Two experiments had been sent to the mountain where S‑72 had fought Ron — the same mountain where DA's house stood.
At the scene:
"Reporting: S‑73 and S‑74 have reached the location," S‑73 said.
"Is this really the place?" S‑74 asked. "S‑72 was a worthless experiment, yet he caused so much destruction."
"Let's investigate DA's house," S‑73 replied.
"Yeah, why not. I really want to see the house of the guy who took nine heads of the Foster Organization all at once," S‑74 said.
"Shut it." S‑73 kicked him. "That's classified."
S‑74 grabbed S‑73's jacket, launched himself into the air, and landed in front of the house.
"Is this really DA's house? This old, abandoned thing — it'll collapse any second," S‑74 muttered as he walked to the door.
"Stop, S‑74!" S‑73 shouted.
The instant S‑74 touched the doorknob, a bolt of lightning shot from the doorway and slammed into him. He was thrown far back.
"What was that? I can't stand. I can't use my power." S‑74 struggled.
"Didn't I tell you to stop? This is DA — who knows what he'll do." S‑73 warned. "When you get back on your feet, be on high alert. This place is dangerous."
S‑73 turned to face the house. How could they get inside? he wondered.
"Hey, S‑73 — where do you think DA is?" S‑74 asked.
"I don't know. And I don't want to. If he were here, we'd be dead the moment we stepped foot on this land." S‑73 replied.
"That's true. Even if all Nine Heads had come together, they couldn't take him down. One look from him and we'd be finished." S‑74 said, struggling to rise. Suddenly a pressure slammed into them; both fell to the ground.
"What the hell is happening to us?" S‑74 groaned, turning his head. Three women were approaching.
The woman in front had white hair and blue eyes. To her right was a blonde with dark eyes. To her left walked a woman with black hair and brown eyes.
They passed close by.
"Who are you?" S‑74 called.
The black‑haired woman looked at him. S‑74's left forearm twisted and snapped — bones breaking. He stifled a scream.
"What happened?" S‑73 watched helplessly.
"S‑74 was a useless experiment, like the rest of you. And yet he caused such destruction in the mountains," the black‑haired woman said.
"We normally use experiments like you for reconnaissance and spying," the blonde added. "But S‑72 surprised us."
The white‑haired woman — who carried herself like a leader — looked at S‑73.
"We are three of the Nine Heads," she said.
S‑74 and S‑73's eyes widened.
"What made three of the Heads come here?" S‑73 asked, voice thin with respect.
"We're here to destroy DA's house," the white‑haired woman answered. "You two can leave."
S‑74 and S‑73 nodded and walked away without looking back.
The three women turned toward the house. The white‑haired woman remembered the day the Nine Heads had confronted DA.
It had been an ordinary morning. DA was sweeping in front of his house when he paused and looked toward the trees.
"You can come out now," he had said.
The Nine Heads had become visible. The three women had been among them that day, their faces shadowed by the dim sun.
DA had simply pointed his broom at the Nine Heads.
Back to the present, the white‑haired woman muttered, clenching her fists, "Next time we meet, I'll kill you myself."
The other two tried to calm her.
"We underestimated him."
"We didn't know about his abilities. We were caught off guard."
Someone watched the scene from the trees: Rocky, camera rolling, live‑streaming back to Bruce's base.
Bruce and Ron watched everything from the base.
Suddenly the blonde turned toward the camera.
Rocky remained as calm as ever.
"Rocky, run!" Ron shouted through the earpiece from the base.
Rocky had noticed the blonde woman's gaze from the very beginning.
But before he could react—before his next blink—he suddenly found himself standing right in front of all three of them.
"No…" Bruce muttered, eyes widening.
"I'll help him," Ron said, rising from his chair.
"You're not in any condition to fight," Bruce snapped, his tone firm.
The blonde woman's eyes began to glow—a deep, black radiance swallowing the light around her.
In the next instant, a blade flashed.
It pierced straight through Rocky's throat.
When the dust settled, his body was gone.
"It was an afterimage," said the white-haired woman calmly. "Let's report back."
In Bruce's base
"Woah... I'm glad that wasn't the real Rocky," Ron exhaled in relief.
"Thanks to him, we got plenty of information," Bruce replied, eyes fixed on the monitors.
"There are nine heads of Foster—and DA fought them… and won."
Ron leaned forward. "But we still don't know the power level of the Heads. If S-72 was that strong… how powerful are the Elders?"
Bruce sighed. "From what I've learned, S-72 was just a low-level experiment. Same as S-73 and S-74. He only got that strong because your blood took over."
Ron frowned. "How do you know that?"
Bruce's fingers stopped on the keyboard. "I examined one of S-72's body parts. He was a normal human. But your blood… mutated him. It gave him time-control abilities—and something more."
He paused, face lit by the screen's glow. "If your blood could do that, there's a high chance more experiments like him exist. But something else troubles me."
"What is it?" Ron asked.
"If the Foster Heads ever discover that your blood has a will of its own… they'll try to control it. The Power of the Red Eyes. They might even inject your blood into themselves—if they haven't already."
Ron shook his head. "No one knows about that. Only you, Rocky, and me. S-72 died in another dimension. No witnesses."
Bruce looked uneasy. "I hope you're right," he muttered under his breath.
Ron sat on the nearby couch, rubbing his temples.
Suddenly, something flickered across his vision:
[The True Black Sorcerer is looking at you.]