10x God-Tier Stealing System: Pumping S-Rank SuperHeroines Daily!-Chapter 58- Setting a trap for whole superhero organizations

A sharp, collective intake of breath rippled violently through the hall. The silence was no longer respectful—it was utterly terrified.

Terror born from the undeniable fact that no one ever dared to openly challenge the superheroes, given their inhuman strength and influence—even if someone claimed a normal citizen’s voice didn’t matter. But that heavy suggestion—was to legally treat the world’s saviors like common, leash-bound criminals.

"So we can actually keep a close eye on them. Monitor their violent actions. Their whereabouts. Their hidden motives." Cruxius’s sharp jaw tightened faintly. "Because who knows how many innocent people die daily, slaughtered under the convenient excuse of ’collateral damage’? Just the chilling thought that I, protected by all the world’s elite security, could be harmed so easily—makes you wonder what dark atrocities they commit unchecked every single day."

And then, silence. Not the hollow kind—but the incredibly heavy kind. The kind that heavily grips your chest like cold iron.

Cruxius understood exactly why. His cold gaze locked onto the main broadcast camera, fully aware that the political situation for his father was about to become highly critical. Even though their family was among the absolute richest, the massive entity he was targeting had total control over the superhumans themselves.

Yet the critical, manipulative difference was that, unlike lawless supervillains, superheroes were tightly bound by public laws, strict discipline, and a rigid code of conduct—that’s exactly what once made them ’heroes.’

So the Hero Association couldn’t just declare a bloody war. They would have to formally, carefully respond—but behind the scenes, they might send beautiful assassins to permanently silence him in his bed. Not that it mattered to him. He was already planning to escalate this tense situation to the point that, if he were to somehow die, all bloody fingers would be pointed straight at the Association.

Not that he intended to let anyone kill him either.

All eyes in the room slowly, nervously turned to Sugar, the official spokesperson for the Association, seated just a few feet away in the front row.

But Sugar wasn’t there to officially participate in the press conference. She simply kept staring up at Cruxius. Her ruby eyes flickered with intense anger, deep hatred, confusion, and a raw, visceral betrayal—the exact look of a passionate woman who couldn’t even take revenge for being so thoroughly wronged. She bit down hard on her plump lower lip, her heavy breasts rising and falling rapidly under the collective gaze of the room.

There was something else hidden behind her tense silence. Given her elite rank as an S-rank hero, her sheer presence should’ve naturally commanded the absolute center of attention. But not today. Today, she was just an observer to his dominance.

And that was definitively proven by the media’s desperate questions completely bypassing her, directed solely toward the man on the stage—

"Sir, are you suggesting the Association is criminally negligent—?"

"Do you have concrete proof of more such deaths, Mr. Cruxius?"

"Will the Blac family pursue aggressive legal action?!"

"Aren’t these statements dangerously inflammatory?!"

"Are you speaking as a corporate heir—or as something more?!"

Cruxius raised a dark, perfectly arched brow, thoroughly amused at how quickly the media storm returned—this time far more volatile and hungry than before.

But it wasn’t panic stirring in his chest.

It was the thrill of dominance. It was going to be global headlines.

Because this wasn’t some anonymous, weak whistleblower crying for help.

This was Cruxius Blac.

And when an heir with this much dark power speaks—entire systems are forced to drop to their knees and listen.

No matter the world—in the end, money and raw power always remain supreme.

Volta stood tall on the rooftop of the old building, her lush figure cloaked in a skin-tight purple and black latex suit.

The deep plunge of her neckline left her heavy cleavage glistening with sweat and moonlight as it fell on her milky white skin.

The spandex was pulled tight enough to aggressively reveal every soft curve and dip of her body, and the biting cold night air caused the rigid peaks of her nipples to press distinctly against the unforgiving fabric. Her vibrant purple hair fluttered in the wind, and the tight gold of her breeches—clinging flawlessly to her thick thighs—betrayed the coldness of her eyes as she looked toward the Saint Regalia Hospital.

’Alvian... a simple dean can do that?’ Ytrisia had her own doubts considering living near the building; she recalled the information provided to her by Darithi, who told her that the attack was instigated by the dean of this hospital.

She would have doubted that if not for her previous information being true.

The cold night air only seemed to heighten her senses, brushing against her exposed collarbones. But as she watched the heavy doors swing open from across the street while preparing to leap directly onto the rooftop of the hospital, a soft vibration traveled through her delicate fingertips, a subtle, humming reminder of the activation of her power that made the latex vibrate against her sensitive skin.

Her heartbeat pulsed in a heavy rhythm with the sensation of kinetic energy surging beneath her flushed skin, waiting.

Then came a noise.

Clank.

A sharp scrape of metal against stone, too heavy to be the wind.

Volta’s head snapped to the side, her breasts shifting heavily with the sudden flinch, widening her eyes as two figures emerged from the shadows, standing opposite her.

They were clad in dark armor, their faces hidden behind battle masks. Volta’s gaze narrowed as she recognized the badges on their chests—Villain Syndicate.

"So, this is the S-rank hero they warned us about," the taller of the two villains muttered, his eyes shamelessly raking over her voluptuous, latex-clad figure as a cruel smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth hidden beneath the mask.

The other villain, smaller but quicker, brushed a lock of dark hair from his face, his eyes glinting with calculated, predatory amusement. "Now we understand why that technical lady sent the message. Highest priority, she said. And here we are, standing in front of the great Volta. It all now makes sense?"