"You want me to become a celebrity?"
In a quiet café, Amai Mask looked across the table at a man and a woman, his expression filled with surprise.
"Yes. Here is my business card. We are talent scouts from Century Agency. We saw your profile on the Hero Association website and were very impressed. We'd like to invite you to join our agency." The male scout placed a card on the table and pushed it toward Amai Mask.
"Century Agency? You mean the entertainment agency Chairman Aomori used to belong to?" Amai Mask said, picking up the card.
"Since you know us, this will be much easier." The female scout nodded, her eyes lingering on Amai Mask's features. "Chairman Aomori is gradually fading out of the entertainment industry to dedicate himself fully to the Hero Association. Our agency is currently looking for his successor. We believe you are the perfect fit, you have the potential to become the next Aomori."
"Why me? Is it because of this face?" Ever since he realized his face had become strikingly handsome, Amai Mask rarely wore his mask. He instinctively traced his jawline.
"Exactly. With a face that rivals Aomori's, you're already miles ahead of the competition. Singing and dancing can be taught, but natural beauty like yours is rare. Out of curiosity, you haven't had any plastic surgery, have you?"
"No, never." Amai Mask was certain he had never set foot in a clinic. In truth, he didn't even understand why his appearance had changed.
"That's perfect. With such innate talent, combined with your status as an A-Class hero and your immense strength, you are practically a carbon copy of Chairman Aomori."
Glancing at his reflection in the window, Amai Mask murmured, "A carbon copy of the Chairman? Does this mean... I can get closer to him?"
"Of course! Trust us, it won't be long before you skyrocket to fame and become the most popular star since Aomori himself!"
"Fine. I accept." To be closer to Chairman Aomori, Amai Mask was willing to step into the spotlight. "But on one condition: you must not restrict my hero activities."
"That goes without saying. We've stated clearly in the contract that we will never interfere with your duties as a hero."
"We brought the contract with us. Take a look, and if everything is in order, you can sign it."
Amai Mask took the document, scanned the clauses carefully, and signed his name.
"Welcome to the Century Agency family. From now on, we're one team."
"First, we need to polish your brand. 'Amai Mask' is a bit too... mysterious for a stage name. How about something more appealing? What do you think of 'Handsome Mask'?"
"Handsome Mask? Isn't that a bit too blunt?" Amai Mask shook his head.
"That's exactly why it works! Or perhaps... Sweet Mask?"
"Sweet Mask, then." Choosing between the two, Amai Mask preferred the latter.
"Done."
And so, Amai Mask officially became Sweet Mask.
"Moving forward, we'll provide you with a professional management team to handle your schedule. For now, your priority is winning the Title Hero election. It will be a massive boost for your debut."
"Look, the results for the Preliminaries have been posted."
On a Laptop screen, they saw the list of heroes advancing to the Semifinals.
"You're ranked second. That's an excellent result, you're only 35 votes behind the first-place candidate, Mumen Rider."
"There's no helping that. Mumen Rider's popularity has surged recently. After all, he's the hero who saved an entire city."
Amai Mask wasn't bothered by being second. He asked, "Why didn't you approach him? Mumen Rider fits your criteria too, doesn't he?"
The two scouts smiled. "Someone else already reached out to him. But he seems solely focused on hero work; he's turned down quite a few offers."
"In my view, both paths are valid. While focusing on hero work helps people directly, becoming a big star allows you to expand your influence and inspire more people to embrace Justice. I'm sure Chairman Aomori felt the same way."
"I see." Amai Mask admitted he was swayed. He truly wanted to spread his ideal of justice to as many people as possible.
"The Semifinals last for five days. We will use that time to push your publicity and secure more support. The title of Justice will undoubtedly be yours."
"I'll leave it in your hands, then." Amai Mask finished his coffee in one go.
After the bitterness came the sweetness.
…
"Alright, I understand. See you then." Mumen Rider hung up his phone.
"Mumen-senpai, who was that?" Glasses asked, looking up from his computer.
"Saitama. He wants to celebrate us all making the cut. He's hosting another hot pot party and says he has something 'amazing' to show us."
"Fine. Who's buying the groceries?"
"He is."
"Wait, what? Is the sun rising in the west?" Glasses felt a disturbance in the force.
"He sounded very happy. Almost like... he wanted to show off?" Mumen said.
"Heh, now I'm actually curious to see what he's got."
"I'll call Fubuki and see if she can make it." After a brief call, Mumen hung up. "Fubuki is celebrating with her friends. She won't be coming, so it's just us."
"Fair enough."
The two waited a while before heading out. When they arrived at Saitama's place, they were immediately met with complaints.
"You guys are too slow! I've been waiting forever!" Saitama looked like he was about to burst with excitement.
He really is like a kid with a new toy, Glasses thought. "So, where's this 'amazing' thing?"
"Hold your horses. Watch the pot; I'll go get it." Saitama dashed into his bedroom and slammed the door.
"Mumen-senpai, what do you think it is?"
"Maybe... a robot?" Mumen recalled Saitama being obsessed with them once.
"My money is on some limited edition manga merch," Glasses guessed.
After about five minutes, Saitama emerged with his own self-made entrance music.
"Ta-da! The Cape of Justice arrives!"
Saitama was wearing his brand-new hero uniform, striking poses in front of his friends. He had already spent an hour admiring himself in the mirror earlier; he felt that with this suit, he finally looked like a 'real' hero. He couldn't wait to share his joy.
