Harem Streamer System: Every Crime I Broadcast Wins Me a Superheroine-Chapter 204: ~Intermission~ Bodiless Hearts

— Magnolia Bakery, West District —

Outside a small cake shop nestled on the edge of the old city plaza, Deathmark was seated sideways on the railing of a sloped sidewalk with her legs crossed.

Her eyes were buried in her phone.

Her gloved fingers tapped rapidly on the keyboard.

"Come on… answer…" she muttered.

She hit [send].

The message shot out, but the tick didn't turn blue.

Not even gray. Just that ominous little circle.

She sighed hard through her nose and let her head drop back like gravity finally got bored of being ignored. Her boot tapped against the asphalt like a ticking clock — irregular, restless.

Her message history was a collection of cringe:

[heyy. u alive or what?? lol. I stepped on a lizard today during recon, didn't even mean to but it made that squelch noise and now I can't stop hearing it?? anyway lol hope ur good.]

[so funny thing happened during surveillance. I sneezed into the comms mic and everyone thought it was a signal. almost started a strike. haha oops! you ever accidentally almost start a war? lmao… miss u. lol jk unless??]

[had noodles today that tasted like regret. also we got a new lead on that smuggler we were chasing in the Ashra region. turns out his wife was the leak. classic. 😆 how's your heart btw? and your spleen? still functioning? sorry, I'm not really good at this stuff…]

[it's weird. I saw a guy who looked like you today. but uglier. not that I think about your face that often. just… enough.

when are you coming back??? not that I care. I'm thriving. totally.]

[update: the smuggler's wife wasn't the leak. I was the leak. I told a field cat named Reggie. he looked trustworthy. my bad. also I finally finished that dumb survival training you said I'd fail. guess who didn't die in the desert? this girl.]

[okay good night. unless you're awake. in which case, hi. but also good night. unless you're a vampire now?? lol. ugh. I'm gonna sleep.]

[no pressure or anything but if you're dead I'm gonna be pissed… just sayin.]

[Please reply…]

Each message felt more hollow than the last.

More desperate.

She stared up at the colorful city sky and bit the inside of her cheek.

『He's not going to reply… not to me… not anymore.』

Nightwatch was gone. Declared a terrorist during the NYC Honors Ceremony. Labeled a threat to world stability. And who was standing front and center at the very podium that declared it?

Her. Deathmark.

One of the heroes chosen to "neutralize him" if he ever resurfaced.

The memory always clawed at her—what kind of face did he have, seeing her among them?

Was he angry? Disgusted? Hurt?

She gripped her phone tighter as her voice softened.

"… I really wanna talk to him."

She had already tried every handle, every ID, every possible burner account he might've used.

All gone. Disconnected. Dead ends.

No digital traces, no login echoes.

He was good. Too good.

"And I know I'm not supposed to…"

She muttered, looking down, her voice almost too small for the world to hear.

"But I just wanna see him again…"

Her eyes dulled a little as she stared at the black screen.

For some reason, the memory floated back to her — him sending that healthcare pack.

She'd been throwing up non-stop after the fight with Holekeeper… it turned her body to a wreck and her organs twitched like wet wires.

And then… a knock at her door.

A discreet drone drop.

Healthcare pack, with that stupid hand-written note:

[A small thank you gift. My viewers said they loved you.]

It might've just been the kind of thing anyone would do for someone else, but for her, it had been a long time since she'd felt real kindness.

So something that probably seemed normal to most people felt, to her, like the warm smile of a god.

Thinking about it now, she gave a small, tight smile and held her chest.

She blinked once. Then a smile crept onto her face.

She touched her bottom lip as a little color returned to her tender cheeks.

"… He said his viewers loved me …"

She whispered, then giggled quietly.

"If he gives me another chance… I really wanna stream with him again."

WOAH, IT'S DEATHMARK!

A sudden shout scattered the thoughtful silence.

Deathmark flinched like someone had fired a gun, nearly stumbling backward off the railing as her eyes flew open.

Within seconds, a huge crowd of civilians flooded into her space. Phones were out, hands waving in the air, and voices overlapping as everyone tried to get her attention at once.

"HOLY SHIT! Yo, I can't believe I get to see a hottie hero like Deathmark today!!"

"Going outside really does pay off!" freewebnøvel.coɱ

"I NEED A PIC WITH YOU—IT'S FOR MY SON!!"

"OH FUCKING SHUT IT! IF YOU CAN'T ADMIT YOU WANT HER PICTURE FOR YOURSELF, THEN YOU'RE NOT A REAL FAN!!"

