Inside a spacious, brightly lit room sat a single table and two chairs.
Fubuki sat in the center chair, nervously watching the man behind the desk who was scrutinizing her.
'So this is the Chairman of the Hero Association... a powerhouse on the same level as my sister. His presence is truly extraordinary. What should I do? I'm so nervous!'
Aomori held her Hero Registration Form, physical examination report, and ability test evaluation. His eyes didn't blink as he took in the mature beauty before him.
'She really is... quite large,' Aomori thought to himself, his eyes accidentally grazing her measurements on the data sheet.
At twenty years old, Fubuki was fully developed, her appearance and figure nearly identical to Aomori's memories of her.
To be honest, Aomori's initial impression of Fubuki from the original story was quite poor. She had lived her entire life in the shadow of her elder sister, Tatsumaki, and was abnormally obsessed with the title of "Number One." Because of this, she squatted on the Rank 1 spot of B-Class. To maintain that position, she established the "Blizzard Group," suppressing and bullying any newcomers who refused to join, turning the Hero Association into a vanity fair of factions and cliques.
While she was the "darling" of the manga artist Yusuke Murata, earning countless high-detail close-ups that sent her popularity soaring, Aomori was no simpleton who let his morals follow his eyes. He had always looked down on characters who relied on fanservice.
The current Hero Association was his association, and he would not allow anyone to turn it into a cesspool.
For Tatsumaki's sake, Aomori felt it was his duty and responsibility as Chairman to "re-educate" this wayward young woman with skewed values, showing her firsthand what a true hero should be.
"Fubuki, is it?"
"Um, yes."
"As far as I know, you are Tatsumaki's younger sister, correct?" Aomori's gaze was deep. He interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them, leaning forward slightly to apply silent pressure.
Step one: Use a secret to break through her facade.
'Why? How does he know?!' Fubuki was struck with shock.
Based on appearance and name alone, no one should have been able to link her to Tatsumaki. Even if people knew they were sisters, few would believe the mature-looking one was the younger sister.
"Why do I know? It would be stranger if I didn't. After all, I am the Chairman of the Hero Association. There is very little that happens in this world that I don't know about."
'What a... what a terrifying man.'
Under that gaze, which seemed to perceive everything, Fubuki felt as though all her secrets were being stripped bare.
"Um, yes. I am Tatsumaki's sister. I haven't exactly gone out of my way to hide it," Fubuki said, struggling to keep her expression neutral.
"With a sister as exceptional as Tatsumaki, life must be quite difficult for you."
'Difficult doesn't even begin to cover it. It's suffocating!'
"It's nothing. My sister and I have a good relationship," Fubuki said, clenching her teeth.
"Is that so?" Aomori's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "So, you don't have even the slightest thought of surpassing her?"
'I don't hope to surpass her. I only want her to look at me, to respect my thoughts.'
"No. Sister is... impossible to surpass."
"Surpassing her is indeed difficult. However, with her prickly personality, gaining her recognition is even harder than surpassing her strength."
"I know! That's why I did whatever it took, hiding it from her to join the Hero Association! I won't give up!" Fubuki blurted out the sentence in one breath before belatedly covering her mouth.
'Crap! I accidentally said what I was thinking out loud.'
"Excellent. I like young people with drive." Aomori leaned back, looking relaxed. "Now, attack me with your strongest move. Let me see if your strength matches your ambition."
"Now? In here?" Fubuki asked, looking at the expensive paintings hanging on the walls.
"Indeed. Don't worry, if you break something, you don't have to pay."
"Then I'm relieved."
Fubuki stood up. She held her arms out, twisted her waist, and her esper powers erupted. A spiraling current of air suddenly rose in the sealed room, rotating rapidly around her.
However, despite the intensity of the gale, the paintings on the walls, the tiles on the floor, and the stationery on the nearby desk remained perfectly still, completely unaffected.
'How is this happening?'
Fubuki immediately recalled a similar scene that occurred whenever she was in front of her sister. She blurted out, "You have esper powers too?!"
And they were significantly stronger than hers.
"You noticed? Yes, it's an esper power similar to yours, or rather, psychokinesis. While it's not as powerful as Tatsumaki's, it's more than enough to handle you."
'Tatsumaki, Tatsumaki... Why is it that every time anyone opens their mouth, it's always Tatsumaki?! Does Fubuki not deserve a name of her own?!'
Her chest heaved with emotion. With tears welling in her eyes, Fubuki let out a sharp cry. Her powers flared again as the wind speed in the room accelerated sharply, sweeping toward Aomori.
"Hell Storm!"
Facing Fubuki's wrathful strike, Aomori remained expressionless. He gently snapped his fingers with his right hand. The oncoming storm instantly transformed into a gentle spring breeze, lightly fluttering the bangs on his forehead.
"My secret technique... just like that..." In Fubuki's eyes, Aomori's figure suddenly magnified. He had stood up at some point, rounded the desk, and appeared before her. A single palm blocked her entire field of vision like a falling sky.
