Location: Naruhata Ward – O'Clock Agency
Date: Tuesday | 02:00 AM (72 Hours Post-Incident)
BRRR-RING. BRRR-RING.
CLICK.
"O'Clock Agency. No, O'Clock is not taking calls from the press. If you're calling about the Sky Egg medical reimbursements, go to the website. The link is in the bio. Yes. Goodbye."
SLAM.
Makoto Tsukauchi dropped the phone back onto its base with a heavy plastic thud.
She didn't pull her hand away immediately; she just let it rest there, her fingers trembling slightly from caffeine and lack of sleep.
Her yellow beanie was shoved back, revealing messy hair and a forehead slick with sweat.
The dark circles under her eyes were deep, purple, and heavy.
Behind her, the desk was buried. It wasn't just paper; it was a graveyard of coffee cups, crumpled bento wrappers, and thick legal binders.
The last seventy-two hours had been a relentless grind.
Little sleep. No breaks. Just a constant stream of voices on the other end of the line demanding money, answers, or a quote.
TAP. TAP. TAP-TAP-TAP.
In the center of the garage, Koichi Haimawari sat on a stool that squeaked every time he shifted his weight.
A single laptop screen illuminated his face, making his skin look ghostly. He was staring at a spreadsheet of ten thousand names—ticket holders from the blue zones who were claiming "minor trauma."
"I can't tell if these names are duplicates or if the HPSC sent us the wrong file again," Koichi muttered.
His voice was flat, devoid of its usual cheer. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, pushing hard enough to see spots.
"My head is pulsing. Every time I close my eyes, I just see rows of numbers."
Kazuho was slumped in a beanbag chair nearby, a phone wedged between her ear and her shoulder.
She was holding a pen, but she hadn't written anything in twenty minutes.
"Listen," Kazuho said, her voice a raspy, irritated growl. "The lightning strike was a direct result of the villain attack. If Detnerat's insurance won't cover the stage equipment, then we have a problem. No. Don't put me on hold. If you put me on hold one more time, I'm—"
BEEP.
"He hung up."
Kazuho let the phone slip from her fingers. It hit the concrete floor with a dull clatter.
She leaned her head back against the wall, staring at the exposed rafters of the garage.
"I hate this so much," she whispered. "We were just there to sing. We were just there to help people enjoy a concert. Now I'm arguing with a suit about the cost of a blown-out subwoofer while people are still in the hospital."
CLOMP. CLOMP. CLOMP.
The heavy, rhythmic footsteps came from the back storage room. Iwao Oguro stepped into the light.
He looked terrible. His black t-shirt was stained with dirt, and a large, dark bruise was visible on his neck where a piece of debris had clipped him.
He was carrying a stack of folders so thick he had to use both arms.
"Stop whining and keep working," Iwao grunted.
THUD.
He dropped the folders onto Makoto's desk, sending a small cloud of dust and stray staples into the air.
"Those are the final waivers from the primary sponsors. Every hero agency that was on-site has signed off on the joint relief fund. Except for Endeavor. His lawyers are still fighting over the wording regarding 'assistance from unauthorized entities.'"
Iwao cracked his neck, the sound echoing in the quiet garage.
"Detnerat and Shoowaysha have already wired the first three billion yen. They're moving fast. They want this out of the news. They want everyone to talk about the 'generous donations' instead of the security breach that allowed a god-tier villain to hover over the stadium for ten minutes."
Makoto didn't look up from her screen. "They're not just paying for a cleanup, Iwao-san. They're buying the narrative. Have you seen the internet? People are calling Rikiya Yotsubashi a hero for funding the recovery. Meanwhile, the HPSC is getting shredded for being useless."
Koichi stopped typing. He turned his stool around, looking at the open garage door.
Outside, the rain was falling in a steady, grey sheet. Shinjuku was miles away, but it felt like the entire city was pressing down on this one small garage.
"We haven't even seen them," Koichi said softly.
_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Location: Detnerat Corporate Headquarters – The Penthouse Office
Date: Tuesday | 03:00 AM
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP-BASS.
The heavy, driving rhythm of a bass guitar shook the floor-to-ceiling glass windows.
Outside, the lights of Tokyo stretched out like a sprawling circuit board, but inside the office, the air was vibrating with the high-octane bridge of "New Type of Hero."
Rikiya Yotsubashi sat behind his massive obsidian desk.
His eyes were closed, his head tilted back, and his fingers were tapping a perfect, sharp beat against the polished stone.
