Days have passed since the Dieppe incident.
Multiple cities had returned back to normal.
Streets murmured with tourists snapping selfies by the Seine.
Shops reopened, restaurants crowded with people and streets bustled.
Adventurer inside the Guild's Tavern were watching a talk show on the TV:
Royd Sargent sat on the plush red couch, one ankle crossed over his knee, flashing that smirk of his at the camera.
The talk show host, a lively woman named Idette Voclain with perfect teeth and a clipboard clutched between her hands, leaned forward eagerly.
Behind them, a live audience sat attentively in the warmly lit studio, the hum of quiet anticipation filling the indoor space.
"Royd, it's an absolute honor to have you here on Étoiles du Matin," Idette gushed, her voice warm and engaging.
"You single-handedly ended the Triple-S threat Godzilla monster in Dieppe."
"The footage of that slash, it went for miles! How does it feel being France's savior?"
In the dimly lit Guild's Tavern, a group of adventurers hunched over their mugs of ale, eyes glued to the flickering screen mounted on the wall.
The room was filled with tankards and low murmur of conversations.
Among them was Marcel Dubois, a grizzled Low A-Rank assassin with a fresh scar across his cheek from the Dieppe fight.
He gripped his tankard tightly, his knuckles whitening as Royd's face filled the screen.
Royd chuckled, running a hand through his perfectly tousled red hair.
"Savior? Nah, I was just on vacation when the Association reached out and said they needed a hand."
"I figured, why not step in? I've dealt with threats like that before, but this one was particularly nasty, with its size and regeneration abilities."
"It's what any capable Adventurer would do in that situation."
The audience on TV applauded politely, nodding in appreciation. But in the tavern, a chorus of grumbles erupted.
"Savior my ass. That bastard swoops in at the last second and acts like he did it all!" One of them snarled a Upper A-Rank adventurer named Ace, slamming his fist on the wooden table.
"We were out there for like what? An hour? Hour of bleeding while that thing tore through the city. And now he's the 'savior'?"
A wiry woman with a bow slung over her shoulder, an Low S-Rank archer called Médée, snorted derisively.
"We lost hundreds of adventurers before he even showed up. If he arrived sooner, maybe we'd have fewer funerals."
Marcel leaned forward, his voice low, eyes narrowed at the screen. "Top-21 Z-Rank or not, he's just a glory hog who lets the grunts do the dirty work."
Idette laughed, adjusting her clipboard. "Modest as always! But tell us-you're Top-21 Z-Rank globally. Are you planning on climbing the ranks?" She winked at the camera.
Royd leaned back. "Climb up the ranks? No, I don't plan on doing that in the future."
"Besides, there are already a few powerful individuals I have in mind that are probably impossible to reach."
"You know, those top tiers aren't just about raw power; they've got experience, strategy, and alliances that make them untouchable."
"Take someone like Akira in the Top-14-he's not only got speed and precision, but he's a genius revolutionized adbenturer tactics with his tech integrations."
"Or Elena, who's mastered elemental control to a degree."
"I've sparred with a couple of them in training sessions, and it's clear: surpassing them would require more than just taking big monsters."
"It'd mean rewriting the rules of what a Z-Ranker can do, and honestly, I'm content pushing my limits in other ways."
"The rankings are a benchmark, sure, but they're not the endgame for me."
He paused, his expression thoughtful, as if mentally reviewing those elite figures he'd never surpass.
Idette nodded her head.
The air in the tavern grew thick, the glow of the TV screen casting long shadows over their frustrated faces.
Idette continued to ask a few more questions, the studio lights dimming slightly while Royd answered them one by one.
Meanwhile, Loki's day unfolded like a literal replay button that has been happening for him for the past few days.
He woke up on the couch-same spot he sleep last night, throw some pillow mashed against his face.
No alarm, just the sun slanting through the windows.
He stretched, bones popping, and shuffled to the bathroom.
He toothbrushed, put some mint paste, scrub it, rinse then spit.
Mirror reflection: dark hair messy, bright blue eyes with a slight boredom, same as yesterday.
Changed clothes: dark jacket over a plain shirt, black trousers.
Kitchen: eggs scrambled with whatever was in the fridge (some cheese, some wilting spinach, and a dash of hot sauce).
He ate while standing up, staring out the window at the lively streets down below.
People laughed, cars honked from traffics, a street musician played some accordion.
Paris was back alive and kicking.
Then, he went out for a walk. Hands in his pockets, headphones in, listening to some random playlist.
That's when the monster showed up.
An E-rank beast threat-some scaly, dog-sized thing with too many teeth.
Appeared from a sewer grate near the Champs de Mars.
It snarled, knocking over a hot dog cart, sending some hotdogs flying up in the air.
It was kinda a waste so Loki use some of his powers, hotdogs flew straight into his mouth.
People screamed, scattering in all directions.
Loki paused mid-step, pulling one headphone out while eating the hotdog with his other arm.
The monster giving him a death stare, drool dripping from its jaws.
It charged towards him.
He let out a sigh. Stepped aside casually, dodging the beast like some slow pedestrian.
The beast flew past, crashing into a lamppost.
He popped the headphone back in.
A group of low-rank adventurers-E or D, by the look of their gear-rushed in from a side street, weapons drawn. "We got this!" one shouted heroically.
Loki kept walking, Ignoring the sounds of spells firing and the monster's yelps.
It's someone else's problem, not his.
At lunch at the corner of the restaurant
Some steak frites as his dish.
He ate alone at a window table, scrolling his phone-memes, video game announcements, some brainrots video he randomly found on the reels.
The door opened with a jingle.
Loki didn't look up at first-why would he?