After contacting the Hero Association and confirming that an ambulance was on its way, I also reported that the monster had been defeated. By the time I finished the call, Mizuki had already walked over to me.
"Garou-senpai, you're absolutely incredible!" — suddenly adding a title to my name that until now had only been bestowed upon S-Class heroes, the girl stared wide-eyed at the headless four-armed monster lying on the asphalt. "What kind of insane training regimen does it take to achieve that kind of strength?"
"It's not about strength, it's about technique." — I shook my head with a smirk. "You know, everyone is strong in their own way. For example, it's completely beyond me how much effort it takes to magically turn a medal into a throwing disc, or an ordinary relay baton into a weapon..."
"I don't know either." — smiling broadly in return, Mizuki picked up that same medal from the ground and began attaching it back to its ribbon. "But what I did learn today for certain — two things."
"Oh? Do tell."
"The first — I want to be a hero." — meeting my gaze, the girl's expression turned serious in an instant. "Until now I was still uncertain about whether to give up my athletic career, but now I'm sure. That monster — if there hadn't been any heroes here — could have killed dozens, maybe hundreds of people who were completely helpless against it. If my strength exists for any purpose, it's to save them."
"Setting aside all the bonuses, that's why people become heroes in the first place." — I gave an understanding grunt. "And?"
"The second — it's too early for me to be doing hero work." — lowering her gaze, Mizuki shook her head. "Sorry, partner, for abandoning you so suddenly, on the very first day. But it's probably the right call. Right now I'm only holding you back."
"..." — having no desire to state the obvious, I simply spread my hands.
"And that's exactly why I'm going to take a break from patrols and other hero work for now." — Mizuki energetically bent her arm at the elbow and clenched her fist. "I'll train as hard as I can endure and I will definitely get stronger — to defeat even more dangerous monsters and protect even more people. I'm sorry again!" — bowing sharply, she nearly hit me in the face with her hair.
"Well, I won't try to talk you out of it." — shrugging, I took out my phone and smiled. "But we can at least exchange numbers, right?"
"Of course." — straightening up and smiling back, my now apparently former partner snatched the device from my hand and started rapidly tapping the touchscreen buttons. Finishing, she handed the phone back and, growing barely noticeably flustered, averted her gaze somewhere to the side. "I hope that by the time I finish my training cycle, you'll be a little older when we meet again. Because if Silver Fang-senpai hadn't mentioned that his best student was only sixteen, I would have..."
"That old geezer!" — nearly crushing the phone in my hand from a sudden surge of indignation, I nevertheless restrained myself and put it in my pocket. "So when it comes to enjoying his own youth and parading whole crowds of girls around, he's the first in line — but for me it's this kind of setup?! I'll..."
The ambulance that arrived a few minutes later found at the scene of the recent battle: one unconscious A-Class hero in moderate condition. One laughing heroine of B-Class, assuring everyone that "senpai meant well" and had probably saved her from trouble. And one very displeased hero of the same B-Class, who was hurling curses in the direction of the tallest mountain in the city and threatening to demolish the dojo situated there...
The rest of the day passed without incident. Having accompanied the vehicle carrying Mizuki and the unconscious hero to the hospital, I left them both there. My former partner had no serious injuries, but getting checked for internal damage wouldn't hurt — nor would treating her minor cuts and scrapes. As for Kong the Heavyweight, he had at least a couple of weeks ahead of him under medical supervision. Heroes were stronger, tougher, and more resilient than ordinary people, but healing serious injuries still took time.
As for me, I spent a while longer on patrol, but realizing that nothing more interesting was likely to happen that day, I attended to personal matters. First and foremost — moving out of the orphanage and into a rented property: a small single-story house, the funds for which the Association had provided just the day before. Along with money for purchasing everything necessary for daily life. Furniture, food, household appliances like a refrigerator, and a personal computer. My first one, in this life.
Using the almighty power of the internet, I quickly found both local news about today's monster attack and more interesting things — like various forums where people discussed heroes, monsters, and everything related. My debut hadn't caused much of a stir, which was hardly surprising given the initially announced Tiger threat level. And yet, photos and videos of our battle against the boxer were circulating online. The cameras of this world, while far more advanced than those of my previous life, still struggled somewhat to keep up with the speed of Demon-level creatures. So while Mizuki's battle against the Boxer was fairly spectacular to watch, my brief skirmish looked something like this to the viewer: I suddenly appeared in front of the monster, he started shouting and seemingly even wound up for a punch — and then died.