He had tossed his suit jacket onto a nearby chair; his white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
The dark, jagged birthmark on his forehead was pulsing faintly.
CHIME.
The door slid open.
Miyashita, his personal secretary, stepped into the room. He was a man who took pride in being unremarkable—straightforward, impeccably dressed, and completely oblivious to the shadow world his boss inhabited.
He carried a digital tablet and stood a respectful distance away, waiting for the track to finish.
CLICK.
Rikiya hit a button on his desk, and the music cut out instantly. The silence that followed felt heavy and ringing.
"The resonance of that track... it is unlike anything on the market, Miyashita," Rikiya said.
His voice was a low rumble, thick with a strange kind of excitement. "It doesn't sound like a pop song."
"It's certainly popular, sir," Miyashita replied in his usual flat, professional tone. "It's currently the most streamed song in the world. Our partners at Shoowaysha are reporting that the demand for a physical release is causing a total meltdown in their servers."
Rikiya stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the city. "The Singularity. People throw that word around like a ghost story, but we saw it, didn't we?"
Miyashita nodded, though he looked a bit uncomfortable. "It was a very stressful event for the company, sir. Our primary concern now is the relief fund."
"The fund is fine. It's an investment," Rikiya dismissed him with a wave of his hand. He turned his head slightly toward a secondary terminal on his wall. "Wait in the lounge for a moment, Miyashita. I have a technical follow-up with the security consultants."
"Of course, sir."
Miyashita bowed and exited.
The moment the door clicked shut, a holographic display flickered to life over the desk.
The high-strung, distorted face of Skeptic appeared, his long black hair messy and his eyes bloodshot from staring at code for seventy-two hours straight.
"Tell me you have something, Tomoyasu," Rikiya demanded, his corporate mask dropping to reveal the fanatical leader underneath.
"I have a headache, Rikiya!" Skeptic snapped, his voice crackling through the speakers. "I've run the biometric data of all one hundred thousand attendees through every filter I own. I've cross-referenced heart rates, facial recognition, and even gait analysis against the footage of Hero X on that spire."
Skeptic slammed a hand onto his own desk on the other side of the link.
"Nothing! It's a total wash! We focused on the VIP boxes and the high-society sections just like you said. We even targeted that manager, Kaito Arisaka, because you had a hunch about him."
"And?" Rikiya leaned in.
"And he's a nobody!" Skeptic hissed. "I have high-definition footage of Arisaka in VIP Box 4-B during the entire incident. He was sitting there with his grandmother and a child. He was comforting them when the building tilted. He was caught on three different camera angles at the exact micro-second Hero X was busy shredding Nomus on the ground. The guy has no Quirk signature, no energy spikes, nothing. He's just a high-strung office worker with good posture."
Rikiya's jaw tightened.
He stared at a paused frame of Kaito Arisaka on the screen—a man in a charcoal-grey suit looking concerned for his family.
"Maybe a projection? An illusion?" Rikiya muttered.
"Not according to the HPSC's thermal sensors," Skeptic countered. "Those sensors don't lie. They didn't flag any clones or doubles in that box. Arisaka was exactly where he was supposed to be. Your 'God' is a master of hiding, or he isn't who you think he is."
SIGH.
Rikiya let out a long, frustrated sigh. The birthmark on his temple began to recede as he forced himself to calm down.
"Fine. If we cannot find the man, we will move the board pieces until he finds us. If the Singularity is walking among us, he will eventually need a platform that the HPSC cannot provide."
"Whatever. Just don't ask me to look at those heart-rate monitors again today," Skeptic grumbled, and the hologram vanished.
Rikiya stood in the dark for a moment, then pressed the intercom. "Miyashita. Come back in."
The secretary returned, his tablet ready.
"The board is worried about our transition into the Hero Support industry, sir," Miyashita said, picking up right where they left off. "They think the market is too crowded. They're afraid we can't compete with the established firms."
"Then we won't compete," Rikiya said, a sharp, predatory smile returning to his face. "We'll just make them look slow. We need a mind that understands the 'Standard' better than any engineer."
Rikiya sat back down and picked up a plain, unadorned business card from his desk. It was the card for Arisaka Consulting.
"Miyashita, prepare a contract. Not a standard employment agreement. I want to offer Kaito Arisaka a position as my Special Executive Consultant to the President."