With a muffled grunt, the atmospheric defensive barrier Fubuki had erected was punctured like a thin film.
Aomori curled his other fingers, extending only his index finger to lightly tap her smooth forehead, pressing her back into the chair. "Omae wa mou shindeiru."
Step two: Use overwhelming strength to instantly crush her mental defenses.
"Am I really that weak? Is the gap between me and my sister that large?" Fubuki bit her lip, tears streaming down her face, her eyes filled with despair.
"It is much larger than you imagine."
"I see..." Fubuki buried her head in her own "haven," entering a state of self-isolation.
"However, I believe you have the potential to become someone that no one, including your sister, can ignore." Aomori shifted to a gentler tone.
"Is there really hope?"
"Of course. I am the Chairman of the Hero Association. If I say there is hope, there is hope."
That's right. The esteemed Chairman of the Hero Association wouldn't have the time to lie to me.
A light suddenly ignited in Fubuki's heart. She looked up, gazing at Aomori with hope. "What should I do?"
"Become my student." Aomori opened his arms, seemingly embracing everything. "With my guidance, even if the probability is as slim as 0.0001%, I can turn it into 1%."
"Only 1%?"
Strangely, this made her believe him more. It felt grounded and realistic.
"Why are you helping me?" Fubuki still had doubts.
Aomori smiled. "I've always been fond of those who strive to improve themselves. Besides, does helping someone really need a reason? Helping those in need of your own accord, that is the very first quality a hero must possess."
"Helping those in need of your own accord?" Fubuki repeated the words, gaining a deeper understanding of the hero profession.
To be honest, she had only wanted to become a hero to chase Tatsumaki's footsteps. Now, she was truly interested in the profession, and her respect for Aomori grew substantially.
"So, your answer?"
"To receive personal guidance from Chairman Aomori is something anyone would beg for. I am, of course, willing to be your student." Fubuki wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and smiled again.
"Still calling me Chairman Aomori? Call me Sensei."
"Yes, Sensei!"
Step three: Establish a common front and gain trust. Success!
"You can head back for now. I'll give you your apprenticeship gift in a couple of days." Once Fubuki's emotions had stabilized and she no longer looked out of the ordinary, Aomori sent her home.
"Understood!"
'An apprenticeship gift! I can't wait!' Fubuki left in a wonderful mood.
Saitama brushed past her as he entered the room. Seeing the chair in the middle, he nodded to Aomori and sat down without a second thought.
Finally seeing Saitama-sensei in person, Aomori found his heart was unexpectedly calm.
"Saitama?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"My name is Aomori. I'm the Chairman of the Hero Association."
"Yeah, I know."
"Then do you know why I called you here?"
"Huh? Wasn't it to collect my benefits? I was first in the physical test, right?" Saitama said, rubbing his head.
"Hmm? Ah, yes. Close enough." Aomori couldn't help but chuckle. This was indeed the Saitama-sensei from his memories. Blunt as always. No wonder he couldn't find a job.
"But before that, you have to have a match with me." Aomori stood up and took the initiative to walk over to him.
Saitama stood up as well, asking curiously, "Why?"
"Well, to better estimate your strength. If you perform well, the benefits will be doubled!"
In reality, Aomori looked at Saitama-sensei's full head of hair and had a sudden whim. He wanted to take this chance to punch him and record a precious video. A year or so from now, such an opportunity would likely never exist again.
"No problem!" Hearing that the benefits would double, Saitama's gaze immediately became sharp.
"You make the first move."
"Okay." Saitama had heard from Glasses that the Chairman of the Hero Association was the strongest human in the world. Knowing his current amateur skills were likely far inferior, he held nothing back and went all out.
He held his fists before his chest, his footwork swaying left and right. He slid toward Aomori with a ghost-like movement, his fists shooting out like bullets.
Aomori extended two fingers, blocking every single punch.
Seeing his fists were ineffective, Saitama wasn't discouraged. He suddenly stepped onto the desk, spinning as he leaped into the air. Using the ceiling as a springboard, he used gravity to bolster his momentum as he charged at Aomori.
Aomori grabbed his arm and swung him toward the floor, yet he was nearly caught in a neck-lock by Saitama's legs.
In this manner, Saitama kept changing his tactics to attack Aomori. Aomori focused mainly on defense, occasionally reaching out to ruffle Saitama's hair.
About an hour passed. Saitama collapsed to the ground, panting heavily as he waved his hand. "I can't... I'm exhausted."
"Then let's end it here."
During this hour, Aomori had gauged Saitama's current level.
Right now, his strength was likely a notch below Puri-Puri Prisoner, but in a real fight, Saitama would undoubtedly win. Saitama truly was a genius of practical combat; his talent, intuition, and experience were beyond ordinary. Even when he seemed about to be defeated, he always came up with an unthinkable response. Combined with his staggering endurance, it was no wonder the monsters he killed didn't die in vain.