That said, the power of the internet shouldn't be underestimated. It took the users of the largest forum no more than half an hour to dox me and establish that I was Silver Fang's student. Well, I could only envy those guys and their amount of free time... incidentally, while the majority had already begun arguing about how quickly I would climb to the top of B-Class and then A-Class, a certain minority was wishing for my swift death solely because I was working alongside such a beauty... yeah, I think that's enough internet for today...
I had barely closed all my browser tabs — leaving only the one playing music — when suddenly the doorbell rang. Considering I had only moved in literally a few hours ago, it was very interesting to wonder who it could be...
"B-CLASS HERO, RANK 96, GAROU! WE KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE, COME OUT!" — before I even managed to get up from the armchair I had been lazily sprawled in, someone's deafeningly loud male voice called to me from beyond the door. "B-CLASS HERO, RANK 1 — HELLISH BLIZZARD WISHES TO SPEAK WITH YOU!"
"Ohhh... already?" — a crooked smile crossed my face. "The local hero mafia, led by one of the two main wives, has come for my head? The day just keeps getting more interesting..."
Getting to my feet, I walked quickly to the front door and pulled it open. On the threshold, as expected, stood two men in clean black suits. One shorter, with a long braid down his back. The other taller and broader — some variety of bruiser, with an enormous chin.
They held little interest for me, however. Which couldn't be said of the young, tall girl who had only just stepped out of the car parked in front of my new home. She had bright blue-green hair cut in a bob and matching green eyes. A long white fur coat, a green form-fitting dress, black thigh-high boots... all of it, combined with an expression of supreme arrogance, created the image of a genuinely wealthy and stunning beauty.
"Pleased to meet you, newcomer." — gliding unhurriedly toward my wide-open door, the girl stopped between her parted attendants. "I am Hellish Blizzard Fubuki — you understand why I'm here, correct?"
"Hm, for a call girl you're dressed far too expensively. You don't look like delivery people either." — affecting a labored thinking process on my face, I then struck my palm with my fist. "Of course! You must be..."
"You piece of trash!" — they didn't let me finish the joke. The shorter of the two attendants stepped forward and shoved his rage-contorted face right up close to mine. "This is Lady Fubuki. She is rank 1 in B-Class! I'll explain it in terms you can understand. The first thing rookies do when they enter B-Class is show respect to Lady Fubuki. Is that clear?!"
"I'll make it even clearer." — cutting off her subordinate, Fubuki herself spoke up, having first subjected me to a deliberately contemptuous look and folded her arms across her substantial chest. "The world of professional heroes is harsh. Today, if the news is to be believed, you performed admirably. But if you remain a loner — if you don't join a serious group — you won't last long. You won't be able to raise your rank. And in the end you'll give it all up and go back to living as an ordinary person... work for me, Garou, and your rank will have nothing to fear."
"Just for reference." — amused by how childishly transparent her threats sounded, I shook my head. "Does your little gang drop in on every new hero like this?"
"Only those I deem worthy." — frowning, Fubuki pursed her lips. "So what's your answer?"
"No thanks." — waving her off, I deliberately slowly reached for the door handle to close it. "I'll manage on my own."
Fubuki's face changed in an instant. All the restraint and seriousness — along with the affected pomposity — vanished somewhere. All that remained was a face twisted with fury.
"You two!"
"Yes, my lady!"
"Show him what happens when someone refuses me!"
In the same second, the two lackeys — mismatched in every way — lunged straight at me. One with his fists, the other with something resembling an eyelash curler.
Having no desire to use my fighting style's techniques on weaklings like these, I simply stepped toward them. Grabbed the big one by the neck, spun sharply around myself — using his body to knock the second attacker off his feet — then sent them both sliding down the street with a powerful kick.
"You know, Fubuki, people used to tell me long ago that you can't hit a woman." — stepping right up to the girl before she had time to register that her attendants were defeated, I demonstratively cracked my knuckles. "But the wiser ones always added: 'but if a woman raises her hand against you, she's no longer a woman — she's a sparring partner.' You understand where I'm going with this?"
The clenched fist drove into the stomach of Fubuki, who only had time to gasp.
I hadn't hit particularly hard, and there was clearly some kind of energy barrier around the girl's body — so instead of being driven clean through, Hellish Blizzard simply folded in half and, mouth silently open, flew across to the opposite side of the street...