The Association headquarters buzzed with activity. Genos approached Yoshino—his mechanical eyes scanning the promotion list. "Sensei, the new rankings are out." He held up a digital tablet showing Yoshino's name at B-Class, Rank 2. "Congratulations... almost A-Class."
"well, I suppose it could be worse. Come on buddy we're going home."
Genos nodded—his metallic expression softening slightly. "Yes, Sensei. We should head back." They left the headquarters together—Genos carrying their gear while Yoshino walked beside him. As they exited, they noticed a group of heroes whispering and glancing their way—likely discussing Yoshino's sudden rise in rank.
A hero muttered loudly— "B-Class Rank 2 already? That guy just appeared out of nowhere." Another chimed in— "He survived Deep Sea King AND defeated it? Must be some fluke."
Genos noticed—his incinerator cannons glowing faintly. "Sensei, their comments are disrespectful. Shall I—"
"Forget them." Yoshino shrugged. "if they have anything to say, they can say it to my face and since they aren't doing that, that means they're weak."
Genos tilted his head—processing. "Sensei, that logic could be problematic if applied broadly."
A few heroes nearby stiffened—hearing those words. A tall muscular hero stepped forward—A-Class Rank 15.
"Hey kid. You got a death wish?" He cracked his knuckles. "You killed Deep Sea King but you're still just a B-Class."
"if you have a problem with me, come at me and you'll see exactly why I'm better than you."
The A-Class hero scoffed—stepping closer. He was taller than Yoshino by a foot—muscles rippling. "You hear that? This B-Class thinks he's hot shit."
Genos moved forward—but Yoshino held up a hand.
"I don't need backup."
The hero laughed. "Confident kid. Let me show you what A-Class actually—"
He threw a jab.
Before the A-Class hero's fist could even land, Yoshino's arm blurred—blocking the blow with effortless grace. Then, with a sickening CRACK, the hero's arm shattered under the sudden force. He staggered back, screaming, before crashing into a wall with a deafening thud. The crowd gasped. Genos blinked. "Sensei..."
"relax, he's alive. Just unconscious now Is there another hero who wants to fight me and learn the same lesson he just did."
The hallway went dead silent. Heroes exchanged nervous glances. A few shuffled backward. No one stepped forward.
Genos broke the silence calmly. "It appears your point has been made, Sensei."
From the end of the corridor, heavy footsteps echoed. An S-Class hero emerged—Tanktop Master. His massive frame blocked the light.
"Young man." His voice rumbled. "You've got power."
"And your tank top master S-class leader of the tank topper army, I believe."
Tanktop Master's eyes widened slightly—a grin spreading across his face. "So you know who I am. Good."
He crossed his massive arms—tank top straining against his bulging muscles.
"I heard about what you did to Deep Sea King. Impressive for a B-Class." He glanced at the unconscious hero embedded in the wall. "But attacking fellow heroes... that's not the Tank Top way."
"well, I'm not one of your soldiers and besides, he's won first I finished it. He's lucky. He only has a broken arm."
Tanktop Master's expression shifted. The humor drained from his face. His massive fists clenched—absurdly large muscles rippling.
"You've got an attitude, boy." His tone darkened. "The Tank Top Army doesn't tolerate disrespect." He flexed—his tank top tightening ominously.
"tank top master I'm going to tell you this once you don't wanna do this for your own safety."
Tanktop Master's grin returned—but there was no warmth in it now. He cracked his neck.
"Listen here, kid. I've beaten monsters that would turn you into paste." He stepped forward—the ground trembling beneath his weight. "I'm S-Class. You're B-Class. That's the food chain."
Genos stepped between them—heat radiating from his palms.
"Sensei. Perhaps I should handle this."
"I got this go ahead take the first swing see what happens."
Tanktop Master's eyes narrowed. The air grew heavy with tension. For a long moment, he stared at Yoshino—searching for any sign of weakness.
Then he smiled—a dangerous smile.
"Alright, kid. You asked for it."
He pulled back his massive fist. Every muscle in his arm coiled like a spring. The ground cracked beneath his feet as he launched a devastating punch straight at Yoshino's face.
