My World My Justice Ch.26

-Futaba Sakura, Oracle-

She was chewing her nails again. Her brown eyes darted between the monitors, tracking everything she could physically manage while waiting for the calls. It had been a few days since she'd been on edge like this, and how couldn't she be?

Skidmark is dead.

Obviously she'd alerted Daniel about that idiot’s death, and he'd shared her concerns about the consequences. They'd agreed to maintain the facade that things were going as usual while she prepared for the inevitable shitstorm.

In hindsight, Skidmark dying was just the natural end for that guy. He'd constantly taken his own drugs, abused them relentlessly, and maintained an overall terrible and extremely dangerous, unhealthy lifestyle for who knows how many years. It shouldn't be a shock that he'd died from overdosing, even more, he should have been dead already.

Technically, it was OD-related according to the autopsy—yes, she'd contacted her PRT source to pick up and clean the scene, and thankfully Skidmark's death was kept hush-hush. Only a very select few knew about the incident. But the former gang leader's body had been mutated. Skidmark had been pretty scrawny and deteriorated, yet that corpse had a massive physique like Daniel's although it was more on the grotesque side. All because of those empty vials scattered around him, whatever cocktail of drugs he'd injected himself with.

Futaba was preparing for the fallout when the news inevitably broke. The ABB would immediately launch an all-out attack to seize the power vacuum. They had more than enough numbers to control the Merchants' territory, and they'd likely strike at both the PRT and the weakened Empire simultaneously. That meant Lung would be directly involved, probably leading the assault on the PRT himself.

Daniel could easily deal with him obviously, that was never brought into question, it was the rest of the gang spread out that she was worried about.

So she'd mobilized all the independents she could reach. She'd even gone as far as hiring Faultline's crew to start hitting ABB warehouses, causing as much chaos as possible on their turf. That included redirecting the Undersiders' attention to the ABB as well—anything to delay and hinder them at every corner so when they attack it won’t have the same intensity, at least until PRT reinforcements arrive.

She groaned and clutched her head, fingers tangling in her hair. It was such terrible timing. Just when she'd helped root out the corruption and compromised staff within the PRT ENE, now they desperately needed those numbers for the coming storm. Thankfully, Jin mitigated a chunk of the personnel shortage with his clones just as she suggested.

Still, they needed those PRT reinforcements desperately. She'd managed to obtain intel that the capes being sent were Fat Gum and Seres, but the third remained frustratingly elusive. The field operative squads being deployed were a significant boost too, but capes—as harsh as it sounded—were worth dozens of regular officers in situations like this.

Her phone sat on the desk beside her keyboard, silent for now. But any moment it could light up with news that everything had gone to hell.

She grabbed another energy drink from the pile, cracking it open without looking away from her screens. Sleep could wait. Right now, she needed to stay sharp and ready to coordinate her scattered forces the moment things exploded.

She jerked her head when her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Quickly snatching it up, she frowned as the screen showed an encrypted number. Her finger hovered over the decline button for a moment before she answered, already recording the conversation. And setting her computer to track the number.

"I have to admit, you are truly skilled at your self-imposed occupation, Oracle." The voice was smooth, measured, and dripping with false civility. "Quite the impressive operation you've built. Though I must say, you've been rather... aggressive in certain regards."

An involuntary chill ran down her spine. She knew that voice.

Coil.

"Poaching my assets, for instance. Dismantling networks I've spent years cultivating within the PRT." There was no anger in his tone for some reason, was he attempting to praise her? "However, I'm willing to let this first transgression slide. Consider it a learning opportunity—a chance to recognize your mistakes and avoid repeating them. I'm quite reasonable that way."

Okay what an ass.

She wanted to spit out his real name, but he didn't know that she knew, so it was better to keep that card hidden. Besides, there were those bombs scattered across the city to consider. Even with his stupid split timeline bullshit, she was still relatively safe. Well, as safe as anyone could be when dealing with so many capes with bullshit powers.

"So why are you calling me?" She injected as much venom into the question as possible to let her position clear.