"So this was the surprise." Mumen looked at the transformed Saitama and gave him a thumbs up. "Truth be told, that suit really suits you. You look very heroic."
"Right? I think so too!" Saitama was beaming. "I hope I don't get a fan club too soon. That would be such a hassle."
"Is it just me, or does something feel off?" Glasses rubbed his chin. "I feel like the hair is getting in the way. Maybe you should shave your head?"
"My hair?" Saitama squinted at him. "You're just jealous of my looks. I'm not falling for that."
"Suit yourself."
After the antics, Saitama changed into loungewear and carefully tucked his uniform away. The trio then turned to the main event: hot pot.
"A toast to us all making it to the Semifinals!"
"And may we all win our titles!"
"Cheers!"
Saitama downed a large glass of soda and let out a satisfied sigh. "Ah, that's the stuff! Life is good now. Can you believe that six months ago I was an unemployed guy who could barely afford rent?"
"Three months ago, you were still broke when I met you," Glasses laughed. "I honestly thought you were some hidden master living as a hermit to hone your spirit. Hahaha!"
"A hidden master? Glasses, even with four eyes, you missed the mark on that one," Saitama teased. "I was just flat broke. Things only turned around after I joined the Hero Association. I never knew you could actually make a living as a hero."
"To the Hero Association!" Mumen raised his glass.
"To Chairman Aomori!"
"Cheers!"
After some food, Glasses brought up the election. "The Semifinals should be easy for us. The real challenge is the Grand Finale. I wonder what kind of trials they'll set?"
"I don't think it will be a pure contest of strength," Mumen said. "The gap between heroes is too large for that."
"True. For the Seven Heavenly Virtues, it might involve Q&A sessions or moral tests," Glasses speculated.
"Please, no... exams are the worst," Saitama groaned. "I applied for Hope. Maybe it's about never giving up in the face of despair? They might test our resolve."
"That makes sense!" Glasses pushed up his glasses, the lenses reflecting the light. "If that's the case, Diligence might require doing a task non-stop for a long period?"
"And Justice? Maybe they'll see if we return found money?" Mumen suggested.
"That's a bit too simple, but the logic holds; it'll likely be about resisting temptation."
"Forget it, let's just deal with it when it comes."
"Good point."
With that, they returned their focus to the boiling pot, initiating a fierce battle for the last meatballs.
…
Hero Association Headquarters, Underground Research Lab
"So? Any results?"
After Dr. Genus finished his research on the Amadam Spirit Stone, Aomori gave him a new task: analyzing biological samples from Pidgeot.
"Yes, but the findings are... hard to believe." Dr. Genus looked disheveled, his eyes bloodshot from a lack of sleep.
"Almost none of its genetic data matches anything in the global biological database. It even contains multiple unknown elements. Do you know what this means? The sample you gave me likely originates from another planet, or perhaps another world entirely."
"Could it be a monster's DNA? Monsters undergo mutations, after all," Aomori asked.
"No, this is different!" Genus explained. "Monster DNA is just a modification of existing structures. Most of it still matches the database."
"I see. Any other discoveries?"
"I cultured a piece of tissue from the blood samples. It possesses incredible plasticity; it adapts and changes almost instantly based on its environment. When I introduced an electrical current, the cells underwent a massive leap in biological complexity. It's a miraculous life form."
Is that... Evolution? He actually figured it out. He really is a genius. Aomori nodded calmly. "Can you culture a full specimen from the samples?"
"It's possible, but... are you sure about this?" Genus was wary. He didn't want to accidentally open Pandora's Box.
"You're in the basement of the Hero Association Headquarters. What could go wrong? Proceed with the research."
"Understood." Having Aomori's backing made Genus relax. To a scientist, fresh, groundbreaking research was always a delight.
"I'll have Armored Gorilla come help you. He's shown genuine remorse, so I'm granting him a conditional release."
"Oh. Better than nothing, I suppose." Genus was indifferent. He personally preferred bio-soldiers like Carnage Kabuto or the Beast King, but a familiar face was fine, as talking to his own clones was starting to feel weird.
"By the way," Aomori added, "I recall you have a technology for restoring youth, correct?"
The Association had many veteran heroes like Bang and Bomb, as well as the newly joined Dr. Kuseno. If they could be restored to their prime, they could serve the Association for much longer. Unfortunately, Aomori hadn't found the specific data for that technology among the spoils of war.
"Chairman, I know what you're thinking, but I'm afraid I haven't fully mastered that technology."
"Oh?" Aomori raised an eyebrow.
Genus sighed. "In truth, my own rejuvenation was something of an accident. I mixed two reagents by mistake and produced a serum that regressed my age. No matter how many times I've tried to replicate it since, I've failed. Sometimes... I feel like that serum was a gift from a god, giving me a new life when I was at my most desperate."
"A gift from a god?" Aomori narrowed his eyes.
"I know it sounds strange, but it's the truth."
"Don't be nervous. I didn't say I didn't believe you. Keep up the good work. If a 'god' sees you using your second life to help the world, I'm sure they'd be pleased." Aomori patted him on the shoulder.
"Er... right."
Returning to his office, Aomori's expression turned grim.
God really is everywhere. Was Marugori's transformation his doing too?
Aomori remained highly vigilant against the entity that was likely the final boss of this world. Now that he was the leader of the heroes, he was almost certainly being watched.
Looking at the bright moonlight streaming through the window, Aomori frowned and pulled the curtains shut, sealing the room in darkness.