Returning to the familiar underground secret chamber, Aomori let out a long sigh of relief. After resting for a while, he opened the system to check his dungeon evaluation.
Ding!
[Congratulations Player Aomori for clearing the Level 20 Dungeon (Jujutsu Kaisen).]
[Mission Rating: B]
[Plot Rating: A]
[Monster Slaying Rating: S]
[Overall Dungeon Rating: A]
[Reward: 12,000 Points]
"The mission rating is only a B?"
Confused, Aomori scrolled back through the system logs. He discovered that the Hidden Quest had required him to take first place in the "Culling Game." Since he had effectively strangled the Culling Game in its crib before it could even begin, the mission was naturally declared a failure. Combined with the fact that his second mission only earned two stars, totaling five stars, it was no wonder the mission rating was only a B.
"Hidden missions are a bit of a trap; these ambiguous objectives are perfect for 'behind-the-scenes' manipulation by the system." Aomori didn't mind assuming the worst of the system's intentions. Now, whether he could list this dungeon as a permanent "farming" location depended on whether the system would grant him that convenience.
Sighing inwardly, Aomori continued to review his status panel.
"Level 23. My three core attributes are all nearing 50 points."
As his attributes grew higher, the effectiveness of standard training diminished. Despite his consistent regimen, his Physique increased by at most one point per month. Spirit was slightly better; with Meditation, it grew faster than his physical stats. Energy, however, seemed to require "miraculous encounters."
"I'll have to wait for Child Emperor to finish the gravity chamber. If Saiyans can use it to train, I should be able to as well."
Looking further down, he saw a new title: [Heavenly Cursed Spirit: Once per day, transform into a Heavenly Cursed Spirit for one minute. Immune to pure physical damage.]
One minute of physical immunity, if used correctly, was a life-saving trump card. This alone made the trip worthwhile.
In the final barriers, he had farmed a massive number of Cursed Spirits, including the "kill credits" for four Special Grades, causing his Points to skyrocket to 177,389. Since he was only a bit away from a 10-pull on High-Level Chests, he wasn't about to waste points on Mid-Level ones.
"A 10-pull on High-Level Chests guarantees at least one Orange-quality item. I wonder what it'll be?"
Ideally, Aomori hoped for a powerful offensive skill, something to turn the tide and settle matters in a single blow. Currently, he had survivability from Heavenly Cursed Spirit and Darkrai's Teleport, crowd control from Barrier Techniques, 100% Princess Carry, and Hypnosis, and defense from his Psychokinesis shield and Iron Body. For sustain, he had Healing Spell and Thunder-Light Duality Fist.
Raw output remained his short board. While he had many offensive skills, none were exceptionally powerful. His current limit was roughly "city-block level." Faced with massive enemies like Elder Centipede, he could easily fall into a passive struggle.
His comprehensive strength had truly reached the Dragon-level. In a life-and-death struggle against the likes of Carnage Kabuto, he was confident he would be the one walking away. If he could obtain a "Country-buster" level skill, he would instantly ascend beyond Dragon-level, rivaling the likes of Blast and Tatsumaki.
The future looked bright!
Filled with anticipation, Aomori returned to his top-floor office at Hero Association Headquarters. He released his four Pokémon and gave them their instructions.
"Absol, Pidgeot, your identities as my pets are already known to the heroes. Go out on patrol and assist the heroes in slaying monsters."
"Darkrai, your concealment is your greatest strength. You'll be more effective in the shadows, so I won't reveal you publicly. Just know my affection for you is no less than the others. Act independently and eliminate monsters as you see fit."
"Ditto, your performance in the last dungeon made me see you in a new light. I have a very important mission for you. I hope you can deliver a perfect result once again."
"Understood!"
The Pokémon accepted their orders happily and departed. Aomori turned to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the vast world, a smile playing on his lips.
…
Hero's Starting Ground.
Today was the first day of Fubuki's induction training. She arrived wearing the platinum-white armor her beloved "teacher" had given her.
"Ironclad Warrior?" Instructor Locust looked at the hunk of metal before him, his expression unchanged. He had seen plenty of eccentric hero costumes; nothing surprised him anymore.
"Yes," Fubuki replied. Her magnetic voice was muffled by the armor, turning into a dull, androgynous drone.
"High-intensity morning exercises start every day at dawn. I hope you can keep up."
"I will do my best!"
"Very well. Fall in."