Especially considering Saitama-sensei's "First Blood," the Tiger-level Crablante who died at the hands of a Saitama who hadn't even begun training, Aomori felt the result would be the same even if it happened again.
It was just that after he became invincible, all these combat techniques were discarded as unnecessary "flashy" things.
It had only been a month since he started training, yet he had grown from struggling against a Tiger-level to effortlessly dominating them. This leveling speed was like being strapped to a rocket.
Next month, he might be able to fight Demon-level threats.
Truly worthy of being Saitama-sensei. Aomori sighed with sincere admiration. "Your foundation is very solid. There's no need to waste time at the Hero's Starting Ground. From now on, you are a B-Class hero. You will carry out your hero activities in Z-City."
"Oh, okay." Saitama didn't have any particular feeling about the rank.
"As for the benefits..."
"What are the benefits?!" Saitama stood up instantly, looking completely revitalized.
"Do you want money or a house?"
'It really is this choice! Good thing I decided long ago.'
"Money, obviously!" Saitama clenched his fist and shouted, "I'm used to my current place. Moving suddenly would be a pain. Money is different; it improves my life immediately!"
Whatever makes you happy.
Subsequently, Aomori sent Saitama to the finance department to collect his bonus and his smart watch.
Two days later.
Fubuki, who had specially dressed up to look even more beautiful and radiant, arrived at the Hero Association in high spirits to find Aomori and receive her apprenticeship gift.
"Ta-da! The 'Super Invincible Simple and Plain but Useful Platinum Armor Set'."
Aomori unveiled the mysterious gift, causing Fubuki's smile to freeze on her face.
"Sensei... is this the kind that moves on its own and is responsible for protecting me?"
"Of course not. You are a hero who protects others, not one who needs to be protected. This armor is for you to wear. Don't worry, it was designed specifically to your proportions. There's no way it won't fit."
Well, thank you for that.
"Sensei, why?"
"Have you forgotten the reason you became my student? This is a special tool I made to assist you in surpassing Tatsumaki."
"With this thing?" Fubuki expressed doubt.
"Try it on."
"Fine."
With the help of an auxiliary device, Fubuki easily donned the bright silver Platinum Armor.
"How does it feel?"
"It's so heavy!"
"Exactly. That is its first feature: Weight." Aomori explained, "You need to maintain a constant output of esper power just to move, otherwise, your physical strength won't be enough to bear the load. This will train your endurance in power output."
"Mm!"
"Now, put on the helmet."
"Sensei, I can't see anything. Did I put it on wrong?" Fubuki's voice sounded muffled through the metal.
"You put it on right. That is its second feature: Darkness. The helmet has no openings; it's fully sealed. The air holes are located elsewhere on the suit. You need to use the psychic feelers of your esper power to replace your eyes to observe the world. This will train your perception."
"Phew! Alright then."
"As for the final feature... its plain and unadorned appearance will seal away your world-ending beauty, so you don't waste time on external vanity. I see your makeup today took no less than half an hour, didn't it?"
"Well... beauty is a woman's nature. Half an hour isn't that big a deal."
"Wrong!" Aomori's expression was stern. "Half an hour for makeup, half an hour to remove it. That's one hour a day. That's 30 hours a month, and 365 hours a year wasted. Wouldn't those 365 hours be better spent training? Do you still want to surpass your sister?"
Fubuki let out a sigh and resigned herself to her fate. "I do!"
"Any other questions?"
"No."
"Starting tomorrow, you will wear this suit and report to the Hero's Starting Ground under the hero name 'Ironclad Warrior.' You will stay there for one month. That is your first assignment."
"Yes!"
…
After sending Fubuki away, Aomori went to the third basement level of the Hero Association Headquarters, where a secret laboratory had been established.
The person in charge was Dr. Genus.
"Genus, how are you finding it here?"
"It's alright," replied Dr. Genus, who was clad in a white lab coat.
"Any progress on that meteorite?" Aomori was referring to the Amadam Spirit Stone he had won from the gacha. He had given it to Dr. Genus to research, hoping he could replicate a transformation item with fewer side effects.
"Chairman, it's only been ten days since I got that stone. How could it be that fast? Do you think this is a simple observation diary?" Dr. Genus said irritably.
"Fine, keep at it."
Aomori looked around. Finding no issues, he left the third basement level and descended to the fourth.
Access to this level belonged to him alone; it was his most private sanctuary.
Tonight, he would enter a dungeon again.
Aomori had already reached Level 20, unlocking Level 20 dungeons. This time, he was entering a new one.
Ding!
[Would you like to enter the Level 20 Dungeon immediately?]
"Yes!"
The familiar black hole appeared and swallowed him whole.
The moment Aomori disappeared, Blast, who was thousands of miles away, suddenly felt a jolt.
"Another spatial fluctuation. No... I still can't pinpoint where it is. Who exactly is using spatial power? Could it be God?"
Blast looked at the void before him, his expression grave.
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