Location: Near Verize Islands – The Oki Mariner
Date: Monday | 08:00 PM | One Month After
CHUG-CHUG-CHUG-CHUG.
The Oki Mariner sat deep in the dark swell of the Pacific, its primary diesel engines idling in a low, satisfied thrum that vibrated through the steel of the main deck.
Strings of yellow work-lights were draped across the crane arms, casting a warm glow over the crew.
High above, the signal flags for 'Victory' and 'Safe Passage' snapped violently in the salt-heavy wind.
The smell of charred sea bass and citrus-marinated squid wafted from a portable grill set up near the RHIB cradles.
It was a stark contrast to the usual scent of industrial grease and wet iron.
On the bridge's main console, under the glow of a single overhead lamp, sat two documents that had changed the trajectory of the agency forever.
National Rank: 23.
Below that, a separate sheet of heavy parchment bore a gold-embossed seal that hadn't been seen on a Japanese hero vessel in decades: International Maritime Organization (IMO) - Global SAR Certification.
CLINK. CLINK.
Mick stood on top of a reinforced equipment crate, holding a tin cup high.
His face, usually etched with the permanent scowl of a stressed officer, was flushed and grinning.
"Listen up, you barnacles!" Mick shouted, his voice carrying over the wind. "Three months ago, this ship was a floating charity ward! We were dragging the reef for lost anchors and praying the HPSC didn't cut our diesel budget! Today, we're the first agency in this country that can officially tell the Coast Guard to move aside in international waters!"
"TO THE ADMIRAL!" the crew roared in unison.
"And to the guy who kept telling us our paperwork was garbage!" Takumi shouted from the edge of the crowd, raising his own cup.
The recruits erupted in laughter. Takumi, who had been a shaky amateur ninety days ago, now stood with his chest out, his thermal suit worn with the ease of a veteran.
He was huddled with his squad, showing them the digitized forensic logs from the Innsmouth bust on a tablet.
They weren't just divers anymore; they were technicians of the deep.
Sirius leaned against the bulkhead near the bridge door, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as she watched the celebration.
She noticed Kaito standing near the starboard railing, away from the center of the noise. He was staring out at the black horizon, his storm coat zipped to the chin.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
The deck plates groaned as Selkie walked through the crowd.
His massive frame seemed to double in size under the party lights, his captain's coat spotless and crisp.
He didn't stop to grab a drink. He walked straight toward the railing.
Without a single word of warning, Selkie reached out. His massive, webbed hands moved like a pincer.
WHUMP.
Kaito felt the air leave his lungs as Selkie pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.
The Captain lifted the manager clean off the deck, squeezing with the raw, terrifying strength of a man who spent his life wrestling rogue currents.
"Put him down, Captain! You're going to snap the manager in half!" Sirius laughed, stepping forward to swat at Selkie's arm. "We still need him to sign the final handover logs!"
"Hahaha, sorry about that! I'm just happy."
Selkie let out a booming, rumbling laugh and set Kaito back on his boots.
He kept his hands on Kaito's shoulders, his dark eyes shimmering with an intensity that went beyond simple professional thanks.
"Rank 23," Selkie rumbled, his voice vibrating in Kaito's chest. "The IMO cert. We've got a patrol scheduled for the I-Island shipping lanes next week, Arisaka. International territory. They didn't even ask for a supervisor. They just saw the seal on our hull and said 'Proceed, Mariner'."
Kaito adjusted his glasses, and replied. "I didn't sail the ship through the Verize storms, Captain. You and the crew implemented the protocols. The certification is just a recognition of the work you were already doing."
"No," Selkie corrected him, his tone turning serious.
He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a small, heavy velvet case. He pressed it into Kaito's hand. "We were drowning in our own problems. You gave us the lens to see through it. You gave these kids a reason to stand straight."
Kaito opened the case. Inside was a polished silver badge, shaped like a stylized anchor entwined with the Oki Mariner's crest.
It was engraved: Honorary Officer - Kaito Arisaka.
"You're a civilian again starting tomorrow at 00:00," Selkie said. "But you're a part of this hull now. If you ever find yourself looking for the horizon, this deck is yours."
Kaito looked at the silver badge. He didn't offer a sentimental speech. He simply tucked the case into his inner pocket and gave a sharp, iron-clad nod.
