"To all our viewers at home, welcome to the Hero Channel! Today, we will be bringing you live, wall-to-wall coverage of this grand event: the Seven Heavenly Virtues Title Match!" a male host announced enthusiastically.
"First, let's welcome the man known as the 'Hero-logist,' Goldie-sensei, to serve as our commentator for this event. A round of applause, please!"
"Hello everyone, I'm your dearest Goldie! It's great to see you all again. I've missed you to death!"
"Hahaha, Goldie-sensei is as humorous as ever. Now, we have ten minutes before the official start. Why don't you give everyone a quick breakdown of the event?"
"Certainly." Goldie cleared his throat. "What we are broadcasting today is the Grand Finale. In the previous Preliminaries, ten heroes were selected for each title. After five days of Semifinal vetting, not a single person was disqualified. Every hero has advanced. That means for each title we see today, ten heroes will be competing."
"The fact that everyone passed the vetting proves that the audience has sharp eyes, and they've chosen top-notch heroes. It also shows that the Hero Association's internal character-building is spot on. They truly live up to the name of 'Hero'."
"Indeed. Especially the heroes in this finale—they are the cream of the crop. I feel the Association could just award them all a 'Top Ten' title right now."
"So, Goldie-sensei, which hero are you rooting for the most?"
"The one I'm most optimistic about is, of course, the currently red-hot Sweet Mask," Goldie blurted out without hesitation. "He's been signed by Century Agency as Chairman Aomori's junior, and he's already been labeled as Aomori's successor. Have you noticed? You see news about him in the papers every single day. That's Century Agency building momentum. He has the popularity, the strength, and the capital backing him. You tell me, how does he lose?"
"When you put it that way, Sweet Mask does seem to have a massive advantage. However, I think Tanktop Master and Mumen Rider, whose popularity is also quite high, are still very competitive."
"No, those two won't do." Goldie shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. "Their foundation can't compare to Sweet Mask. They're destined to be runners-up. Let me put it this way: if Sweet Mask doesn't take this title, I'll shave my head bald!"
"Whoa, Goldie-sensei, that's a bit extreme..."
"No! I'm making a bet with the audience! If Sweet Mask fails to win, I'm going bald!" Goldie was dead set.
Seeing this, the host said, "Goldie-sensei is so confident that I can't be rude. I believe in him! If Sweet Mask doesn't win, I'll shave my head too!"
"Good brother! Loyal!"
"Alright, the time is almost here. Let's look at the situation on the ground."
The camera cut to Hero's Starting Ground, where the Title Match was being held.
"Oh! As you can see, the venue is packed! Fans are everywhere with banners to cheer on their favorite heroes. As Goldie-sensei predicted, the largest group in the center are Sweet Mask's supporters. It's incredible that he has this much popularity just days after his debut as a star."
"Of course. I'd bet that Sweet Mask will take the mantle from Chairman Aomori and, starting today, dominate the entire entertainment industry."
"Yeah, handsome, strong, and a hero, who wouldn't love a superstar like that?" the host added. "The contestants should all be present by now. Let's head to our field reporter!"
The camera switched to the front of the contestants' locker rooms. A cute, round-faced female reporter stood there with a microphone. "Good morning, everyone! We are here at the Title Match arena, outside the locker rooms. We can see seven rooms here, each with a title name on the door. Let's check on the contestants from left to right."
She headed for the Hope locker room first.
"Wait, do you smell that? That familiar aroma is..." The reporter knocked twice, said "Excuse me," and pushed the door open.
The room wasn't large, and she took in the scene instantly. There was a long table in the center with ten contestants sitting on either side. Most of them had drifting gazes and subtle expressions as they looked at one man in particular. He was hunched over a cup of noodles, eating with a fervor that was nothing short of a battle.
The unique aroma of instant noodles filled the room.
Sensing the strange atmosphere, the reporter waved her hand. "Hello! I'm a reporter from the Hero Channel. May I have a brief interview?"
"Sure, sure," the heroes nodded.
"Let's go one by one. First, let's talk to this handsome guy eating noodles." She thrust the mic toward him. "You are the contestant Saitama, right? Why are you eating instant noodles here?"
"Uh, yeah. I'm Saitama." Being cornered by the camera, Saitama, wearing his yellow hero suit, felt a bit embarrassed. He stirred the broth slowly with his chopsticks and replied, "Why am I eating? Because I'm hungry. I haven't had breakfast yet."
"Oh." The reporter realized she had asked a stupid question. She stuck her tongue out playfully and asked, "You don't seem nervous at all. Is it because you're fully confident about the upcoming competition?"
"Not really. I know nothing about the challenges, so I'm actually pretty panicked."
"What are your expectations for your performance?"
"Since I'm here, I want to win."
"Contestant Saitama is quite ambitious! Good luck!" The reporter gave a thumbs-up and moved on. "Contestant Suiryu, you are a favorite to win. Tell me..."
Seeing her move away, Saitama breathed a sigh of relief. He glanced at the remaining broth, secretly picked up the cup, and drained it in one go with a satisfied exhale.
"These pickled mustard beef noodles are actually pretty good."
However, a few minutes later, his stomach began to churn as if a Deep Sea King was throwing a tantrum inside. His face turned pale instantly.
"I need a toilet..."
…
In a residential area of Z-City, a couple was watching the live broadcast on their laptop.
"Ah! Sweet Mask is so handsome!"
"Tsk, sissy. That's not handsome. Someone like Tanktop Master is the real deal."
"My Sweetie is an A-Class hero! How is he a sissy? He could beat your Tanktop Master with one hand!"
