It happened again — Sonic's last remaining "egg" couldn't escape either.
"Awooooo—!!!"
A shrill, inhuman shriek burst from Sonic's throat, loud enough to pierce the clouds. The sound shook the air throughout the empty high-speed rail station. Even the staff napping in the distant duty room jolted awake.
Sonic was curled up on the floor, face pale, cold sweat pouring down his temples. Trembling, he pointed at Kaito, his voice filled with terror and disbelief.
"You… how could you…"
He wanted to ask how Kaito could see his true form.
"Kenbunshoku Haki. It can foresee the future."
Kaito crouched down, lightly patted Sonic's face, and said calmly,
"You already lost once to Saitama because you jumped too early before attacking. How can you still not learn your lesson?"
Sonic's eyes rolled back. Foam spilled from his mouth, and he collapsed, unconscious.
Kaito sighed, pulled out his S-Class Hero communicator, snapped a close-up photo of the pitiful ninja, and added a note:
"A freshly baked cutie.
A-Class fugitive Sonic.
M City high-speed rail station.
Come pick him up quickly."
The message was sent to Prisoner Sexy.
Meanwhile, in J City — Stinky Cover Prison
On an iron bed in a single cell on the second floor, a burly man lay with one leg bent. His messy hair, stubbled face, and rugged features gave him a wild charm. His entire body rippled with solid muscle.
He was none other than the Hero Association's S-Class Hero, Rank 16 — Prisoner Sexy.
A man of... passionate tastes, whose greatest joy in life was violating handsome men.
Fearing he might harm innocent men, he voluntarily confined himself to prison. By day, he guarded heinous criminals. By night, he scouted TV broadcasts for handsome fugitives, broke out of prison, captured them, and brought them back for unspeakable activities.
Almost every criminal he returned with ended up drained to the bone — or driven insane.
"Oh, what a delicate, handsome man… seems it's time to break out again!"
Feeling his communicator buzz, Prisoner Sexy pulled it out from a very questionable place. The moment he saw Sonic's photo, his eyes sparkled with delight.
BOOM!
Half a second later, the one-meter-thick steel wall exploded outward. For the second time that day, Prisoner Sexy escaped from Stinky Cover Prison.
Back in M City
The message had been sent successfully.
Kaito pocketed his communicator and didn't spare another glance at the "human tragedy" sprawled across the floor. He straightened his trench coat, adjusted the collar, and strode toward the exit.
As he passed Sonic's unconscious body, he paused briefly, drew a small cross over his chest, and muttered softly:
"Amen. May there be no fists in heaven…
and your butt—fend for itself."
When Kaito returned to his apartment, the lights inside were already on — but the place was unusually quiet.
He frowned slightly, changed his shoes, and pushed open the heavy door. The familiar cheerful voice — "Boss, you're back!" — didn't greet him this time.
The air felt strange: solemn, heavy, and tinged with the scent of ink… and despair.
Kaito raised an eyebrow and walked toward the living room.
The moment he stepped inside, a striking scene unfolded before him.
Fubuki lounged elegantly on the large leather sofa, her posture regal — a queen surveying her domain.
Tonight, she had abandoned her signature black dress. Instead, she wore a deep crimson gown with a plunging neckline that revealed a breathtakingly fair curve. A high slit teased the smooth length of a pale, slender leg.
A fluffy white mink stole draped casually over her shoulders, the contrast making her skin appear even more flawless — her aura, more commanding than ever.
One hand rested lazily on her forehead; the other tapped the armrest with perfect rhythm. Her cold, emerald eyes were locked onto the coffee table before her.
The sight there was… tragic.
Mosquito Girl — normally dressed in her cute maid outfit — now wore the crisp black uniform of the Fubuki Group.
The tailored suit hugged her curves, emphasizing every dangerous line. Black stockings wrapped her long legs, peeking out beneath a body-hugging skirt. But right now, she was kneeling tearfully before the coffee table, pink hair disheveled, hands trembling as she clutched a pencil.
The test paper in front of her was covered in red X's.
"You got this one wrong again!" the girl standing beside the table snapped, slamming her hand down.
"I told you — Hero Code Article 3! We just memorized it yesterday!"
Her tone was sharp, her energy fierce. Her high ponytail swayed as she moved, the streaks of sky-blue highlights catching the light. A delicate white lily hair ornament danced gently with her motion.
This was Lily, the Nunchaku of the Fubuki Group — and Fubuki's most devoted fan.
Upon hearing her stern words, Mosquito Girl's shoulders trembled. A single teardrop welled up in her eyes before falling with a soft plop onto the test paper, blurring the ink.
"Wuwu… Lily-chan… I really can't remember… those codes… they're so scary…"
Her whimper was like a frightened little animal's cry — fragile and pitiful.
The scene before Kaito was almost too much to handle: the strict tutor scolding her failing student, all under the queen's cold gaze of authority. He nearly burst out laughing on the spot.
He cleared his throat.
"Ahem… I'm back. Is this… some kind of academic seminar?"
The moment his voice echoed through the room, three pairs of eyes immediately turned toward him.
For Mosquito Girl, it was as if she had just spotted an oasis in an endless desert. Her tear-filled eyes suddenly shone with desperate hope.
"Boss—!!!"
In the next second, she was already on the move — practically scrambling across the carpet on all fours, abandoning all semblance of dignity as she launched herself at Kaito.
A gust of fragrant wind followed her, and before Kaito could react, something soft, warm, and impossibly springy wrapped tightly around his leg.
"Boss! Save me! Wuwuwu… exams are too hard! Too hard!!"
Mosquito Girl buried her tear-streaked face into Kaito's pants, wailing like her world was ending.
"Those questions… they all know me, but I don't know them! Wuwuwu… Sister Fubuki says I have to pass, but this is impossible! It's a hundred times harder than fighting an S-Class hero! Wuwuwu…"
As Mosquito Girl poured out her sorrows in a rapid-fire storm of complaints, Kaito finally pieced the situation together.
After he joined the Fubuki Group, it seemed Fubuki had decided to recruit Mosquito Girl as well.
It made sense — adding a Demon-level combatant would be a huge boost to the team's strength.
When not transformed or fighting, Mosquito Girl's appearance was indistinguishable from that of a young, beautiful woman — perfectly fitting the image of a professional hero, just like Sweet Mask.
Unfortunately, while she aced the practical portion of the Hero Association exam — smashing through it with overwhelming power — her written test results told a different story.
A complete massacre.
Zero points.
After all, you couldn't expect too much academic knowledge from a monster that literally evolved from a mosquito.
And thus… tonight's "tutoring session" was born.
Fubuki shifted slightly on the sofa, the motion elegant yet deliberate. The white mink stole slipped from her shoulders, revealing smooth, pale skin and delicate collarbones that caught the warm light.
"Oh? Darling, you're back." Her voice was languid, her tone dripping with playful control. "I'm just helping you tutor this useless little maid~"
At that, Mosquito Girl instantly puffed up, wings twitching in protest.
"Who— who's useless?!"
But the moment Fubuki's cool, queenly gaze fell upon her, the defiant energy vanished. Mosquito Girl shrank back behind Kaito's leg, trembling like a scolded kitten.
Kaito looked down at the pitiful girl clinging to him, then glanced at Fubuki — sitting there like a noble wife disciplining a disobedient concubine.
He couldn't help but laugh softly.