"I need to pass this quickly," I muttered to myself, determination blazing in my chest. Every bruise, every scratch, every moment of exhaustion—it all led to this. I had to qualify. Becoming a hero wasn't just a dream anymore; it was my purpose, my path, and I couldn't fail now.
The streets were eerily quiet compared to the chaos earlier. Almost everyone I had seen before was either defeated or hiding, licking wounds and trying to recover. My eyes scanned every corner, every alley, every shadow. Then I saw him.
A guy with a maroon middle-parted hairstyle. His posture was casual, almost careless, but there wasn't a single scratch or bruise on him. Instinctively, I moved closer—but the moment our gazes met, my body froze. I couldn't move, couldn't even twitch.
"Defeat him." The commanding voice echoed in my mind again, deep and unwavering.
He walked toward me slowly, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. My heart thumped, but I forced myself to stay calm. Then he swung.
The punch connected with my face before I could react. Pain exploded across my cheek, and blood dripped from my nose. I staggered, barely keeping my footing, my face already starting to bruise. Then came the relentless flurry—punch after punch, over and over again. My vision blurred. Every strike was like a hammer smashing into my skull. And then, darkness.
The damned bell rang again.
"Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock… Ding—"
I woke up back among the trio I had defeated earlier. My muscles screamed, my face stung from phantom pain, and fear crept like ice through my veins.
"Why do I keep going back?" I whispered, panic edging into my thoughts.
"Defeat him," the voice repeated, unwavering.
I clenched my fists, gritting my teeth. "If I don't listen, are you going to kill me and bring me back again?" I shouted inwardly, but there was no reply. Only the echo of my own heartbeat.
I thought back, analyzing. Why couldn't I move last time? Then it clicked. His ability—it was tied to eye contact. I had frozen the moment our gazes met. All I have to do is avoid looking into his eyes.
I calculated quickly and spotted a balcony near the place where we had locked eyes. Silently, I leapt, landing safely above him. He didn't see me. My heart pounded as I waited, watching, calculating the perfect moment to strike.
When he approached, I closed my eyes and jumped. A portal formed beneath him, and he fell through, landing unconscious. I cautiously opened my eyes to meet his gaze—nothing happened. Relief washed over me.
"No hard feelings, dude, but it had to be done," I muttered, stepping back. He didn't respond; truly unconscious.
"Two more to go," I whispered, knowing this was my real chance to qualify.
I sprinted through the empty streets, but everyone else had been defeated or was hiding. My mind raced, strategizing. I couldn't waste time. I needed a plan.
Then—footsteps. Rapid, approaching. I turned, and suddenly two guys leapt at me, knocking me to the ground. Their punches rained down, each hit shaking me to my core. I gritted my teeth and acted fast.
A portal formed beneath me, dragging both attackers into my "Void"—my personal nothingness domain. Their grip faltered as fear struck them, realizing they were in unfamiliar territory. I widened the portal, sending us all plummeting toward the edge of the building from earlier in the exam.
"AHHH!" they screamed, fear lacing their voices.
As we neared the ground, an inflatable safety cushion emerged beneath them, saving them from fatal impact. I quickly made a portal beneath myself, controlling the fall. and portalled standing in front of them.
I looked down at them, chest heaving, and adopted a menacing posture. "Admit defeat now, or this cushion won't save you next time," I threatened, my voice low and unyielding.
The duo froze, exchanging terrified glances. "Okay… fine… we admit defeat," they muttered in unison, fear and exhaustion evident in their eyes.
Relief coursed through me, but there was no time to waste. The female announcer's voice rang out once more.
"Kabuchi Zane, you have qualified. Please make yourself into the qualifier's gate."
Her next words sent a thrill through me:
"Examinees of Zone number 3—your exam has officially ended. For participants who have not passed, please make yourselves into the eliminated gate. Thank you."
I screamed, a victorious roar tearing from my throat. "YEAAAAA!" My fists were bruised, bloodied, my face swollen and stinging—but in that moment, none of it mattered.
I had qualified. I had passed. My dream—our dream—was no longer just a vision. It was real. The path to becoming a hero had officially begun, and nothing could stop me now.