10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 111 - Thinking One Step Ahead

Funny, really. These wannabe rich guys and their selective morality always made for the best comedy. But if it gave them power, who cared?

"Do you all think the same as I do?" one of them muttered, licking his dry lips, his eyes darting toward the others as they realized this was their golden ticket.

Clearly, that serum would drastically boost their physical strength, making them powerful enough to crush the heroes who had been hunting them.

"Yes, it could be our chance..."

All of them were united, testosterone and adrenaline spiking as they decided on their next move.

CREAAAK.

A heavy metal door at the back of the den groaned open.

The villains turned sharply, weapons half-raised, muscles tense.

From the damp shadows stepped a tall, striking woman. She wore a sleek, glossy black leather trench coat that was cinched tightly at her narrow waist. The material clung mercilessly to the generous flare of her hips and the heavy, pronounced swell of her breasts with every slow, deliberate step she took. A silver-tipped cane tapped rhythmically against the floor.

A dark, minimalistic mask covered the upper half of her face—just enough to make it impossible to read her eyes, though her plump, gloss-painted lips were visible, set in a cold, unreadable pout.

She stopped at the very edge of the flickering light, her silhouette dangerously alluring.

"You’re all going to die if you keep sitting here panting like foolish dogs," she said plainly. Her voice was incredibly low and smooth—like warm silk stretched tightly over a razor’s edge.

Razorback frowned, his eyes dropping briefly to the deep V of her coat before snapping back up. "And who the hell are you supposed to be, sweetheart?"

The woman tilted her head, a dark amusement playing on her glossy lips. "Someone who deeply despises wasting useful assets. But apparently, I severely misjudged the quality of this current batch."

"What’re you on about?" Sootshade rose halfway from his seat, his hand gripping a sidearm. "You think you can just sway your hips in here and spout nonsense?"

She chuckled—a dry, breathy sound that was almost pitying.

"Let me simplify it for your crude, little minds, then. The broadcast? The serum? The so-called ’unguarded’ transport?" She leaned forward slightly, the leather of her coat creaking softly as it stretched over her chest. "It’s bait. Very, very pretty bait. And you are the starving mice."

The room tensed violently.

Coiljaw scoffed, baring his jagged teeth. "Bullshit. That serum came from Cruxius’s own leak."

"Of course it did," she said coolly, tracing a gloved finger along the silver head of her cane. "Which is exactly why it’s so incredibly convincing."

"You’re bluffing."

She shifted her weight, popping one hip to the side. "You genuinely believe a billionaire corporate heir—who profits handsomely off both sides of a war—suddenly wants to empower street trash like you?" She let that hang in the heavy air for a moment. "How... utterly adorable."

"Shut your mouth, bitch," Sootshade snarled, stepping forward. "You think you know everything—"

"No," she said, cutting across him without ever raising her smooth tone. "I do know everything. That’s precisely why I’m standing here looking at you. And you are all about to die."

They bristled. Chairs scraped against the concrete as they gripped their weapons—but a deep, creeping hesitation was visible now. Doubt infected them.

"I could explain the intricate layers," she continued, examining her manicured fingernails as if entirely bored by their existence. "The expertly planted intel. The subtle, monetary push from your trusted informants. Even the exact, calculated time you were supposed to make your move. But frankly..."

She looked up. Her masked face reflected the flickering neon light, her red lips curving into a terrifying smirk.

"...I’ve found that explaining things to dumb men only delays the inevitable."

Razorback surged forward, roaring. "Why you—!"

She merely raised a single, elegant hand.

Three shadows materialized in the doorway behind her—silent, fully masked, and heavily armed. In one flawless, synchronized movement, they stepped into the room and raised their matte-black weapons.

Pfft. Pfft. Pfft.

Silencers whispered deadly secrets into the room.

Blood sprayed thickly across the cracked concrete. Razorback dropped first—his massive head jerking back, his skull splitting like a melon.

Then Coiljaw fell, dead before he even managed to turn his thick neck. Sootshade tried to dive behind the metal table for cover, but a third bullet caught him clean through the temple, painting the wall behind him crimson.

The remaining two barely had time to scream before they were put down.

One of them, gasping and choking on his own blood, crawled weakly across the floor, his shaking hand outstretched toward her immaculate leather boots.

"H-Help..."

The woman stepped forward smoothly, the heels of her boots clicking. She lifted her cane high—

CRACK.

A sickening, wet crunch echoed off the walls. Dead silence returned to the den.

She stood perfectly still in the middle of the fresh carnage, stepping neatly over the growing pool of blood so as not to ruin her footwear.

Finally, she turned to her masked agents, her face completely unfazed, and nodded once.

"Burn everything. Make it look like a messy, internal betrayal. No survivors, no records. Let the serum rumor spread organically—it will lead the next desperate batch into the trap even faster."

The agents bowed deeply, silently, before instantly setting to work.

As she turned, about to walk away into the shadows, her gaze caught the broken television screen. She stopped.

Looking at Cruxius’s sharp, handsome face still broadcasting on the screen, her cold composure completely fractured. Her breath hitched slightly, a dark, heavy heat suddenly pooling in her lower belly. Her glossed lips twisted into a dangerously obsessive, deeply flushed smile beneath her mask.

Reaching out, she traced the air toward his image. In a hushed, breathless whisper dripping with twisted lust, she murmured, "...This time, we will definitely die together, my evil man."

"Mr. Cruxius, is this a declaration of war?"

"Do you have proof the Association ordered the hit?"

"Are you blaming Eventide directly?"

"What does the Blac Corporation plan to do next?"

"Will you press charges against the Hero Association?"

"Do you fear for your life now?"

Cruxius stood from his seat at the podium and turned, making his way out through the exit, drowning out the frantic barrage of questions. Darithi followed closely behind him, her tailored bodyguard suit hugging the sleek, athletic lines of her figure perfectly. He had done exactly what he needed to do—give a press conference to instigate the masses and force them onto the path he had decided for them.

"Master, why did you tell me to find a location near Zone 7 if you were already considering Station Kael?" Darithi inquired, her tone perfectly even, though the slight tilt of her head betrayed her curiosity. He had previously instructed her that his strategy was to announce the details of the gene serum for the train passing through that particular station, making this secondary order seem contradictory.

"...Don’t be too curious, Darithi," Cruxius said, his hands casually tucked in his pockets. He glanced back over his shoulder, offering her a lazy wink.

It was an expected question, but his mind was elsewhere. Still, knowing he should at least leave her a clue, he added, "You see, some smart fellow might want to die together with me... So, shouldn’t I be one step ahead of them?"