"Don't be ridiculous! The Master is the pinnacle of the Tanktop army; Sweet Mask isn't fit to lace his boots!"
"You… you're yelling at me! You don't love me anymore! Is there another woman?!"
"..."
Just as a domestic dispute was about to erupt, a rift suddenly tore open in the space behind them. Two orbs of light flew out and merged into their bodies. Their expressions instantly underwent a world-shaking transformation.
"What? I ended up in a woman's body? What a pain." The woman frowned, touching her own chest.
"No. 18, stop complaining. It's functional enough. Let's finish the Lord's orders first."
"I know, No. 17."
"Blast and his group are trapped. They won't be back for at least three months. In the meantime, we must let the Lord's glory cover the earth again."
"Three months? It won't take more than a few days to wipe out all humans. Their strength is pathetic," No. 18 said dismissively.
"Don't be careless. Who knows if there are others as strong as Blast?" No. 17 cautioned.
"So what if there are?" No. 18 laughed wildly. "We've received the Lord's blessing. Having abandoned our frail flesh, we are now immortal. Even Blast could only seal us; he couldn't kill us. The people here are nothing. We are invincible!"
"Even so, we must act steadily. This concerns the Lord; we can't take risks," No. 17 said calmly. "If the spatial barriers hadn't weakened, we wouldn't have been able to cross over. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
"Tsk, fine." Since No. 17 invoked the Lord's name, No. 18 backed down. "You're one rank higher, so you call the shots. What's next?"
"First, we reclaim the pawns the Lord placed and complete the sacrifice as soon as possible," No. 17 explained.
"You can handle that yourself," No. 18 smirked. "I'm going to do something more fun. For example, kidnapping those close to Blast. When he returns, I want him on his knees before me! Hahaha!"
Is she still bitter about getting beaten by Blast once? Her mindset is weak. But letting her cause trouble will draw attention away from my tasks, No. 17 thought. He nodded and pretended to be helpless. "Fine, do what you want, but don't be too loud, okay?"
"Relax, I know."
"Then I'm off." No. 17 sank into the floor as if melting and vanished.
Once No. 17's presence faded, No. 18 sneered. "Coward. Once I defeat Blast, the thorn in the Lord's side, my seat will rise several ranks. Let's see you try to boss me around then!"
"Now, who is Blast closest to?" She glanced at the laptop still playing the broadcast, a smirk playing on her lips. "I haven't done this in a while... maybe I'll play a few games first."
She clumsily opened a browser, and after some fumbling, she got the hang of it. She searched for and downloaded the most popular competitive game.
"Mere humans, watch me crush you!" No. 18 grinned.
Half an hour later, looking at her 0-20 score, No. 18 began to question her existence.
"Impossible! How? Mere humans actually won against me?!"
A rage flared in her heart. CRACK! The computer screen shattered instantly. The cracked black screen reflected her demonic expression.
"Who? Who was it? I'll kill you if it's the last thing I do!" She instantly added her previous opponent to the second spot on her hit list.
Since she didn't have the ability to track someone through the internet, she redirected her fury toward Blast.
"Blast, who are your people?" She searched her phone, and a name appeared repeatedly.
"Tatsumaki... is it you? I see. Tornado of Terror, your inseparable partner. Perfect. Where is she?" She searched again and smiled. "Found you."
The screen was playing footage of Tornado. No. 18 gripped the phone, and with a flash of light, she crashed through the window and vanished like a shooting star.
…
In a spacious room far away, a burly man with long blonde hair watched his screen. His hands moved like a phantom.
"K.O.!"
"Eh? Why did they stop fighting? Did they disconnect?" He sighed in disappointment. "I finally found an opponent that took a little effort..."
"Whatever. Back to my Doki Doki Sisters game."
…
At Hero's Starting Ground, the arena had become a sea of roaring excitement.
The host's voice boomed: "As you can see, following Chairman Aomori's speech and his long-awaited performance, the audience has gone wild! This proves the Chairman's absolute dominance. Wherever he appears, all other stars fade into the background."
"Yes! This also proves that as his successor, Sweet Mask has a limitless future!" The 'Aomori-stan' Goldie didn't miss a beat.
"Goldie-sensei, all the judges are in their seats. Some might not be familiar to us. Could you explain?"
"No problem. Besides Chairman Aomori and four S-Class heroes, we have four heavyweights. Seated to the left of Atomic Samurai is Nichirin-sama, leader of the Council of Swordmasters; he exceeds Atomic Samurai in both experience and skill. Next to Silver Fang is his older brother, Bomb, a legendary martial arts master. Beside Chairman Aomori is the current President of the Martial Arts Association. And as for the last one... well, he's a face we often see on the news, our most respected leader."
"Hahaha, indeed. It's incredible that this event attracted so many legends. The Hero Association has truly become a juggernaut."
"Now, the challenge for the first title is about to begin. According to the latest intel, each title will have only one round of challenges, and each contestant gets only one shot. This will test their composure."
"The first round is for the title of Hope. The contestants are entering the arena!"
Saitama was at the very end of the line. As he walked toward the center, he clutched his aching stomach, breaking into a cold sweat. I'm feeling weak... should I just forfeit?
Just as he was hesitating, a flaming streak like a meteor flew in from the distance and came to a bizarre halt mid-air.
As the light faded, No. 18's grim face was revealed to everyone. Her gaze instantly locked onto Tatsumaki's bored face, and a violent killing intent erupted.
She was just about to strike when a voice suddenly piped up from below her:
"Excuse me... what kind of bird-thing are you?"