Miyashita blinked, his pen hovering over his tablet. "Sir? He's a logistics manager. Our R&D team is composed of the best engineers in the country."
"Your engineers build tools, Miyashita. Arisaka builds legends," Rikiya said, his eyes gleaming. "Tell him he will have total autonomy. Tell him his budget will be whatever he says it needs to be. We are moving Detnerat from lifestyle support to the front lines of the Hero Support industry. If we want to lead the next era, we need the Golden Manager to build the foundation."
"I'll draft the offer immediately, sir," Miyashita replied, his voice back to its usual professional clip. "I assume you want the meeting scheduled for the end of the month?"
"As soon as possible," Rikiya said, turning his chair back toward the window. "I want to see if the man who made countless pro heroes change and suceedd can do the same for a corporation."
_-_-_-_-_-_
Location: Naruhata Ward – Kaito's Apartment
Date: Wednesday | 02:15 PM
HIIISSSS.
The kettle on the stove let out a long, dying breath as Kaito clicked the burner off.
The kitchen was dim, lit only by the small bulb over the sink.
He moved quietly, setting five mismatched ceramic cups onto a wooden tray.
In the living room, the vibe wasn't like a courtroom; it was more like a wake where no one knew who had died.
Koichi was sitting on his heels, staring intensely at a crack in the floorboard.
Kazuho was curled up, hugging her knees, looking like she wanted ask questions nut don't know which one.
Makoto had a notebook out, but she wasn't writing—she was just clicking her pen over and over.
Iwao was the only one standing, leaning his massive frame against the doorframe, watching Kaito with an unreadable expression.
Grandma Saki sat in her chair, her hands resting on her knees.
She looked at Kaito, then at the others, and just gave a small, tired sigh.
CLINK.
Kaito set the tray down. He handed the tea out, but nobody took a sip.
They just held the warm cups like anchors. Kaito sat down by the window, leaning his head back against the glass.
"You're all staring," Kaito said. His voice was flat, but not robotic—just exhausted. "Just ask. I'm not going to turn you into paper for asking a question."
"Kaito..." Koichi started. He cleared his throat and tried again. "We saw transformation to white-haired persona. We saw you defeat all those creature and fixed that building. We heard the 'Snap'. Were puzzled why did you told us you were a dud?"
"I didn't lie about it, Koichi," Kaito said, looking him in the eye. "When I was a kid, the doctor really confirmed that I have a quirk factor. I waited for years for it to appear but it didn't. Then everything changed during the Musurufsu fire disaster. My quirk just appeared. And Hero X was born that day."
Kazuho looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. "That disaster? I remember that, it was the time All Might finished his work in America and Hero X first appeared? But I don't understand what you mean by not emerging. A quirk is a quirk, Kaito. You either have one or you don't."
Kaito looked at his tea, watching the steam curl.
"Not this one," Kaito said. He held up his hand, and for a split second, the air around his fingers shimmered like a heat haze.
SNAP.
The sound was small, but it made everyone flinch.
A cup he was holding turned into a graffiti art on the table.
"I don't have a biological quirk," Kaito explained. "There's no 'power' in my DNA. I have a Conceptual Quirk. I call it Public Trust Value."
Makoto's pen stopped clicking. "Public Trust? Like... a group belief?"
"Exactly," Kaito said. He looked tired of the words already. "My reality is defined by what the majority of people believe I am. When I was born into this world, I can't use my quirk. Why? Because nobody expected a baby to be anything else. But overtime, people slowly started to trust me in my childhood. Those collective beliefs were fueling my first transformation until I was caught in the huge fire disaster years ago. My reality manipulation appeared and you know the rest. Hero X alter ego of mine.
Iwao crossed his arms, his brow furrowing deep. "So you're saying... if everyone thinks you're can do something or that someone, you become one?"
"Pretty much," Kaito said with a dry, bitter laugh. "That's the reason, why I know and can do things a normal person find hard to succeed. I know engineering because the public believe. I know surgery because the public believe I am a miracle doctor. I can fly because they believe it. Have super strength snd so on."
"That's unbelievable. How did this quirk even exists. You are literally a walking god at this point. Thankfully you are the one having this quirk. If a villain got it, the world probably going to end" Koichi voiced his surprise and worry.
"And Hero X?" Makoto continued.
"Hero X was just my transformation," Kaito said. "I accidentally created a legend of a man who could snap everything. At first, I was also confused why I can manipulate 2d and 3d realities at will but maybe jt was because of my childhood...I was growing up thinking and waiting for my quirk to appear until I gave up and started to accept the reality of me being practically quirkless."
