Evil Organization’s Extra Mr. A – Chapter 67

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Xrecker
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Half hoping, half doubting that Yellow would be at the arcade again so early in the morning, I arrived there early Monday, having prepared myself. Stepping off the packed subway during rush hour, I was hit by a wave of heat.

It was supposed to be getting cooler, but the late monsoon season had brought a late heatwave, making the weather feel more like late August than early September. I was worried about the upcoming training exercises; it would be unbearable if this heat continued.

While I was assigned to supervision this time, not training, it would still take place outdoors, under the scorching sun.

I arrived at the arcade, the cacophony of game sounds familiar, but it was deserted on Monday morning. Utterly deserted.

Even Yellow wasn’t there, and I sighed, disappointed at having wasted my time. I’d known the chances of encountering her were slim, but the oppressive heat outside made me reconsider leaving and I found a seat.

I sat down at the fighting game console where I’d been soundly defeated by Yellow last week and, to kill time, inserted some coins. With no one else around, the only sounds were from the game, and I played in relative peace.

Yu-ra and Ha-yeong’s assessments of Yellow differed slightly.

Yu-ra, having clashed with Yellow, had a negative impression of her, while Ha-yeong, who hadn’t had any direct conflicts, seemed to have interpreted Yellow’s behavior differently.

I didn’t think Ha-yeong’s interpretation was based solely on speculation. She’d probably seen Yellow as someone who struggled to express her emotions properly, resorting to harsh words.

It was a perspective worth considering. Yellow’s personality could be the reason for her harshness. But even if it were true, it wouldn’t change my negative impression of her. Not that my opinion mattered.

There were many people who struggled with expressing their emotions. Even my direct superior, Ruche, often expressed herself forcefully, her words harsher than intended, but no one had ever criticized her or taken offense.

Her actions, despite her sometimes abrasive communication style, showed that even clumsy expressions could be accepted if accompanied by genuine care.

Ruche, through her actions, had shown that even with her shortcomings, she cared about others.

But Yellow was different. Very different.

While they shared the common trait of struggling with emotional expression, their behavior and the perception of those around them were vastly different. Yellow used hurtful words without hesitation, her harsh expressions often causing offense.

I could understand, to some extent, attributing it to her personality.

But it was still difficult to accept. Even if you understood someone’s struggles with communication, there was no obligation to tolerate their harsh words.

Yellow’s behavior towards Green wasn’t something that could be excused simply by saying she was bad at expressing herself. Of course, it varied by individual.

If she had friends, people she interacted with regularly, they might be more understanding. But I doubted she had any close friends, given her personality.

“Oh?”

Lost in thought, I’d been mindlessly manipulating the joystick and hadn’t noticed the “You Lose” message on the screen and the countdown timer, now at 5.

“I lost.”

I inserted more coins and continued playing.

I lost again at the final boss and considered continuing but decided it wouldn’t be a proper victory, so I waited for the countdown timer to end. Just as I was about to insert more coins, I heard the sound of the joystick from across the console.

I’d been so lost in thought and engrossed in the game that I hadn’t noticed anyone approach. I cautiously glanced over to see who it was. And there she was, Yellow, her familiar dark blonde bob visible, wearing a baggy hoodie despite the heat, her eyes glued to the screen, expertly manipulating the joystick.

“She’s actually here.”

Seeing her play, knowing she’d be here for a while, I sat back down and inserted my coins. I chose my character and started the game.

Yellow and I were the only ones in the arcade, the only sounds the clicking of joysticks and buttons as we battled against AI opponents.

As I played, I could see the screen of the console across from me, where Yellow was sitting. From my position, I had a clear view of her gameplay, and I couldn’t help but be impressed by her seamless combos.

While I wasn’t a gaming expert, I knew enough to recognize skill. Just like last week, her movements were fluid and precise, suggesting years of experience.

She was good enough to compete in local tournaments.

“Oh, oh… ooh!”

I watched in awe, my own game forgotten, the countdown timer having ended after my defeat, the idle screen now displayed.

I was completely captivated by her impressive gameplay.

How much practice did it take to reach this level of skill?

Games were fascinating. While playing was fun, watching a skilled player was just as enjoyable. I found a strange satisfaction in witnessing a level of mastery I couldn’t achieve myself.

After watching her play for about 30 minutes, I remembered my purpose. I was here to gather information on Yellow of Hunter Killer.

I snapped out of my trance, stood up, and pretended to leave, observing Yellow as I walked past. She was completely focused on the game, her expression unreadable, her fingers flying across the controls, her character moving gracefully on the screen.

I wondered how to approach her, then realized watching someone play arcade games wasn’t unusual. I’d only realized this obvious fact now because I was from Spacetroe. Even last week, I’d only gotten closer after seeing a small crowd gather; before that, I’d kept my distance, worried about being noticed.

Then it hit me; there was no way she’d recognize me. I never removed my helmet during duels and had never shown my face publicly. My anxiety about being discovered had made me forget the obvious, and despite knowing she wouldn’t recognize me, I still felt a lingering sense of nervousness as I approached her from behind.

Yellow, oblivious to my presence, continued playing, or rather, she seemed too engrossed in the game to notice.

And just as she finished a stage and was about to start the next, I felt her glance at me briefly. Thankfully, we didn’t make eye contact, but that fleeting glance made my heart skip a beat.

She hadn’t recognized me or anything. She’d just glanced back, having sensed someone behind her.

Seeing her return to her game, I started thinking about how to approach her. Observing her at the arcade wasn’t a problem. However, waiting for her here, not knowing her schedule or where else she might go, would be a waste of time.

