People would definitely get it wrong if, technically speaking, the reserve hero organization worked entirely as assassins.
Let me make this clear. I built that organization based on what should happen, and on what was actually needed.
The reserve hero organization was created to be part of heroism, but not in any conventional interpretation of what a hero is supposed to be.
Instead, I chose to operate behind the scenes and work for the darkness. This is not because I side with any left-wing narrative. I chose it because, personally, everything runs more smoothly when you play the reserve role, not the one standing on center stage.
I truly despise those who claim to be just and wise, yet are anything but in reality. That hypocrisy hurts the most for those who live underneath it.
Back when I was Hachigaya Akagami, I was just an ordinary teenage boy who dreamed of eradicating evil from the shadows. Not because it sounded cool or anything like that, but because the system genuinely needed it.
Take the police officers who carry guns in their pockets. Do you think they would dare to shoot a murderer in the middle of a public space? Of course not. They need further instructions before pulling the trigger, approval from the center. At the very least, they will choose other options instead of eliminating the criminal on the spot.
Most of the time, the option chosen is outdated negotiation.
It takes too long. And it erodes the sanity of real human beings, especially those who become hostages to criminals. That is precisely why reserve heroes who work in the darkness are necessary.
I am not telling a fairy tale, nor am I writing some literary piece about life. This is real, and it happened to me.
I studied many forms of martial arts and physical conditioning. Sword techniques with a samurai blade, barehanded combat such as karate, judo, sumo, Muay Thai, silat, and others. I also mastered physical conditioning methods like yoga, sprinting, swimming like a mermaid from a fairy tale, and so on.
I did all of that starting at the age of eight, purely driven by desire. By the time I reached seventeen, during my final year of school, everything could be used, even if it ended in failure.
Especially when I saw the muzzle hole releasing faint gray smoke after being fired. An AK-47 type weapon, used by a group of terrorists. They killed at least four civilians inside a convenience store.
By coincidence, I was there. On my way home from school, I was buying healthy diet food. Or at least, that was the plan. That dream ended instantly the moment I witnessed the terrorists.
There were around four of them operating inside. Each wore cute circus clown masks, adorable in appearance but horrifying in attitude. They pointed their firearms at people who begged to stay alive, just to see a brighter future.
At that time, I could only stand still at first. But before the police sirens arrived as the heroes of the world, I was already confronted by the criminals. In response, I fought barehanded, using the skills I had sharpened.
This bastard was fairly weak. He passed out when I punched him hard in the stomach, moving with agility similar to a Muay Thai fighter.
Naturally, once one went down, it drew the attention of the remaining three bastards. They shouted loudly, "Damn it! Brat!" aiming at me. "Shoot!!" In an instant, the sound of scorching bullets filled the room, shattering the screams of those frozen in fear.
I was scared too. But I had many skills. I ran with a certain agility, still within the limits of a normal human, and took cover however I could.
…But God seemed to have other plans.
Well, maybe that is just how it is.
When the police finally arrived, all they could do was stand there, guns raised in shooting posture, yet hesitant.
In the end, I was shot by those three clown bastards. I slipped on slime. No, apparently it was jelly sold at an expensive price. Squishy, and spilled everywhere.
At that moment, I thought of one thing essential for a reserve hero. That thing was magic. Strangely enough, even in that condition, I was still conscious and sane. If firearms and bladed weapons are forbidden for civilians, then why is magic not allowed? That was the stupid question.
Nonsense.
Completely useless.
Empty, like facing a middle-aged man who can fly using nothing but a teaspoon.
Maybe someday, magic will become another alternative for self-defense.
▼▼
When I woke up from the previous darkness, I found myself already lying inside a special, luxurious room. Two people, a man and a woman, were standing right in front of my face.
They were so close that they looked like giants from ancient mythology.
Behind their smiles, which seemed happy for reasons I did not yet understand, there was something else. A black mass, melting and floating behind the two of them.
Did they not notice it? Maybe not.
It looked like slime, but at the same time it resembled asphalt while still in its dough-like state.
At times, that black mass seemed to be trying to say something to me. Yet I could not understand it, nor could I even tell whether it was a living being. It was a strange thing.
Only a year later did I finally realize what it was.
First of all, based on fragmented information recovered from old memories, it appeared that I had been reincarnated into a strange new world. Here, my name was Feei Gearth, born into a well-established noble family that specialized in assassins.
Yes. You did not hear that wrong. This family was, at its core, an assassin family. However, that was in the past, something that could now be described as nothing more than family history. In the present, my father, Fouk, was merely a businessman working within the economic center of the region we lived in.
That is more or less the situation.
I only finished analyzing and fully understanding it all when I turned four. At that age, the black mass that used to appear so often suddenly returned, this time with a voice. It spoke to me clearly.
The incident happened in a training garden.
I was practicing physical conditioning, following what I had mastered in my previous world.
"Feei Gearth, you have reached the appropriate age for your great mission. I know everything, and I will help make it come true…."
That was what it said.
It pronounced my name properly, far better than a child whose lips had yet to master speech.
"A mission?"
I asked, placing both hands on my hips.
"Yes. You are indeed required by the ancient system." It paused briefly, as if thinking, then continued. "Ahhh, yes!! First of all, let me introduce myself. I am a god above gods. Do not misjudge me because of my appearance like this…."
"I understand. But if you are a god, what kind of god are you? For example, the god of wind, the sun, water, and so on."
"Excellent question, young one!!"
Suddenly, it burst into loud laughter right in front of me.
"I am the god of slime! I am the strongest! I can do anything! Anything you desire!"
As far as I knew, slimes were blue, or maybe green.
Weren't they the monsters found in dungeons? With the weakest rank in the monster hierarchy? That was the truth.
No. This was something different. It radiated heat. It was black. It spoke. And for some reason, it carried an overwhelming aura of power.
"That is enough. End your monologue. I will sleep within your body for a very long time. This time, you will obtain what you need, magic." It threw sarcasm at me while delivering crucial information, then began muttering silently, like someone chanting a spell.
Naturally, I did not understand.
But that was only an act.
"Huh? What is this? What are you doing?"
There was no answer.
I was completely ignored.
In the next moment, the mass suddenly entered my body. My chest felt tight, as if being crushed under extreme pressure. It was difficult to describe just how strange this body felt.
My heartbeat accelerated wildly. The veins that had been normal before now carried an unnaturally heavy flow of blood with every second.
There was no burning sensation or anything that would make me scream in pain.
No, that was not it. More accurately, perhaps it hurt too much. So much so that I passed out instantly, without feeling anything at all.
That loss of consciousness reminded me of the atmosphere of dusk in my grandmother's hometown. When I was little, we used to wait for the sun to go home and rest, only to be replaced by the absolute darkness known as night.
I was running through a vast field of grass. With the light of the full moon above, I chased fireflies flying everywhere in the silence.
To me, they were the same as the concept of reserve heroes. Even if they were not as bright as the moon to illuminate the darkness, they could still light up something they truly believed in.
Perhaps, to even smaller creatures, the light of a firefly would be more than enough to see the world clearly.