Fubuki nodded, dragging the heavy armor with effort, leaving deep footprints as she joined the ranks of the prospective heroes.
"Next is our customary ten-kilometer long-distance run. The goal is the large tree on that hillside. From this moment, your journey as heroes begins!"
"Oh!"
At Instructor Locust's command, the heroes-to-be exerted all their strength, swarming forward toward the goal. Fubuki was instantly left in the dust.
"Dammit... I, Fubuki, am actually a bottom-feeder." Her intense competitive spirit made her grit her teeth, stubbornly trailing behind.
However, the dual drain on her stamina and psychokinesis meant that by the halfway point, she was dizzy and gasping for breath.
"No... I can't collapse here. It would be too embarrassing!" The thought of potential ridicule and disdain from the others made her chest tighten. She forced herself to stay conscious, moving forward step by step. Arriving on time was impossible, but she would finish the course.
This was Fubuki's final shred of pride!
Nearly two hours later, Fubuki finally reached the destination, unsurprisingly, in last place. By now, the others were almost finished with the subsequent stages of the training.
"I can't... go on." The moment she reached the hilltop, Fubuki collapsed to her knees.
The prolonged use of psychokinesis had exceeded her limits, blurring her vision. Though it was early autumn and the weather was cool, she was encased in airtight armor. Inside, she was drenched in sweat, her clothes clinging to her uncomfortably.
"I really want a bath..." Fubuki rolled over, lying flat on the grass. She quickly fell into a deep sleep.
She didn't know how much time had passed before she woke up, her stomach growling with hunger. She sat up and released her recovered psychokinesis to scan the surroundings. There wasn't a soul in sight.
"Have I been... abandoned?"
Having been the center of attention and pampered since childhood, she had never felt such neglect. She immediately began to sob.
"Is this how it feels to be a bottom-feeder? To be left behind, to be forgotten... it hurts so much."
"Waaaah! Sister is a big jerk, always only caring about herself and never understanding me. Sensei is a big jerk too, making this hunk of iron just to bully me."
After venting for a while, she felt slightly better. She gathered her strength and stood up. "I am Fubuki. I won't admit defeat like this. One day, I'll show them all!"
Encouraging herself, she began the trek back. It took a significant effort, but she finally returned to the familiar camp. Clutching her starving stomach through the armor, she decided to head to the canteen first. Fortunately, she had spent the previous night memorizing the camp's layout, or she'd be lost right now.
Reaching the canteen, she sensed that the crowd had thinned out. She felt a bit of joy; she wouldn't have to wait long for a hot meal. Her mood finally started to lift, only to be shattered a minute later.
"Well, well, well, isn't this the hunk of iron who came in last?" A man blocked Fubuki's path, his tone mocking.
"Excuse me, you're in my way," Fubuki said tonelessly.
"Huh? I say you're the one in my way!"
"Move!"
"What's with the attitude? Do you know who I am?" The man struck a bodybuilding pose, showing off. "I am Tanktop Tiger of the Tank Topper Army! My big brother is a respected A-Class Hero. Scared yet?"
Her sister was an S-Class Hero, and her teacher was the Chairman of the Hero Association. What was an A-Class hero to her? Fubuki replied with a flat, "Heh."
"You dare look down on the Tank Topper Army?!" Hearing the disdain in her voice, Tanktop Tiger's anger flared. He prepared to demonstrate his strength.
Nearby, someone couldn't stand it anymore and intervened. "Give it a rest. This is the Hero's Starting Ground. You'll be disciplined for causing trouble."
Hearing this, Tanktop Tiger's rage evaporated. He gave Fubuki a vicious glare. "I'll remember you!" Then he turned and left.
Fubuki took a deep breath and moved slowly toward the service window. Passing a table, she heard familiar voices.
"I didn't see Fubuki-nee anywhere."
"Fubuki-sama was personally received by the Chairman. A powerhouse like her should be on the job already; she wouldn't need induction training."
"Ah, really? Lily is so disappointed."
Fubuki pursed her lips, pretending not to hear. she packed a large portion of food and returned to her dorm. Since there weren't many recruits this term, she had been assigned a single room.
The moment she entered, she disengaged the armor and went straight to the bathroom. In the mirror, the once beautiful and moving girl had become a disheveled mess with messy hair, a hollow gaze, and traces of blood under her nose.
Fubuki laughed at herself. "Sensei was right. Without your beauty, you are nothing."