"Because you know far too much for someone operating independently. But then again, you are clearly a high-rated Thinker, so I suppose such knowledge is to be expected. Your capabilities have been quite... impressive."

She wasn't really a Thinker, but it was a good thing he believed that. Let him underestimate what she was actually capable of and base all his timeline simulations on wrong information. It also helped that he hadn't acquired that precognitive girl. Without her, his predictions were limited to his own power's scope.

"So get to the point, Coil. Or are you just calling to stroke your ego about how clever you think you are? Or empty threats?"

A soft chuckle came through the line. "My, my. Rather sharp-tongued for someone in your position. But that's irrelevant for the moment. As it stands, we—or more accurately, Brockton Bay—find ourselves in quite the predicament."

"Understatement of the century," she muttered, fingers already flying across her keyboard to trace the call. "Let me be straight with you. Did you kill Skidmark?"

Silence stretched across the line, seconds ticking by with agonizing slowness. The pause felt deliberate… calculated.

Was he using his power right now? He had to be. Or maybe he thought that by remaining silent he would make her squirm or want to be overly dramatic.

"No," Coil finally answered, his tone almost conversational. "We both understand that as much of a pestilence as Skidmark and his Merchants were to this city, they served a necessary function. A buffer zone between the gangs, if you will. Their presence discouraged outside organizations from establishing footholds here. Now that buffer no longer exists, which presents complications for all of us."

Futaba didn't know if he was lying or telling the full truth. Besides, everything he was saying would ultimately benefit him the most he could benefit. But he was right about how dangerous the power vacuum currently was.

"So can you tell me what you actually know? Because I saw YOUR people leaving the building where we found Skidmark's corpse. Lots of dead Merchants too. That's a hell of a coincidence."

"Cleanup operations." His answer came smoothly, without hesitation. "Dead men tell no tales, after all. I couldn't have evidence and loose mouths of the unfortunate passing. I'm sure you understand the necessity of information control."

"Okay, that's fair. I guess." She paused, chewing on her thumbnail. "And Squealer? What happened to her? I know she should be at any rally the Merchants held."

"Secured in one of my facilities for the moment. She possesses valuable skills that would be wasted rotting in a standard holding cell."

"So should I expect to thank you for maintaining some sort of balance? Even though you still had dozens of people killed?"

She wasn't trying to take the moral high ground or anything—she just wanted to reinforce what side this man was really on. To remind him that she could see through his bullshit.

A low chuckle came through the line, genuinely amused this time. "Attempting to play the moralist card? How quaint, especially coming from someone who deliberately threw quite a number of reasonably innocent individuals under the proverbial bus to damage my intelligence network. Collateral damage is an unfortunate reality of our line of work, wouldn't you agree?"

Futaba's jaw clenched. They weren’t innocent, technically speaking.

"But that's irrelevant for our current situation," Coil continued, his tone shifting back to businesslike. "Consider this a gesture of good faith—free information to demonstrate that we need not be adversaries in all matters. Muscular provided Skidmark with samples of his serum as payment for orchestrating his prison break. Skidmark, in his infinite wisdom, attempted to replicate it."

Oh shiiiiiiiiiit.

"Oh shit indeed, Oracle." She could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Because remarkably, he succeeded in reproducing the formula. However, his body proved... incompatible with the results. Cardiac failure, multiple organ shutdown, catastrophic muscular deterioration as the transformation progressed. Quite a painful and protracted death, from what my people observed."

“Wait, what?”

Skidmark actually succeeded in recreating Bane’s serum?!

"A crude version, but functional. And before you ask—yes, my operatives secured several crates of the substance along with his notes and equipment. I wasn't about to leave such a volatile asset lying around for the ABB or Empire to stumble upon. No need to thank me."

And just like that, Coil had armed himself with military-grade enhancement drugs. This was a serious problem. And with his contacts he could hire tinkers to improve on the formula and turn all his men into Brutes.\

But Bane was supposed to be smart. Why did he give his serum to that junkie!?

HIs honor and moral code.

But he wouldn’t be working for Lung… but Lung is far more powerful than him so he might have done the exception for the dragon, but for Skidmark? He knew what he was doing and took the chance.

