Convict Unit: Black Parade

Chapter 184 : Intermission: New Year’s Day (3)

Golden fissures spiderwebbed across the area.

The air shattered like glass, leaving behind a dense web of golden light. The threads wrapped around the wounded lying in the lobby and, in an instant, reassembled them.

From Mu-gung, who had been coughing up blood, to the dying security agents, everyone was restored to perfect health.

“Everyone, back off.”

The sound of high heels announced the arrival of a young woman in a white suit, a field jacket draped over her shoulders.

S-Rank Hunter, Death-Medic.

As her Domain Break subsided, she said, “Looks like these guys are here for me. Don’t get hurt for no reason. Scram.”

Mu-gung, her senses just returning, cried out urgently, “But Miss Medic…!”

“I said scram. Scrubs like you will only get in my way.”

At Death-Medic’s annoyed tone, Mu-gung bit her lip, bowed her head, and gestured to her comrades. The agents withdrew.

Death-Medic blew on a gaudily painted pinky nail and glared forward.

Iljimae, Jeon Woo-chi, and Chevalier gripped their weapons, radiating bloodlust.

“Heheheh, so you’re the famous healer, are you?”

“A healer on the front lines? How arrogant. You’ll be begging for your life soon enough.”

Imae Mask and Choraengi Mask jeered at her, while Butcher’s Mask remained silent. 

After sizing them up, Death-Medic broke into a grin.

“Sorry for the lousy hospitality, but you guys started the ruckus. You get it, right?” 

She gestured upwards. “How about we go upstairs, have a cup of tea, and talk things over? What do you say?”

Iljimae’s jaw fell slightly. “What kind of trick is this?”

“No.” Jeon Woo-chi raised a hand to silence Iljimae and smirked. “If one of the Five Heroes is brewing the tea herself, we have no reason to refuse.”

“Of course. It’s a rare opportunity. I’ve got lots of delicious teas. I’ll lead the way. Follow me.”

Death-Medic led them to the elevator. The three Villains followed close behind, weapons trained on her.

At this distance, even if she’s an S-Ranker, we can kill her before she activates her Domain Break. If she’s willing to corner herself for us, all the better.

Iljimae shot Jeon Woo-chi a glance. That’s why you’re going along with this, right?

Jeon Woo-chi, the team leader, offered no explanation. Iljimae gritted her teeth and pressed her blade closer to Death-Medic’s back.

Ding.

The elevator arrived. Death-Medic boarded first with a casual air. The moment she pressed the button for the top floor, the three Villains swarmed in, cornering her as the doors closed.

“So, my dear guests,” Death-Medic said as the elevator began to ascend. “May I ask what brings you here? Starting a riot in the middle of Seoul, in Hero Tower of all places… I’m worried about your liver health. Want me to take a look?”

“Sounds like you’re the one with guts to spare,” Iljimae snarled, pressing her blade against Death-Medic’s neck.

“Did getting worshipped as an S-Ranker make you forget what fear is? At this range, it wouldn’t matter if you were S-Rank or SSS-Rank. You die.”

The tip of the blade dug into her skin, drawing a trickle of blood. “You’re practically begging us to kill you. Hey, Jeon Woo-chi! How long are we gonna wait? Let’s get this over with!”

But Death-Medic’s tone remained nonchalant. “You know, for people whose job it is to heal, a lot of us can’t stand seeing others in pain more than we can’t stand our own.”

“…?”

“Your target is me, anyway. If I left you on the first floor, you’d just keep hurting more people.” Death-Medic smirked, looking back at the three Villains. “That’s the only reason I brought you up here.”

“Such a noble spirit of self-sacrifice.”

“But still… isn’t it strange?” Death-Medic tilted her head, her gaze drifting over the three masked figures. “Everyone makes the same mistake. They think I’m the weakest of the Five Heroes.”

“…?”

“But if we fight to the very end… I always win.”

In the next instant, she activated her Domain Break. Golden spiderwebs erupted from her back like wings.

STAB! SQUELCH! BANG-BANG-BANG!

The three Villains attacked without a moment’s hesitation.

Of the three, Iljimae and Jeon Woo-chi were cornerstone combatants of the Crimson Poverty Front, renowned butchers who specialized in slaughter.

Chevalier may have been new to their ranks, but he was a monster who had spent his life hunting monsters, a veteran hardened by countless battles.

Caught in a combined assault from these three, even the most seasoned Hunter would stand no chance.

For Death-Medic, a healer who typically stayed in the rear with little combat experience…

“Ah…”

She was instantly diced to pieces by their coordinated attack, unable to resist for even a moment.

As Death-Medic collapsed in a spray of blood, Iljimae muttered in disbelief, “The hell? I was a little nervous since she’s an S-Ranker, but isn’t she way too wea—”

She stopped mid-sentence.

