In City A, surrounded by towering skyscrapers, a massive monolithic structure stood like an immovable pillar.
This was the core of professional hero activity and the backbone of urban defense, the Hero Association Headquarters.
Inside a high level conference room, a brown haired executive in a tailored suit placed his phone onto a circular holographic projection table. Blue light shimmered as layered reports materialized midair.
"We will now begin reviewing investigation reports from various cities," he announced.
"First, City Q. Handled by S Class hero Watchdog Man. Report states no abnormalities."
A bald, pot bellied executive frowned. "No abnormalities? That's all he submitted?"
"City Q consistently ranks among the highest in both disaster frequency and monster threat levels."
The brown haired man adjusted his glasses. "His meaning is that with him stationed there, nothing escalates."
Despite his limited patrol area, Watchdog Man's elimination record remained efficient.
The bald executive muttered, "S Class reports are always this brief."
The projection shifted.
"Next, City Z. Disaster level Dragon, meteor strike. B Class rookie Sol Mirek intervened."
The room quieted.
"Based on multiple eyewitness accounts, Sol demonstrated Psychokinesis. Comparable in nature to S Class Rank 2 Tatsumaki and B Class Rank 1 Fubuki."
He tapped the table lightly.
"His output is below Tornado's level but exceeds Hellish Blizzard's. He redirected the majority of meteor fragments, significantly reducing structural devastation."
A murmur spread across the room.
"I recommend promoting Sol Mirek to A Class Rank 39."
He paused briefly.
"As for Saitama, who destroyed the meteor core, public opinion suggests he took credit from others. Proposal, promote him to C Class Rank 5 for now."
No objections followed.
"Moving to the next agenda."
…
Meanwhile, at Bang's dojo in City Z, Sol stood outside the entrance, rolling his shoulders.
Psychokinesis flowed through him smoothly now, steady and powerful. The pain from his earlier overexertion had faded, replaced by a controlled intensity.
After discharge, he had come here with the address Genos had written down.
The strain had nearly broken him, but the result was undeniable. His current output surpassed Fubuki's by a wide margin. Still nowhere near Tatsumaki's, but more than sufficient.
Ignoring the curious stare from Charanko inside the dojo, Sol walked into the courtyard.
"You've arrived," Bang said calmly. Dressed in a white training uniform, he sat cross legged in meditation.
Sol bowed respectfully. "Mr. Silver Fang."
"Have you decided?" Bang opened his eyes. "Will you learn Water Smashing Fist?"
"I will."
Bang stroked his beard, pleased. "Training begins with fundamentals. You will arrive at five every morning and train alongside the senior students."
Sol clasped his hands lightly. "I would prefer to learn Water Smashing Fist directly."
Bang raised an eyebrow. "Martial arts require steady progression."
Sol shifted into a stance.
His posture appeared relaxed, almost careless, yet something within it carried weight, a quiet intent hidden beneath simplicity.
Bang's expression sharpened instantly.
Within Sol's casual positioning was a philosophy unfamiliar to him, a sense of minimalism refined to its essence.
So young, yet already carrying his own martial concept?
Bang rose slowly.
"Did you create this yourself?"
"Something like that," Sol replied. "You could say I learned it in a different world."
Bang laughed heartily. "Youthful imagination."
Sol only smiled.
"Show me what you can do," Bang said, voice firm.
Sol inhaled deeply. His muscles coiled. His playful expression faded, replaced by sharp focus.
"Please guide me."
In the next instant, he disappeared from sight.
Bang's pupils contracted.
Sol's fist shot forward.
Bang caught it cleanly, but the force pushed him back two shallow marks across the wooden floor.
"Impressive explosiveness," Bang remarked.
Then his arm flowed around Sol's like water, redirecting the force effortlessly. A soft yet overwhelming countercurrent surged back toward Sol.
Sol reacted instantly, dissipating the incoming force with precise control.
Bang's eyes gleamed with surprise.
This was not the reaction speed of a beginner.
Sol's physical aptitude and martial instinct far exceeded expectations.
Bang adjusted his breathing. His hands traced elegant arcs.
"Your talent is remarkable," he said steadily. "But martial arts extend beyond raw instinct."
Sol bowed slightly, muscles taut. His combat intuition mapped every subtle shift in Bang's breathing.
The rhythm changed.
Sol stepped back half a pace.
Bang's fist came forward like a crashing waterfall.
Sol crossed his arms to block. The impact forced him back several meters. The wooden floor creaked under pressure.
Such refined power, even in restraint.
Sol pivoted sharply, sweeping his leg low toward Bang's stance.
Bang tapped the floor lightly and rose, weightless as a feather, avoiding the strike without strain.
"Water Smashing Fist is about overcoming hardness with softness," Bang said midair, rotating smoothly.
"Watch carefully."
Bang's next strike seemed unhurried, yet it reached Sol in an instant.
Sol barely turned his head. The wind from the punch grazed his cheek.