"WHAT──?!!"

The last two started shouting directly at each other, escalating into a full-blown argument that made zero sense.

People were filming the chaos.

Others were screaming for autographs.

Deathmark just stared, dumbfounded, as the crowd swelled around the front of the cake shop.

— Inside —

Rope Girl stood silently in front of the counter.

Customers were watching her from all directions, most of them sitting across from dates. The whole place felt charged with tension—just from the way everyone kept staring.

A raven-haired woman in tight gear, a body that could humble Greek sculptures.

Her stillness only made it worse.

"Babe—?!"

One girlfriend grabbed her boyfriend's jaw and turned his head back to her.

He chuckled nervously, rubbing his neck.

"Ahaha… sorry about that…"

The girl just pouted, folding her arms, while her boyfriend still kept sneaking peeks like he was afraid of blinking.

『HER ASS IS GOD-TIER!』

He screamed mentally.

Behind the counter, the young baker Hima smiled brightly as she handed over a neatly bagged cake.

"Okay! Strawberry and vanilla, just like usual."

Rope Girl didn't react. Not a twitch. Same as always.

"This really is your favorite spot, huh…"

Hima grinned with pride.

"You're not getting any younger, you know? You should think about dating again."

Rope Girl turned slightly.

"You're barely in your twenties. Maybe you should be taking that advice."

Hima puffed her cheeks and glared, flustered.

"Wha—! Rude!"

Rope Girl ignored it, slid her money across the counter.

But Hima hesitated.

"This time… it's on the house."

"…"

Rope Girl silently took back the money. Picked up the cake. And walked away.

"YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO SAY THANK YOU!!"

Hima yelled.

Rope Girl just raised one hand slightly without turning back.

Hima shook her head, laughing under her breath.

"Unbelievable…"

Back outside—

"… HUH?"

Rope Girl paused at the sight of the chaos.

A hundred fans swarming around Deathmark, shouting absurd things:

"SIGN MY BACK!"

"PLEASE, JUST ONE SELFIE!"

"SIGN MY BABY!!"

"CAN I TOUCH YOUR BOOBS, PLE—"

"What…? NO!"

Deathmark had her tongue stuck out, throwing goofy peace signs as she took selfies and scribbled autographs like it was an official meet-and-greet.

But then—

"IT'S ROPE GIRL!!!"

And suddenly the chaos doubled.

The crowd surged.

Men drooled. Women screamed in envy. Phones flew up.

Rope Girl closed her eyes.

Already tired.

Without a word, she walked into the mob, reached out, and yanked Deathmark by the ponytail.

"AHHH—WAIT, WAIT!! OWWWW!!"

The crowd gasped. Rope Girl didn't even look at them.

"COLD!"

"DID SHE JUST—?!"

"YO THAT WAS BRUTAL."

"ICONIC."

"Fucking knew it… Rope Girl's never gonna give us even a crumb of kindness."

"That's why her autograph sells for thousands. It's kinda like a marketing strategy, you know? She once refused to sign a cancer kid's action figure."

"… Damn, that's cold."

"Kinda sexy though. I get a boner whenever she treats people like trash. So hot."

"Mmm~ I wonder what her armpit smells like…"

Everyone slowly turned to look at him.

Far from the crowd now, Rope Girl finally let go.

"OWWW! My scalp!"

Deathmark vigorously rubbed her head like she'd been hit with a frying pan.

Rope Girl turned, holding the package under one arm.

"Focus. We're here to drop off the Chairman's package."

Deathmark sulked. "Yeah, yeah…"

Rope Girl exhaled.

"Should've just come with Witch. She's terrifying. Her fans don't even approach her. They just beat their meat to erotic angles of her fight footage."

She started walking.

Deathmark blinked.

"… Wait, they do that?"

"Unfortunately."

— Hero Tower —

An impossibly tall, mirrored monolith that pierced the clouds and looked down on the world like a divine sentinel. The heart of the Hero Agency. Registrations, rankings, operations, cover-ups — all of it happened here, behind tinted glass and billion-dollar smiles.

Ding.

A soft chime sounded in the silent elevator as it climbed to the top floor.

Rope Girl stood motionless, arms crossed with her eyes fixed on the steel doors.

Right next to her, Deathmark shifted slightly, fidgeting with her gloves as her beautiful, pink eyes flicked over every few seconds in curiosity.

She finally spoke, hesitantly.

"… So, uhm… why'd the Chairman want you to deliver the package?"

She asked with an awkward smile, trying to make it sound casual.

