I'm Not Your Husband, You Evil Dragon!-Chapter 89: Infiltration: Phase One

(Yuuta’s POV)

We’d made it in.

Two unconscious guards by the side entrance had made that possible. Their uniforms were a bit big on us, and one still smelled like cheap cologne and fried food, but they did the job. With their radios, ID tags, and a lot of luck, Erika and I had slipped past the outer perimeter.

Now we were hiding inside the boys’ washroom, posing as Mobius staff while trying to figure out our next move.

The plan had been simple: infiltrate, gather intel, and figure out how to get to the auditorium without alerting every gunman in the place.

But in practice?

It was terrifying.

We’d been quiet for over fifteen minutes. Just... waiting. Breathing. The stench of old soap and disinfectant filled the air. It was the kind of silence that made every sound louder—every footstep in the hall, every radio crackle on the guard’s belt, even the buzz of the flickering light above the mirror.

I paced a little, careful not to make too much noise.

This whole thing still didn’t make sense. A full-blown terrorist group taking over a school? It wasn’t just excessive—it was calculated. Too clean. Too organized. This wasn’t about politics or ransom.

Something else was happening here.

Erika leaned against the stall door, arms crossed, perfectly still.

She hadn’t said much since we came in. Not that she ever said much.

Then finally—click.

The door creaked open.

A guard stepped inside, yawning and muttering something under his breath. Looked half-asleep. He headed straight for the urinals without even glancing around.

Perfect.

I met Erika’s eyes.

She gave a small nod.

We moved at the same time—quiet, controlled, like we’d rehearsed it a hundred times.

I kept to his left while she circled behind.

Then—

Whack.

The blunt end of a baton slammed into the back of his head. He crumpled instantly, groaning as he slumped forward.

Unfortunately, he didn’t exactly fall in a graceful position.

I winced. "Ugh. That’s... definitely something I never needed to see."

Erika didn’t even look at me as she dragged him by the collar into the far corner. "You start talking to yourself again, and I’ll knock you out next."

"I’m just saying," I muttered. "That might’ve triggered a new lifelong phobia."

"Zip him up."

"...What?"

"I’m a girl. It’s awkward. Just do it."

I blinked at her. "You literally just took him down while he was mid-pee, and now it’s awkward?"

She turned slowly. Gave me that look. The one that said I’m counting to three in my head.

"Right. Got it. Zip duty."

I handled the awkward part—badly—and helped her tie the guy up with a plastic pie from under the sink. We gagged him with part of a torn cleaning rag, checked his pockets, and found a radio, an ID badge, and a crumpled piece of paper with what looked like patrol routes scrawled across it.

I grabbed the washroom jet spray and aimed it at his face. A quick burst of cold water jolted him awake.

He sputtered violently, blinking fast as the world came back into focus.

Then his eyes went wide.

I pulled the rag from his mouth just enough for him to speak.

"Who the hell are you?! What do you want—You don’t know who I am—"

Smack.

Erika cut him off with a backhand across the face.

She shook her head. "Can’t you see the situation."

I knelt down next to him, arms resting on my knees. "Let’s keep this simple. How many people are stationed inside? Who’s your boss? What does Mobius want?"

He squinted at me, then scoffed.

"You? You’re the one asking questions? With that baby face?"

I blinked. "Seriously? Again with the face thing?"

He chuckled weakly. "You look like someone’s younger brother trying to play spy."

"People always underestimate me because of how I look,just because I don’t have facial hair you understimate me" I said, frowning. "But I promise you—I’m a lot more dangerous than I seem."

Erika stepped forward. She didn’t say a word. Just slammed her foot into the wall beside his head.

CRACK.

Tiles shattered. Dust fell around his ears.

"I’m not in the mood," she said. "Two of your friends are already dead. Keep going, and I’ll make it three."

That got his attention.

He swallowed hard. Eyes darted between us.

Then... something changed in his expression. His lips curled into a sneer.

The man flinched, jaw tight. He spat at the floor.

"You really don’t get it, do you?" he said, breathing heavier. "We’re Mobius. This school, this city—it’s ours now. And after we’re done this mission, We’ll wipe out every last one of you.

And when we’re done, we’ll find where you live. We take what we want. Women, children—makes no difference.You know what we do to women like her? We break them. Sell them. Fuck them until they’re begging to die. Then we—"

I didn’t let him finish.

I moved.

Faster than I thought I could.

My fist smashed into the side of his jaw with a sickening crack. His mouth snapped shut mid-sentence. I didn’t even realize his tongue was still partly out until I saw the sudden spray of blood—heard the muffled gurgle.

