Tap… tap.
"...?"
How long have I been walking?
I was supposed to be looking for a good place to die. I had been in the middle of the city, but now I was standing on a pier overlooking the sea. And it was night.
Boom!
That explosion came from the north, from the residential areas. The heroes were still fighting the monster—only now I was far enough away not to suffer the consequences of that clash.
"How did I get here?"
I wondered. With my current condition, there was no way I could have made it this far.
"...!"
That was when I realized I didn't feel any pain anymore.
"What the hell…"
"?!?"
"..."
"What?"
Wait… I just spoke! What happened to my mask?!
My hands trembled as they slowly rose to my face. I had to feel it… the mask… it had to be there.
But there was nothing. I froze, listening to the silence that surrounded me, a silence that felt absolute.
No… it couldn't be. Without a mask, the air should have been tearing my lungs apart, ripping my life away second by second. I inhaled. The air went in without difficulty. I did it again, waiting for the burning, the suffocation, the pain… nothing.
Impossible. Something was wrong. Very wrong. I could feel my heart beating with an alien rhythm, as if it was counting down to something I didn't understand.
And still, I kept breathing.
"Well… time to test something."
I inhaled as much air as I could, filling my lungs with Gravisoma particles. A normal human would feel exhaustion through their entire body, and soon their lungs would burn horribly. But me? I felt nothing at all.
"What's going on? Is this a dream? It must be… everything happening right now can only be a crazy dream. If this is a dream, then it has to be a fantastic one. The view from here is incredible. For a moment I even thought about jumping into the sea and swimming around. Who cares that I don't even know how to swim? It's not like you can die in a dream."
"No. Things don't work like that."
A mysterious voice interrupted me before I could jump into the water.
"In dreams, people can only imagine what happens before or after their death—but never during."
It was a blond man dressed in an elegant suit. He looked like a lawyer.
"Pretty stupid, don't you think? Nobody can truly imagine that feeling… how your body weakens while you relive every memory stored in that trash heap you call a brain."
His voice was calm as he described every step that comes before death.
"Aaah… who the hell are you?"
"Oh, of course, where are my manners? Allow me to properly introduce myself."
Suddenly, the stranger started… posing?
"My name is Lucius S. Mortristan the Second. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Robert."
"How do you know my name?"
"Relax, little fool. I know you have plenty of questions, and I have all the answers you're looking for."
This guy spoke with a mix of elegance and insults.
"But first, answer me something. The girl from earlier… why did you save her?"
"What girl?"
I asked.
"The girl human you gave your mask to."
The stranger replied.
For a moment, I had forgotten. I saved her, didn't I?
"Huh? The girl… well, I just helped her because…"
Why did I do it? That was what I was asking myself deep down. The truth was, I had no real reason to save her. I just did it because otherwise she would've ended up like me: suffering slowly, begging for a quick death. And that's something a child should never have to go through.
Besides, my sacrifice didn't really matter. I was going to die anyway.
"I saved that girl because I could. I had the means. That's why I wanted—no, why I had—to help her."
As I said that, another thought crossed my mind: If I weren't dying, would I still have saved that girl? A hard question. I'd spent my whole life running from danger, so used to leaving others behind just to survive.
"So you're some kind of savior? You like saving people?"
"Mmm… no. I don't think so."
It wasn't like my dream was to become a hero or anything. The idea of helping her was just a fleeting desire. It was…
"It was just a caprice. I wanted to save her at that moment because I had the means to do it."
When I said this, the stranger didn't reply right away. He just smiled silently.
"Hey?"
There was something I had to ask him, a doubt eating away inside me.
"Am I dead?"
"Yes, but at the same time, no."
"What does that mean? Am I alive or dead?"
"It will all depend on your answer," said the stranger, while stroking his chin.
"Let's just say… you've been given a job offer."
"A job?"
"Yes. Someone sent in a recommendation with your name."
Now I was completely confused. I didn't know anyone who'd do that for me.
"Who was it?"
"No idea."
"…And what kind of job are we talking about?"
"Exterminating parasites."
"That's it?"
"Well… it's hard to explain, but I can promise you one thing."
As he said that, the stranger came closer. His expression grew serious and his smile faded.
"If you accept the job now, you'll be granted the ability to breathe without a mask; you won't need to wear one for the rest of your life."
"..."
"No."
"Yes."
"I don't believe you… you're lying."
"You're breathing right now because of me."
So it was thanks to this guy that I was still alive.
"Are you a superhuman?"
"You could say that," the stranger replied.
"I see… makes sense. If you… if you were human, you'd know it's impossible for someone like me to refuse an offer like this."
What he was offering me now was something any human would give anything for. Some would even be willing to kill just to be freed from wearing masks.
"I know. But believe it or not, four humans before you already turned this offer down."
"You're serious?" I asked, but the stranger stayed silent.
"How could anyone refuse an offer like this…? Hey… what happens if I turn it down?"
"Mmm… Robert." The stranger looked me in the eyes, serious, but also strangely compassionate.
"You died. Your life ended. What you're experiencing now is… an in-between. Something I created with my magic."
Magic. A mysterious power that one in ten superhumans possessed. The name came from old myths and legends that described it as control over the world's natural energy, or a gift from a deity. But from what I knew, the way it really worked wasn't like any of those explanations.
"If you refuse, you'll be allowed to die peacefully and painlessly. But if you accept… it'll be a new beginning for me."
So I really did die…
"Even if what you're offering is tempting, you still haven't told me everything about this job."
"And I won't."
The stranger flat-out refused to say more.
"You already know everything you need to. If you accept, the rest will be explained. You'll also be given all the equipment you need to do your work."
"But—"
"No buts. I've told you all you need to know. Now… what's your choice?"
BOOOOM!!!
Suddenly, a powerful blast interrupted us. In the distance, I saw a flash of light—an explosion so massive it looked like it could consume an entire district.
"Looks like the heroes took down the monster… quite the impressive display."
And he was right.
Every time I saw feats like that, whether from heroes or any other superhuman, I felt… powerless. Having overwhelming strength just because you were lucky enough to be born with it was unfair. I used to think that no matter what I did in this life, I was just a grain of sand on a vast beach. That's why I stopped trying, became a mediocre person who wasted every opportunity I had.
But then I met that idiot. A kid my age, always so optimistic. He was… he was a good friend. He looked at the world differently than I did. He believed that with effort, anything was possible.
In the end, we never got to find out if he was right. Because some superhuman went through a nasty divorce, lost his job, got hooked on drugs, then joined a cult that blamed humans for the world's problems. And then… he came to our town and killed around fifty people… including my friend.
Damn it, Max… you weren't supposed to die like that…
After that incident, my powerlessness turned into fear. I tried to live a quiet life, staying away from danger, taking no risks. But without realizing it, I'd stopped living altogether. I was just drifting down a river, going wherever the current took me, not caring where I'd end up, as long as it was far away from trouble.
Until I found out I'd be dead within a year. That was when I realized I'd wasted my life. And now… now I was practically dead already, being offered a new chance to start living again.
All the thoughts in my head came together into one single idea.
"I accept the offer."
I had to start living.
No matter what kind of job it was, no matter what magical benefits I was given. I had to stop being dead.
Here and now… I want to live. That's my caprice.