"Keep the Silent Command processors calibrated, Captain," Kaito said. "If the forensic recovery rates drop by even three percent while you're in I-Island waters, I'll be sending a very unpleasant audit report to the IMO."
"He's already threatening us and he hasn't even stepped off the gangplank yet!" Mick shouted from his crate, prompting a fresh wave of cheers and whistles from the recruits.
WHISTLE.
The Mariner's heavy foghorn let out a long, booming blast that rolled across the dark Pacific.
It was the signal for the end of the shift, the end of the contract, and the start of something much larger.
As the crew went back to their fish and their stories, Kaito looked back at the bridge one last time.
The ship felt alive—not like a machine, but like a predator that finally knew how to hunt.
He turned toward the ladder, his mind already shifting away from the salt and the steel, moving toward the neon lights of Tokyo and the "Pulse Concert" that was waiting for him.
_-_-_-_-_-_
Location: Shizuoka – The Arisaka Home
Date: Wednesday | 10:00 AM
CREAK.
The heavy wooden gate of the Arisaka home swung open.
Kaito walked up the stone path, breathing in the scent of cedar and blooming azaleas.
There was no salt in the air here, just the quiet, grounded smell of his hometown.
He walked up to the porch and stopped.
SLIDE.
The front door moved aside before he could even knock.
Grandma Saki stood there, wearing a warm, knitted shawl. She didn't look at him with a critical eye this time.
Instead, her face broke into a wide, genuine smile that made the lines around her eyes crinkle with joy.
"Welcome home, Kaito," she said. Her voice was soft and full of warmth.
She stepped forward and pulled him into a brief, tight hug.
Kaito froze for a second before relaxing, resting his hand on her shoulder.
"I'm back, Grandma," Kaito said.
"I saw everything on the news," Saki said, ushering him into the hallway. "The Oki Mariner... Rank 23. You did so much for those people, Kaito. I'm very proud of you. Come in, the tea is already brewed."
They sat in the living room, the sunlight streaming through the windows.
The house felt peaceful. Saki poured the tea, her hands steady.
"I'm taking a break from contract work for a while," Kaito explained, taking a sip of the warm tea. "My friends in Naruhata—the O'Clock Agency—they're putting on a massive concert at the Sky Egg. I've volunteered to help them get everything ready."
"Volunteer? That's my boy," Saki nodded, her eyes twinkling. "It'll be good to see Koichi, Kazuho, and the others again. They were such a lively group when I visited last time. How is that girl, Makoto? Still as sharp as a needle?"
"She's doing well. They all are," Kaito replied. "I want you to stay with me in Naruhata for a few weeks. I want you to see what we've been working on. I've missed having you around."
Saki reached across the table and patted his hand. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Seeing you actually doing something for your friends without a contract involved... it makes me happy, Kaito. I'll get my things ready."
_-_-_-_-_-_
Location: Shizuoka – Kimiko's House
Date: Wednesday | 02:00 PM
KNOCK. KNOCK.
Kaito stood on the doorstep of the modern two-story house.
He was holding a bag of gifts—high-quality tea cakes and a small, soft stuffed animal he'd found.
hehehe.
He heard laughter from inside before the door even opened.
Kenji, Kimiko's husband, pulled the door back and beamed at him.
"Kaito! Good to see you, man!" Kenji said, giving him a firm handshake. "Come in, come in! We were just wondering when you'd show up."
Kaito walked into the bright living room. Kimiko was sitting on the sofa, and in her arms was a baby girl who was very much awake.
She wasn't a tiny newborn anymore; she was about five months old, with chubby cheeks and big, curious eyes that locked onto Kaito immediately.
"Look who it is, Emi! It's your Uncle Kaito," Kimiko said, standing up. She looked healthy and happy, the exhaustion of the early months having faded.
"She's grown so much," Kaito said, his voice softening. He walked over, and Kimiko carefully transferred the baby into his arms.
COOO.
Emi let out a tiny, happy sound and reached up, grabbing Kaito's glasses with a surprisingly strong grip.
Kaito laughed softly, adjusting his head so she wouldn't pull them off. He sat down with her, letting the baby settle in his lap.
"We're so sorry we couldn't see you more while you were out at sea," Kenji said, sitting in the armchair across from them. "But we watched every update. That maritime certification was huge. You really turned that ship around."