He screamed, thrashing against the cords. Blood poured from his mouth. He couldn’t speak now—could barely breathe through the agony.

I grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back. Brought my mouth close to his ear.

My voice was calm. Too calm.

"You can say whatever the hell you want about me. But the second you mentioned my family... especially my wife..." I tightened my grip, "you signed your death sentence."

He whimpered through the blood, eyes wide, full of pain and—finally—fear.

I leaned in closer.

"If I die today, I’ll come back for you. Again. And again. And again. Until you don’t even remember what peace feels like."

His breathing was fast and uneven.

I let go.

The guy was trembling like a leaf, eyes bulging with fear as blood poured from his mouth. His entire body convulsed in pain as he clutched his jaw, gagging on his own scream. I took a step back, chest rising and falling, my pulse still hammering from what I’d just done.

I didn’t even feel angry anymore. Just... hollow. Numb.

Then—

Whack!

A sharp smack to the back of my head nearly knocked me forward.

"OW—what the hell?!" I spun around, only to see Erika glaring at me like I’d just burned down her apartment.

"You absolute idiot!" she snapped. "Why the hell did you cut off his tongue?!"

I blinked. "He was saying some really disturbing shit, alright? He crossed the line!"

She slapped her palm to her forehead like she physically couldn’t believe it. "And now he can’t talk, genius! We needed information, not a freaking horror show!"

I glanced at the guard, still writhing in a ball of blood and regret on the floor. Okay... yeah, maybe I went a little overboard.

"I got caught up in the moment," I muttered. "The guy mentioned my family, and I just... snapped."

Erika crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. "Right. And since when did Erza become your wife, you lunatic?"

I blinked. "...Wait. What?"

"You said it. ’Mention my wife again and I’ll resurrect to kill you.’" Her voice dropped into mocking territory. "Are you sick?! Erza is your sister, you weirdo!"

My heart froze. Oh... right. Erika still thinks Erza’s my sister.

My face went pale. "I—I just got so into character, I forgot we were... y’know..."

"Siblings?" she hissed, fuming. "You forgot you were siblings?! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"Look, that guy was threatening the people I care about! I wasn’t thinking!"

She groaned and started pacing like a stressed-out teacher trying not to throw a chair during finals week.

"We had one source of intel. One. And Mr. ’Drama Mode’ here had to go full revenge anime protagonist and cripple him."

"Okay, hold on—" I raised my hands. "Didn’t we grab something from him earlier? Like... a notebook?"

She stopped pacing. "...Oh. Yeah. Right."

I pointed. "Then let’s use it. If he can’t talk, he can still write."

We both turned toward the guard. He was looking at us, clearly in agony but also desperate to avoid losing any more body parts. When I held up the notebook, he nodded—fast.

"Smart choice," Erika muttered.

She tossed him the pen. "Write. Everything."

His hands were shaking, but he grabbed the pen like it was the only lifeline he had left and started scribbling. Fast. Pages filled up one after another, blood still dripping from his chin but determination written in his strokes.

Erika and I crouched down and started reading over his shoulder.

"Damn..." I whispered, flipping a page. "This guy’s handwriting is weirdly neat for someone bleeding out."

According to the notes:

Two auditoriums.

One holds the hostages—mostly kids.

The other houses Faluni, the leader.

Fifteen members total.

One in the control room.

Six guarding the kids.

Four with Faluni.

And Rock—Faluni’s right-hand man—went off to the cafeteria.

We’d already taken out three.

Erika’s face went cold and focused. "So we’ve got twelve left."

"And we can’t risk going loud again," I said quietly. "Too many lives at stake. Elena... she’s in there too."

Erika leaned against the sink, arms crossed. "Still... if we can cause the right kind of chaos, we might be able to pull enough guards away to split them up."

I nodded, mind racing. A dozen ideas flashing and failing.

Then—click.

"Wait... I’ve got an idea."

She didn’t even look at me. "If you say it’s your ’Thor Plan’ again, I swear I will knock you out and leave you here with Tongueless Tim."

"No, no!" I waved my hands. "This one’s different. I promise—it’s smart. Like, actual smart."

She turned slowly, skeptical. "Go on."

I stepped closer and started laying it out, whispering the details of the plan like it was some forbidden spell. Erika didn’t react at first. Just listened. Quiet. Focused.

When I finished, she tilted her head slightly.

"...Huh. That might actually work."

She gave a rare, small smirk. Almost proud.

"Alright, genius," she said, pulling her weapon close. "Let’s go cause some chaos."

