....
It had been a full month since Jin-Ho's meeting with Giran.
The job he had handed over wasn't a small one - secure an identification for him and apply for the upcoming Provisional License Qualification.
Not exactly simple work… to put it mildly.
And now, thirty days later, Jin-Ho found himself halfway through a convenience-store meal, overpriced onigiri and instant ramen that tasted suspiciously like regret, when his phone buzzed.
It was a message.
=====
[Giran] : Done.
=====
One word, that's all it took.
Jin-Ho abandoned his meal immediately, leaving cash on the counter without waiting for change.
He jogged through the city streets toward the small building where he had first met Giran, an unremarkable structure tucked between larger buildings, easy to miss if you didn't know what you were looking for.
The security this time was thorough.
More thorough than last time.
Two newly hired broad, muscle-bound men were stationed at the entrance, same location, different attitude.
Jin-Ho cooperated without complaint.
He made it to Giran's office.
When he was finally let through, the future crime lord was already waiting behind his desk, legs crossed, cigarette dangling from his mouth.
He didn't look concerned when Jin-Ho entered. If anything, he looked entertained.
"You are punctual." Giran said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. "I like that."
Jin-Ho took a seat - yet his hand was already sliding into his jacket. A moment later, a gun appeared in his grip as effortlessly as a magician revealing a card.
?!!The guards stiffened instantly.
Giran let out a laugh again, this time louder, fuller.
A real laugh that rumbled up from his chest.
"Kid, where do you learn that trick?"
"Trade secret."
Giran's eyes lit up.
The documents were pristine.
Perfect forgeries or real documents, Jin-Ho couldn't tell the difference, and more importantly, didn't care.
A complete identity: Yoo Jin-Ho, Japanese citizenship, background fabricated but solid enough to withstand casual scrutiny.
"You really are good at your job." he said, tucking it under his arm before placing a small pouch on the desk - the rest of the payment, in crisp bills.
Giran counted it without looking, just feeling the weight of the stack - Old habit.
He nodded, satisfied. "You know, when you walked in that first time, I thought for sure you were going to try to kill me the moment the job was done. No loose ends, right? That's what kids your age usually think."
Jin-Ho stopped at the door, glancing back with a faint grin.
"Nha." he said casually. "I like you."
Giran blinked. "…You what now?"
"I mean." Jin-Ho continued, already walking away. "I can't kill the goose that lays golden eggs."
He said, moving toward the door. "You are useful. You do good work. Why would I destroy that?"
He understood immediately.
This kid, this weird, mysterious, dangerous kid, saw him not as a temporary tool to be discarded, but as something more valuable.
Something sustainable.
"Ah." Giran laughed again, that deep, satisfied laugh of a man who had just found someone he could work with long-term. "So you do understand business."
He added. "Kid, you need anything else, documents, information, weapons - you know where to find me."
Jin-Ho paused at the door and glanced back. "I might take you up on that."
"I hope you do." Giran replied, already turning his attention back to whatever paperwork was on his desk. "Business like this is hard to find."
The walk out of the building was faster than the walk in.
On the street, Jin-Ho pulled out the documents and examined them more carefully.
The forgery, if it was a forgery, was masterful.
•-------•
Name: Yoo Jin-Ho
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Status: Orphan
Affiliation: None
•-------•
…..
.
[Eleven Months Time Skip]
A total of twelve months or a year has passed in this world.
Within this time, Jin-Ho still didn't quite feel real, he had somehow managed to accumulate the trappings of a normal teen life.
Thanks to Giran's resourcefulness, or more accurately, his black-market genius, Jin-Ho had everything he needed to appear legitimate: a clean record, a family name that didn't exist, and a handful of documents so expertly faked they could pass any scanner in the Hero Public Safety Commission.
He was even attending a high school now - final year and all.
…and today happened to be his graduation ceremony.
The entire situation was nothing short of absurd.
Jin-Ho had his reasons for this.
It definitely wasn't because he wanted to go to school again - for the third time.
But Giran had managed to talk him into it.
And, much as Jin-Ho hated to admit it, the man had been right: the best lies were always woven from layers of painfully ordinary truth.
Real documents like enrollment records, attendance sheets, even if most of them were forged. A paper trail so complete and ordinary that questioning it would seem paranoid.
"Even if you lie." Giran had told him plainly, cigarette smoke curling lazily from his lips. "Make sure that there is half truth filling in. To make it believable."
Jin-Ho had learned to trust Giran's operational philosophy.
The crime fixer understood the architecture of society, how to work within its systems while appearing to follow its rules.
So during these past eleven months on paper, Yoo Jin-Ho was just another seventeen-year-old transfer student attending West Shizuoka High- a perfectly ordinary, non-hero school in the Japanese education system.
That's how Jin-Ho found himself back in a classroom 'again', surrounded by loud, hormonal teenagers, all obsessed with who was dating who, what Quirk was trending, and how to get internships with licensed heroes.
He barely lasted two weeks before he started skipping.
On the days he did attend, he had sat in the back, said nothing, and generally made himself invisible.
By now, the teachers had also given up.
He showed up only when attendance became mandatory or when exams loomed. Still, thanks to his absurd memory and Giran's discreet financial 'motivation' to certain officials, he somehow passed everything.
But there was another reason behind all this.
Even if he didn't bother attending classes, he still had to wait eleven months.
The Provisional Hero License Qualification exam had been held just days before his arrival in this world, and the next one wouldn't happen for a full year.
Which meant… he was stuck waiting.
And today, of all days, marked the eleven-month point.
Students cheered, threw papers, and took selfies.
The ceremony had been surprisingly normal.
Teachers in formal wear, students in uniforms, parents in the audience.
