The Evil Scientist is Too Competent

After her discussion with the Hero Association’s chairman, Regalia returned to the headquarters of Evilus Corporation and immediately set out to verify the truth behind his claims using the company’s intelligence network.

The news that other corporations had secretly withdrawn their sponsorships without her knowledge was unsettling. How could such a thing happen, given that nearly all the world’s information flowed into her grasp? After only a few searches, she found the answer.

“So that’s it—there’s simply too much information.”

Evilus Corporation’s intelligence network, powered by the Evilus Agent system, was the most advanced in the world. It gathered not just data but also unstructured information. Anything captured by the camera of a smartphone would eventually find its way to Evilus.

For anything this network couldn’t access, the corporation had Six, its top spy. There was not a single piece of classified information that Six had failed to retrieve—no matter how tightly guarded.

Effectively, Evilus Corporation had access to all the world’s knowledge. Within the corporation, even trivial secrets—such as the hobby of a stern, middle-aged actor who secretly enjoyed cross-dressing and being whipped—were hardly a mystery.

Everyone knew Evilus Corporation was a repository of the world’s information. And therein lay the problem.

“They made me filter it myself.”

It was an obvious truth: no single person could read through all that information. If someone attempted to sift through everything Evilus Corporation received, it would take decades. By the time they were done, the data would be too outdated to hold any value.

New information was constantly being generated—daily, weekly, monthly—in massive volumes.

Even Regalia, with all her access, could only process a fraction of the data. The information she received was filtered, prioritized, and condensed to include only the most critical matters requiring her immediate attention.

And so, other corporations had hidden their withdrawal of sponsorships by creating larger, more pressing events to overshadow it. More precisely, they had ensured that the information never made its way to her.

“What are they trying to accomplish by going this far?”

It didn’t take long for her to figure it out. In today’s world, having access to all information was nearly equivalent to omniscience. Regalia, the closest thing to a modern deity, could uncover their intentions by simply following the trail of financial records.

Analyzing the flow of funds, she couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Are they trying to start a war?”

The sponsorships previously sent to the Hero Association had been redirected to individual heroes’ accounts.

In other words, corporations were no longer sponsoring the association itself. Instead, they were funding heroes directly, pulling them into their own circles of influence.

The privatization of heroes had begun.

Updat𝒆d fr𝑜m freewebnøvel.com.

*****

A week had passed since the Hero Association disbanded. Though people remained shaken by the news, daily life continued largely unchanged.

After all, the Hero Association had dissolved because it had become obsolete.

“Everyone freeze! If you don’t want to freeze to death, get on the grou—ugh!”

[Target subdued.]

The tasks once handled by heroes were now fully delegated to androids. Patrols, security, and even maintaining public order were carried out by these tireless machines. To ease public concerns about their intimidating appearance, some androids were even disguised with synthetic human skin, making it nearly impossible for villains to identify them in advance.

There were still high-grade villains who couldn’t be subdued by androids alone, but they had all either been killed or captured before the collapse of the association.

In short, the only villains left in society were petty criminals who weren’t worth arresting or newly emerging ones.

“Damn it. How am I supposed to make a living now?”

“What do you mean, no money? What’ve you been doing all this time?”

“What do you think? Spending it all. Between loans and my mortgage, I can barely keep up with the interest. Should I sell my house?”

“Hmm, just between us... I got a proposal.”

With no work to be found, heroes were forced to consider other options. The higher their rank, the direr their situation. High-level heroes who had splurged on mansions, yachts, and private jets were now desperate to scrape together funds to pay off their debts.

At this critical moment, a subtle hand was extended toward them.

“C City made an offer. They’re looking for heroes ranked A or higher.”

“...You mean become a corporate lackey?”

“So what? There are no more villains, anyway. Isn’t it about time we started living for ourselves?”

“...Maybe.”

“Besides, if you refuse, how will you pay your interest? Gonna sell your house?”

The proposal was simple: corporations were recruiting A-rank heroes and above for tasks beyond android capabilities. Before the association’s collapse, such offers would have been rejected outright, but now they were the only lifeline for many heroes.

No one in their position would turn down the last rope dangling before them. One by one, heroes began aligning themselves with corporations, from A-rank to even S-rank.

Among them, however, were individuals who took the initiative to propose their value to corporations instead.

“─I’m Gaiza. Former S-rank hero.”

Regalia raised an intrigued eyebrow as she looked at Gaiza, seated across from her.

A former S-rank hero. The same man who had fought Galrm in the past and been defeated. He had even come close to capturing Galrm before his awakening.

In other words, Gaiza was a man who had a long history of bad blood with the forces of evil.

“And why come here of all places?”

“Because I need money.”

“As an S-rank hero, surely you’ve saved enough?”

“Well... it’s complicated, but I don’t have any. I blew it all on extravagant spending.”

“Hmm, a bit of a spendthrift, are you?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Regalia stared at the man, then used the Evilus Agent network to investigate where he had been spending his money. While the situation of an S-rank hero walking into a corporation was unusual, hiring a gambling addict or someone similarly reckless was out of the question.

What she found surprised even her.

Gaiza had been running a foundation that supported victims of villain attacks and the families of heroes who had died in battle.

While not impressive by a corporate standard, he had donated sums of money that ordinary people couldn’t dream of earning in a lifetime. His lack of funds and his desperate plea for work now made sense.

“I see. But why choose our corporation specifically?”

“Well, you’re the most successful in the world, aren’t you? Evilus Corp, Evilus Agents, and all that. I figured you’d pay the best.”

“Not wrong. I don’t mean to brag, but I am quite generous with my subordinates.”

Still—

Regalia found herself hesitating.

An S-rank hero. A formidable asset. But was he a necessary one?

The organization already had plenty of superhumans. Two of her executives possessed far greater physical prowess than Gaiza, and if she wanted, her scientists could easily create androids that outperformed him.

Good, but not indispensable—that was her evaluation of Gaiza.

“However, I don’t see your skills being particularly useful to us.”

“Fair enough. I’ve thought the same myself. Who’s going to pay a thug like me who only knows how to punch and break things? People talk about me getting hired, but it’s all nonsense.”

“─You’ve heard those rumors?”

“Yeah, well, I know a lot of S-rank heroes.”

It was then that Regalia realized Gaiza’s true value. While he might lack unique skills, his reputation and network were not to be underestimated.

He was well-connected with other S-rank heroes, making him a potential bridge to those she had yet to establish ties with.

Whether he knew it or not, Gaiza wasn’t just a brute—he was a strategic asset.

“We won’t be hiring you for the organization.”

“Oh, I see. Sorry for wasting your time.”

“However, another role might suit you.”

“What’s that?”

“How about becoming a spy?”

Gaiza feigned a moment of hesitation, then grinned, curling his fingers into a gesture of acceptance.

“Will it pay well?”

It was a sign of agreement.