"Yes, I was very worried when Kaito was growing as a child. He speaks very weirdly and started posing in different ways. At one time I saw him doing hand signs in the backyard and staring at the cat. I also caught him shrieking like a dying bird infront of a mirror." Grandma Saki interrupted on the side.
"....."
"Hahaha"
"Grandma, don't tell them about my embarassing past"
"I was really worried about him. He didn't even have a single friend growing up. So thank you being there for him" Grandma Saki looked at the people infront of him.
"No no no. I am very fortunate Kaito became my neighbor and friend", Koichi look flustered on the side.
"Yes, he helped me for everthing." Kazuho replied also a bit embarassed
"Haha. It's not a problem Grandma Saki" Makoto replied with a smile
"Haha, don't worry about it, Saki-san. I am also very thankful about this kid. I'm pretty sure now.. he restored my quirk and my family silently" Iwao replied. "I am indebted for him for life."
"That's too much Old-man. I just did what was the right thing to do.. Back to my topic." Kaito looked out the window.
"The collective belief was growing stronger day by day, I could have probably moved the moon in the future if the whole world asked for it. I wasn't just Kaito anymore. I was whatever they were praying and hoping for. But that's the problem. Being Hero X is like wearing a suit that's too tight. I lose myself in what they want. That's why I wear this grey suit. That's why I work a 9-to-5. It's the only time I'm just Kaito, and not a reflection of someone else's imagination."
"...."
"...."
The room went dead silent.
The shock was there, but so was the understanding.
They looked at the guy who had helped them with their taxes and gear. He wasn't a monster. He was a guy trapped in everyone else's expectations.
"You saved us many times Kaito, for that we are very thankful" Koichi said, his voice soft.
"I was tired of hiding from you guys," Kaito said. "And I didn't want to lose the only people who actually know the guy under the suit."
Kazuho sniffled, finally taking a sip of her tea. "You're still a jerk for not telling us sooner. But... thanks, I guess. For everything."
"I know, you're hiding something but you have us now.. Thank you for sharing use your huge secret Kaito" Makoto looked at him.
"I'll buy the next round of okonomiyaki," Kaito offered. "To make up for the drama."
"You're damn right you will," Iwao grunted, though a small, ghost of a smile touched his lips. "A god who pays for dinner. I can live with that."
Grandma Saki stood up, smoothing her apron. She walked over to Kaito and patted his shoulder—a simple, human gesture that seemed to anchor him more than any legend could.
"The tea is cold and the boy is half-dead on his feet," Saki said, giving the group a pointed look. "No more questions. Go home. Kaito needs to be normal for at least eight hours of sleep."
"Yes, ma'am," Koichi said, standing up and stretching.
They left quietly, one by one.
The heavy, forced tension was gone, replaced by a quiet, shared secret.
_-_-_-_-_-_
Location: Shizuoka Prefecture – Private Beach
Date: Two Weeks Later (The Soft Timeskip)
WISHHHHH. SHHHH.
The sound of the Pacific Ocean lapping against the white sand was the only rhythm that mattered.
The sun was high and golden, casting a warm, shimmering light over the rolling waves.
A month had passed since the Sky Egg incident.
The news cycles had finally slowed, the "Special Asset" classification for Hero X was now official government policy, and the world had settled into a new, tense status quo.
In the center of a large beach blanket, Emi was squealing with delight.
"Gogogo! Gaga!"
Kaito Arisaka, wearing a plain navy-blue swim shirt and khaki shorts, was sitting in the sand.
He wasn't holding a tablet or a contract.
He was holding a small plastic shovel. He was carefully helping the toddler build a massive, surprisingly architectural sandcastle.
"It needs a stronger foundation, Emi," Kaito said, his voice warm and light. He patted the wet sand into a perfect, reinforced buttress. "Otherwise, the next wave will fall."
A few yards away, Grandma Saki sat under a large umbrella, watching them with a peaceful smile.
Beside her, Kimiko was laughing as she watched Kenji try to teach Tamao's mother, Hanako, how to use a specialized "Hero-Support" orthopedic walker on the uneven sand.
Kenji walked over, dripping wet and carrying two cold cans of beer.
He handed one to Kaito, who took it with a grateful nod.
CRACK-FZZZT.
Kaito popped the tab and took a long, cold drink, leaning back on his elbows.
