Chapter Eight

This is what I get for wanting to be involved more directly, Haruki thought.

Ever since the emergence of cults and the proof that gods and monsters were involved, supers were popping up all over the place. One such group had seized control of a government data storage facility. Four skinnier square office formed a square perimeter around a round central building. The team assembled and mobilized to a safe distance.

“Laser Hammer,” Matomaru pulled a thick USB drive from a secure case and handed it to Haruki. “We’re going to run this operation in two phases. The first phase, you’re going to go into the main building and use your speed and flight to stay out of sight until you can sneak into the server room and deploy this program to download the data we need and shut out their control of the security system.”

“Understood.” Haruki slipped his helmet on and memorized the patterns of cameras on each floor.

“Phase two,” Matomaru continued, “will be the team using your helmet camera’s recordings of the main building to aid in their capture of it. While they do that, you will secure the outer four buildings, which no doubt have a lot of enemy supers lying in wait.”

So, Haruki snuck in through an HVAC access vent on the outside of the building. It took quite a bit of maneuvering to get into the open area of the lobby, but he snuck into the corner. The ceiling had half a dozen cameras on rotating axes. They saw the entire area of the lobby, but not at once. Normally, no one could move fast enough to avoid being seen by at least one. With his flight and speed, however, he quickly zoomed from one blind spot to another, effortlessly taking advantage of half-second-long gaps before another camera rotated to cover the spot. The whole time, he recorded footage of the lobby on his helmet camera and securely transmitted it back to the van.

The stairwell and second floor had impressive security, with thick muscled soldiers-for-hire patrolling with guns. He zoomed past before they saw him. The second floor had ventilation access to the server room. It would be infeasible for anyone without flight to traverse the narrow ducts. As he carefully slipped across narrow ninety-degree turns, he found the precise vent he needed.

The vent gave access to the floor of the rear of the server room. He counted to fifteen in his mind and slid the vent grate aside and flung himself in. The server room had four cameras, and there were exactly two blind spots. One of them was in front of the server he needed, and the other was across the room. Fortunately, the tall server racks meant he couldn’t be seen if he stayed close to the ground and moved fast enough. They don’t have a super in here, because they don’t want a fight ruining the vital information.

He propelled forward across a maze of servers and arrived in front of the rack he needed. Sliding the front open, he slid the USB drive from his pocket into the slot, then scooted quickly across the floor to the other blind spot.

One, two, three, he counted mentally, until he got to six. Then he dashed back to the server and retrieved his drive.

From there, it was a nerve-wracking series of stops and starts, jaunting from one blind spot to another, each time avoiding attracting attention. The whole time, the guards expected an assault from the entrances. At no point did someone look up to expect an overhead sneak.

“Got it.” Haruki handed the USB drive to the second-in-command.

The rest of the team reviewed the footage from his helmet camera. Matomaru placed the drive in the secure case and set it aside. “We’re deploying now,” Operative said. The team followed him out the van and into an underground access tunnel the building had.

“Deploy to the outer buildings and secure the compound,” Matomaru said. “There’s going to be a ruckus once the supers realize they’re being attacked.”

“Got it,” Haruki replied.

He zipped between traffic barriers set up to provide hiding spaces. The first building in the lower left quadrant had the fewest number of supers his senses picked up. He burst through the door. Six supers, some playing cards, some drinking, and one playing a Nintendo Switch, swore and launched into action. He knocked a muscular man in the side of the head, who dropped with a thud. Bursts of energy soared past him as he ducked and weaved, dodging fists and projectiles alike. A punch got parried into a kick that sent a super sprawling. He turned out of the path of a plasma sword and elbowed the super in the chest. One groan later and the man was flat on the floor. Before he could turn, a telekinesis field slammed him against a concrete pillar. He leveraged his power and thrust forward, plowing through the field and driving a knee into the face. One by one, he super sped the enemies to the police, who placed devices on them to restrain their powers.

The second building proved much like the first. He plowed through a handful of supers like a train through snow. These villains might take on a street-level hero, but they were no match for him. After capturing them, he moved into the third building.

The moment the door opened, an invisible wall of punches greeted him. Through sheer will, he powered through and into the building. The man moved so fast he saw nothing. Shifting into super speed revealed the runner. A speedster in a green jacket and black pants stared in shock as Haruki grabbed him and drove an extended arm into his chest. The man shot forward and Haruki ducked to the side and drove a flat palm into the upper chest. The speedster hit the concrete pillar in a shower of dust and coughed up his lunch.

“You son of a…!” The speedster shot forward and threw a volley of punches. Haruki sped under the fist, came up with a rising knee, then laid him out with an uppercut.

“Come on,” Haruki said. “You’re almost as fast as one of my teammates and you feel like being a third-rate servant?”

