"He really used that. in the same range Master uses it."
A man with light red hair muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on the ground far below. He stood inside a helicopter, the warm metal floor vibrating faintly beneath his boots. Outside, the sun dipped beneath the horizon, casting a golden farewell before night fully claimed the sky. A faint breeze slipped through the open side door, carrying the scent of smoke and dust from the ruined city below.
"Send food for everyone," he said calmly to the woman seated behind him. "Also, call in higher-ranked Evolvers to start rebuilding. I want this done before sleeping time. And make sure to ask people about anything that vanished with their homes return it to them if possible."
The woman brushed a few loose strands of hair from her face and frowned. "But sir. this will cost billions of dollars."
He grinned. "Tell Ryuto to pay for it."
Then, without hesitation, he jumped from the helicopter.
The wind howled as he dropped, and when he landed, the ground beneath him cracked with a loud boom. Dust rose in the air, swirling gently in the cold breeze of the night. He turned back toward the stunned onlookers, cigarette between his lips, and smirked.
"Didn't that look like a superhero entry?"
A few meters ahead, people sat in neat rows, side by side, like students in a school parade. But their ragged clothes and bruised faces told another story they were criminals. Hardened ones. Yet none of them had run.
"What good little criminals," he said mockingly. "Sitting still even when you had the chance to run."
The night air was sharp now, cold enough to sting. It made the silence heavier, pressing down on them like a second punishment.
"Bastard. mocking us when you already know the reason."
A deep voice broke the silence. It came from a bald man with a thick scar running across his shiny scalp. One of the prisoners.
Minho's eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on the speaker. His grin widened.
"Oh my.. isn't that one of our famous SSS-rankers?" he said, pulling a cigarette from a slim box and placing it between his lips.
"What are you doing here?" the bald man asked gruffly, eyeing him with suspicion.
"What am I doing?" Minho echoed, lighting the cigarette with a flick of his thumb. "Well, I need you all to do some social service today. Help the Evolvers rebuild the city."
The bald man scoffed. "And why the hell would anyone do that?"
Minho blew out a cloud of smoke, his tone turning colder. "You're dead wrong if you think I'm giving you a choice."
A few hours passed. Now, it was around 11 PM.
The once-ruined city stood tall again, almost like nothing had ever happened. Roads were repaved, buildings reformed, debris erased like a dream fading after waking. The air still smelled faintly of scorched concrete and smoke, but the chaos was gone replaced by a strange calm that only followed disasters.
It was the work of over a hundred higher-rank Evolvers and lots of other lower ranks Evolvers. An impossible task made real in mere hours.
All over the city, people in white and green uniforms moved like organized waves. Some carried tablets or clipboards, stopping to talk gently with civilians, noting down everything they'd lost homes, belongings, offering blankets, water, a warm hand on the shoulder. Some Evolvers floated above rooftops, using their abilities to adjust structures with inhuman precision, while others lit up the dark alleys like walking lanterns.
Now, Minho stood in front of the freshly rebuilt prison its walls gleaming unnaturally clean under the pale moonlight. The same hands that once broke the city had helped raise it again. One by one, the prisoners were being escorted back inside, their footsteps slow, their bodies tired from the forced labor.
"Stop," Minho said, lighting another cigarette with the tip of his finger, the small flame dancing briefly in the cold night air.
The bald man halted. He turned, his scar catching the faint light as he gave Minho a sharp, irritated look.
"What is it now?" His deep voice rumbled like distant thunder.
Minho took a long, slow drag, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke into the crisp air. His eyes stared upward, as if counting stars.
"Work for me," he said casually, "and you're free."
The bald man's eyes narrowed. "You're the one who put me in here, remember? Why the hell would you be offering me freedom?"
He studied Minho's face, searching for a hint, a crack, something anything. But Minho gave him nothing. Just smoke and silence.
"You want freedom or not?" Minho asked coolly, dragging again.
A beat passed. Then another. The bald man's jaw tensed.
"What do I have to do in return?"
"No trouble. When I call, you show up. No questions. That's it," Minho said, turning slightly and dropping onto a nearby bench. The metal was cold, but he didn't seem to care.
The bald man stared at him for a moment longer. "Fine," he finally muttered with a nod.
Minho glanced toward a woman-the same woman from the helicopter. She was standing nearby and gave her a small nod. She stepped forward, handed the man a small key, a folded paper with an address, and a basic cellphone.
"That's where you'll be staying," Minho said simply.
The man took them without a word. And then he vanished, leaving behind only a brief gust of wind.
As the air settled, another voice cut through the quiet night.
"So now you're freeing criminals," the voice said, calm but edged. A man stepped into view, his presence sharp like a blade in the dark.
Ryuto.
Minho didn't even look surprised. He exhaled a curl of smoke, eyes still half-lidded with that same tired, unreadable expression.
"Had to do it," Minho said, his voice low as the smoke curled past his lips. "You find anything? About who was behind it?"
Ryuto shook his head, "Nah. And the bodies of the two guys I fought? Gone. Not even a clue left behind."
Without asking, Ryuto reached over and plucked the cigarette from Minho's fingers, crushed it under his heel with a soft crunch, and sat beside him on the cold metal bench.
Minho didn't even blink. Clearly, this wasn't the first time Ryuto had done that.
"You sure Jin didn't fry them in that blast?" Minho asked, his tone easy, like they were chatting about the weather.
Ryuto rested his arms on his knees. "Nope. He said he only took out one guy. The one with the eyepatch."
Minho leaned back, exhaling a quiet sigh. His eyes followed a slow-moving cloud drifting across the stars.
"This is gonna be a pain. It's a good thing people think it's Master who uses that attack at least it will hold the peace. For now atleast.."
The night air had a gentle chill to it, brushing past like a whisper. Silence stretched for a moment comfortable, tired.
Then the woman who had been standing nearby stepped forward, holding a tablet with a glowing screen and a long digital bill. She pointed at the space that needed Ryuto's signature.
Ryuto glanced at it. His eyes widened slightly.
"How many zeroes are in this?" he asked, holding it up.
Minho didn't even look. "Count yourself," he muttered, still gazing at the stars like they had the answers.
Ryuto sighed, signed without a second thought, and handed it back.
Now, the two of them sat there in silence. No words. Just the quiet hum of the rebuilt city in the background and the endless sky above.
[Chapter 26 end]