"It was hard work, but the crew did most of it," Kaito replied, smiling down at Emi as she poked at his shirt buttons. "I'm just glad to be back on land for a bit."
They spent the next hour talking—truly talking. No business, no schedules.
They talked about the baby's first milestones, Kenji's work, and the stories from the Oki Mariner. Kaito felt more like himself than he had in months.
"I have something for you," Kaito said eventually. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two gold-trimmed VIP tickets. "I want you both there. At the Sky Egg. It's going to be the biggest event in Tokyo, and I want my family and friends to have the best seats in the house."
Kimiko took the tickets, her eyes widening. "Kaito, these are incredible! Are you sure? We don't want to be a bother with the baby."
"Not a chance," Kaito said firmly. "I've already made sure the VIP section is set up for families. I want Emi to hear the music. I want you two to see what we've built together."
Kenji grinned. "Then we're definitely going. Thanks, Kaito. It's good to have you back."
Kaito looked down at Emi, who had fallen asleep against his chest. He felt a deep sense of peace.
The maritime ranks and the contracts were behind him for now. He was exactly where he needed to be.
_-_-_-_-_-_
Location: Tokyo Sky Egg – Command Hub
Date: Thursday | 10:00 AM | 5 Days to Launch
TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP.
The sound of Kaito's fingers hitting the mechanical keyboard was the only constant in the high-tech silence of the Command Hub.
Outside the massive glass walls, the Sky Egg was a boiling cauldron of activity.
From this height, the stadium floor looked like a circuit board being assembled in real-time.
HMMM.
The low hum of the server racks behind them provided a backdrop to the chaos.
Below, the Mad Hatters were sound-checking their instruments. Tetsu, the lead singer, was arguing with a stagehand about the positioning of his pedalboard.
"Rapt! Get the cabling on the left ego riser tucked in! If anyone trips during the transition, the whole flow breaks!" Makoto called out, not looking up from her dual-monitor setup.
Her desk was a graveyard of empty coffee cups and colored sticky notes.
"I'm on it, Makoto-san!" Rapt shouted back from the stage floor, his voice echoing through the empty 100,000-seat arena.
Kaito didn't look down. He was staring at a 3D schematic of the sound stage.
"The audio bleed from the Saint Lila Academy choir is still hitting the drum mics," Kaito said, his voice flat. "If we don't isolate the vocal range on the overheads, Soga's kick drum is going to drown out the sopranos. Adjust the gate on channel forty-two."
Makoto tapped a series of commands. "Adjusted. But Kaito, the Detnerat engineers are asking about the power draw for the amber-wash lights. They say it's exceeding the standard safety margins for the ego risers."
"Tell them to reroute the secondary cooling fans to the floor vents," Kaito replied. "The risers need to glow, not just be lit. I want the performers to look like they're standing on liquid light, not a stage."
Brrrrt. Brrrrrt.
Three phones on the desk rattled simultaneously.
Kaito picked up the middle one without breaking his rhythm on the keyboard.
"No," Kaito said into the headset. "I don't care if your shipping company is the largest in Shizuoka. The O'Clock Agency is not looking for 'logistics partners.' We have our own. Do not call this line again."
CLICK.
He tossed the phone back onto the desk.
"That's the tenth blue-collar firm this morning that calling my phone," Makoto muttered, rubbing her temples. "Why are they so desperate to get in on a music festival?"
"Because they see the Ranks, Makoto. Rank 10 isn't just a number; it's a stamp of competence. They want the 'Standard' to rub off on their messy ledgers," Kaito said.
CLATTER.
The doors to the hub swung open. Present Mic, Midnight, Ms. Joke, and Uwabami filed in. They looked like they had been through a war.
Mic's hair was slightly wilted, and Uwabami was aggressively fan-cooling her face with a silk handkerchief.
"Kaito, babe, we need to talk about the acoustics," Midnight sighed, dropping onto a leather sofa. "I love the scale, but I feel like I'm shouting into a void. It's not very... alluring to have to shriek just to be heard."
"I LIKE THE VOID!" Present Mic boomed, though he immediately winced and took a sip from a steaming thermos. "The delay is three seconds! I can have a conversation with myself! But the tech booth keeps muting my highs!"
