Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 105: Danger In The Slums

Chapter 105: Danger In The Slums

When Alon got the message, he felt a strong urge to storm out and start searching for people himself. But he couldn’t. He needed to stay close to Lyra, just in case she tried something reckless.

"Boost the manpower, deploy drones for surveillance, and don’t let her stir up any trouble over there!" he commanded, his tone sharp.

Meanwhile, Lyra sat there, casually holding a glass of water, her fingers tracing the rim with an eerie calm.

Everything about Vivian screamed spoiled rich girl—someone who thought the whole world should bend to her will.

The slums were teeming with ordinary folks. The main problems there were poverty and crumbling infrastructure.

Sure, there was plenty of shady business, but most of it was small-time crime. Still, that didn’t mean there weren’t dangerous people lurking around.

A level-four Peculiar and a level-three Peculiar could walk through the slums without much worry—if they kept their heads down.

But Vivian wasn’t exactly known for being subtle.

She attracted trouble like a magnet, and when it came, she handled it with ruthless efficiency.

The slums were always crowded, lacking the surveillance that blanketed the city, so Vivian didn’t bother hiding her powers.

As she made her way through the narrow, shadowy streets, stepping on grime-covered pavement, her frustration grew. "How can a place be so backward and filthy? It’s even worse than your neighborhood!" she grumbled.

Mandy followed closely, always on edge, trying to convince Vivian to turn back. But Vivian ignored her completely.

Before long, they were cornered in a tight alley.

"It’s them," muttered a bruised man, pointing a shaky finger at them. "Good catches, but tough to handle."

In the slums, many women, driven by poverty or force, ended up in the red-light district. Some of the more attractive ones got sent to work in the nicer parts of the city, where the pay was better.

This grim reality drew in all kinds of predators—organizations and individuals looking to exploit these women.

Some factory owners even refused to hire women, pushing them toward this harsh life.

And then there were the criminals, like the gang now blocking Vivian and Mandy’s way, who kidnapped women who strayed into the slums.

The area was too wild, too chaotic to be controlled.

The gang leader, a burly man with a scruffy beard, wore a black jacket open to reveal a nasty scar across his chest and a set of muscles that made him look menacing.

He eyed Vivian up and down with a grin. "Definitely a good catch."

He gave her a nod, saying, "You’re a level-four at your age. Why not join me? It’s better than serving men in whore houses."

Vivian’s eyes blazed with anger as she spat on the ground. "Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?"

The man just chuckled, calling her "little wild pussy," then he looked over at Mandy with a smirk. "This one’s more plain. Aleen, teach her how to serve clients."

Vivian’s fury boiled over. She lashed out with a whip made of water, but the man shattered it with one powerful punch.

It was then she noticed his fists were covered in heavy metal gauntlets. He cracked his knuckles and charged at her, landing a punch that sent her flying.

The surge of energy from his attack was unmistakable—this guy was way stronger than them, and his combat skills were far beyond anyone they’d faced before.

Vivian’s face twisted with frustration as she gritted her teeth. "What are you standing there for? Attack with me!" she yelled at Mandy.

Mandy forced herself to stay composed, summoning razor-sharp wind blades that sliced through the air, aiming for the man.

But as they struck his stone armor, they only made a dull, clinking sound, leaving him unharmed.

Vivian charged at him, but after a brief exchange, he grabbed her arm and twisted it until it snapped.

Vivian collapsed against the wall, a scream of agony escaping her lips.

Amid the chaos, a small metal box slipped from Vivian’s grasp, unnoticed as it hit the ground.

Just then, the buzzing of a drone echoed above the alley.

Vivian’s eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. "I’m here!" she shouted desperately.

The man didn’t miss a beat. He tore a chunk of stone from the wall and hurled it at the drone, smashing it to pieces. He turned back to Vivian, her face drained of color, and sneered. "You really think you can escape me?"

Mandy leaned in close to Vivian, whispering urgently, "I’ll count to three, and we’ll run together."

Vivian gave a quick nod.

