"…You're serious? Just give it to him?"
The staff member stared at his superior, clearly caught off guard.
The executive didn't even look up from the footage.
"He already meets the S-Class threshold. Why wouldn't we?"
He tapped the screen lightly, where Noah's effortless takedowns looped in silent replay.
"Monster activity is rising. Ten years ago, we'd see one major incident every few months. Now we're dealing with hundreds—sometimes thousands—every month. And they're getting stronger."
He finally glanced over.
"But our top-tier heroes? That number hasn't kept pace."
The implication hung in the air.
"We need people like him," the executive continued. "Or would you rather send our existing S-Class heroes to fight each other just to test him?"
The staff member hesitated.
There were… other concerns.
Collateral damage. Civilian risk. The fact that Noah had already put two licensed heroes through the floor like misplaced furniture.
But then again—
S-Class heroes weren't exactly known for clean records.
Some of them bent the law. Some outright ignored it.
And the Association still kept them.
Because power, at that level, came first.
"…Understood," the staff member said finally. "I'll notify the branch."
Back in Z-City—
Noah sat casually in the middle of the lobby, one leg crossed over the other, like he had all day.
He was already mapping things out.
If I push this the old-fashioned way… no external boosts… I'd probably stall around the upper S-Class range. Maybe top five, depending on matchups.
That was assuming a straight climb.
Not accounting for… outliers.
He didn't dwell on that.
Footsteps approached.
A staff member hurried over, posture noticeably more respectful than before.
"Sir," he said with a careful smile, "we've reviewed your request. After consideration, the Association has decided to grant you S-Class status immediately."
Around the room, every reincarnator froze.
That worked?
"We've assigned you Rank 17 within S-Class," the staff member continued. "Your position can be improved through continued contributions and successful missions."
Noah raised an eyebrow.
"Seventeenth? So I'm starting at the bottom."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Can I move up by beating the guys above me?"
The staff member nearly broke into a sweat.
"Ah… no. Rankings are adjusted based on your performance against threats. Primarily monsters."
"Got it."
Noah waved it off.
"In that case, I'll stick with the name Nemesis."
"No problem at all."
The registration went through instantly.
And with it—
A familiar presence stirred in Noah's mind.
Primary Objective: Completed.
You have aligned with the Hero faction.
Additional directives followed.
They weren't rigid commands. More like pressure points—subtle nudges pushing him forward.
One encouraged advancement. Rise through the ranks. Prove dominance.
The faster he climbed, the greater the payoff.
Another focused on conflict. Hunt monsters. Eliminate threats. Compete, even, with others walking similar paths.
There were risks attached now.
Deadlines. Consequences.
Nothing immediate—but enough to make standing still… a bad idea.
Noah exhaled softly.
So that's the game.
Participate, grow stronger.
Sit out, get left behind.
Simple.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"I like it."
He looked back at the staff member.
"Alright. One problem—I don't have a place to stay. Or money."
"Not an issue," the man replied quickly. "S-Class heroes are eligible for advance payments and housing arrangements. We can set you up immediately."
"Good," Noah said, standing. "Lead the way."
The staff member nodded eagerly, shifting roles from official representative to something closer to a personal assistant.
They headed for the exit—
Then Noah stopped.
"Oh, right."
He turned and pointed toward the corner.
A cluster of very familiar faces sat there, trying their best to look invisible.
"They're with me," Noah said. "Strong group. Same situation as me—no paperwork, no records. Can you fast-track their evaluations?"
The staff member blinked.
"…All of them?"
That was a lot of "all."
Before he could process it further—
Movement exploded behind Noah.
"Boss!!"
One man slid forward across the floor with impressive commitment, stopping just short of Noah's side.
He clasped his hands together.
"Pleasure to meet you, sir. I'm his number one guy—Iron Fist Tiger. Looking forward to working with you."
Another immediately followed.
"Number two here. Blackheart War God. Big fan."
"I'm number three—"
"Number six—"
"I'm basically family—"
"He's like an uncle to me—"
"More like a godfather, honestly—"
The flood didn't stop.
Dignity? Gone.
Pride? Optional.
Opportunity? Right in front of them.
Even Ivanov—
The same man who had stood at the top of the rankings—
Quietly stepped forward.
"…Number six," he said, voice steady.
No one questioned it.
The staff member stared at the scene, caught somewhere between confusion and surrender.
"…I can… submit a request," he said slowly. "We might be able to arrange a special evaluation later today."
"Perfect," Noah said, satisfied.
Several hours later, the Hero Association realized something unsettling.
Every single one of Noah's "friends"—
Every last one—
Tested at least A-Class level.
Some… higher.
The report landed on a desk at headquarters with a single note scribbled across the top:
Where did he find these people?
...
Read up to 100 chapters ahead and access exclusive novels by joining my Patreon!
patreon.com/Zyxxar