"That's because you're peaking the soundboard, Mic," Ms. Joke said, leaning against the glass wall and looking down at the FeatherHATS practicing their aerial silk routine. "Miu and Yu look like they're about to fall every time you hit a high note. It's funny, but maybe not '100,000 people' funny."
"It's the lighting!" Uwabami interrupted, her snakes hissing in annoyance. "Kaito, the LED glare from the main screen is washing out my skin tone. I look like a fluorescent bulb. I requested a warm amber wash for the fashion segment walkthrough."
Kaito finally turned his chair around. He adjusted his glasses, his gaze sweeping over the four pro heroes.
"The lighting is calibrated for high-motion visibility, Uwabami. It highlights the dancers' muscles and the singers' expressions. It isn't a vanity shoot," Kaito said. "Mic, stop shouting at the rafters. Trust the IEMs. We spent a fortune on those custom-molded in-ears so you could hear your own whisper over a jet engine. Use them."
"And the break?" Ms. Joke asked, her usual grin replaced by a look of genuine fatigue. "My jaw is actually locking up from the 'Host Energy' training."
"You get a break when the transition from the Mad Hatters to Pop★Step is under two minutes and thirty seconds," Kaito said. "Right now, your stagehands are taking four minutes to clear the drum kit. That's a gap. A gap is where the audience loses interest. Close the gap, then you can rest."
The room went quiet. The weight of the expectations was physical.
Kaito leaned forward, the light from the monitors reflecting off his lenses. "If this opening night goes perfectly—if the timing is surgical and the energy stays at the peak—I might consider taking a contract with one of your agencies next."
The silence changed. It went from heavy to electric.
The four heroes stared at him. The idea of the 'Golden Manager' bringing this level of organization to their own agencies was the ultimate career boost.
"Well!" Present Mic shouted, slamming his thermos shut.
BANG.
"Midnight, Joke, Uwabami! Back to the pit! We have a gap to kill!"
STOMP. STOMP. STOMP.
They practically sprinted out of the hub.
Makoto watched them go, then looked at Kaito with a flat expression. "You're a monster, you know that? You just gave them enough adrenaline to run for three days straight."
"I didn't give them anything," Kaito said, turning back to the sound schematic. "I just showed them the value of their own time. Now, check the telemetry on the ego risers again. I want to make sure the pyrotechnics won't blind the front row."
WHIRRR.
Kaito's chair spun back toward the screens. The audit continued.
_-_-_-_-_-_
Location: Tokyo – Sato News Network (SNN) Studio Date: Friday | 06:00 PM
STATIC. HUMMM.
The air in the SNN main studio was hot and smelled like dry electricity.
In the center of the blinding white spotlights, Hideki Sato sat behind a glass anchor desk.
He smoothed the front of his suit, his face reflecting in the polished surface.
Off-camera, a producer held up three fingers, counting down the silence.
CLICK.
The red "ON AIR" light flared. Hideki's expression sharpened instantly. He leaned into the lens with the confidence of a man who owned the night's biggest story.
"Good evening, Japan. I'm Hideki Sato," he said, his voice resonant and commanding.
Behind him, the screen displayed a live-feed drone shot of the Sky Egg. "We are less than ninety-six hours away from the Pulse. The ticket waitlists have officially crashed three separate servers today. Sources within the O'Clock Agency confirm that security is being handled by a coalition of top-tier professionals. This isn't just a performance; it's a demonstration of what happens when the best in the business come together for the people."
_-_-_-_-_
Location: Yaoyorozu Estate – Private Study
BEEP.
The massive wall-mounted television in the study displayed Hideki's broadcast.
A young Momo Yaoyorozu sat at her desk, surrounded by advanced physics textbooks. She watched the screen with a look of intense focus.
"Father?" Momo asked, her voice refined and polite.
Her father looked up from his tablet, a small smile appearing on his face. "Yes, Momo? Is it about the concert?"
"May we attend?" Momo said, her eyes bright.
Momo's mother stepped into the room, holding a printed itinerary. "Darling, your father and I handled that a month ago. We've secured the center-tier VIP box. We thought it would be a fitting reward for your recent academic scores."
Momo stood up, offering a graceful, deep bow. "Thank you so much! I shall prepare immediately. I also want to see how they manage such a vast crowd without losing focus on the details."