No wonder the junkie wasn’t seen for so long! He had been working on that drug to try to stand a chance against True Might.

Shit. So many things had been occurring in the background without her knowledge, and that realization made her stomach twist a little.

She'd been so focused on the surface that she'd missed this entire subplot developing in the shadows. She really hated not having her powers.

"Okay, so you obviously wanted to say something besides gloat. What else?"

"Your delaying tactics are creative, but ultimately futile. You can delay the ABB perhaps one week at most; no more than that. Not even deploying your 'big guy' will prevent the inevitable, because even if by some miracle Lung is removed from the equation, he'll simply unleash his forces to run wild across the city before his capture. The man is exceptionally vindictive that way. He'd rather see everything burn than lose control."

Hah, so he doesn't understand Daniel's full strength either. Daniel could demolish Lung without breaking a sweat. The only reason they hadn't hunted down the dragon was because it would accelerate the gang's implosion and cause massive collateral damage across the city. 

Calculated restraint, not inability.

"Obviously, I have no desire to see MY city falling into ruin and becoming a warzone. Such chaos would be detrimental to everyone's interests, including my own investments."

She merely rolled her eyes. Seriously, what a narcissistic asshole.

"So... you want to help?" The question came out skeptical, almost mocking.

Fuck that. They were not getting indebted to him by any stretch of the imagination. Even with the limited knowledge she had of Worm's future, she was acutely aware to never make deals with Thinkers. Especially ones like Coil.

"A non-aggression pact, nothing more. Temporary cooperation with clearly defined parameters." His tone remained businesslike. "You focus your considerable resources entirely on dismantling the ABB and the Empire while I handle the external forces attempting to establish footholds in our city. A simple division of labor that benefits both our interests. You may call it mutually assured survival."

"External forces? Plural?" Her fingers had already started typing, pulling up her databases on known villain organizations.

A low, knowing chuckle came through the line. "Oh, my dear Oracle. You possess impressive capabilities, but you still lack certain crucial pieces of the larger puzzle. I've already been forced to root out advance scouts and infiltration teams from the Teeth, the Elite, Gesellschaft, the Cartel, the Fallen, and even what I suspect are sponsored operatives from the Yangban. Quite the rogues' gallery circling our little city like vultures, wouldn't you say?"

"...You're lying." Though even as she said it, doubt crept into her voice. She was almost certain he was exaggerating, inflating the numbers just to manipulate her into accepting his terms.

But still—even three organizations would be too many to handle simultaneously. And if there were genuinely more she didn't know about looking to seize control of the power vacuum? 

Unless they suddenly received massive reinforcements from the PRT or the Triumvirate personally relocated to the city, they simply wouldn't have the resources. They'd try to root out one group and another would quickly infiltrate and establish themselves in the chaos and return to the stupid stalemate.

"Perhaps I'm embellishing slightly for dramatic effect. Perhaps not. The question is—are you truly willing to take that risk? To gamble the city's survival on the hope that I'm merely boasting to manipulate you? That I'm trying to get a rise out of you for my own amusement?"

Yes. 

"Wait—cartel?" She frowned, pulling up a map. They were pretty far from South America geographically, but maybe there was another organization using that name.

"Cartel Fuego Blanco. You've already had the displeasure of meeting their rather... flamboyant leader, Snowflame."

There went her hopes for a mistaken identity.

So that was the name of his organization. Great. Just great.

And the Yangban being involved? She'd thought they were strictly isolationist, focused entirely on maintaining control over Asia with zero interest in expanding to the other side of the world. Or at least that's how she understood their operations—there was barely any reliable information about them in her databases. 

She was especially worried about the Teeth, who were genuinely psychotic and would try to turn Brockton Bay into a slaughterhouse for their own twisted entertainment. Their leader, the Butcher, made things exponentially worse with that curse.

She took a deep breath.

"Okay. First of all, fuck you." She made sure her voice dripped with contempt, refusing to let him think she was anything else but annoyed. "And second, the moment this crisis is over, we are coming for you. Don't believe for even a second that we're allies or that this temporary arrangement changes anything between us. You're still at the top of my shit list."