"He's got like—what—seven personal agents for that?"

Rope Girl exhaled sharply through her nose as her head dipped just slightly.

"… What?" she asked in a flat, almost bored tone.

Deathmark chuckled weakly.

"No offense! I just… y'know, it's weird. You're—uh—you."

"He probably wants an excuse to talk…"

Rope Girl muttered, eyes still closed.

"Since we just got back from assignment."

"… Oh." Deathmark blinked. "Right."

Silence again. The elevator rose.

･･･

Chairman Lymtos's Office.

Vast. Pristine. Intimidating.

Floor-to-ceiling windows. Polished marbles.

Everything you'd expect from the office of a powerful man.

In the center sat the old man.

He was working on his hyper-advanced rubix cube.

Click.

The cube completed itself. He set it gently on the desk.

"Ahhh~"

He greeted without looking up.

"Rope Girl. Punctual as ever."

THUD.

The package hit the desk like a corpse.

Deathmark flinched, almost yelping.

『D-, Did she just… THROW IT AT HIM──?!』

Her legs were shaking.

Lymtos blinked at it, then glanced up at Rope Girl with a small smile.

She looked calm and pissed at the same time — you could almost call it mildly annoyed.

"How can you be so calm?"

She said, voice low and firm.

"You let the 23rd ranked assassin on the GSI list escape from Ashgate Penitentiary. Then you covered it up from the press like it's just another day in paradise. And the next morning, you sit on a talk show with Charles Reed like you didn't just sweep a national threat under the rug."

Her brows drew tight.

Her tone wasn't loud, but it cut like a scalpel.

For a moment, it felt like she was the one in control — lecturing the Chairman like a pissed-off teacher.

Lymtos laced his fingers together, resting his chin on them as he chuckled softly.

"Who knows how Trickshot escaped? I fund Ashgate to a level most prison facilities can only dream of. Top-tier tech. Surveillance. Biometric lockdowns. If they failed, why should I take the blame?"

BLAM.

Rope Girl slammed her hand against the desk, then leaned in with narrowed eyes.

Her voice was ice.

"You have access to every security code and exit in every penitentiary the Agency funds. Don't play dumb."

The tension was a noose.

Deathmark quietly tiptoed backward as her boots made soft little squeaks as she tried to fade out of frame.

"Ohoho… you're sharp."

Lymtos leaned back, relaxed as ever, spinning a second Rubik's Cube in his fingers.

"Still, Charles has always been a thorn in my side. That man's made it his life mission to bark at my heels."

He began unsealing the box.

"And yet…" he murmured.

Rip.

The moment the cardboard tore open, a wave of rot slammed into the room.

A foul, cloying stench that made even Deathmark gag.

"I'm always victorious."

Inside the box, nestled in blood-soaked cloth, was a bodiless, half-decayed head.

Deathmark slapped both hands over her mouth, eyes wide and trembling.

"… No…" she whispered. "No way…"

Rope Girl stared.

"Is that the host from this morning?"

"Indeed…"

Lymtos smiled like an angel.

"Our dear Charles won't be asking impertinent questions anymore."

Rope Girl raised a brow. "When did you—?"

He raised a finger to her.

"HE did it."

Her expression darkened. "Him again?"

Lymtos gave a satisfied nod, now toying with a lock of Charles's matted hair like it was a stress toy.

"What's beautiful about him is that iron will. I barely need to say a word. He understands."

Deathmark stood frozen behind them, pale and wide-eyed.

『Who the hell are they talking about?』

Still smiling, Lymtos continued—

"And he didn't just stop at Charles. He hunted down every connection that man had. His parents. His wife. Their children. Family friends. Even the infants. Erased them. Burned their homes to cinders. As if they never existed."

He knocked twice on the skull.

Thunk. Thunk.

"All while I was enjoying my morning coffee."

Rope Girl blinked once.

"Good for you. If he's so amazing, then I won't need to get my hands dirty, right? He claims to know Nightwatch's identity, and everyone around him. Should be easy work."

She turned and began walking away.

Deathmark immediately followed.

But Lymtos's voice called after them—

"He does know. But don't wash your hands just yet. When the time comes… I want to make an example of Nightwatch. That name won't die until my friend makes sure of it. And when he does, there won't be anyone left to say that name again. No get backs."

Rope Girl gave a nod without looking back.

Deathmark didn't speak.

They both exited the room.

Behind them, the Chairman leaned back with a satisfied smile as he twisted the Rubik's Cube once, and whispered to the severed head—

"… Good morning, Charles."