Hero Hack: Reversing Heroes and Raising Harem-Chapter 68: This Ain’t Your Average B-Rank Job

Razorwaltz reached the cabin door.

One foot was already stepping out into the corridor.

The briefcase in hand.

But suddenly, she frowned.

Her arm resisted the movement.

"What...?"

She tugged harder, but the briefcase wouldn’t budge.

Her eyes narrowed.

She turned back and looked more closely.

A thin, almost invisible energy line ran from the base of the briefcase.

It connected directly to the man’s wrist.

Razorwaltz let out a long sigh... then smirked.

"I was planning to let you sleep, old man."

She dropped the briefcase back onto the table with a thud.

"But thanks to this... you end today."

She turned with a slow twist of her heel and raised her leg.

She aimed straight for his head.

---

Inside the man’s mind, something pinged.

A sudden energy disruption was detected by his subconscious reflex system.

His eyes opened.

Sharp and alert despite having just woken up.

The man’s gaze flicked up to see a foot slicing toward him like a blade.

Waltz Zone...

He instantly rolled sideways off the sofa.

Just before the air behind him shredded.

The seat where his head had been a second ago split into clean strips.

---

Razorwaltz clicked her tongue, lowering her leg.

"Tch. Lucky bastard."

She twirled once and reset her stance.

"But next time I won’t miss."

The man landed in a crouch.

He frowned deeply.

"Damn it... to think you’re already here."

His eyes glanced briefly at the briefcase.

It was still connected to him.

He rose to his feet calmly.

"You’re not here for me, are you?"

Razorwaltz cracked her neck, smiling.

"Don’t flatter yourself, professor."

"I’m here for what’s in that case."

---

Razorwaltz’s eyes flared with thrill as she lunged again.

Her leg sliced upward in a clean arc, powered by Waltz Zone.

She aimed straight for his throat.

But this time, the professor didn’t even move.

He just stood there, arms relaxed at his sides.

His eyes were locked on her incoming foot.

Razorwaltz grinned mockingly mid-strike.

"What’s wrong, professor?"

"Too scared to dodge?"

She smirked. "Don’t worry. It’ll be fast."

Her foot came within inches of his face.

It generated the deadly Blade Trace slashes behind it.

She had already visualized the scene.

His head splitting neatly, blood spraying the glass behind him.

But then—nothing happened.

Her foot stopped.

Clean. Silent.

No blood. No rupture. No impact.

Razorwaltz’s grin faded.

"...What?"

She blinked, pulling her leg back.

"Why didn’t it—?"

The professor exhaled slowly, adjusting his glasses.

"Thankfully, it was only a low-tier ability."

His voice remained flat and clinical.

"Damn it, you shouldn’t have announced it."

Before Razorwaltz could process the meaning, the professor raised his left arm.

The energy line linking him to the briefcase glowed.

The line split.

Another thread fired across the room.

It latched onto a second table nearby.

It pulled a sleek black pistol into the professor’s hand.

Snap.

BANG.

He fired without hesitation.

Razorwaltz’s eyes widened.

She moved to dodge, already enhanced by Waltz Zone.

But the bullet still caught her clean in the shoulder.

CRACK—!

"AGH—!!" she screamed, stumbling sideways.

She clutched her shoulder, stunned. "The hell?!"

"I was faster than you... inside my own zone?!"

Razorwaltz hissed, eyes narrowing.

The professor took a single step forward, expression unchanged.

"You should leave."

"Unless you want to find out how precise my next shot will be."

---

Razorwaltz slowly stood upright.

Her fingers still pressed against the bullet wound on her shoulder.

Blood trickled between her gloves.

But her eyes burned hotter than ever.

She gritted her teeth. "Damn you, professor..."

She rolled her shoulder, grimacing from the sting.

But she never backed down.

"I’m a villain. Getting injured is a daily routine."

She flicked blood off her fingertips.

""This is nothing."

Her smirk returned, but it was twisted with anger.

"But don’t think I don’t see through you now."

She pointed at him, eyes narrowing.

"You’ve got an ability to cancel others ability... and something else—a predictive trigger."

"That’s how you cancel my skill and that’s how you shot me inside my own Waltz Zone."

The professor’s eyes tightened slightly.

He didn’t deny it.

Razorwaltz stepped forward slowly.

"But despite all that, looking at your frame..."

She eyed his lean body.

His unarmored chest, and the slight stiffness in his left leg.

"You’re weak. Physically, you’re weak as hell, professor."

"Your abilities are doing all the work."

The professor’s jaw tensed, but he remained silent.

Razorwaltz smirked wider. "Hit a nerve?"

"Of course I did. See, being a female villain means I can’t just be strong."

She raised her chin proudly.

"I’ve got to be smarter. Meaner."

"More vicious than the men who want to kill me—or worse."

The professor said nothing.

She raised her leg again, eyes glowing under the cabin lights.

"So..."

"Professor..."

She smiled with sadistic grace.

"Got any last words?"

---

The professor remained still, his expression unreadable.

His gun remained steady, pointed directly at her.

But behind his narrowed eyes—

His mind was racing.

What the hell is this...?

She saw through my abilities instantly...

Waltz Zone, Blade Trace...

And she still processed how I moved, how I canceled her.

Who sent her?

Why was someone like her placed on a mission this deep into BB-bound rails?

B-Rank villains around here aren’t supposed to be this calculated.

He clenched his jaw.

For a split second, he made a choice.

"...I can pay you more."

His voice was quiet, even, but firm.

"I don’t know what they’re offering you—but I can double it. Triple it."

"You just walk out of this room... and forget this happened."

Razorwaltz raised an eyebrow, seemingly considering it.

The professor felt the tension in his spine lessen slightly.

If she takes the offer, I can recover and relocate the enhancer.

Maybe even track her later.

But then—

Razorwaltz’s lips curled into a sharp, cruel smirk.

"Of course not, professor."

She took a slow step forward, the briefcase still in her non-dominant hand.

"I’m not that stupid."

"I’m not like the other B-Ranks who only think about money."

Her eyes gleamed with ambition.

"I’m building a name. A record."

She raised her hand and slowly pointed to her temple.

"If I let you go now, that stain stays on me forever."

"I’m not carrying a scar like that into the A-Ranks."

The professor’s eyes twitched.

Damn it... she’s not just sadistic—she’s practical.

Smart. Focused.

She’s not here to play. She’s here to build reputation, power, and climb.

He gritted his teeth silently.

Why the hell did the one sent here have to be a smart one?

Not the loud, reckless types.

Not the usual killers who break under pressure.

No...

I get the intelligent, image-conscious killer who’s already planned three steps ahead.

Razorwaltz raised her leg again, smirking.

"So, professor..."

She grinned.

"What’s your last word?"

The professor’s mind snapped into focus.

He ran through options.

Defensive protocols, offensive tricks, the position of the briefcase.

Every remaining charge in his weapon.

I need a move. Now.

Think, damn it. Think.