant—missing. Suspected abducted. Witness described... black-pink suit."

"Target: B-Rank duo, scorched and mutilated. Found bound together by high-heel imprints. Mark left: V."

Blazren slammed a fist on the desk.

"Damn it!"

The technician flinched beside him.

"That’s the fifth report this hour."

Blazren’s jaw tensed.

"It’s spreading."

He turned toward the nearest junior investigator.

"How many?"

"At least... twelve sightings across BB and upper BC."

"Three fatalities, all with similar methods."

Blazren paced, muttering.

"They’re not just going after B-Ranks anymore..."

"Now it’s random targets. Civilian hunters."

He paused, eyes narrowing.

"They’re copying her."

One of the officers looked up. "The Velvet Demon?"

Blazren nodded grimly.

"They’ve seen her act, now they’re pretending to be her. Trying to ride the fear."

"Or worse—trying to attract attention."

Another ping.

"Report incoming from BC-2. Another ’Velvet Demon’ sighting."

"Solo enforcer down. Killed with stiletto heel to the throat."

Blazren hissed through his teeth.

"How can it be like this..."

"She was supposed to be one nightmare."

"Now there’s an army of shadows playing dress-up in her name."

He turned toward the screen again, voice low.

"I don’t know what the hell is going on anymore."

"But this isn’t just about one killer."

"This is a message."

"They’re trying to drown us in imitation."

He clenched his jaw.

"...We need to find the real one."

"Fast."

---

Savra and Zelia walked through the streets of BB-1.

The city was unusually tense despite the daylight.

Whispers of disappearances and public killing circulated like poison in the air.

They turned the corner—and stopped.

Ahead, three women stood casually near the wall.

They were dressed in high-heel boots, black-pink bodysuits, and half-masked visors.

Velvet Demon imitators.

Savra narrowed her eyes.

"So..." she said, her voice dry.

"You’re the ones causing the fuss lately."

One of the women tilted her head, grinning beneath her mask.

She didn’t say anything—just stared.

She didn’t need words to threaten.

Savra’s lips curved in amusement.

"Zelia, hide behind me."

Zelia stepped forward instead.

"No need."

She pulled a slim combat knife from her coat, holding it in reverse grip.

"I’m not just someone you walk around to protect. I know how to fight too."

Savra glanced sideways, mildly surprised.

"Oh? Confident today."

Zelia’s eyes stayed on the masked trio.

"They’re not the real thing. That means they bleed."

One of the fake Velvet Demons chuckled.

"Cute. You two gonna scold us or throw hands?"

Zelia took another step forward.

"Both."