Golden threads wrapped like bandages around the wounds covering Death-Medic’s body, then gently lifted her back to her feet. It was like a marionette righting itself, like a recording of her fall being played in reverse.

By the time Death-Medic had risen, all her wounds had vanished.

A cackle escaped her lips. “Ooh, that stings a little.”

“What…” The three Villains stumbled back, horrified.

“For a healer,” Death-Medic said, charging at them, “there’s a healer’s way of fighting.”

A panicked Jeon Woo-chi aimed his pistol and roared, “What are you talking about, you crazy little…!”

BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG!

Bullets tore through Death-Medic’s body, sending splatters of blood everywhere. Her slender frame whipped back and forth with each impact like a scarecrow in a gale. 

But in the time it took to blink, it was over. Her golden threads enveloped the wounds, and in the next moment, every injury was gone, as if it had all been a lie.

“What, is this seriously all you’ve got?”

No matter how many times Chevalier’s greatsword, Iljimae’s dagger, and Jeon Woo-chi’s bullets ripped her apart, Death-Medic healed in an instant, a leisurely smile on her face.

“You can’t kill me with this.”

The three Villains broke out in a cold sweat.

“That’s not healing, that’s resurrection!”

“Shouldn’t you at least feel pain? Fuck, why is she so calm?!”

Death-Medic grinned and charged again. “It’s a feature I don’t use on my patients, but I can use Pain Anesthesia on myself!”

“…!”

Inside the cramped elevator, the four of them became a tangled mess of violence. 

Every attack from the Villains, masters of killing, was a lethal strike. But against an S-Rank healer who recovered in the blink of an eye, they were meaningless.

She instantly regenerated any damaged area. Casually. As if her body wasn’t human flesh but a toy with replaceable parts.

Death-Medic lunged forward, thrusting out a hand trailed by golden threads.

“…!”

The gesture was slow, almost clumsy, but their instincts screamed not to let it touch them. The three Villains continued their assault, but whenever her hand drew near, they dodged just enough to avoid contact.

No matter how they tried to evade, however, this was an elevator. Their room to maneuver was fatally limited.

After taking one of Iljimae’s dagger thrusts to the gut, Death-Medic shot her hand forward and snatched Iljimae’s right wrist.

“Hah… finally caught one.”

“…!”

“Now, time for your shot.”

The next moment, the wrist in Death-Medic’s grip began to swell grotesquely.

“Huh?”

The strange phenomenon shot up Iljimae’s arm. She let out a piercing scream.

“Ah, AAAAAAAAGH! What is this?!”

Death-Medic was a healer. Her ability was to regenerate living things with precision by disassembling and reassembling them at a cellular level.

If I could just stop at the disassembly phase, it would be pretty decent for combat.

If she could arbitrarily stop the process or reverse the order, she could have been an outstanding fighter, not just a healer.

But her ability didn’t work that way. It was an ability that would, without fail, restore its target. That was why, in terms of combat, Death-Medic had always been considered the weakest among the S-Rank Awakened.

But that doesn’t mean it’s completely useless.

One thing she had learned as a Hunter was that the worst-case scenario always happens. So she had racked her brain for a way to apply her ability to combat.

This was the result of her research.

Over-Healing.

By touching a target, she could make their healing ability run rampant. The excessive regeneration would cause their body to break down completely.

But to induce a level of healing that went beyond normal, she had to make direct skin contact, not just use her threads. That was why she had lured them into the cramped space of an elevator.

To execute these Villains with her own two hands.

“AAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAGHHH!”

As her entire arm twisted into a grotesque shape, Iljimae shrieked in panic.

At that moment, Chevalier lunged forward with a grunt and severed Iljimae’s arm at the forearm.

Clutching the bloody stump, Iljimae trembled. “My—my arm! My arm!”

“Stop whining and focus!” Chevalier snarled, expertly resetting his grip on his greatsword. “Do not let that woman’s hands touch you.”

“You think so?” Death-Medic let out a manic giggle as she stepped toward them. “You think you have a choice?”

Only then did the three Villains realize. They thought they were the hunters, that this was a battlefield to their advantage.

They were wrong.

The hunter was the healer before them. This was her hunting ground.

And they were nothing but prey.

Screaming in panic, Iljimae swung her dagger with her one remaining arm. The three Villains clashed with the lone hunter in a final, desperate struggle.

The elevator continued its ascent, carrying the four of them locked in a brutal fight, never stopping.

***

Hero Tower, top floor.

Ding.

The elevator stopped.

The doors slid open, and a single figure stumbled out from the blood-soaked interior.

“Ugh.”

Brushing at her suit, once white but now stained crimson, Death-Medic grumbled, “Who do I bill for the dry cleaning?”