(Rock’s POV)

Sigh... I can’t believe I’m stuck with this kid again.

She was sitting on one of the cafeteria benches, her legs too short to touch the ground, happily kicking her feet while sucking on the last piece of chocolate I gave her.

It was surreal. Outside these walls, her classmates were huddled together in fear, and here she was, humming like we were at a picnic.

"What’s your name again?" I asked, mostly to fill the silence.

She looked up with big, bright eyes. "Elena! I’m four years old!" she said proudly, as if her age was some kind of accomplishment.

I raised an eyebrow. "Four, huh? You don’t seem like the sharpest one in the group."

She just giggled.

Great. A giggler.

"Alright, kid. Don’t bother me too much, alright?" I muttered. "If you sit there quietly, I’ll give you more chocolate later."

Her eyes lit up like I’d offered her gold. "Okay~! Thank you, Uncle!"

"Uncle..." I repeated under my breath. "Yeah, sure. Why not."

The truth is, I had to separate her from the others. Her first scream when we brought the kids in? Half my squad’s ears are still ringing. Something about her... she wasn’t normal. Dangerous, even. But right now, all I saw was a sugar-hyped toddler grinning at me with chocolate on her chin.

And somehow, she didn’t look afraid.

"You’re really not scared?" I asked, genuinely curious now. "Not even a little?"

"Nope," she replied cheerfully. "Elena only gets scared when Mama is angry!"

That caught me off guard. "Your mom scares you more than this?"

She nodded with a sweet little laugh. "But not anymore! Mama is nice now, because of Papa."

"Your dad made your mom nicer?"

"Mmhmm! Mama’s super strong, but when Papa hugs her, she stops being angry. Papa makes everything better."

I stared at her, not sure how to respond. She said it with such certainty—like that’s just how life works.

I leaned back, arms crossed. "You talk about your family a lot."

"Because I love them!" she said with a bright smile. "Mama is scary, but I love her. Papa is funny and smart. They make me feel safe."

Her words hit harder than I expected.

Safe. That’s all I ever wanted for my family too.

I looked away.

"...What about you?" she asked after a beat. "Where’s your family?"

I took a breath. My voice came out quieter than I intended. "Gone."

Her eyes widened. "Gone where?"

I hesitated. Then gave her the only version I could manage.

"One day, a... god showed up. Said he wanted to show my family the stars. Told them they could see the universe, if they went with him."

She frowned. "Why didn’t you go too?"

"I had work," I murmured. "Said I’d catch up later."

She was quiet for a moment.

Then she asked, very softly, "Uncle... are you crying?"

Damn it.

I wiped my face with my sleeve, fast. "No. Just dust in the air."

There was a pause. Then, in the softest voice I’d heard from her yet, she asked, "Do you miss them?"

I didn’t answer right away. I just nodded.

"Elena misses her Papa sometimes too," she whispered. "But he said he’ll come for me. No matter what."

Something about that... hit me deep.

This little girl, with her wild power and innocent smile, still believed her dad would come crashing through the walls to save her. Like it was a guarantee.

I envied that kind of faith.

Before I could say anything else, the walkie-talkie clipped to my belt crackled to life.

"Rock. You there?"

I grabbed it. "Yeah, Boss. I’m here."

His voice came through with a sharp, unsettling laugh. That high-pitched one he always did when he was about to say something twisted.

"I see you’ve find good Company."

I froze. My eyes darted to the corner camera. Damn it. I’d forgotten he could see me.

"I was keeping her calm. Nothing more," I said quickly. "Didn’t want her screaming again."

"Oh, I believe you," he said, still laughing.

"But you’re getting comfortable, Rock. I don’t like that. So do me a favor..."

The line went quiet for a beat.

"Shoot her."

My hand stiffened. "Boss, come on—she’s four."

"I don’t care if she’s a fetus," he snapped. "You think I don’t know what that brat can do? She’s dangerous do you forget about her, what our client say And You saw it yourself too."

I looked at her.

Still sitting there. Still smiling. A bit of chocolate on her nose now.

"You pull that trigger," he said coldly. "Or I’ll assume you’ve turned. And you know what happens to traitors."

Elena looked up at me, eyes wide and full of trust.

"Uncle?" she asked softly. "Are you okay?"

My hand hovered near my holster. The weight of the pistol suddenly felt heavier than it ever had before.

I swallowed hard.

This wasn’t supposed to be hard. I’ve done worse. I’ve done much worse.

So why now?

Why her?

I met her eyes. And in that second...

I realized I didn’t know what I was going to do.

To be continued...

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