_-_-_-_-_
Location: Hado Residence – Nejire's Bedroom
WHOOSH.
Nejire Hado was floating three feet off her bed, her hair swirling around her as she spun in mid-air.
She was holding her smartphone, staring at a digital ticket with a look of pure wonder.
"Mom! Look at the screens!" Nejire shouted, her voice a high-speed blur of excitement.
"The lights! They say they're using Detnerat's new LED arrays! Do they glow because of the voltage or a chemical reaction? Why is the stage shaped like an egg? Is it a metaphor for rebirth or just aerodynamic?!"
Her mother leaned against the doorframe, laughing as she held up a shopping bag. "I don't know the answers to those, Nejire. But you need to stay on the ground long enough to try this on. We're going to the boutique tomorrow to find a proper outfit for the opening night."
Nejire dived for the bag, her hands moving fast. "I've been saving my allowance for this since the announcement! I want something that glows! It has to match the energy of the Pulse! Please, can we get the one with the reactive fibers?!"
_-_-_-_-_
Location: Local Library – Study Corner
RUSTLE.
In the back of the quiet library, Mirio Togata was practically vibrating in his chair.
He shoved his phone toward Tamaki Amajiki, nearly hitting his friend in the nose.
"I got them, Tamaki!" Mirio whispered, his grin so wide it looked painful. "I didn't sleep, I didn't eat, I just kept refreshing the site until the 'Success' window popped up! Two tickets!"
Tamaki looked at the screen and immediately began to shake. He pulled his hood over his face until only his eyes were visible. "Mirio... it's going to be so loud. A hundred thousand people... that's a hundred thousand eyes. I'll just turn into a potato. I can't do it."
"No way!" Mirio laughed, clapping Tamaki on the back. "You're going to be a Hero, buddy! And where do the best Heroes go to school?"
Tamaki looked up, his voice small. "UA High... where All Might went."
"Exactly!" Mirio shouted, before catching himself and lowering his voice. "That's the alma mater of the Symbol of Peace! And if he's going to be at this concert, then that's where we belong! We're going to be there to see him and Captain Celebrity! We're going to see the future of the Hero world right in front of us!"
Tamaki looked at the glowing image of the Sky Egg on the phone. He took a shaky breath and nodded. "If... if you're sure we won't be crushed by the crowd."
"I'll be your shield!" Mirio promised, his eyes burning with determination. "This is the start of it all, Tamaki! The New Era!"
_-_-_-_-_-_
Location: Tokyo Sky Egg – Backstage & Main Arena
Date: Saturday | 06:30 PM
"OOOOHHHHHH!".
The sound hitting the stadium walls wasn't just noise; it was a physical blow.
One hundred thousand people were chanting in a synchronized rhythm that made the concrete floors of the Sky Egg vibrate like a drumhead.
The air inside the arena was thick and heavy—a mix of expensive perfume, and the localized heat of a massive, expectant crowd.
In the VIP box, high above the frantic movement of the floor, Kaito's grandmother sat at the edge of her seat.
Her hands gripped the railing tight, her eyes wide as she scanned the sea of glowing "Pulse" sticks that turned the dark stadium into a shifting galaxy of amber light.
Beside her, Kimiko was laughing, leaning close to Kenji to be heard over the thunderous atmosphere.
She held the baby, Emi, who was tucked into a high-end carrier. The infant was fast asleep, her tiny face peaceful behind the sleek, noise-canceling headphones Kaito had personally picked out.
"It's like the whole city is breathing at once!" Kimiko shouted, her face bright with a joy she hadn't felt in years.
"It's more than breathing!" Grandma Saki yelled back, a rare, sharp grin on her face. "It's a riot with a heartbeat! I never thought I'd see the day Kaito put something like this together!"
Backstage – The Green Room
CLATTER. THUD.
The backstage area was a hive of high-speed movement. Roadies in black uniforms sprinted past, carrying spare cables and heavy guitar racks.
Kazuho stood in front of a massive, illuminated mirror. She wasn't wearing the frilly, lace-heavy idol clothes of her past.
She was draped in a sleek, armored performance suit—matte black plates over a deep indigo fabric that caught the light like oil on water. It looked like hero gear, but designed for the stage.
