"Is this Ms. Tatsumaki? Here's the situation: we've found that your daughter is already registered at another school. If you'd like to transfer her, could you please complete the procedures there first?"
"I told you, she's not..." Forget it. What a hassle.
Tatsumaki hung up and stopped stirring the clothes in the washbasin with psychokinesis.
That had hardly been the only troublesome thing these past few days. Other clothes could simply be bought, but skirts and pants had to be custom-made at extra cost.
Then there was the fact that the brat had absolutely no concept of doing laundry, while Tatsumaki flatly refused to let socks and underwear go into the same washing machine as ordinary clothes.
The clumsy brat still couldn't control her psychic powers well enough for delicate work. The day before yesterday, Tatsumaki had told her to wash some clothes, only for her to start playing with bubbles, so Tatsumaki had ended up washing them for her.
"Tatsumaki."
And now, the moment she had finished the laundry and before she could even settle down, someone tugged on her clothes.
"What?"
"I can't beat him." Yimi held up the Game Console.
Tatsumaki rolled her eyes and took it from her.
It wasn't that she was particularly good at games. She barely even knew how to input special moves. It was just that the guy who had been thrashing Yimi was the standard CPU opponent.
"You've been playing games for three days straight. You won't even eat unless I call you. And once you start school, you're not taking that stupid Game Console with you, got it?"
"Three days?" Yimi's expression stiffened. She counted on her fingers.
She really had spent several days playing this game without worrying about her mission at all.
How terrifying. This Game Console kept tempting her to waste time!
"I beat him. Here."
"Whoa!" Yimi reached out and took it.
She had unlocked another new character. She would play one round with the new character first.
Then Tatsumaki grabbed her by the head and tilted her backward. "Stop putting your face so close. If you get nearsighted, what, are you going to wear glasses strapped over your head? Keep sitting like that and you'll grow up hunched over, understand?"
The sudden interruption helped snap Yimi out of it.
She couldn't keep loafing around like this!
Realizing that she kept getting sucked into the whirlpool of "just one more round," Yimi refused to give the Game Console another chance to tempt her and hurriedly put it away.
She grabbed Tatsumaki's clothes again. "Where is Blast?"
"Why are you suddenly asking something so impossible to answer? Other than Blast himself, probably nobody knows where he is. But maybe the reason there've been so few monsters lately is because of him."
Tatsumaki turned around and hung Yimi's freshly washed clothes on the balcony. "If that's the case, I should thank him again. My Cell Phone has finally been quiet for once."
Still, having no monsters to fight really was boring, though mostly because anything below Demon-level wasn't worth calling her over in the first place.
"Then, where is he most likely to be?"
"You don't even bother hiding it when you're plotting something, do you?" Tatsumaki pinched Yimi's cheeks between both hands and kneaded them.
Even without monsters around, staying home to watch a kid was somehow even more exhausting.
"You know, you just reminded me. Isn't City Z about the only place with a lot of monsters right now?"
"Ding-dong." The doorbell rang.
"Hm? Did you order delivery?"
"No."
"Turn around." Tatsumaki turned Yimi around.
It had better not be NHK. She didn't want to throw someone out in front of the brat.
She opened the door. It wasn't one of those notorious NHK fee collectors, but it was another person Tatsumaki disliked just as much.
Handsomely Masked Sweet Mask.
"What do you want?"
He had never gotten along very well with the S-class.
"Tatsumaki, I'm not here for you." Handsomely Masked Sweet Mask took advantage of his height to peer inside.
"Bang!"
Tatsumaki decisively slammed the door shut.
"Who was outside?"
"Don't know him. Some creepy uncle, probably. If you run into someone like that in the future, call the police."
The door's soundproofing wasn't very good. Handsomely Masked Sweet Mask heard every word clearly.
He simply tore the lock off. "Let me finish!"
"Who told you to barge in? Get out!" Tatsumaki angrily pinned him with psychokinesis.
Veins no human should have bulged across Handsomely Masked Sweet Mask's face. "Tatsumaki, aside from your strength, there's nothing heroic about you."
"Oh? And you get to decide that? You're only A-class."
"Don't misunderstand. If I wanted to move up to S-class, I could do it at any time. I simply refuse to let random small fry make it into S-class."
When the Hero Association was first founded, A-class was the highest rank, but most heroes started out like Saitama, down in C-class.
Rankings refreshed every Monday. In addition to records of defeating monsters, public reputation also counted. People constantly padded their records in every possible way, and groups like the Fubuki Group worked together, making it difficult for new heroes to climb the rankings and causing some truly capable heroes to remain buried.
That was why the Association created an additional S-class standard for heroes capable of defeating Demon-level threats alone, granting them exceptional privileges as well.
Just as Handsomely Masked Sweet Mask had said, as an A-class hero he did not possess the privileges of S-class, but he could move up whenever he wanted.
What he absolutely would not allow was someone without sufficient ability—or someone motivated entirely by personal gain—to rise into S-class.
His method did work. None of the current S-class heroes genuinely cared about their rank or privileges. Still, some proud people really did judge things by ranking, such as Tatsumaki's dismissive "only A-class" just now.
This time, he truly had been wrong, and he had to admit it. He had originally thought every monster should simply be killed, but if he had killed that tentacled monster at the start, he never would have learned the full story.
Most of the S-class heroes present at the time had brushed it off, but everyone had seen her snap Atomic Samurai's sword.
"A little gift." Handsomely Masked Sweet Mask casually shoved the expensive Cake into Tatsumaki's hands, walked over to Yimi, and pulled out a little booklet.
"Full marks for appearance. No makeup needed. A child star doesn't need some gaudy adult look."
"Meow!" Yimi slapped the booklet out of his hand.
Last time this guy scored her, he had said the kitten was ugly!
"A bit temperamental? That's normal. Her guardian has a bad personality, after all. And she's young enough that her personality can still be shaped if there are problems..."
Tatsumaki stepped in front of Yimi. "What are you scoring her for without permission? And what do you mean her guardian has a bad personality?!"
"Tatsumaki, based on my previous impression of you, I had absolutely no need or desire to communicate with you. But since you're her guardian, I'll make an exception and explain what I have in mind."
Handsomely Masked Sweet Mask gave Tatsumaki a cold glance and pointed at Yimi. "I want to mold this child into the perfect hero."
In appearance, personality, and strength alike.
His last battle with the Hero Hunter had once again made him realize that his own heart was becoming less and less human. If he could raise such a perfect hero, have her kill him, and then replace him as the true embodiment of the perfect hero, nothing could be better.