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Rustle-
Within the Grand Assembly Hall of the New York Heroes Association Branch, the summoned committee members quietly took their seats. Unlike normal though, their eyes kept drifting toward the many empty chairs scattered throughout.
“Half are missing… it seems we took heavier losses than expected.”
“How many of them do you think saw it coming? We were completely unprepared.”
What they had thought was an indiscriminate act of terrorism was merely a distraction. Puppeteer’s attack three days ago had one single goal: the assassination of key individuals across the Association, government, corporations, and guilds through biological puppets she planted long ago.
“Isn’t that guy still alive? Why didn’t he show up here today?”
“They say he’s still hospitalized. His son and grandson were both turned into puppets.”
“…Tsk.”
Their survival… that didn’t mean they were okay. Close friends, trusted subordinates—and even family—had been puppets. The psychological toll of taking such people down was unimaginable.
“Just when it felt like the war was finally over… fuck.”
“…Maybe we got too comfortable.”
They assumed the worst was behind them, resulting in a severe underestimation of just how far the Demon Force could go.
With that dawning over everyone, a heavy silence settled over the room until the door near the podium swung open.
Step. Step. Step.
Every single murmur died; all eyes turned toward Gregory. He, who had suffered severe wounds three days ago, looked unshaken. In fact, there was even something about him that was even stronger: a hardened presence that weighed heavily on the room.
“Before we begin as the...
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