She had been chased and flattered solely because of her looks. Strength? Her level of power was a dime a dozen; what was there to praise? Only powerhouses like her sister received the spotlight. Even with a plain, childlike figure, her sister was worshipped because of her strength.
Experiencing the polar opposites of treatment, Fubuki finally understood.
"I want to be strong! Stronger! Stronger!"
Fubuki grabbed her own hair, her psychokinesis spinning rapidly. With a snip, piles of black hair fell onto the bathroom floor. Looking at her new "tomboy" self in the mirror, Fubuki smiled slightly.
"From this day forward, I am a new person!"
…
Z-City.
As the city most frequently ravaged by monsters, it also had the highest concentration of stationed heroes. Red Nose was a C-Class Hero; he got his name because, well, his nose was red. His partner was fellow C-Class Hero Punches. Punches was short and wore a pair of red boxing gloves. Because of their shared love for the color red, the two had become fast friends and partners.
The two were assigned to patrol a specific district in City Z.
"Punches, did you hear? Black Suit and his partner, the guys who were on the shift before us last night... they ran into a monster and were wiped out instantly. They say it was a Demon-level."
"Ah, that scary?"
"What's scarier is that the monster wasn't eliminated. It apparently escaped."
"No way. Red Nose, don't you think the number of monsters we're seeing lately is a bit high? We barely survived a monster encounter a few days ago. If it weren't for that hero in the tracksuit passing by, we'd be toast."
"Sigh," Red Nose sighed. "I just want to save up enough Points to exchange for an exoskeleton suit. At least then I'd have a fighting chance against a Tiger-level."
"Hey, how many points are you short?"
"Over 600."
"600? About the same as me. How about we pool our money, buy one, and take turns wearing it?"
"Hey, great idea! I think that works."
Just then, a tall, shirtless man walked across the intersection ahead.
"Hey—" Red Nose was about to stop this "indecent" behavior when Punches covered his mouth.
"Shh!" Punches' face was a mask of pure terror. His eyes were watering as he shook his head slowly but firmly. Red Nose began to panic. Once the man's figure had vanished, Punches lowered his hand, his voice trembling. "I saw it. That guy had horns on his head. He wasn't human!"
"A monster?!" Red Nose gasped.
"Yeah!" Punches nodded emphatically.
The two looked at each other and scrambled to report the incident to headquarters. Only after receiving word that reinforcements were on the way did they breathe a sigh of relief.
"After today, let's exchange for that exoskeleton immediately."
"Yeah!"
Then, heart in mouth, the two crept to the intersection and peeked toward where the monster had disappeared. They found themselves staring directly into a pair of tyrannical, blood-red eyes.
"Ahahaha, the weather sure is nice today."
"Yeah, please, carry on. We'll be leaving now."
The response they received was two massive fists.
BAM! BAM!
"AAAGH!"
Three minutes later, the arriving reinforcements found Red Nose and Punches beaten into "pig heads," while the monster had seemingly evaporated without a trace.
…
Deep underground, the monster, led by a creature that looked like wild grass, walked through a maze-like tunnel into a vast cavern.
"Goketsu-sama, another monster has come to join us," the grass monster said fawningly, rolling toward the towering figure of Goketsu.
Goketsu ignored him, staring straight at the newcomer. His four eyes flashed with interest. "Finally, a decent-looking monster. What is your name?"
"Ogre from another world, Yujiro! I aspire to be the Strongest Being on Earth!" A signature, boisterous smile broke across his face.
"Hahaha! Strongest on Earth?" Goketsu laughed, the sound shaking dust from the cave ceiling. "Interesting. If you can take one punch from me and live, I'll admit you're not just full of hot air."
Hearing this, the grass monster scrambled away in a panic. Yujiro didn't answer; instead, he threw a punch first. His fist frictioned against the air, sparks seemingly flickering.
"Good!" Goketsu stepped forward with his left foot and threw a right hook.
The two fists collided. The sheer power conducted through their feet, shattering the floor. Both of them crashed through to the level below.
"Good! Very good!" After landing steadily, Goketsu praised the undeterred Yujiro. "To take ten percent of my strength and remain standing... you're a powerhouse even among Demon-levels. From now on, you follow me."
Yujiro brushed the dust off his clothes and nodded calmly. The skin on the hand that had clashed with Goketsu was split, blood flowing freely.
This guy... if he's not bluffing, he might actually be able to fight Aomori. This mission won't be easy. I have to be careful.
————
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