10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 118 - Three Heroines

The final masked soldier, coughing up thick, dark blood, desperately tried to crawl forward, his trembling hand stretched out. But the metal floor was far too slick. He slipped, falling face-first into the massive, growing pool of red already pooling beneath the seats.

Cruxius calmly lowered his smoking gun, the heat radiating from the barrel.

[Use of Dimensional Morph Detected (B+): Reset time is 24 hours]

[Use of Kino Control detected (B): Reset time is 24 hours]

The floating portals snapped shut simultaneously, like hundreds of eyelids closing in the dark.

Cruxius observed the glowing system screen popping up in his vision, cleanly informing him that his overpowered ability would now be entirely frozen for 24 hours. He was much calmer now, even though he knew that he still needed to violently deal with the superheroes who would undoubtedly arrive here soon. Heroes who definitely would not be as weak as these bleeding men.

The high wind rustled violently above the rushing train, cutting against the massive speed of its motion like a sharp blade slipping across stretched nerves.

Afternoon sunlight washed the smooth surface of the train in gold, the steel body humming intensely beneath its own massive weight.

Above it, empty space suddenly opened—not with explosive violence, but with a terrifying, cold precision.

A sharp, perfectly flat-edged portal sliced directly into existence. Two female figures stepped out smoothly onto the dangerous roof, their striking silhouettes stark against the sunlit sky.

The first woman’s heavy boots landed with a solid thud, her notoriously short skirt fluttering wildly against her thick, muscular thighs. Her hero outfit clung to her like a second skin—tight, dark, and intentionally provocative.

Her tight crop top strained heavily across the generous, deep swell of her cleavage, fighting a losing battle against the wind. Her legs were bare, long, and exuded a deadly confidence. Her vibrant red hair curled like raw fire in the wind, her expression totally unreadable under the sheer arrogance of her youth.

Eventide.

She exhaled deeply, rolling her toned shoulder with a careless shrug. "Still in motion."

Directly behind her came another.

She didn’t leap aggressively.

She stepped—perfectly controlled, poised, and elegant. Her expensive heels clicked exactly once against the steel, and silence instantly followed. A tailored, pristine white coat billowed softly behind her, framing her sleek, mature curves. Black leather gloves covered her delicate hands. Her eyes, entirely cold and unreadable, scanned the length of the train roof.

Sugar.

Her presence carried a totally different kind of heavy weight. Not from raw, explosive strength—but from absolute, terrifying restraint. Like a massive storm that simply hadn’t been permitted to break yet.

Her voice came clean and incredibly quiet over the wind. "You really shouldn’t have attacked Cruxius."

Eventide didn’t even look back at her. She just smirked, popping her hip. "Don’t start this lecturing bullshit again."

Sugar remained perfectly still.

The exact moment she had heard that Eventide had brutally attacked Cruxius, a slight, deeply possessive anger had begun to form in the back of her mind. She had barely managed to control it, given that she had firmly decided to sever all her past ties and not think of that arrogant man in this new life she had been given. Still, the mere thought of another woman touching him—even to hurt him—made her deeply irritated.

"Really," Eventide went on lazily, brushing the wind-tangled strands of red hair from her face, exposing her neck, "It totally doesn’t matter. The bastard is alive."

That was when Sugar finally moved.

Not her body. Just her eyes.

A sudden flash—sharp, incredibly precise, nearly imperceptible.

A breath of pure, concentrated killing intent. Not flared wildly... but focused to a pinpoint. Like a razor-sharp blade placed gently against the soft skin of a throat, but never pressed down.

The rushing wind actually seemed to bend around her aura.

Eventide paused mid-step, the confident smirk slipping as she blinked.

The heavy moment passed as quickly as it came.

’No, I shouldn’t care about him... he betrayed me,’ Sugar consoled herself internally. Her rational mind calmed down as she forced herself to feel there was absolutely no reason for her to act repulsively jealous regarding Cruxius Blac. She firmly turned her head away.

She lifted her black-gloved hand, and with a simple, elegant flex of her fingers, a tall, glowing rectangle of light carved itself seamlessly into the air—a portal so perfectly clean it looked like a pane of glass resting on nothingness.