The punch collided with Yoshino's palm—the impact echoing like a thunderclap through the corridor. The shockwave shattered nearby windows. Heroes scrambled back in panic.
Tanktop Master's eyes widened—his fist completely stopped. Not even shifted.
Then—BLACK FLASH.
The space around Yoshino's fist distorted—lightning crackling in the air. A sickening crunch.
Tanktop Master's massive body folded instantly. The terrifying distortion of the Black Flash launched him backward like a cannonball—smashing through three reinforced concrete walls before finally embedding him into the fourth.
The entire headquarters shook. Dust billowed out into the corridor.
Silence.
Tanktop Master twitched—slumped in the rubble. Unconscious.
Genos stared at the hole in the wall.
"come on Genos I'm hungry. Let's go get something to eat."
Genos immediately deactivated his incinerator cannons—falling into step beside Yoshino. "Yes, Sensei."
The remaining heroes pressed themselves flat against the walls—as terrified to move as if a monster had entered. They watched the pair walk away, leaving two unconscious high-ranking heroes in their wake.
As they stepped outside into the sunlight, Genos glanced down.
Genos walked beside Yoshino, his mechanical eyes scanning the streets. "Sensei, there's a ramen shop two blocks over. The owner owes me a favor from a previous mission."
He paused—his head tilting slightly. "Also... the Association will likely have questions about today's events."
A nervous hero approached them timidly—holding a communicator.
"Master Mumen Rider would like to speak with you."
Yoshino kept walking. "Tell him I'm busy eating." He turned the corner toward the ramen shop—Genos close behind.
Behind them—the communicator hero stared after them with wide eyes, unsure what to do. The street had gone unnervingly quiet. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
They stepped into the small, bustling ramen shop. The steam smelled rich—pork broth and fresh noodles. The owner, a stout older man, looked up—and froze when he saw Yoshino.
"Genos! And... this is your teacher?"
Genos nodded. "Two large bowls of tonkotsu. Extra chashu."
They slid into a booth.
The owner moved quickly—setting two bowls of steaming tonkotsu ramen in front of them. Yoshino grabbed his chopsticks and immediately dug in. Slurping loudly.
Across the shop, a few customers whispered—recognizing him from the news coverage of the Deep Sea King battle.
Genos ate more methodically. "Sensei. About Tanktop Master..." He paused mid-slurp.
Yoshino slurped his noodles loudly before responding. "What about him? He swung first. I just finished it."
Genos nodded slowly. "Technically correct, Sensei. However..." He paused. "The Association may attempt to discipline you for excessive force against fellow heroes."
The shop owner approached with a small dish of extra chashu—sliding it toward Yoshino with a nervous smile.
Yoshino grabbed a piece of chashu with his chopsticks. "Let them try. I didn't become a hero to follow their rules." He chewed thoughtfully. "Heroes should protect people. Not bully each other over ranks."
Genos was quiet for a moment. "Sensei, your philosophy is... unconventional."
The shop door slid open.
An older man in a formal Hero Association suit stepped in—his eyes immediately finding Yoshino. He was clean-shaven, balding slightly, and radiated administrative authority.
"Yoshino." He said simply—arms crossed. "We need to talk."
Behind him stood three Association officials and a medical team wheeling stretchers—apparently here to retrieve Tanktop Master.
Yoshino didn't look up from his ramen. "Talk while I'm eating? No."
The official's jaw tightened—but he held back. "This concerns the disciplinary board. Tanktop Master is in critical condition. They're calling it 'unprovoked assault on an S-Class hero.'"
Genos's mechanical eyes flickered—recording the interaction.
"first of all, I didn't become a hero to follow your rules. Secondly, he swung first I do it. We warned him saying that if you swing out me, I will take you down. He didn't listen and got hurt your care loss clearly saw that and Genos who is also a S-class recorded the entire thing."
The official stiffened—his hand pausing on the table.
"This is... highly irregular." He adjusted his tie—his gaze flickering to Genos. The cyborg simply met his stare without a word. The official turned back to Yoshino. "Regardless of circumstances, attacking an S-Class hero... the Association doesn't look favorably upon it."
