Chapter 13

The Hero Entrance Exam venue was a dome-like structure, packed with aspiring heroes radiating determination and energy. The atmosphere was tense, disrupted by the sudden halt of the examination.

Voices of frustration and impatience filled the air. Questions and threats flew at the meek guard stationed there, demanding answers for the unexpected pause.

"Wasn't the examination supposed to start today?"

"Don't stall! Give us an explanation or face the consequences!"

As the crowd's agitation grew, the armed lady in a protective vest tried to use Amai Mask's name to quell the uproar. The mention of the enigmatic hero's presence only added fuel to the fire, intensifying their anger. Amai Mask, the divisive figure who held both admiration and resentment, was hardly their savior in this moment.

Feeling the chaos escalate, I released a subtle pulse of my aura, causing some of the agitated heroes to fall unconscious, their anger subdued instantly.

Stepping over the fallen heroes, I made my way to the main entrance. I sensed a dozen life forces inside, with two significantly powerful signatures. The stronger, darker one belonged unmistakably to Amai Mask. The identity of the other was a mystery, igniting my curiosity.

Waving at a hidden security camera, I triggered the door to slide open. Inside, I was met by Sekingar and Exma, their expressions a mix of calm and concern.

"Welcome, Marikawa-san," Sekingar greeted me, his demeanor shifting as he took in the unconscious heroes behind me. "What transpired here?"

Exma, the enigmatic woman with striking blue tattoos, maintained her usual serious demeanor. "Did you incapacitate them, Marikawa-san?"

The lady guard, the focus of the chaos, rushed over to express her gratitude for my intervention. I simply crossed my arms and offered the duo a smile. "I'm starting to reconsider my options if the Hero Association can't handle a situation like this."

Sekingar offered a sheepish explanation. "This facility is slightly understaffed at the moment. The exams have always gone smoothly, so we didn't anticipate needing to hold them back."

I had been a unique case, prompting them to divert resources and attention away from the regular examinations.

"Let's not waste any more time then," Exma interjected, her voice direct. "Marikawa-san, come with us. We'll begin by assessing your physical abilities."

I couldn't help but tease the duo. "You two look quite compatible, if I may say so. Just my observation."

Their reactions were a mix of surprise and amusement, and I followed them into the testing area. The path ahead was uncertain, but I was eager to see what challenges lay in store. My journey to become an S-Class hero was taking me down an intriguing path, filled with unexpected allies, adversaries, and mysteries waiting to be unraveled.

Exma's straightforward invitation to proceed with the assessment was met with a playful observation on my part. "You two look like a couple, to be honest. Just my opinion."

The exchange prompted an amused look from Exma, who glanced at Sekingar. Their dynamic was an intriguing blend of candidness and professionalism.

Sekingar, however, shook his head, a clear dismissal of any romantic association. It seemed Exma was the last person he would consider as a potential partner.

Exma glanced over her shoulder at me, her expression deadpan. "Don't have time for dates and all."

Sekingar's response was equally pragmatic. "We don't doubt your strength, but a test would allow us to assess your rating in a more concrete manner."

Sekingar's communication was more polished, a skill perhaps honed by his leadership role. Exma, on the other hand, favored straightforwardness. Their contrasting approaches added an interesting layer to their interactions.

My skepticism emerged as I expressed doubt about their equipment's ability to measure my capabilities accurately.

Sekingar's smirk conveyed his confidence. "We have the best-in-class equipment at this facility."

The testing room was littered with broken equipment, a testament to the sheer force I had exerted during the assessment. Sekingar's exclamation echoed the disbelief that hung in the air.

Sekingar's gaze fixed on me, a blend of awe and apprehension in his single eye. "You're a monster."

In his words, I sensed both admiration and a tinge of fear. My display of power had shattered every record they had, surpassing even their most advanced equipment's capabilities. My origin remained shrouded in mystery, and Sekingar speculated that I might hail from a martial artist clan akin to Bang.

