[Hero? Or a Fraud Who Deceives the World?]
Yuki Asahi flipped through the newspaper spread before him—a special feature about himself.
In the end, he just laughed in frustration.
“What’s the meaning of this? Have I ever offended these reporters?”
Takaguchi brought a cup of tea over to Yuki, offering comfort.
“Don’t worry. All these publications have been intercepted.”
“Right now, there’s strict censorship on anything related to you.”
“Because this is the first time in decades the Self-Defense Forces have declared martial law, the media is cooperating more than usual.”
Yuki could understand the government’s approach.
There was no way they’d let some greenhorn steal the spotlight.
He didn’t want fame, nor did he want to be called a so-called hero.
Just having his reputation blow up at school was enough to exhaust him.
Under normal circumstances, Yuki was still that introverted kid.
Socializing drained his energy.
“Hello, Yuki-kun, this must be our first meeting. I’m Director Kawada Hou, head of the Operations Coordination Office.”
A sharp-looking blond man walked into the meeting room and extended his hand toward Yuki.
They shook hands.
“Although, for political reasons, your influence among the public is suppressed, to Tokushu Jishou Taiou Honbu and SAT-EX, you are a respected hero. We thank you for your efforts during those several incidents.”
Director Kawada bowed and continued, “To express our respect, your position at Tokuyōmoto Base will be as a Special Advisor, with a monthly stipend.”
“Eh…”
Yuki’s face flushed bright red as he waved his hand, stammering, “N-no need for that.”
“Don’t be modest, Yuki-kun. This is what you deserve.”
Yuki felt a bit touched. If anyone should be modest, it was Tokushu Jishou Taiou Honbu as a government organization—they were showing him such respect.
More importantly, they were offering money—and Yuki was pretty broke.
Once Kawada sat down, he got straight to the point.
“Currently, there are 321 registered superpowered individuals, mainly distributed across Chiyoda and several surrounding districts. The government originally planned to fund recruitment efforts to have as many as possible join Tokuyōmoto Base. We wanted to hear your thoughts on this.”
Because of the Hunter incident, Tokushu Jishou Taiou Honbu easily contacted those affected by the superpower awakening events—the ones they couldn’t contact were mostly dead.
“Uh… hmm, sounds good,” Yuki pondered for a long moment but had no real objections.
Even as a so-called Special Advisor, no one should expect a high schooler like him to offer valuable advice.
“Among these superpowered individuals, three have completed Chantui, and the rest are still in the Parasitic Larva Stage. In other words…”
Kawada sighed, “the risk of Devourer G going out of control still exists, and it’s significant.”
Since Dream Serpent and other seized personal terminals were locked, Tokushu Jishou Taiou Honbu identified Chantui users by questionnaires where subjects described their “heart bugs.”
The remaining 300-plus could still mutate into Devourer G.
Yuki felt the situation was serious and couldn’t help but ask, “Does Tokushu Jishou Taiou Honbu have any contingency plans for Devourer G?”
Kawada shook his head.
“Right now, we’re only increasing SAT-EX’s firepower, but that’s about it.”
That was a bit troublesome.
“If Devourer G appear in the future, we’ll be counting on you, Yuki-kun.” Kawada stood again and bowed.
Yuki parted his lips, but in the end, he didn’t refuse.
He lowered his head, sinking into gloom.
He felt that refusing would be somewhat irresponsible.
He didn’t know which pervert in a tight suit came up with the idea that “greater power means greater responsibility”—but with Tokushu Jishou Taiou Honbu sincerely asking, he couldn’t say no.
Looks like peaceful everyday life was off the table.
Yuki left Tokuyōmoto Base carrying an ID card and a folder.
A group passed him by, their eyes glued to Yuki.
Yuki didn’t notice at all, keeping his full attention on the two items in his hands.
“That boy is the legendary genius?”
“Feeling itchy hands? Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of time to spar in the future.”
***
The ID card was a temporary creation of Tokushu Jishou Taiou Honbu’s “Superpower Registry System” used for networked management and statistics—actually willing to use the internet; how ‘advanced.’
Inside the folder were stacks of cash, all crisp new ten-thousand-yen bills—over a hundred of them. Over a million yen?
It was Yuki’s first time holding so much money, and the entire folder felt almost hot to the touch.
On the train, he called Takaguchi to ask, “Did you give me too much?”
“No, part of it is the subsidy; the rest is your bonus.”
Yuki nervously hung up and sat back in his seat, occasionally glancing inside the folder.
He pulled out a bill, looked it over again and again, then finally stuffed it into his pocket.
After a long moment of daze, Yuki finally grasped the reality of holding such a ‘fortune.’
How should he spend it?
He recalled a date when Senior Ezumi dragged him shopping for clothes—yeah, he’d buy himself some more clothes.
The rest could just be saved.
In the North District, in front of a single-family house, the nameplate read: Amuro Residence.
Yuki inserted the key into the lock, turned it, and pulled the door open—light and faint noise from inside made him pause.
Are they back already?
He hesitated at the entrance.
He tiptoed, trying to soften his footsteps, like a shadow, wanting to quietly slip upstairs to his room.
Creak—
The living room door swung open, and a warm light filled the corridor, accompanied by the greasy smell of cooked food and men’s laughter.
Behind the door stood a black-haired woman holding a plate with leftover scraps.
Yuki’s body stiffened as he stopped at the foot of the stairs.
The woman’s eyes glanced over him but didn’t really focus on him.
She only lifted her chin toward the kitchen.
“We have guests. You eat in the kitchen.”
“Okay.”
After putting his bag away in his room, Yuki headed to the kitchen.
The sound of the refrigerator door opening and closing felt especially loud in the quiet.
He took out the pork he had cooked that morning, now completely cold, and put it in the microwave to heat.
Then, he opened his own little rice cooker and used a rice paddle to break up the hardened leftover rice.
Ding.
The microwave beeped.
He poured the steaming pork and oil onto the cold rice.
Head down, he eagerly scooped the shiny, oily grains into his mouth.
It smelled so good.
“Emi! Emi! Where did you run off to?”
A heavily intoxicated voice staggered through the hallway toward the kitchen.
A brown-haired man appeared at the kitchen door, his cheeks flushed red from drinking.
Seeing the boy huddled in the corner eating alone with his little rice cooker, his expression flickered in surprise, and the alcohol smell seemed to fade slightly as his voice lowered.
“Emi… Emi? Come eat at the table, will you?”
He clumsily bent down and opened the fridge, pulling out a dozen cold beers.
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
Yuki’s voice was muffled inside the rice cooker.
He didn’t turn around, focused on scraping the last bits of rice and oil stuck to the pot’s sides.
The man’s reaching hand hesitated.
In the end, with a complicated expression, he patted Yuki’s shoulder lightly twice.
His lips moved as if to say something but nothing came out.
With only a sigh, he left.
The faucet gushed loudly as Yuki washed his little rice bowl.
The sound of running water drowned out the faint liveliness coming from the living room.