She picked up a small porcelain cup, sipping her warm throat-tea. Her fingers were trembling, the porcelain clicking softly against her teeth.
Beside her, Tamao was strapped into her own gear, her matte-black electric guitar slung over her shoulder.
She was checking the tuning pegs one last time, her expression fierce and focused.
"Koichi, if you trip on that cape during the bridge, I'm going to kick you off the riser," Tamao said, though her smirk was visible in the mirror's reflection.
"I won't trip! Kaito made me practice the landing fifty times!" Koichi yelped, adjusting his O'Clock Guard uniform.
Koichi, Soga, Rapt, and Moyuru were standing in the center of the room.
They had abandoned their street clothes for the new O'Clock Guard uniforms—high-tensile fabrics with reinforced padding and silver accents.
They didn't look like the ragtag group from the Naruhata slums anymore. They looked like a professional unit ready to take the world.
"We just saw the drone feed," Koichi said, his voice shaky but excited. "The line for the merch booth still goes around the block. They're calling for us, Kazuho."
Soga was spinning his drumsticks so fast they were a blur, his eyes fixed on the door. "My heart is hitting 140 beats a minute and the song hasn't even started. I'm ready to break these cymbals."
CREAAK.
The door creaked open. Kaito walked in.
He had ditched his headset for a moment, his black jacket open.
"The technical checks are finished," Kaito said. His voice was normal, cutting through the muffled roar of the crowd outside.
He walked up to Kazuho and looked her in the eye.
"Forget the rankings," Kaito said, his voice dropping to a low, intense rumble. "Forget the months of training. When you walk through those curtains. There are no heroes. There is only you and the people who came to hear you."
He paused, a faint, genuine smirk touching his lips.
"Go out there and make them feel alive."
Kazuho took a final, deep breath.
She set the tea cup down on the table. Her hands stopped shaking.
"Oooohhhh!"
_-_-_-_-_-_
The Stage Wing
SWISH.
The heavy black velvet curtain was pulled back by the stage manager.
He held up five fingers, counting down in total silence.
Kaito stepped back into the deep shadows of the wing, leaning against a support beam.
He watched as Kazuho and the boys took their positions on the massive hydraulic lift beneath the stage floor.
CLICK.
The "House Music"—the background tracks that had been playing for the last hour—suddenly cut out.
The stadium went dead silent. It was a vacuum of sound, 100,000 people holding their breath at the exact same second.
THUMP.
Every single light in the Sky Egg went pitch black.
For a heartbeat, the stadium didn't just go dark; it went silent. The collective intake of breath from a hundred thousand people was a vacuum that sucked the air out of the stage
The roar that followed was a physical explosion. It was a scream of pure, unadulterated joy that felt like it was going to burst the glass ribs of the stadium ceiling.
VROOOOM.
The massive LED screens behind the stage flared to life.
They showed a high-speed montage: The rain-slicked wings of Naruhata. The white-capped waves of the Pacific. The sunrise over the Nagano mountains.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
A synchronized series of gold-and-silver pyrotechnic bursts shot up from the stage floor, the heat from the explosions reaching all the way to the back rows.
From the center of the stage, the lift rose through a thick, swirling cloud of white stage-smoke.
Present Mic was at the front, his tall hair glowing under a single, blinding white spotlight.
He threw his arms wide, his leather jacket shimmering.
Behind him, Midnight, Ms. Joke, and Uwabami stood in a perfect, razor-sharp diamond formation, their eyes fixed on the crowd.
"TOKYO!" Mic's voice erupted through the stadium, hitting the crowd with enough force to shake the air in their lungs. "ARE YOU READY?!"
"YEEEEEEAAAAAH!"
"TONIGHT, THE PULSE IS YOURS!" Mic roared, his grin splitting his face.
"WELCOME... TO THE GRAND O'CLOCK PULSE!"
The hosts surged forward, Midnight and Uwabami hitting the small platforms at the front of the stage to engage the fans in the front row.
The energy was electric, a soaring high that made the stadium feel like it was finally awake.
Kaito stood in the darkness of the wings, his arms crossed. He watched the host panel ignite the arena. The timing was exact. The crowd was theirs.
The Grand Concert was live.
_-_-_-_-_
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(9 Advanced Chapters)