Then I noticed her hands. Her fingers, moving quickly and precisely across the joystick and buttons, her movements fluid and efficient, reminded me of her fighting style during our duel a few months ago.

“Ah!!”

I gasped involuntarily, and Yellow, startled by the sudden sound, turned around and glared at me, her eyes filled with annoyance. I flinched and quickly apologized.

Watching her play again, I couldn’t help but see her movements, the character’s actions mirroring her own fighting style with the tonfa.

I hadn’t realized I’d be able to connect her gameplay to her combat skills. My perspective shifted. I imagined the enemy characters in the game dressed in Spacetroe minion suits and realized Yellow’s fighting style was reflected in her gameplay.

‘How much…’

How much practice did it take to replicate those movements so perfectly?

‘Just how much…’

To be able to translate her gaming skills into real-world combat so flawlessly…

How much time had she spent alone, playing games?

My suspicion that Yellow had no friends became a certainty.

Honestly, none of the Hunter Killer members had many friends. Yu-bin didn’t have any, Yu-ra’s friends had abandoned her, Ha-yeong had been too busy with childcare, and Green was also isolated.

But unlike them, whose lack of social connections wasn’t by choice, Yellow seemed to have actively avoided forming close relationships, or perhaps her abrasive personality had prevented her from making friends.

After defeating the final boss, Yellow stood up and glared at me.

“You’re annoying.”

Her curt, curse-laden remark stunned me. I hadn’t expected her to be so blunt.

“Seriously…”

I sighed, not knowing what else to do. I wasn’t about to pick a fight with her. Yellow left the arcade, and I decided not to follow her; it would be too risky. And I doubted I’d learn anything by tailing her now.

If she didn’t come back to the arcade, I wouldn’t be able to observe her further today, but having seen her play, I knew she’d be back eventually.

I left the arcade to get some lunch, and afterwards, considered going home, then decided to check the arcade one last time, just in case.

And there she was, back again, playing another game.

‘How much does she love games?’

More people had come in as the afternoon progressed, some pausing to watch her play, but Yellow remained completely focused, oblivious to the onlookers. It wasn’t just concentration; she seemed utterly indifferent to her surroundings, and I felt frustrated, imagining her treating her teammates with the same indifference.

One last review. According to Yu-ra, Yellow was a bitch. According to Ha-yeong, she was clumsy with her words. And based on my own observations, she had no friends and loved video games.

I had an idea of how to approach her, someone who seemed to lack any social connection points, but I hesitated, hoping for a better option. But nothing else came to mind.

If there was no common ground, the only way to learn about someone was to approach them directly. While I had experience with intentionally approaching Hunter Killer members, I didn’t want to interact with Yellow.

But I’d decided to learn more about her, so I had to commit.

I couldn’t think of a good approach right now, so I decided to just observe her until she left.

As evening approached, the arcade became more crowded, and Yellow, after winning another match, stood up and left. I maintained a safe distance as I followed her outside.

Like last week, she took the subway, went to the market, bought groceries, and then headed home. I followed discreetly.

As she turned into an alleyway, I hurried after her, not wanting to lose her, and

“You. What are you?”

I turned the corner and ran right into Yellow.

“!”

Lost in my own thoughts, I’d forgotten about superhumans’ heightened senses.

“Uh, that is…”

“What? A stalker? You’ve been following me since the arcade. Do you even know I’m a superhuman?”

She’d declared her superhuman status not to elicit fear or disgust but as a warning. She was reminding me of her physical superiority, that she could easily overpower me.

“No, it’s not like that.”

I’d never felt this nervous encountering a Hunter Killer member. My previous encounters had been carefully planned and non-threatening, and I hadn’t anticipated any physical confrontation.

But whether it was because of my preconceived notions about her or the current situation, I was incredibly tense, my mind blank. If Yellow attacked me, it wouldn’t just be a beating; my identity might be exposed.

And even though they rarely communicated, she could still warn the other Hunter Killer members about being followed or monitored by Spacetroe.

I needed an answer, a plausible explanation for my suspicious behavior, something that would lower her guard enough for her, a superhuman, to not attack me, someone who clearly posed no physical threat.

“Teach me… how to play… games.”

It was the worst possible answer. It was so ridiculous it would top my list of most embarrassing moments. Why had I said that? Because I’d been watching her play games all day?

Yellow’s glare softened, replaced by a look of disbelief.

“I’ve been coming to arcades for years, but this is a first.”

She had every right to be incredulous. I was baffled by my own stupidity.

Her initial suspicion and annoyance seemed to be overshadowed by disbelief at my ridiculous request, and she hadn’t even gotten angry.

“You don’t even look like you’ve played games before.”

Just like I’d been able to see her gameplay from across the arcade, she could see mine. I hadn’t thought she’d notice.

Even if she had, it would have been a fleeting glance, followed by a sigh at my pathetic display of skill.

Yellow, still looking incredulous, sighed and glared at me.

“Seriously, what a weirdo. Figure out the games yourself, and if you follow me again, I’ll kill you.”

Her words, a clear threat, made me break out in a cold sweat, and she glared at me one last time before turning and walking away.

While my answer had been ridiculous, it had gotten me out of the situation. But the danger wasn’t over. She now saw me as suspicious, which would make future observations at the arcade difficult. I might even have to give up on close-range observation.

…I’d think about it when I got home.

Yellow took the elevator to her penthouse apartment, feeling the familiar emptiness of her home, placed the groceries on the living room table, and turned on her game console.

“Teach me… how to play… games.”

The first time she’d been followed, it had been so absurd she couldn’t even laugh.

“What a creep.”

She dismissed the thought of the strange man and started playing.

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