She would absolutely start systematically searching for all his bombs and defuse every single one of them.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Oracle. In fact, I'd be disappointed if you didn't make the attempt. It keeps things interesting." She could hear the smirk in his voice, that infuriating fake confidence. "I'm glad we could reach this understanding. It's been a genuine pleasure doing business with you."

The line went dead with a soft click.

She stared at her phone, jaw clenched. She hated—absolutely hated—the fact that this was far more complicated than a simple temporary truce. Despite all the advantages her meta-knowledge gave her, Coil was still an experienced, cunning bastard who'd survived and put himself at the top in the city. She couldn't underestimate him for even a moment.

Lisa couldn't root him out soon enough. And the only way Coil would voluntarily leave his fortified bunkers was when he'd finally secured his position completely, eliminated all the "problems" threatening his control. She knew that from the little canon she could remember, which meant one very worrying thing.

Coil must have found a way to work around Daniel's defenses and threat level. Otherwise he wouldn't sound this confident.

"Fuck me..." She slumped back in her chair and stared at the ceiling with exhausted eyes.

She was running out of time to prepare for the coming storm. 

-----------------------------------------------------------

-Daniel, True Might-

I'm standing with Futaba somewhere in a little isolated part of the city on top of a rundown building. Obviously she's in full incognito mode, but compared to last time she's wearing multiple face masks layered on top of each other and topped with a ridiculous LEGO mini-figure helmet that I coincidentally happened to have in my closet.

Don't question it. Just accept it.

We're waiting here because we've been preparing, trying to cover as many bases as possible for the incoming crisis. And this particular meeting is one of the most critical—we can't handle this situation alone.

Obviously, I'm not going to let Coil do whatever the hell he wants. I want that manipulative bastard gone as soon as possible. But alone, we can't take him down without potentially dooming half the city with his dead-man switches. If I were a speedster like the Flash or Quicksilver, it would be another story entirely—I could just blitz him before he even knew what was happening and disarm all the bombs before they detonated. But I'm not, so we have to resort to asking somebody else for help. Someone who's a field expert with all the equipment and tactical expertise necessary to deal with this particular situation, and most importantly, someone who can be discreet.

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" Futaba asks, turning to stare at me through the eyeholes of her ridiculous helmet.

I nod firmly. This is our best option, and the upcoming crisis is the perfect opportunity to act.

Eventually, I hear the rumbling and revving of a motorcycle engine approaching, before it slowly dies down somewhere close. Almost right on schedule, a blue helmet appears from the building's ladder access, revealing our invited guest.

Armsmaster.

I remember that he gets constantly meme'd and ridiculed in plenty of stories—portrayed as an obstacle to the protagonist's greatness, a glory-seeking hardass who can't get out of his ass, only capable of whining about regulations like some kind of bureaucratic robot. Even in our first meeting, I remember him acting rigid about rules and procedures, and his biggest flaw showed when he tried to insert himself into my fight against the Empire after I'd already won.

Futaba's digital digging has revealed plenty of other things about him, both good and bad. The man's driven, sometimes to a fault. He overworks himself to an unhealthy degree, obsesses over efficiency, and yes, he desperately wants recognition for his accomplishments. He's also got the social skills of a brick and tends to rub people the wrong way without meaning to.

Quite good she was in that one.

But despite all that, I have a strong hunch about him. I can't really explain it rationally, but I genuinely believe I can trust the man when it matters most. I know that at his core, Armsmaster is a force for good—he just wants recognition for it. Theoretically, we could guide and direct that ambition toward something where everyone wins, rather than letting it fester into the kind of problems that lead to seriously bad outcomes where people get hurt or killed.

Like what happened with the original timeline's Leviathan fight, if I remember correctly. He completely fucked up that situation by trying to solo-kill a Leviathan.

"Friend Armsmaster, it is such a joyous occasion that you decided to join us in this glorious gathering!" I greet the older man, extending an open hand as he approaches across the rooftop.

