The cold liquid slowly flowed through the injection needle and into Adrian's veins.
At first, he felt nothing.
Then his consciousness began to fade.
His vision blurred, his thoughts became distant, and the darkness he had been trapped in earlier grew deeper, heavier, almost suffocating. His body stopped struggling. His breathing became slow and faint, like a flame about to go out.
Lucius Falcon watched him silently.
There was no sympathy in his eyes—only curiosity.
Once Adrian was fully unconscious, Lucius calmly removed the syringe and wiped his hands with a cloth, as if he had just finished an ordinary experiment. The dim lights of the laboratory flickered slightly, illuminating countless machines, wires, glass containers, and surgical tools that lined the walls.
This was not a hospital.
It was a factory.
A factory that created weapons.
Lucius stepped closer to Adrian and attached a small metallic device to his arm. Thin wires extended from the gadget, connecting to a large monitor beside the operating table. The device hummed softly as it activated.
Numbers began to appear on the screen.
Lucius narrowed his eyes.
The monitor stopped at a single number.
30.
For a moment, the room was silent.
Lucius stared at the screen as if he had misread it.
"…Thirty?" he murmured.
His expression twisted slightly—not in anger, but in disbelief.
"The average person's power level is around one hundred," he said quietly, his voice echoing through the laboratory. "Even weak civilians surpass this number. So what exactly is this?"
He removed the device and reattached it again, adjusting the wires carefully. The machine beeped once more, recalculating Adrian's power level.
The result did not change.
30.
Lucius clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Tsk."
His disappointment was clear.
"So this is the son of a Light of Justice?" he said to himself, his tone filled with irritation rather than surprise. "I expected at least a thousand. At least something worthy of interest."
He looked down at Adrian's unconscious face.
For a moment, his eyes lost their excitement.
"At this rate," Lucius muttered, "he's worthless."
He turned away from Adrian as if the boy had already lost his value.
But deep inside, something else lingered in Lucius's mind.
A faint doubt.
Because numbers didn't always tell the full story.
And sometimes, the weakest-looking subjects were the most dangerous.
Meanwhile, far away from the cold laboratory, within the grand walls of the Hero Headquarters, a completely different atmosphere existed.
Edward's office was silent.
The room was large and luxurious, filled with towering bookshelves, antique decorations, and golden ornaments that symbolized power and authority. Yet, despite the countless books surrounding him, Edward rarely read any of them.
He sat behind his desk calmly, his hands folded together, his expression unreadable.
The door opened slowly.
An S-class hero stepped inside.
He walked forward with disciplined steps and bowed slightly.
"Sir," the hero said respectfully, his voice serious. "We have confirmed news."
Edward raised his eyes slightly.
"The Light of Justice, Arthur, has died," the S-class hero continued. "According to our investigation, he was killed by two other Lights of Justice—Anthony and Cosmic."
For a brief moment, Edward did not speak.
His fingers stopped moving.
The room became unnaturally quiet.
Then, slowly, Edward lifted his head.
His eyes sharpened.
"So… it has begun," he murmured softly.
There was no shock.
No anger.
No grief.
Only interest.
After a few seconds, Edward leaned back in his chair, his lips curling into a faint smile.
"Send Chronos," he said calmly.
The S-class hero blinked slightly. "Sir?"
"Tell him to eliminate Anthony and Cosmic," Edward continued, his tone indifferent. "Chronos is the strongest Light of Justice. He shouldn't have any trouble dealing with them."
He paused for a moment, his smile deepening slightly.
"And even if he dies," Edward added, "it will still be beneficial for us."
The S-class hero hesitated, but nodded."…Understood."
As the hero left the office, Edward turned his gaze toward the window, staring at the distant cityscape below.
The pieces were moving exactly as he desired.
Elsewhere, in a quiet dojo far away from the Hero Headquarters…
The sound of wooden swords clashing echoed through the hall.
Kenji stood calmly in front of a young student, his posture relaxed yet firm. His eyes were sharp, observing every movement the boy made.
"Again," Kenji said.
The student nodded nervously and rushed forward, swinging his wooden sword clumsily. Kenji easily blocked the attack with minimal effort, redirecting the strike and tapping the student lightly on the shoulder.
"Your stance is unstable," Kenji said calmly. "And your breathing is messy."
The student lowered his head slightly. "I'm sorry, sensei."
Kenji sighed quietly.
"If you perform Flash Step one thousand times," he said, "your body will begin to understand the concept of teleportation. Power isn't something you gain instantly. It's something you carve into your body."
The student listened carefully, his eyes filled with admiration.
"I understand," he said, bowing slightly. "Thank you for teaching me again, sensei."
Kenji nodded.
The student turned around and left the dojo, the sound of his footsteps slowly fading away.
The hall became quiet once more.
Then, the door opened again.
This time, two figures stepped inside.
Kenji recognized them instantly.
Anthony and Cosmic.
Kenji smiled faintly.
"I didn't expect to see two of my students visiting my dojo," he said calmly. "To what do I owe this honor?"
Anthony remained silent.
Cosmic stepped forward slightly.
"We need a favor," Cosmic said.
Kenji raised an eyebrow slightly."Oh?"
Cosmic and Anthony exchanged a brief glance, then began explaining everything—the situation at the Hero Headquarters, Arthur's death, Edward's true intentions, Adrian's capture, and the experiment being conducted on him.
As they spoke, Kenji's smile slowly disappeared.
By the time they finished, the dojo felt colder.
"So," Kenji said quietly, his voice unusually serious, "you killed Arthur… and now you want to save a boy."
"Yes," Anthony replied without hesitation.
Kenji stared at them for a long moment.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed softly.
"Well, well," he said, exhaling slowly. "I was getting bored of teaching all day anyway."
His tone was light.
Almost cheerful.
Cosmic looked slightly surprised.
Kenji walked toward the weapon rack and stopped in front of it. For years, he had always used a wooden sword when training his students. Slowly, he reached past the wooden weapons and grabbed something else.
A real sword.
The moment he lifted it, the atmosphere of the dojo changed completely.
The blade reflected the dim light of the hall, and the aura around Kenji shifted from that of a teacher to something far more dangerous.
He turned back toward Anthony and Cosmic.
His eyes were calm.
But behind that calmness was something terrifying.
Kenji placed the wooden sword back on the rack and held the real blade firmly in his hand.
"Alright," he said casually.
His voice was quiet.
Yet it carried overwhelming weight.
"Time to destroy the Hero Headquarters," Kenji continued, his expression unreadable.
Anthony and Cosmic remained silent, watching him carefully.
"And kill Edward," Kenji finished.
For a moment, the dojo was completely silent.
Outside, the wind began to blow.
And somewhere deep within the Hero Headquarters, Adrian slept peacefully—unaware that a war was about to begin for his fate.