“Not one killer,” Kid Win answered, “Nine bodies, each for different killers.”

I see. Which means nine killers. Still fits with the Slaughterhouse Nine.

“The Slaughterhouse Nine,” Clockblocker leaned back in his seat, groaning, “Fuck, that’d be all we needed.”

If I remember correctly, the Slaughterhouse Nine was introduced alongside Nilbog as examples of the really dangerous motherfuckers.

Judging by the state of those corpses, that seems justified.

“Wouldn’t be the first time they’ve arrived at a location in the wake of an Endbringer event,” Flechette pointed out.

I feel like that counts as taking advantage of an Endbringer event.

I mean, it’s not like the other things they’ve been up to wouldn’t land them in the Birdcage anyway, but yeah.

“Maybe it’s them,” Weld conceded, “And maybe the Protectorate figured that much out, with the clues they have from the other two scenes.  It could be someone or something else.  Either way, it’s not our case, not even in our league, and we should stay as hands off as we can manage.  We need to talk about patrols and tonight’s duties.”

Yeah, fair enough. They’d only get in trouble if they meddled. They don’t even have a dog.

Vista leaned forward, “Maybe a serial killer?”

“We should focus on what we do know,” Weld shook his head. “As far as tonight’s patrols-“

I mean, yeah, this evidently is some form of mass/serial killer, just by virtue of killing multiple people, but that doesn’t really tell us much.

Random thought: What if that mecha speedster who’s been running around is responsible? If that’s the case, I have a feeling they might not want to become a Ward after all.

“Actually,” Kid Win cut in, “Sorry.  But I have one theory.”

Lay it on me.

“What?” Clockblocker asked.

Kid Win glanced at Weld, checking to see if their leader was ok with it.  Weld didn’t say anything, which he took as assent to continue.

“There were two other crime scenes, right?  Any idea if there were the same number of bodies at each crime scene?”

Nine in total, in that case.

Does that mean anything to you?

“Same number-” Weld raised an eyebrow, “Why… Oh.  Shit.  I think I follow.”

I don’t.

Smarter than you’d think, given his brute-force power and his appearance, Kid Win realized.  Or I’m just that bad with numbers.  The connection took me twenty minutes to make.

Yeah, poor Weld, getting underestimated all the time for being a Brute.

Although that could be beneficial in a battle.

“Three crime scenes with three bodies each.  So it’d be nine bodies?” Clockblocker asked, “Each killed in some different way?  I don’t see what killer that would fit with.”

Slaughterhouse Nine?

Took me a moment to remember that their association with the number nine was not something I made up from a name involving a Fellowship. It was the other way around, the number nine causing me to joke about the “Fellowship of the Meat”.

So are they the victims? Are these villains killed by other villains or an anti-hero?

“Got word from the Protectorate.  They’re handling the case with the bodies, we’re not to touch it or get involved in any way,” Weld spoke, folding his arms.

Alrighty, then.

He had what looked like acne – blisters of extra-shiny metal on his face where the remainder of the darts hadn’t yet been fully integrated into his ‘skin’.

Heh, nice.

He reclined in an expensive, custom-made office chair, capable of supporting his dense, heavy body.  Everyone else had found seats in the central room of their headquarters.  Everyone, that was, except for Glory Girl, who had gone home.  She wasn’t yet an official member of the team.

See ya, Glory Girl!

“No word on what’s going on?” Clockblocker asked.

“They’re staying quiet on the subject,” Weld spoke.

Huh.

Let’s get back to this Kid Winterl– wait, no, this is a regular chapter. Kid Wchapter?

Whatever it is, let’s just get back to it!

Weld spoke, disturbing him from his thoughts, “I just got a message.  PRT is on their way.  We head back now.”

Oh right, I forgot they were still here, in the corpse house. I kinda got lost in Kid’s thoughts too.

Hearing the unenthusiastic replies of his teammates, Kid Win realized that the rest of the team wasn’t in any better of a mood than he was.  Losing had a way of doing that.

Yeah, that’s fair.

Please don’t blame yourself for the others feeling bad, though. 😦

Strangely comforting.

Not exactly where I thought that might go, but I can see it. Misery loves company.

■

Scene change!

There were exceptions.  He’d finished bigger projects.  His hoverboard, driven by the idea of how awesome it would be to fly.  Even then, it had been a chore.  Monumentally stupid of him to dismantle it.  The idea and motivation driving the action had been good: he was graduating the Wards in a little while, he’d be expected to change his name and adjust his methods, because an adult calling himself Kid Win was lame.

Heh, true. Any thoughts on what you’ll call yourself later? Mister Win? Adult Win? Dude

Victory? Guy Fieri?

He’d had an idea about a harness with a floating array of turrets that could fire different munitions depending on what gun he holstered in the main slot.

Ooh, that sounds awesome.

Self adjusting and adaptive the way his Alternator Cannon was.  Except he’d gotten frustrated at a snag in the testing, put it down to take a break and hadn’t picked it up again in six days.

Relatable.

Also I still like the name Tiro Finale better than Alternator Cannon. 😉

His hoverboard had effectively been destroyed for no reason, when it might have made the difference in getting the Travelers into custody.

What a shame. 😦