Climbing up a deserted hillside, the wind blowing across the slope was clearly stronger than in the city below. Looking down at the skyline hidden at the edge of the forest, Joestar Joshiro raised his hand and drew a purple card from the void.
"Heart of Fury, equipment completed."
…
"Hmm?"
Inside a mountain dōjō, a small silver-haired elder sipping tea twitched his ears slightly. The moment he set down his teacup, the figure that appeared rickety a moment ago vanished. In the next instant, he reappeared at the mountain's peak, hand raised to shade his eyes as he looked into the distance.
Far off at the horizon, the clear blue sky had darkened, lead-colored clouds rolling in. The wind howled, lightning cut across the clouds, and thunder shook the air as violent bolts struck a hillside. Heaven and earth dimmed beneath the destructive storm.
The spirited little elder stroked his chin, frowning. "Such intense thunder… it's unusual."
…
City Z.
On a street below, a black-haired young man jogging slowed his pace. Panting heavily, he wiped the sweat from his face, then caught sight of the storm forming at the horizon.
"Strange… is it going to rain again? I still have another five kilometers left… ha… ha…"
Catching his breath, he turned back toward the city and forced his body into a steady jog once more.
…
Beneath the thunderclouds, the instant Joshiro placed the character card onto the equipment slot, he felt electricity surge wildly through his body. Thunder energy dyed his eyes a bright silver, and his tall figure was swallowed by the bursts of electricity erupting outward.
The hillside shook as arcs of lightning tore through the dark air.
…
Two days later, a new week began. Joshiro reported to the police station early in the morning as usual, submitting paperwork for the strange attack from the previous week. After exchanging brief greetings with colleagues from his training period, he mounted his small motorbike and started his patrol for the day.
No one noticed the faint arcs occasionally sparking from his hair before vanishing into the air.
With disasters growing more frequent in Z-City, police resources had been stretched thin. As one of the sharper recruits, Joshiro, who had only joined earlier this year, had already been granted authorization to patrol alone.
He chewed on a pineapple bun bought from a roadside shop. A cup of hot milk floated beside him, held by his telekinesis. For him, the working atmosphere felt casual.
Though the Heroes Association had taken over as the primary line of defense against monsters due to their overwhelming combat power, the police remained responsible for most clean-up and support tasks afterward. Joshiro had no interest in contesting the arrangement and instead considered working part-time as a registered hero. If he was already fighting monsters, it made sense to earn two salaries.
Thanks to the police reporting system, Joshiro could track movements of monsters in real time throughout his assigned jurisdiction. And if he reacted quickly enough, there was little danger of clashing with assigned Association heroes.
Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, he spotted a figure ahead and nearly choked on his milk.
Not far from him, a black-haired young man in blue and white sportswear was staggering forward. Sweat ran down his face in streams, his chest heaved like a broken bellows, and his labored breathing made him appear ready to collapse.
In Joshiro's mind, the outline of the man's thick hair faded, and what remained overlapped perfectly with the image of a bald head and lifeless eyes. His stomach tightened with unease.
Saitama.
Talk of competing for monster fights suddenly felt much more real now that the man himself was here. Joshiro exhaled slowly, already sensing that his work as a police officer might become far more difficult to maintain.
…
Saitama struggled through the last stretch of running, clutching his thighs as he gasped for air. To those passing by, it looked like he might collapse at any second.
Parking his motorbike near the park's path, Joshiro tossed the empty bag from breakfast into a trash bin before turning his attention back. Inside the park, children playing nearby watched as Saitama forced himself into squats, his face tight with strain. What followed was his well-known daily routine: push-ups, sit-ups, squats. Even bleeding at the eyes, Saitama carried on wordlessly.
Joshiro's intercom crackled with a call. A bag thief was fleeing only three blocks away. Looking once at his map, he activated his telekinesis. Blue energy engulfed him as his body lifted off the ground, floating free of gravity before he shot into the sky.
From above, the rooftops and streets stretched out below. His vision sharpened, scanning until it locked onto the fleeing thief crouched in an alley, counting stolen bills.
Target located. Solution straightforward.
Joshiro dove with speed, compressing his mental energy into a powerful gravity field that came crashing down as he reached the ground.
The thief barely raised his head before he was flattened to the pavement, instantly unconscious.
Landing calmly, Joshiro secured the thief with handcuffs, dragged him to the waiting police van nearby, and filed the handoff at the station all within minutes.
Back at the park, he found Saitama finishing the last of his push-ups, his body trembling as he forced the final number out through grit. Sweat poured from him in heavy drops, his breath ragged. Despite his exhaustion, Saitama refused to cut corners.
Joshiro opened two bottles of soda from a vending machine and walked over.
Saitama noticed him approaching and straightened slightly, still panting heavily. "Officer… is something wrong?"
"Here." Joshiro held out the drink. "Have a soda."
"Huh?" Saitama blinked in surprise before accepting it. The cold orange soda sat in his hand, condensation running down the side.
He opened it without hesitation and drank deeply. His body was screaming for water, and the drink eased the ache in his chest almost immediately. "Thanks… that helps a lot."
Joshiro nodded and opened a bottle for himself. "I happened to be passing by and saw you training. You have solid willpower."
Saitama paused, staring briefly at the soda in his hand before smiling faintly. "Thank you very much, Officer."
"You're welcome." Joshiro patted his shoulder once and lifted his bottle in encouragement. "Keep it up."
"I will."
As Joshiro turned away with his drink, Saitama watched his back quietly before taking another sip. He muttered softly, almost as a promise to himself, "That officer is a good guy huh..."
PS GOALS: 150 PS= 5-10 extra chapter on an update.
💕💕
READ 45+ ADVANCED CHAPTER AT MY P@TREON! FOR ONLY 10$
at [email protected] /Zaneninjacat
💕💕
💀💀 gimme powerstones!💀💀