The cape takes my hand and shakes it firmly with a professional nod, though I can see behind his visor that his eyes are systematically scanning both of us.

"True Might. Oracle." He glances at Futaba's absurd disguise—the layered masks and LEGO helmet combo—but doesn't comment on it. "Your message indicated this was time-sensitive. What requires a face-to-face meeting that couldn't be communicated over PRT secure channels?"

Straight to business, no small talk. Exactly what I expected.

I simply pat Futaba's shoulder, and she sighs dramatically before stepping forward to take the lead.

"Right, so..." she starts, then pauses and adjusts her ridiculous helmet. "First off, thanks for coming. I know this whole 'secret rooftop meeting' thing is super sketchy, but we've got good reasons."

Armsmaster's posture remains rigid, arms crossed. "Continue."

"So, you should know by now that I'm Oracle, since you mentioned it moments ago," Futaba says, getting straight to the point.

"Correct," Armsmaster states matter-of-factly. "Your intelligence network has proven remarkably effective. The question is how you're obtaining that intelligence."

Hacking and planting informants, but that’s beside the point.

"We'll get to that. But first—we need you to disable any links, communications, recorders, trackers—anything connected to a network. Turn everything off. We need secrecy for this."

Armsmaster stiffens visibly at that request. Fair reaction, honestly—we're asking him to go completely dark.

But come on…

"You're asking me to compromise my situational awareness and accountability measures," he says flatly.

"You need to trust us," Futaba presses. "What we're about to tell you is extremely sensitive. If it gets back to the wrong people, a lot of people are going to die."

Good point girl.

There's a tense standoff for a moment. I can see Armsmaster clench his jaw.

Finally, he takes a deep breath and exhales slowly before nodding curtly. He presses something on his helmet, then taps his right bracer a few times.

"There. All recording devices, communication links, and tracking systems have been temporarily disabled." His tone makes it clear what he is currently feeling. "This had better be worth it."

I hope he actually did turn everything off and isn't just pretending. But trust has to go both ways in situations like this, and honestly, if we can't trust people to help, we're already screwed.

"Thank you. And second—whatever we discuss here cannot be shared with Director Piggot. You may discuss it with someone you absolutely trust, but never Piggot, or things will go south extremely fast. This is non-negotiable."

The woman would absolutely fuck everything up, either by overreacting with excessive force or leaking information through her own security holes when contacting the director Costa Brown.

Armsmaster's posture becomes noticeably more defensive, his shoulders tensing. He looks directly at me, and I nod firmly while giving him a confident thumbs up in support of Futaba's condition.

He's silent for several seconds and grunts again. "You're asking me to actively conceal intelligence from my direct superior. That's not just crossing lines—that can have dire consequences to me if this goes wrong. I need to understand why before I agree to that condition."

"Because Coil has infiltrated the PRT ENE at multiple levels," Futaba says bluntly. "We don't know if we got ALL his moles yet, but we know he has access to classified information and parts of your network.. Anything that goes through official channels gets back to him within minutes. So start working on that once you return."

Armsmaster is quiet for another moment before giving a single, reluctant nod. "Understood. This is… troubling to know."

So he believes us, good.

"Worry not, my stalwart friend!" I boom, trying to inject some confidence into the tense atmosphere. "The truth we share shall illuminate the path of justice and vindicate your righteous trust in our cause!"

The protectorate member glances at me briefly before returning his attention to the Japanese girl.

She clear he throat before explains the current situation; starting with Skidmark's death, which Armsmaster was already aware of, moving to Coil's extensive operations and potential plans, the ABB preparing for a major assault which she has been trying to delay, and finally, the most critical part: the bombs planted throughout the city's underground infrastructure as Coil's insurance policy.

She pulls out a paper map of the city where it has marked many spots. Honestly, that's just her calculations and hunches where they might be based on the bunker and tunnel network that she and Lisa were able to dig up, which were attached to the map as well.

Armsmaster leans forwards and points at the map before grabbing it and studying the information with intense focus. 

