My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroines
Chapter 52 - Elbawar: a Beast or a Beauty?

Chapter 52: Chapter 52 - Elbawar: a Beast or a Beauty?

The meeting chamber of the Hero Association was quiet—too quiet for a room filled with the world’s most powerful protectors.

No windows, no press—just steel walls and one long table.

The air hung heavy with tension, dimly lit by overhead strips casting long shadows behind the seated heroes.

Each shadow stretched like a second self—jagged, warped, exaggerated—as if the power of those at the table could barely be contained in human form.

At the far end, a man sat still—back straight, face veiled behind strands of hair and half-darkness. No one addressed him directly. They didn’t need to.

The conversation moved without him, circling like vultures.

"Monster incidents are down. Drastically," said one suited man, thick glasses glinting with data reflected from his tablet. "Without disaster, there’s no help to offer. Our value slips each week, and now that press conference..."

"And donations. Media reach. Investor backing," another added, voice sharp—like he was calculating profit margins as he spoke. "The public was already bored; now they will show backlash, too."

"We need something to elevate our standing in society and regain former glory," one of them uttered in a lazy tone as if forced to participate in the meeting.

A figure—a young member and the only normal human—leaned forward, voice low. "Then maybe... we make our own disaster. What if we use every superhero to break those closed gates—aren’t you all supposed to be the strongest?"

That suggestion floated in the air just long enough for its weight to be felt.

"Pfft."

"Oh my, haha."

Then came the laughter—quiet, cruel, tired.

"You think we haven’t tried?" another hero said, arms folded, cloak coiled around him like smoke. "Elbawar himself tried to break one of them. It didn’t even budge."

"!?"

"What?!" The youngest member was clearly taken aback, his eyes drifting toward the man seated at the far end, hands folded as if he wasn’t part of the meeting—perhaps because his views were too important to be wasted on arguments.

After all, the world’s strongest hero, an SS-Rank, was a catastrophe in their own right. Yet even he couldn’t break those gates.

"Mortals are stupid." A few murmured in agreement. Some smirked. Others rolled their eyes. The air buzzed with subtle resentment—at how the youngest member, the only human among them, still believed superheroes were gods capable of the impossible.

Just like how some mortals always do.

Still, the figure at the head of the table said nothing.

Then, a sharp ring cut through the silence.

Everyone paused. The assistant, standing behind the table, hesitated—then glanced toward the man at the head. A flick of his finger. Permission granted.

The assistant pressed the speaker.

A distorted voice filled the chamber, crackling slightly, but unmistakably real:

// Ahem, hello Elbawar. Are you still clinging to that dramatic, pathetic god complex act of yours? //

’!’

Several heads turned. Eyes widened. One or two heroes shifted in their seats, all of them now staring toward the head of the table—where the man sat unmoved, unoffended.

But inwardly, they knew the caller had crossed a line.

// Let me introduce myself. I’m a supervillain named Father. Yeah, you can confirm that with your mothers too. //

"...This bastard." One of the heroes muttered, her mouth twitching as her hands tightened on the table.

But none reacted with the outrage they normally would—not in the presence of that man.

// I’ll be joining Zone 7 of the Villain Syndicate soon. Already got rid of two A-rankers. Oh, and I’ll definitely be releasing those videos—the ones from the Hero Association’s labs. The ones showing human experiments. //

A pause.

// And hey, Elbawar, why not tell the world that you’re actually a woma— //

BANG!

A loud sound cut the voice short. The speaker blew out in a burst of static.

No one flinched. But every hero stood now, fists clenched.

The final words hadn’t gone unnoticed.

The insult wasn’t just about secrets. It was a direct attack.

Silence fell like a blade.

"We shouldn’t act recklessly," one caped hero muttered, his shadow twitching behind him like something alive. "Things are already bad in the public eye, especially after Blacs."

"Elbawar, maybe that call was meant to provoke you... be cautious," a female hero added, her eyes fixed on the man. She felt it—this wasn’t just a slight against the Hero Association. It was personal.

"Should I go after that bastard?" another hero murmured, running a hand through his hair.

"What should we do next?" The question hung in the air, directed at no one and everyone.

The man at the head remained silent, clearly realizing that the caller’s threat about exposing the lab experiments—and their dark truths—would tip public opinion even further against them.

He looked at the others.

They looked back.

No one spoke.

"I will personally pay him a visit," Elbawar stated, his voice firm. Clenching his fists, he stared at the phone, knowing he had to reach that man at any cost—especially since he possessed a secret no one else ever should.

"But... why use a gun to crush a cockroach?" the only female superhero in the room slowly rose, stretching her back.

She caught a sharp, cold gaze from Elbawar—one filled with unmistakable killing intent. That was enough for her to decide: this matter needed handling now.

If a hero like Elbawar, the very face of the Hero Association, were to make a move and cause collateral damage, the backlash from their funders could be catastrophic.

Shareholders would not tolerate chaos. Their support could vanish overnight.

So she resolved to eliminate the problem at its root before things spiraled any further—especially after the controversial interview from the Blac family heir, which had already caused the board to consider implementing tracking methods on heroes.

To them, superheroes were still anomalies.

And ever since Ryken, the contract-based hero, tried to commit murder, the association had been under constant scrutiny—cornered, watched, and pressured.

If the shareholders pushed for that surveillance method—some suggested in that press meeting, they might be forced to follow through on that foolish idea.

With a nod, her body dispersed into mist, vanishing on the spot. She hurtled toward the Intelligence Department, intent on retrieving the call’s location data.

After that, she would handle the man herself—his voice already etched into her memory.

--

"...Announce the eradication of Villain Syndicate’s Zone 7," Elbawar said calmly, watching where she had vanished. His eyes closed, fingers drumming the table—thinking, calculating—before issuing the command.

"But, Elbawar, what if—" one of the heroes began, clearly concerned, trying to voice his doubts about such an attack that might complicate things for the hero association.

However, Elbawar opened his eyes and, in a composed tone, considering he had thought it through, added, "We can use the fall of Zone 7 to regain our glory back...it might be a good chance to get rid of two birds with one arrow."

Elbawar stated, closing his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, understanding that this was a good opportunity; by using this method, he would not only deal with the man who sent that message but also silence the heir of the blac family’s reckless statements.

"Oh, indeed, very wise of you, Elbawar," one after another, the praise for his wise presence of mind filled the room as they all realized that this could be an opportunity for them to get some good fights while also becoming the talk of the world again.

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