On the opposite side, Exma sported a strange smile as she scratched her chin. Sekingar hadn't noticed her gesture, but I could tell she had her own insights.

'His strength is S-Class,' Exma's unspoken acknowledgment resonated within me.

With a casual wave of my hand, I inquired, "Is this enough?"

Eager to conclude this mundane event and return to Astraea for further progress, I awaited their response.

Sekingar, however, had additional information to share. "We also have a written test... the last phase."

My dissatisfaction with the idea of a written test was evident. "Written test? Am I a child or what?"

Though I feigned ignorance, I was well aware of the comprehensive nature of the Hero Entrance Exam. It served to evaluate both physical prowess and mental acumen, effectively scrutinizing an individual's character without resorting to traditional psychological evaluations.

"Fine. Lead the way," I acquiesced, sensing a sense of relief emanating from Sekingar. Dealing with S-Class heroes, each unique and often unorthodox in personality, was undoubtedly a challenging task. Yet, his relief suggested that I had managed to exceed his expectations in some manner.

I settled into a small room, the gaze of four security cameras fixed upon me from every direction. The unfamiliar sensation of a pen in my hand stirred a sense of nostalgia.

'It's been so long since I held one.'

The ink-filled instrument had lost its relevance in my daily life, except for its use in filling up my diary.

"Done."

The door slid open shortly after, admitting Sekingar into the room. Handing over the test sheet, I observed his scrutinizing gaze as he reviewed my handwriting.

"Sharp handwriting," he remarked, a note of surprise evident in his tone. "Can you wait for half an hour? We'll contact you with the result of the test."

Sensing an unnecessary delay, I offered a counter suggestion, "Half an hour? It's just a small test. Check it in ten minutes."

Sekingar faltered under the weight of my dignified response. "I-I'll try."

As I settled back into the chair, I closed my eyes, maintaining a regal posture that discouraged any approach. Yet, beneath my outward calm, my senses remained vigilant, probing the environment around me. There was more to this facility than met the eye, and I intended to uncover its secrets while I awaited the results of the written test.

While I awaited the results of the written test, my senses remained alert, probing the environment for any hidden clues. Little did I know that in another room, a man with pale blue hair scrutinized a playback of my casual destruction of the Hero Association's advanced examination equipment. This man was none other than the renowned Amai Mask, celebrated for his charismatic concerts and his status as a heartthrob among women of various ages. A mask concealed his face, embodying his identity as a symbol of justice during his early days. However, when the mask cracked, he captivated the world with his irresistible allure.

"He is strong enough for the S-Class, and he possesses beauty akin to mine."

Despite recognizing my qualifications, Amai Mask hesitated to endorse my promotion to the S-Class. A sense of unease lingered as he observed me, seemingly on the brink of slumber on the screen. My sudden appearance raised questions, and the shroud of mystery surrounding my background only heightened his concerns.

"I might be overreacting," he mused, absently spinning a pen between his fingers. "Refusing his promotion without valid grounds would contradict the principles of justice."

Amai Mask's vehement aversion to anything contrary to justice extended to a deep-seated disdain for all things ugly, which he considered the epitome of evil.

His fingers dialed Sekingar's number. "He has my approval."

With a decisive statement, he ended the call. Pushing away from the desk, he rose to his feet, casting one final glance at the screen displaying my image. Seemingly in response to his gaze, my eyes opened, and an uncanny sensation seemed to connect our gazes across the digital divide.

"I don't need your approval," my voice echoed in the air.

Amai Mask's form stiffened, a shiver coursing through him as I continued speaking, my tone laced with a knowing edge.

In the wake of my words, a chilling realization gripped Amai Mask, his heart racing uncontrollably as his muscles tensed in response. The mere thought of my identity being unveiled triggered an instinctual fight-or-flight response.

"You aren't addressing me," I remarked, my gaze seemingly piercing through the screen.

Amai Mask's unease escalated, his mind reeling as I shook my head, conveying that my words were meant for another. In the span of a heartbeat, amai left the room,