Jin-Ho had received his diploma with minimal ceremony, shook the principal's hand, and left.
Jin-Ho didn't even stay for the photo. His bag was slung over his shoulder, his expression bored. He hadn't even unbuttoned his uniform collar when his phone started vibrating.
By noon, he was already walking out of the school grounds, diploma in hand. According to the documents Giran had prepared, and in reality as well, he would officially turn eighteen.
As he walked home through the city streets, his mind was already moving ahead.
The Provisional License exam is within a week.
His phone buzzed.
The caller ID read: GIRAN
Jin-Ho answered immediately. "What's up? Don't tell me there's another ID inspection."
A call from the crime fixer during daylight hours was unusual.
Giran typically communicated through encrypted messages. A direct call meant something important.
["Good news and bad news."] Giran's voice came through, measured and professional. ["Which do you want first?"]
"Start with the good." Jin-Ho replied, turning down an alley.
["That brat you dumped in the clinic? He finally woke up, about three hours ago."] Giran informed.
Jin-Ho felt something in his chest loosen, a tension he hadn't fully acknowledged carrying for a year.
Toya was awake.
After all this time, after months of careful monitoring, the kid had finally come back to consciousness.
"That's—" Jin-Ho started, relief flooding through him.
["But he's missing."] Giran continued, cutting through the moment. ["The hospital lost track of him approximately two hours ago. One moment he was in observation, the next, gone. Security cameras show him walking out under his own power, but no one can account for his whereabouts after that."]
The relief crystallized into something harder.
Frustration, and concern.
Jin-Ho's jaw clenched. "I told you that place was a bad idea. You couldn't even find a clinic that can keep watch over a half-burned kid?"
["Calm down, I already handled it."] Giran interrupted before the rant could begin. ["I traced him. Got a ping off a street camera in Hosu. I am sending the location to your phone now. You are welcome."]
Jin-Ho's phone buzzed with a map notification.
A location in the industrial district, about twenty minutes from his current position.
He didn't question how Giran had tracked Toya so quickly.
The crime fixer had resources that extended into every corner of the city's underworld and surveillance infrastructure.
"On my way." Jin-Ho said, already breaking into a jog.
["The kid's probably confused and scared."] Giran offered as additional intel. ["Unconscious for a whole year only to wake up in a hospital, his first instinct might be to run. Be careful."]
Jin-Ho ended the call without responding and kicked his speed up to near-supernatural levels.
The diploma tucked under his arm was forgotten.
"Damn! I should have left Blacky with Toya."
At some point during the year, he had stopped stationing Blacky beside Toya.
He had grown to trust the pair of money-hungry doctors and the nurse watching over the kid.
And while that might be fine for normal circumstances, Blacky was useful in far more ways than just standing guard. Leaving him behind felt like a waste.
Honestly, Jin-Ho had lost count of the number of times Blacky had saved his ass.
Running full speed now, he didn't bother with Telekinesis.
Instead, he used a different skill entirely.
He muttered under his breath. "[Gate of Opening], [Gate of Healing], [Gate of Life]… Open."
Power surged through him instantly, skin taking on a faint golden sheen, pupils fading out, hair rising, veins bulging beneath the surface.
It wasn't that he had somehow obtained the actual [Eight Inner Gates] technique.
The power he was using came from the [OX Talisman], one he had earned after saving a certain 'tin can' and his assistant.
He hadn't tested it much back in the world of Solo Leveling, but with far more free time here, he had discovered something important:
The [OX Talisman] worked differently from the [Rooster Talisma] he had obtained first.
Its strength didn't manifest in a straightforward boost - it manifested as gates.
◤-----------------------◥
「Skills:」
[Talisman Arts] Lv. 2 → 5 (Proficiency 23 %)
[Telekinesis] Lv. 3 → 5 (Proficiency 71 %)
[Jackie Chan Martial Arts] Lv. 4 → 5 (Proficiency 89%)
[Super Human Strength] Lv. 2 → 4 (Proficiency 97 %)
◣-----------------------◢
….
◤-----------------------◥
「Skills:」
[Super Human Strength] Lv. 4 (Proficiency 97 %)
◣-----------------------◢
Another thing he had learned: He could open higher gates regardless of his skill level.
He could even force open the Fifth Gate, the Gate of Limit, or beyond… but the toll on his body would be brutal.
The stronger his base stats grew, the more his body could withstand the talisman's power.
And right now?
He needed every bit of it.
With the [OX Talisman] active, he vaulted onto the nearest rooftop in a single explosive leap.
Then he reached into his system storage and pulled out a [High Grade Concealment Talisman], slapping it onto himself without hesitation.
From there, he shot into the air using Telekinesis, gliding over the city as he slowly closed the gates one by one.
The golden glow across his skin faded, replaced by a faint green aura from the talisman's power.
Not that anyone could see it.
The concealment talisman hid everything.
….
The address Giran had sent led to an abandoned factory, a pattern Jin-Ho was starting to recognize as common for people with nowhere else to go.
The building's entrance was sealed, but there were gaps in the rusted metal that someone could slip through.
Jin-Ho, now on the ground, pushed past them and stepped inside.
He also removed the concealment Talisman.
The factory was dim, lit only by harsh sunlight streaming through high, grimy windows.
Machinery sat silent and coated in decades of dust, and in the center of the main floor—
Toya.
The kid was standing alone in the middle of the factory floor, wearing hospital clothes, his entire body covered in fresh bandages.
His eyes were wide and unfocused, his breathing rapid and shallow, his hands were clenched at his sides, and small blue flames were dancing across his knuckles - uncontrolled, flickering, dangerous.
But he wasn't alone…
….
.
[To be continued…]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
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