"It makes sense why the need for secrecy now." he finally says. "A villain who has breached our systems is grave, I don’t want to believe it but it does explain plenty of things. It worries me that his infiltration is deep enough that he has everyone's identities."

As far as I remember he knows of all Empire capes real identities and other individual capes. I don’t know if he has the Protectorate or Wards identities as well.

"Exactly. We're dealing with someone who's maintained a good grip on PRT ENE and the city's underworld for years. He's patient, methodical, and paranoid. He probably has backup moles we haven't identified yet, or redundant systems I couldn't trace during my investigation. That's why it's extremely important to keep everything compartmentalized to just us. We'll handle Coil himself, we have the silver bullet to finish him but we cannot act until we defuse his contingency plans."

His real identity.

"The bombs are the priority," The hero states firmly as he folded the paper. "If those detonate in the right pattern across the city, the city could crumble in a hole. Thousands of casualties would be a conservative estimate. You are right, we cannot let this threat continue hanging on everyone."

"Exactly! The power of evil must not be allowed to instill such terror upon the innocent!" I declare, thumping my chest with conviction. "Justice demands we act with both courage and wisdom!"

"So I assume you have another plan for this," Armsmaster says, his tone making it abundantly clear this isn’t time for jokes or half backed ideas.

"Yeah, we do. And it's actually fairly straightforward in concept, though complex in execution," Futaba confirms.

"I'm listening." He crosses his arms again, waiting.

She pulls out a letter envelope which promptly hands over. "You can check this file later which has all the important details, but here's the operational overview: The ABB will launch a full-scale coordinated attack within the week. We cannot stop it at this point. They'll take over Merchant territory easily with minimal resistance since the Merchants not only lost their leadership but also access to money and their drugs. Simultaneously, they'll attack Empire holdings and potentially PRT facilities, because they have the numbers to sustain a multi-front engagement."

"The entire city will be occupied with gang warfare," Armsmaster says, following her logic. "Emergency services stretched thin, Protectorate forces engaged on multiple fronts..."

Yeah, because they won’t only be engaged in defending what is considered PRT territory but they have to go to the Empire and ABB as well to protect the people caught in the crossfire.

"Right. That's where Coil comes in. During the chaos, he'll be busy coordinating his mercenary forces to keep outside gangs and opportunists from entering the city and claiming territory. Everyone will be too occupied to notice what's happening underground. That's our window. We'll be relying on you and a team to locate all the bombs and neutralize them during the mayhem. Most of them are in the underground bunker system beneath the city."

"A team?" Armsmaster's tone carries skepticism. "Who exactly are you proposing I work with on an unauthorized operation?"

"The Claw Patrol. They're an independent hero team, yes, I know they might look like a joke and only have family friendly capes but they are highly capable and experienced, perfect for this kind of mission. Especially with Ragdoll's powers. Plus, we have reason to believe Coil has people held captive down there besides mercenaries and other capes on his payroll protecting the facility."

Well, we only know for certain that Squealer is down there in a cell after Coil grabbed her. But it wouldn't be surprising if there are more captives we don't know about yet. Still, he is capable enough if he gets access to the Bunker and with assistance from the Claw Patrol and Dragon he can locate the bombs and access Coil’s network.

Armsmaster processes this for a moment. "I'm familiar with the Claw Patrol's reputation. Competent, professional, maintain acceptable collateral damage ratios." He pauses, then adds, "I can see how their skill set would be useful for infiltration and threat neutralization. And I would need protection and tactical support while disarming the explosives, especially since they'll likely have secondary triggers or dead-man switches if one is deactivated improperly."

"Exactly," Futaba says, sounding relieved he's seeing reason. "Plus, they're good people, they actually give a damn about saving lives instead of just glory."

He doesn't react to that last comment. "Understood." 

"So you're in?" Futaba asks directly.

There's a pause as Armsmaster considers everything she just told him. And Futaba practically held her breath waiting for the response.

Meanwhile, I maintain my smile.

"I'm in," he finally says with a firm nod, unfolding his arms. "If you can get more information, send them to me immediately, I need as much information as possible no matter how insignificant it might be."

My friend just pumped a first in victory.

