Cage

Frenchie pushed hard against the bars, feeling their texture beneath his fingers.

He had no idea what they were made of, but they felt sturdy.

Still, he could move them.

As he pushed, Frenchie kept his eyes on the girl's face.

Her grimy face was strangely blank. A sudden unease rose in him.

He had been so blinded by lust that all he had thought about was opening the gate.

Only now did he remember where he was: a basement that held clues about Compound V, with a woman locked behind sturdy bars.

Perhaps she was not as helpless as she looked.

The thought jolted Frenchie. He stopped pushing and pulled the gate shut again.

As he pulled, he accidentally made a noise.

It was faint, but in the silent room, it rang out clearly.

Ryan turned toward Frenchie. The man who had made the noise stood frozen in place.

It seemed the sound had frightened him too.

The three men who had been playing cards were startled as well. They threw their cards onto the table and rushed out of the back room.

The first thing they saw was Frenchie pulling on the barred gate.

"Don't."

Their voices were full of fear.

Before Frenchie could work out what they meant, his hands stopped obeying him.

He looked down and saw the girl who had seemed so pitiful behind the bars. She now gripped them with both hands.

Her grip was immensely strong. Even pulling back with both hands, Frenchie could not stop her from wrenching the gate open.

The gate opened, and the girl stepped out.

As Frenchie watched her flex her fingers, he understood his mistake.

The figure behind those bars had not been a helpless little rabbit waiting to be rescued. She was more like a wounded beast licking its wounds.

Her eyes were full of ferocity, as if she would attack anyone who came near.

Standing directly before her, Frenchie felt it most keenly. It was like facing a lion or tiger unarmed.

His legs nearly gave out from fear.

Before the girl could attack him, he darted through the gate and shut himself inside.

Through the bars, he watched her walk farther out.

Ryan turned in the basement and saw an unfamiliar girl.

Behind her stood Frenchie, who had locked himself in. Frenchie waved at Ryan.

He was shouting for Ryan to come over and take shelter.

Ryan had no idea what about the girl had frightened him so badly.

Then the girl, dressed in thin clothes, crouched and sprang at Ryan like a leopard.

Her wild charge did her no good. Ryan took a small step back, and she missed.

Ahead of her were Hughie and the three men who had been playing cards.

Hughie was bewildered. He had only come to look for information about Compound V.

Yet he kept running into people he had never expected to meet, and the girl who had suddenly appeared was clearly dangerous.

He wisely stepped aside, leaving the three men standing at the back exposed.

They had nowhere to retreat. A wall stood behind them.

No one had cleaned the black wall, and it looked filthy. The men drew their guns and fired at the girl.

Gunfire rang out for a moment, then fell silent.

Ryan looked at the black wall. On the floor lay human remains like a mosaic. The girl had been brutal.

In just a few minutes, the unarmed girl had killed the armed men.

It was rare. Among the superpowered people Ryan had seen, all but a few dreaded firearms.

Guns were powerful and had range. Beyond seven paces, a gun was faster; within seven, it was faster and more accurate.

The basement was cramped, with almost nowhere to dodge. Ryan was curious how the girl had avoided being riddled with bullets by the three men.

He walked over and found one survivor. The girl was about to strike, but Ryan caught her hand and held it fast.

After all, A-Train had identified this place as a transit point for Compound V. Everything had happened too quickly for Ryan to stop it.

Now he could at least save one person.

That was what Ryan thought as he tried to reassure the survivor.

"It's all right now—"

Before he could finish, another gunshot cracked through the quiet basement.

It echoed, drowning out the sound of a body hitting the floor.

The survivor seemed unable to bear the gruesome sight of his companions' deaths and had chosen to end his own life.

He fell silent for good. The girl, however, began to struggle.

Unfortunately for her, Ryan held her hand. She could only move her legs.

Her leg could reach a little farther than her fist. She kicked at Ryan's weak spot.

She was fast, but Ryan was faster. Rather than dodge, he met her kick with one of his own.

Their legs collided in midair.

Crack.

Bone snapped in the girl's leg. She clutched it and crouched, crying out in pain.

If not for the two people she had killed on the floor, it might have looked as though Ryan were bullying her.

In any case, Ryan had subdued her. Faced with someone stronger, she settled down considerably.

Hughie, who had been watching from the side, noticed and hurried over.

"Who is she?"

"I don't know."

Ryan shook his head. This was the first time he had seen the girl in this life.

Curious about her identity, Hughie asked her directly, but she only made gestures in the air.

Her gestures left Hughie even more confused. He glanced beside her, where unidentified little insects were already buzzing over the two mangled bodies.

"What do we do with these people?"

"Leave them where they are."

Ryan sighed. The girl had killed with practiced skill. She had probably done this sort of thing plenty of times before.

When Frenchie saw that things had calmed down outside the bars, he came out. He heard Ryan's words as he emerged.

He walked over to Ryan and got down to business.

"So where are the clues about Compound V?"

What Frenchie really wanted was to find a vial or two of Compound V, not just clues.

He searched the basement and actually found an empty test tube with a little blue liquid left inside.

It looked remarkably like Compound V.

While Frenchie searched, Ryan kept watch over the girl. She kept glancing at the exit.

Her intentions were obvious.

Unable to beat Ryan, she wanted to run.

But Ryan stayed in her path, making escape difficult.

Ryan was watching the girl too, though not because of her looks.

Aside from Frenchie, few people would have taken an interest in the disheveled, grimy girl.

What interested Ryan was her leg.

The leg that had been broken earlier could already move freely, as though it had never been injured.

The sight gave Ryan an idea. In a world where superpowers existed, the girl's unusual recovery

was probably a power too.

Self-healing.

Regeneration, in other words. Just as Ryan reached that conclusion, the girl let one side of her clothing slip down, revealing something that held his gaze.