The Villain's Obsession

BUGH

The girl grimaced as she wiped the sticky red fluid from the corner of her lips. Her sharp eyes surveyed dozens of people lying unfortunate on the asphalt, along with one who had just received a raw beating from her.

Slowly, her long legs walked toward the concrete barrier at the roadside. Her limping gait, a result of being struck by a large piece of wood, annoyed her.

"Damn it," she muttered, closing her eyes briefly before landing on the concrete. Her hazel eyes then shifted to the clear sky. The sun's rays struck her face, and sweat dripped from the girl's temples.

Her jaw tightened as the sweat hit a small cut on her cheek. She was certain that part must be turning purplish now. The bruise caused by a stout person earlier had left her face in this state.

The girl straightened her legs, closed her eyes to endure the pain in her left leg. She pulled up the jeans she was wearing, revealing a bruise on her shin.

"Damn," she whispered, roughly tugging at her hair. It seemed like her life might be in serious danger in a few moments.

With an anxious face, she looked up as if searching for something. Her attention then focused on one point.

Her hand clenched, accompanied by a frustrated sigh escaping her mouth.

"Damn, ambushed?" she mused, instantly changing her expression to a flat one. Then, she turned to look at each person lying helpless not far from her.

"If I knew this, I would have killed the damn guy earlier."

"Are you sure you want to kill them?" Another voice retorted, and the girl turned to the source of the sound.

The girl sighed, intending to unleash a string of curses, but her voice was choked in her throat. It ended with just closing her eyes, fists clenched.

"Deska, Deska, you're really a hassle," the voice of the known male said.

Deska then glared irritably at the man behind her.

"Late, Jo. You're late. It's all your fault, such a bother," Deska ended with a frustrated hiss.

The escalating tension prompted Deska to take off her denim jacket, leaving only a short-sleeved black shirt.

"You're strong, huh? Beating up twenty people like that," the man commented, diverting his attention to the pitiful humans lying on the asphalt.

"Annoying, they ruined my skateboard," Deska said, gazing sadly at the rectangular wheeled object now split in two. "I should have killed them."

"Not gonna happen," the man replied quickly, redirecting his attention to Deska. "You'll be a wanted person and risk not being considered your parents' child."

"Oh, really?" Deska retorted dismissively.

The girl stood up, hanging her jacket over her shoulder. She faced the man named Jonathan Samuel Rilichof in front of her.

"Jo, Jo, they're too reckless if they did that. And too cheesy," Deska said, ending with a cynical smile.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, still observing the girl in front of him.

While Deska took a crouching position, lowering her jeans on the left side and fixing the slightly messy shoe lace.

"Ah, remember my principle?" Deska asked without diverting her attention from the knot in her hands.

Jonathan seemed unmoved. He then turned his gaze to the dozens of people lying unfortunate in front of him.

"Swipe a bit, hit them hard."

Deska rose with a curved smile on her lips. She patted Jonathan's shoulder proudly.

"Not wrong to be friends with you."

Jonathan brushed off Deska's hand emotionlessly.

"Lame," he muttered.

Deska crossed her arms. The girl stared intently at Jonathan.

"Jo, Jo, this is all your fault," she asserted.

Jonathan's face looked weary; he hated every time he encountered this situation.

"Because you were late, they wrecked my skateboard, Jo," Deska continued. Jonathan knew exactly what the girl meant.

"So before I kill someone, you better-"

"Yeah, I'll replace it later," he said lazily.

Deska instantly changed her facial expression. She smiled broadly, seeing Jonathan's very insincere expression. According to her, moments like these made her mood better.

"Okay, then take me home," Deska concluded, walking past Jonathan. He looked puzzled, glancing briefly at the watch on his wrist.

"Home? You want to get beaten?"

Deska's steps came to a halt. She turned to look at Jonathan with an unfriendly expression.

"Yeah, what's it to you? You want me to go back to that boring school? No way!"

Jonathan shook his head slightly, observing Deska's bad habit. Skipping classes. He couldn't count how many times this semester she had left school without permission. Deska's behavior was truly troublesome. Just two days ago, she had gotten into a brawl with a senior, and Jonathan felt the winds of impending doom about to strike Deska.

"You're asking for trouble, Des," mumbled Jonathan, who didn't want to talk much.

"What are you waiting for? Come on, I want to go home and relax," she snapped impatiently.

Jonathan nodded and followed the girl from behind. He glanced at Deska's left leg; she could walk normally now.

"How many lives do you actually have?" Jonathan wondered.

This girl was a bit different, her erratic behavior making everyone shake their heads at her antics.

"You're crazy. School isn't that far from here, and you're so slow to come," Deska complained when they reached the area where Jonathan's motorcycle was parked.

He grabbed a helmet and placed it on Deska's head. He remained silent despite the protests she directed at him.

"Hey, can't you hear me? Don't try to talk to a wall," she grumbled.

Jonathan sighed. His ears were getting hotter, listening to her rant.

"Do you think I'm like you? Leaving school without permission? No way!" Jonathan retorted. He then got on the motorcycle, ignoring Deska, who continued to curse him.

Women are always right.

"Are you getting on or not? I'll leave you here," Jonathan said, feeling that his life was becoming more complicated with her around.

With a reluctant attitude, she finally got on the motorcycle. Despite that, Deska really wanted to throw a raw punch at Jonathan's face, adding to her growing frustration.

"Lucky I'm not in the mood for punching people; otherwise, I would make sure you go home with a bruised face, Jo," mumbled Deska.

"Shut up."

Jonathan's motorcycle slowly started to move, leaving the area where the girl had skipped school.

"Thanks, Jo. I'll buy you a martabak sometime," Deska said as she got off Jonathan's motorcycle, handing him back the helmet.

"No need," he replied, grabbing the helmet from Deska's hand.

"Wow, so arrogant. This is the first time I've met someone who rejects free stuff," Deska scoffed.

"Whatever," Jonathan said with an indifferent face. Deska knew very well that he was fed up with her.

"I'm going back," she continued while starting the motorcycle's engine.

Deska crossed her arms, feeling a sudden suspicion about Jonathan.

"Where to?"

Jonathan turned, and for a moment, the two were in silence with the sound of the motorcycle engine accompanying them.

"To headquarters."

Deska sighed; her suspicion was correct.

"It's been a month, Des. You haven't been to the headquarters. The guys have been looking for you," Jonathan explained.

Deska just maintained a poker face, staring intently at Jonathan's face covered by the helmet.

"Two days ago, our headquarters was attacked by infiltrators. Emilo, Ernest, Kay, they had to be taken to the hospital because their heads were hit by blunt objects."

Quietly, Deska's fist clenched behind her. She channeled the sudden surge of emotion.

"Too many things have happened. We even got caught off guard by a new enemy. ELMINO, our big enemy."

To be continued...