"Crystal clear." Futaba confirms. "We're on the same side here, after all."

"Then we have an accord." Armsmaster extends his hand, and Futaba shakes it firmly despite her ridiculous disguise.

I extend my hand as well. "Together, we shall strike a mighty blow against the forces of villainy! Let the city know that we stand united to protect it from the ugly clutches of evil!"

As soon as he takes my hand, I grin because I want to do something... let's say heroic.

Before he can react, I pull him closer and wrap my free arm around his shoulders to prevent any escape. "Your justice shines brightly upon all, noble Armsmaster! Come, let us proclaim our righteous unity so the city may know the combined power of our heroic hearts!"

"FOR JUSTICE!" 

Heh, couldn't resist.

The Protectorate leader just stares at me through his visor, completely frozen in what I can only assume is a mixture of confusion and growing regret about agreeing to work with me.

Finally, he sighs in deep resignation and raises a fist with all the enthusiasm of someone being forced to take part in corporate fun. "For... justice."

HA, got him.

"MAGNIFICENT!" I laugh boisterously as I release the older hero and pat his back with perhaps a bit too much force, making him stumble forward slightly.

Oracle just waves her hand in goodbye while desperately trying to stop herself from laughing out loud. I can hear her muffled giggling through all those masks.

Armsmaster straightens his armor with as much dignity as he can muster, adjusts his helmet, nods curtly to both of us, and then heads back toward the ladder access without another word. 

Moments later, we hear his motorcycle engine roar to life and fade away into the distance.

As soon as he's gone, Futaba tears off the LEGO helmet and throws it away with a loud gasp of relief, though she still has multiple face masks covering her features. "Ugh, next time I'm picking my own helmet. That thing was suffocating and the eyeholes were terrible."

I just roll my eyes and turn my back to her, crouching slightly.

She quickly understands and scrambles onto my back, settling into position. "I really hope this plan works, Daniel. We're putting a lot of trust in him."

"Of course it will succeed, my friend!" I declare automatically, the words flowing without my control. "Justice recognizes justice, and my heart knows that the righteous flame within our friend Armsmaster burns true! All it needed was proper guidance to shine brightest at the most critical moment!"

"Huh, that was actually quite eloquently put," Futaba comments, sounding genuinely impressed despite herself. 

Yeah, she's right. Thanks, brain—I couldn't have worded it better myself even if I tried. 

"So now drop me home so you can go on your date," she says casually, like she's discussing the weather.

Of course, just a normal patrol, dropping off my hacker friend and then—

Wait, WHAT?!

I turn my head sharply to look at her over my shoulder, eyes going wide with shock.

"What, didn't I... oh, I didn't tell you yet, did I?" She sounds way too casual about this revelation.

Silence. Just complete, stunned silence on my part.

"I might have... possibly... maybe... promised to set you up on a date with Pixie-Bob from the Claw Patrol to secure their help with the operation," she admits in a rush, her words tumbling out faster and faster. "Which now sounds really stupid in hindsight because we probably would've gotten their help anyway without any kind of exchange since they're, you know, actual professional heroes who care about saving lives and stopping villains and... yeah?"

I just stare at her, completely dumbfounded. I let her slide off my back and turn around to face her fully, needing to see her expression behind all those masks to confirm I didn't just hallucinate that entire sentence.

"Ah, etoooo... bleh." She makes an awkward sound and does that ridiculous gesture with her hands on her head, trying to look cute and apologetic.

Are you SERIOUS, woman?!

I yank out my phone and type furiously: 'You're literally pimping me out now?!’

"Hey, I was trying to be proactive!" she protests defensively, backing up slightly. "You still have that stupid debt to pay off, and you told me yourself that you need a real confession to capture waifus!”

This girl…

-----------------------------------

I'm walking through downtown Brockton Bay dressed in civilian clothes—a blue fitted shirt and a pair of baggy jeans layered over my hero costume, just in case. I'm also wearing a white cap pulled low over my face, hoping it'll help me blend in better.

Of course it doesn't work. Not even close.