"Let’s go," she said. Her smooth voice was entirely cold now. "We have a massive mess to clean up. One you made."

Eventide clicked her tongue, saying nothing else. She stepped through the glowing portal first.

Sugar followed silently.

It was exactly like passing through a quiet door as they seamlessly entered within the dim train car directly below where they had been standing a moment ago.

A soft displacement of conditioned air, then the sudden, heavy press of sound—groaning metal walls, the deep, vibrating rumble of the fast tracks beneath their feet. The cabin was deeply dim, lit only by half-dead ceiling lights that flickered overhead like failing stars.

Torn leather seats lined both sides of the aisle.

And there, standing perfectly at the far end—two figures.

They stood completely still beneath the flickering light, as if they had been painted there. No reaction. No sudden motion. As if they had been patiently waiting for prey.

Heavy black cloaks wrapped their bodies, long and thick, rippling slightly with the train’s aggressive motion. The taller one immediately drew the eye. Her silhouette was absolutely impossible to miss.

She possessed a thick, incredibly powerful body perfectly outlined by her tight stance—the heavy weight of her full, plush curves glaringly obvious even beneath the thick, dark fabric. Her wide hips flared out generously, her long legs planted far apart in a silent, dominant challenge. Her large chest rose and fell slowly beneath the dark hood, looking exactly like a physical threat wrapped in soft, heavy flesh.

The other figure was noticeably smaller. Taut. Slim. Built more like a razor blade than a woman. Her gloved fingers rested lightly against the hilts of two short swords, one strapped at each slender hip, totally unmoving.

They didn’t speak. Didn’t even twitch.

Sugar’s heels clicked forward exactly once on the steel floor. She raised her elegant chin, her voice cool and authoritative.

"You are not officially registered for any presence on this transit line. State your identity immediately."

Silence.

No gesture. No subtle shift in weight.

Just... cold, deeply dangerous stillness.

Eventide narrowed her eyes, her posture aggressive. Her voice was looser, rougher. "Just some stray villains?"

Sugar’s tone remained clipped. "There’s no visible insignia. No insignia usually means high-tier freelance or heavily blacklisted."

Still, the cloaked figures didn’t answer.

Not even a twitch of the eye beneath their hoods.

The two were a distinct, dangerous feature. Sugar’s sharp eyes could clearly see that the taller one had striking purple eyes glowing from the shadows—not entirely common, but not totally unique either.

The lights above stuttered and popped.

And Eventide exhaled loudly as though she was completely done with guessing games.

"Forget it," she said, cracking her knuckles. "They’re probably just some backwater lunatics from Zone 7 looking to die."

She didn’t even bother to finish the sentence.

Her voluptuous body violently blurred—the atoms shimmering and tearing as she suddenly dissolved into a ghost-like, untouchable blur of particles, vanishing forward with a loud hiss.

That was exactly when the fight began.

The taller one—Ytrisia—moved.

Fast.

No preamble. No warning shout.

A thick, booted foot slammed brutally into the steel floor—and the solid metal instantly bent. Groaned. Warped heavily under the sheer, terrifying weight of her momentum. She shot forward like a runaway truck, not a person, the dark cloak peeling back behind her to briefly reveal the dangerously tight fit of her suit as her heavy body crashed directly into Eventide’s path.

Eventide’s form materialized just in time—her eyes widening in genuine shock as a solid, muscular arm arced toward her head like a steel battering ram.

She desperately ducked.

The heavy air literally cracked as the taller woman’s thick fist passed overhead and utterly obliterated a reinforced leather seat directly behind her—the metal frame scattering like shredded foil.

"What the—!?" Eventide cursed loudly, her chest heaving as she flipped rapidly backward, atoms buzzing violently along her exposed, sweating skin.

The lean one—Darithi—came next.

She didn’t run—she flowed. A sharp, incredibly low movement exactly like a striking snake, both short swords flashing out from their sheaths. Her lithe form was terrifyingly fluid, almost too graceful to track with the naked eye. She launched her slender body straight toward Sugar with absolute, cold precision.

Sugar stepped sideways—not panicked in the slightest, just perfectly calculating—and raised one gloved hand.

A clean panel of space peeled open directly behind her, folding inward like neat origami.

She slipped backwards through it.

Shkrrk—!