The speedster shot to his feet. Before Haruki could do anything, the man’s hand zipped between his pocket and his mouth. What the hell?

Haruki’s thoughts were soon answered. The man chomped down on something, and a sickly green aura overcame him. The man’s muscles swelled to twice their size, and his face contorted in an ecstatic sneer.

“What?” was all Haruki had a chance to say before a fist slammed into him and drove him through a pillar. He recovered just in time to be smashed by a hurricane volley of punches. Whatever the speedster had taken increased his strength and speed by astronomical amounts.

“Not so strong or fast now, are ya!” The man snatched Haruki up by the neck and plowed a flat palm into his solar plexus.

Haruki threw a punch but the man moved his head aside. He delivered a kick to the chest that knocked the wind out of the speedster. In response, the man dashed up to a far wall and drove him more than a foot into the concrete. The man ripped him free and tossed him like a rag doll.

The man dashed forward and slammed dozens of punches into Haruki. I’ve got one shot, Haruki thought. When one fist collided with his shoulder, he reached with all his speed and latched the wrist with full force. The man stared in disbelief and swung his other fist. When it made contact, Haruki again latched the wrists. “Got you!”

Haruki flew up three feet off the ground and absorbed painful kicks from the man. He struggled against the grip like an octopus. With a shout, Haruki pulled his legs up, drove them straight into the speedster’s chest, and crashed down to the ground.

The speedster let out a scream of agony as the force of the impact shattered the concrete floor. Haruki gasped and pulled back.

The man tried to pull himself to a standing position, but his ribs were broken and he bled from several serious wounds. Before he could say a word, the green aura overtook him again, except this time, he let out a guttural groan of agony. He shrank in muscularity until he resembled a dried mummy, barely able to move.

Haruki grabbed the speedster and took him to the drop-off point.

“The hell happened to him?” Matomaru asked.

Haruki fumbled through the speedster’s pockets. In it, he found a small plastic baggy with a single green pill in it. “This.”

Matomaru held the pill up to the light. “So, now we have power-enhancing drugs.”

Haruki sighed. “Yeah, as if things aren’t complex enough.” He sped away and through the fourth and final building. One bit of good news was that whatever this power-enhancing drug was, there was only the one person who had it. So, apparently, it was either difficult to produce or acquire. He captured several more enemy supers and brought them into custody.

Back at base, Kensuke stared at the chemistry report with a look of frustration that put fear into Haruki. The boss usually had annoyance or calm coolness on his face. To see the head of the Japanese super program staring tensely at a printout was unnerving. The aging man slapped the sheets down on the table. “Well, at least there’s no evidence this is widely available.”

“You mean,” Haruki replied, “that your guys haven’t seen it before?”

The boss let out a sigh that shook Haruki to his core. “No.” He rubbed his temple. “We’re fully in the realm of gods and monsters now, and I’m just not prepared for this.” He turned to Haruki. “All we can do is keep going.”

Haruki took the sheets and read them at super speed. “Hold on, it says the effects are magical.” Kensuke nodded. “I could’ve told you that.”

“Superpowers have existed for centuries,” Matomaru entered. “We’ve just usually had so few people interacting with it we can keep it quiet.”

“So,” Haruki replied, “it’s normal chemistry and physics and some isn’t?”

Matomaru pointed out. “The few bits we were able to extract from the pills indicate it draws energy from somewhere else.”

Haruki stared at the sheet. He might not have been the best student, but he knew physics at least. “Thermodynamics.”

“Exactly,” Matomaru said. “The guy gained a substantial amount of mass. That mass had to come from somewhere.”

“And,” Haruki added, “converting energy to mass means you need a lot of energy for a little mass, so an absolutely astronomical energy input is needed.”

“Which isn’t coming from here,” Kensuke cut in.

Haruki threw his hands up in frustration and let out a yell. This whole ordeal had become a tangled web of insanity, a typhoon of competing calamities with him at the epicenter. “I just. . .” He plopped down in a chair and ran his hands through his hair.

“Look,” Kensuke placed a supportive hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’m proud of how you’re holding up. We’re not getting through this without you, and I hope you understand I appreciate you.”

Haruki stared dumbfounded into the unusually genuine expression. “I, thank you, sir.”

“Take a shower,” Kensuke said. “Tomorrow, I’ve got a mission that might just distract you.”

It worked; Haruki perked up. “Tell me.”

“A mission to America,” Kensuke said.

Haruki flinched. “America?”

Matomaru presented him with a tablet. “Not just any mission. Getting important targets out of a dangerous situation.”

Haruki stared at the faces and names. American soldiers were caught behind enemy lines in the middle east. He’d have to get in and out without being seen. Sure, it revved him up to trade punches with enemy supers, but that wasn’t real hero work. That was the stuff of battle anime. Real heroics meant saving lives. “I’ll give it my best!”