I still stand out like a sore thumb because I'm massive compared to everyone else around. People still do double-takes when they pass me, though at least they're not immediately mobbing me for autographs. Maybe the company's defenses are doing some work? Or maybe people just assume a guy this big can't possibly be True Might without the full costume and dramatic entrance.

Whatever the reason, I'll take it.

It feels weird walking around in normal clothes after spending so long in my hero outfit. The jeans are comfortable enough, but everything just feels... different. Less secure, maybe? Or just unfamiliar after months of being in costume constantly.

After walking a few blocks, I spot the place in the distance—a simple family restaurant where Futaba promised the date would take place. Not romantic or high-end, just a casual dining spot with outdoor seating. I guess she didn't go completely overboard with this setup, which is... something, at least.

This whole situation is still bizarre. How am I even supposed to talk with someone on a date when I can't hold a normal conversation? Writing everything down on my phone would be awkward as hell, and I really don't want to reveal that particular secret about my condition unless absolutely necessary.

I could use that consumable item to temporarily disable that stupid speech affliction for a day, but I don't want to waste it so soon. Then again, maybe this is exactly the kind of situation I've been saving it for?

Ugh, I'll decide when I get there.

But when I finally arrive at the restaurant, I find something completely unexpected.

The entire Claw Patrol team is there—all four of them dressed casually out of their hero costumes and without their usual makeup and accessories. Mandalay's in a simple blue blouse and jeans, Tiger's wearing a casual button-up with a brown blazer, Ragdoll's bouncing around excitedly in a colorful yellow sundress, and Pixie-Bob is there too, looking extremely embarrassed in a pink shirt and long white skirt.

This is definitely not what I was expecting.

Ragdoll spots me first and immediately waves both hands enthusiastically over her head with manic energy. "Over here, over here! We're right here!"

I approach the group, raising my hand to wave back in greeting, but I stop short when Mandalay and Tiger suddenly grab Pixie-Bob by the shoulders and forcibly push her into a deep bow.

"I'm so sorry!" Pixie-Bob blurts out, her face bright red. "I didn't mean to take advantage of you just to get a date! It was completely wrong of me to word it that way to your friend! I was being selfish and unprofessional!"

Mandalay keeps a firm hand on Pixie-Bob's shoulder, her expression taking a fake smile, you could see the metaphorical angry mark on her head. "What she means is, we had absolutely no idea what our teammate was doing behind our backs. Sneaking around to steal my phone and making deals without us—that's completely inappropriate behavior, and we want you to know we would have helped with your mission, regardless."

Tiger nods.. "We're heroes. We don't negotiate compensation for doing our duty to protect the people."

Oh. Well, this is unexpected but actually pretty cool.

I can't help but grin. This is so much better than the awkward solo date scenario I'd been overthinking for the past two hours.

"WORRY NOT, NOBLE ALLIES!" I boom, thumping my chest. "There is absolutely nothing to apologize for! Gathering with fellow champions of justice in the name of camaraderie is always a welcome occasion! The bonds of heroic fellowship strengthen us all and forge friendships that transcend mere obligation!"

Pixie-Bob straightens up slowly, still looking mortified but also relieved that I'm not angry. "So... you're really not mad? Not even a little bit?"

"The pursuit of friendship and companionship requires no justification or apology!" I declare, gesturing expansively with both arms. "Let us break bread together as comrades in arms, united in our righteous cause to spread justice!"

Ragdoll immediately perks up even more, which I didn't think was physically possible. "Yes! Group dinner! This is way better than a weird, awkward DOUBLE date anyway! We can all hang out!"

"Tomoko..." Mandalay says with a tired sigh.

"What? It's completely true! This is way more fun for everyone!" The hyperactive woman moves and grabs my arm—or tries to, her small hands barely wrapping around my forearm—and starts pulling me enthusiastically toward the entrance. "Come on, come on! They have really good burgers here and amazing milkshakes, and I want to hear all about your fight with Hookwolf!"

Yeah. This is what I need before everything goes to hell.

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AN: Next Chapter Dragon Hunter. And no surprise date for our hammy hero.