Hero Hack: Reversing Heroes and Raising Harem-Chapter 126: Hot Girl Summer but Violent

Zain leaned casually against the crumbling outer wall of the ruined train station.

He was still. Watching. Waiting.

Then—

Footsteps.

Multiple. Fast. Heavy.

His eyes narrowed.

He didn’t move—just dropped slightly into a crouch, fingers twitching.

He activated both Quick Step and Quiet Step to go to the nearest shadow.

Then he activated Fading in the Dark.

His form flickered, slipping into the shadows of a half-collapsed support beam.

His presence was erased in an instant.

He listened.

The footsteps grew louder.

Then he saw them.

A squad of six heroes emerged over the cracked ridge above the station entrance.

All lightly armored. Caution in their steps.

At the front—broad-shouldered, flame-trimmed combat gear, and a smoldering expression carved into a stone face.

Blazren.

Zain’s eyes narrowed sharply.

Blazren? What the hell are you doing here?

The veteran A-Rank stood tall, raising a clenched fist.

At once, the five heroes behind him halted, weapons ready but quiet.

A younger scout with short-cut gray hair leaned forward.

"Boss. This is the place the captured imitators mentioned."

Blazren gave a short nod, his eyes focused on the half-concealed entrance ahead.

"So this is it, huh?" he muttered.

"The place where they make their soldiers..."

Another hero stepped forward, gripping the hilt of a flame-forged sword.

"They called it the Burial Room."

"Said it’s where people go in and either come out as monsters..."

"Or don’t come out at all."

Blazren didn’t respond for a moment.

Then: "We move. Quiet. Fast. If she’s down there, she doesn’t leave."

Zain frowned from the shadows above.

So they got information too... from one of the imitators they caught.

He exhaled silently, eyes flicking toward the sealed gate Velra had entered.

Damn it, Velra’s already inside.

His mind raced.

If Blazren storms in now, this turns into a crossfire.

His jaw tensed.

But with Velra in full war mode. She won’t stop.

And they’ll mistake her for the enemy as she was also one.

Zain ran a hand through his hair slowly, then let out a breath.

Looks like I can’t sit this one out. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

Without a sound, he activated Quiet Step again.

The hero squad moved cautiously down the broken steps.

Zain followed from behind, unseen and silently.

---

The air inside the Burial Room was thick with heat.

Velra stepped slowly down.

Her eyes scanned the industrial chamber below.

Steam hissed from vents, and the entire floor was lit with a dull red glow.

Lining the walls were cages.

Dozens of them.

Inside—women. Branded. Shackled.

Eyes vacant or barely flickering with awareness.

Their bodies bore bruises and seal marks, their limbs hanging loose like broken marionettes.

Velra’s gaze sharpened.

They weren’t prisoners. They were inventory.

"Disgusting," she muttered.

Then—without warning—the heat intensified.

A hiss of pressure vented from above.

Someone dropped from the upper rail, landing with heavy force in front of her.

Meyra Dross.

Flame-orange hair slicked back.

One hand gloved, the other wrapped in metal-threaded bandages.

She wore a heat-insulated exo-suit stitched with runes and copper veins.

Across her back: molten chains slowly coiling and uncoiling like serpents made of fire.

"So," Meyra said, flexing her neck.

"You’re the one they’ve been talking about."

Velra’s eyes flicked to the moving heat lines on the floor.

She was already analyzing the arena.

"You’re not one of the slaves," she said flatly.

Velra raised her brow. "So you’re Meyra. The Warden."

Meyra smirked. "That’s right."

Velra’s tone turned colder. "You’re the one overseeing all this."

Meyra shrugged, pacing in a slow arc.

"Orders are orders. I don’t ask where they come from. I just make sure no one leaves."

Velra folded her arms, expression unreadable.

"And I don’t care where the orders come from. I just end the ones who give them."

Meyra chuckled. "Brave."

Velra nodded toward the cages. "You built this? Fed them heat, pain, obedience?"

"I forged them," Meyra said proudly.

"Steel breaks. Fire bends. Flesh—remembers."

Velra’s eyes narrowed. "They’re not weapons. They’re victims."

Meyra’s grin dropped. "They’re failures. And you’re about to join them."

She lifted her hand.

Flames ignited along her spine, sparking the rune-seals across her suit.

Velra’s stance shifted slightly.

"I don’t know who you were before this, Meyra."

"But today... you’re just another name I’m going to erase."

Meyra’s molten chains snapped once in the air.

"You think a name matters down here?"

Velra smiled sharply.

"No. But they’ll remember mine after you’re gone."

The heat surged between them.

The Burial Room trembled.

Meyra’s voice cut through the steam.

"Come then, Velvet Demon."

"Let’s see if those legs still dance when they’re cooking over fire."

Velra’s smirk never faded.

"Try me, Meyra. I brought heels for the occasion."

And the chamber roared to life.

---

The metal floor vibrated with pressure as Meyra stomped forward.

Valves hissed open across her back, unleashing short bursts of steam.

Velra didn’t wait.

Her legs moved first.

The moment her boot touched the floor, Trace Imprints flared behind her.

Meyra whipped her first chain, a horizontal sweep meant to cleave the platform in half.

Velra ducked low, sliding beneath it in one swift motion.

As she passed, her heel spun outward.

A kick laced with Venom Trace that left a green shimmer across the air.

It barely missed Meyra’s ribs.

"Fast," Meyra muttered.

Velra twisted upright, spun, and Blade Trace followed.

A thin slash hissed through the air behind her leg as she flipped back to her feet.

Meyra stepped into the strike.

Her obsidian-gloved hand caught the trace line and absorbing the force.

Velra’s eyes narrowed.

"You modified your body?"

"Heat-forged," Meyra grinned.

"And pressure-hardened."

She stomped again.

A wave of fire burst up from the floor vent behind Velra.

Velra leapt just in time, flipping onto a nearby railing, her silhouette arched like a dancer mid-spin.

"Cute," she said, now balancing on one toe.

"But heat won’t help if you can’t land a single blow."

Meyra roared—and two chains shot forward, flaming and rune-lined.

Velra dropped from the rail, sliding across the floor.

Trace Imprint followed behind her like a glowing net.

One of the chains caught a glowing trail—

BOOM.

The delayed detonation knocked Meyra off balance.

Velra landed smoothly.

"Let’s see how long you last once your temperature starts to drop."

Meyra’s eyes burned brighter.

"This is my place, Velvet Demon."

Velra smiled sharply.

"Then let me tear it open."