"One, two, three—"

Mandy suddenly sent a nearby trash can flying into the air, scattering garbage everywhere and creating the perfect distraction.

"Let’s go!" she urged.

But just as she reached out to pull Vivian along, she felt a sharp shove. Vivian pushed her hard into the trash, then bolted.

The gang leader and his men took off after Vivian, leaving behind a level-four Peculiar and a few thugs to handle Mandy.

"Damn it, that little b*tch!" The driver, a fat, middle-aged man, slapped Mandy hard across the face twice, his breath reeking of anger.

Mandy snapped back to reality, a flash of wild desperation in her eyes that made the man hesitate. But his hesitation didn’t last long—he grabbed her by the hair and spat in her face.

"Glare at me like that again?"

Mandy finally felt the icy grip of fear, her body trembling uncontrollably.

One of the thugs whistled, "Hey, dude, this one might not be as pretty as the other, but she’s fresh. Since she’s gonna be working anyway, why not let the boys have a taste?"

Laughter echoed through the alley.

In the dim light, the level-four thug grabbed Mandy’s arm and pinned her to the wall.

She screamed, thrashing wildly, but more men held her down as a brutal punch to her stomach left her gasping for air, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth.

Then she went still.

"That’s more like it," the fat man grunted, yanking open the zipper of her hoodie. He snorted with piggish delight as he pressed against her.

Mandy bit down hard on her lip, her eyes flickering to the gun at his waist.

Then she noticed the metal box, forgotten in the corner.

"W-wait... I have a high-grade plant!" The words spilled out as Mandy remembered Vivian’s panicked shout about it earlier.

The man, who had been about to pull down his pants, froze. He tightened his grip on her hair, eyes narrowing. "You think you can play games with me?"

The cold air bit at Mandy’s exposed skin, making her shiver uncontrollably. Tears welled up in her eyes as she pleaded, "It’s in that box... Please, let me go."

The temptation of high-grade plants was too strong to resist. The man barked at his lackeys to hold her while he cautiously retrieved the box.

When he opened it, a surge of pure energy flooded the air.

Everyone froze, eyes wide with disbelief.

"It’s real!" one of the men exclaimed.

They crowded around, caught up in the excitement, but their celebration was cut short by a sudden gust of wind.

Wind blades slashed through the alley, sending thugs crashing into the walls.

The fat man lunged at Mandy, but two sharp gunshots rang out, and his head exploded in a spray of blood.

Mandy stood there, trembling, holding the gun with tears streaming down her face.

Using her powers, she struck down the remaining men. It wasn’t until the blood pooled around her feet that she snapped back to reality.

She hurriedly dressed, grabbed another handgun, and packed the level-nine plant into her bag.

Cautiously, she tracked down Vivian. The sounds of her screams and the man’s lewd laughter echoed from inside a nearby building.

As Mandy stood there, the memory of what she’d just endured flared up in her mind, filling her with a deep, burning hatred.

Without another glance, she turned and ran away.

...

The ringing of her opticomputer snapped Lyra back to reality. It was Morrison.

"What’s going on?" she asked, her tone sharp.

"Boss, aren’t you done yet? There’s a situation at the factory..." Morrison’s voice crackled through the device.

Lyra quickly slipped on her headset, listening intently as he filled her in. Without hesitating, she made a decision. "Alright, you handle it for now. I’ll be back this afternoon."

After ending the call, she couldn’t help but glance over at Alon. "How much longer do I have to wait?"

"We’re still checking," Alon replied, frustration seeping into his voice. He was even more anxious than she was. ’What on earth was that reckless young woman thinking?!’

Meanwhile, in the slums, the sky was a constant murky mix of gray and yellow, the air thick with smog from the nearby factories.

"Ahh—I’ll kill you... No, let me go..."

Vivian’s screams echoed through the dirty streets, growing fainter with each passing second.

Mandy, trembling and huddled beside a trash can, finally mustered the courage to make a call.

"Hello, Mr. Mendez?"

In the end, she knew she had no other choice but to reach out to him.