He felt the sun on his skin, the sand between his toes, and the simple, uncomplicated joy of a Saturday afternoon with his family.
For the last month, he had effectively deleted "Hero X" hype again. He had stayed off the grid, letting his automated systems handle the Arisaka Consulting emails.
He had played with Emi, cooked dinner for his grandmother, and helped Hanako with her physical therapy.
He wasn't the Hero X this time. He wasn't the Singularity. He was just Kaito.
"You okay, kid?" Kenji asked, sitting down beside him.
"Perfect," Kaito replied, looking out at the horizon. "No noise. No expectations. Just the sea."
_-_-_-_-_-_
Location: Minato Ward, Tokyo – Arisaka Consulting
Date: One Week Later (Return to Tokyo)
BRRR-RING. BRRR-RING. BRRR-RING.
The peace of Shizuoka felt like a lifetime ago.
Kaito sat behind his mahogany desk in Tokyo. The air-conditioning hummed at a perfect twenty-one degrees Celsius.
His charcoal-grey jacket was hung neatly on the rack, and his desk was a mountain of platinum-bound folders.
He picked up the phone.
"Endeavor-san. Yes, I received your fifth request. My answer remains the same. Your thermal blast-zones are still incompatible with my current routing models. We can revisit this in the next fiscal quarter. Goodbye."
CLICK.
He barely had time to breathe before the next line lit up.
"Hawks-san. No, I am not interested in a 'high-speed synergy audit' for the HPSC. Tell Mera-san that if he wants my time, he can wait in line with everyone else. Yes. Have a nice day."
CLICK.
Kaito leaned back, rubbing his temples.
Every agency, from the Top 10 to the rising and mid pro-heroes, wanted the "Golden Manager" to fix and improve their agency.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
The door opened.
Miyashita, the secretary from Detnerat, stepped into the office.
He didn't look like the panicked heroes on the phone. He looked like a professional who was about to make a move.
"Mr. Arisaka," Miyashita said, bowing respectfully. "I hope your time in Shizuoka was restorative."
"It was quiet, Miyashita-san," Kaito said, gesturing for him to sit. "Which I suspect is about to end."
Miyashita smiled thinly, placing a sleek, matte-black briefcase on the desk.
He opened it, revealing a single, high-tensile document with the Detnerat silver seal.
"President Yotsubashi was very impressed by your work with the 'Standard' agencies," Miyashita began. "He believes that the Hero Support industry is stagnant. It relies on old technology and old ideas. He wants to transform Detnerat from a lifestyle brand into the absolute leader in support gear ventures."
Miyashita slid the contract across the desk.
"He is offering you the position of Special Executive Consultant to the President. You would report only to him. You would have total control over the R&D budgets and the tactical deployment of our support technologies."
Kaito picked up the contract, his eyes scanning the numbers. It was an astronomical amount of money—more than most Top 10 heroes made in a decade.
But more importantly, it offered him a seat at the table of the most powerful corporate entity in Japan.
"He wants me to lead the high-end support ventures," Kaito murmured, his mind already mapping out the logistical potential of Detnerat's manufacturing plants.
"He wants your vision, Arisaka-san," Miyashita said. "He believes you are the only one who can bridge the gap between human potential and the new reality we all witnessed at the Sky Egg."
Kaito looked at the Detnerat logo.
He remembered Re-Destro from the gala—the fanaticism hidden behind the CEO's smile. He knew exactly what Detnerat was. He knew about the Meta Liberation Army. He knew about the shadow war they were preparing for.
He also knew that if he joined them, he would have the "Admin Password" for the very gear the villains were planning to use.
Kaito looked at his golden glasses on the desk, then back at Miyashita.
"The Hero Support industry is indeed inefficient," Kaito said, his voice dropping into his cold, professional rhythm. "It requires... correction."
He picked up his silver pen.
"Tell the President I accept,"
_-_-_-_-_
Author's Note:
Thank you everyone for supporting me and for your patience! The heavy project management work on my end is finally done, which means I am officially back to regular daily updates!
I also want to assure you: don't worry, this book will be finished. I can promise you that. It won't be dropped, not now and not ever. Please understand that there are times when my real-life work gets incredibly busy and causes release inconsistencies. If that happens again, I will always announce it beforehand, but there shouldn't be any more major delays like that moving forward.
Thank you for sticking with the story!
.....
Support the journey here:
patreon.com/Dr_Chad
(9 Advanced Chapters)