He pulled out a digital card.
Yoshino ignored the card—slurping up the last of his broth. He set the bowl down with a clack.
"Save your threats. Tanktop Master picked a fight he couldn't finish. That's his problem."
He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "If the Association has an issue with that, they can take it up with me. I'm done listening and the way I see it. You need me more than I need you. I single-handedly defeated a demon level threat that an A and an S class hero couldn't beat."
The official froze. The words hung heavy in the air—the absolute truth of them undeniable. The S-Class and A-Class failures against the Deep Sea King were a stain on the Association's record; Yoshino had cleaned it up in seconds.
Genos remained silent—his recordings already backing up the statement.
The official's hand slowly lowered the digital card. His confident demeanor cracked.
"Your..."
"before you do something stupid remember I'm only working for you out of convenience."
The official's blood ran cold. Convenience.
Not loyalty. Not duty. Not heroism.
*Convenience.*
He swallowed hard. The three officials behind him shifted uncomfortably. The shop owner pretended not to listen—but his hands trembled slightly as he wiped down the counter.
"What... exactly do you mean by that?" the official managed—his voice carefully neutral.
"I mean, you paid me well and I get some recognition for my work and all in all it's not too bad just the people who keep picking A fight with me that is the problem."
The official's expression turned thoughtful—almost calculating. "Let me rephrase. Are you threatening to withdraw your services from the Association if we attempt to discipline you?" His tone was precise, probing for a crack in Yoshino's resolve. Genos's mechanical eyes whirred—recording every word.
"Think carefully before answering."
"I think you should think carefully before answering because if you declined me pay, I won't work for you. That means you won't have another hero who is as strong as an S class hero and genos would more than likely withdrawal with me. That means you lose two S-class heroes."
The official's face went pale. His mouth opened—then closed. He had clearly not prepared for this scenario. The weight of losing two S-Class heroes in one go would be catastrophic for the Association's public image. Monster attacks would spike. Cities would fall.
He turned to Genos. "Is that true? Would you really withdraw?"
Genos didn't even hesitate. "I follow Sensei's decisions unconditionally."
The official exhaled slowly. The tension in the ramen shop was suffocating.
He finally set the digital card down on the table. "Let me make this clear—the Association will not pursue disciplinary action against you, Yoshino. Tanktop Master's actions were recorded. He swung first. The case will be closed."
He leaned forward slightly—lowering his voice. "In exchange..."
The official paused—calculating his next move carefully.
"In exchange—you will refrain from attacking fellow heroes unless absolutely necessary. And..." He glanced at Genos. "...you both remain active with the Association."
His eyes flickered—testing. The medical team behind him were already loading Tanktop Master onto a stretcher through the back exit.
"I think we come to a good conclusion."
The official visibly relaxed—the tension draining from his shoulders. "Excellent. I believe we understand each other." He straightened his tie. "The Association values your... unique approach to heroism, Yoshino. As long as it remains within certain... parameters."
He signalled to his team—they began filing out. The medical crew whisked Tanktop Master away. The official paused at the door.
"One more thing." The official turned back, hand on the doorframe. His eyes studied Yoshino—then briefly Genos.
"You two are... an anomaly. But anomalies can be controlled." He spoke as if memorizing a warning. "Keep that in mind."
He left. The shop fell silent for a moment.
"if you think that is a threat. He truly doesn't know who he is messing with."
Genos nodded firmly beside Yoshino. "Sensei is correct. That official overestimates his position."
The shop owner slid another plate of chashu forward—unprompted this time. "On the house," he muttered—eyes wide with respect.
Yoshino picked up his chopsticks. "Thanks old man."
The door opened again. A familiar silver-haired figure stepped in—Bang.
Bang's eyes swept the room—settling on Yoshino. A sharp, knowing glint flickered in them. He walked to the counter and ordered tea—completely ignoring the official's earlier presence.
"You made quite a mess today." His voice was smooth—calm. "The Hero Association is already panicking."
"well, he had it coming and you're Silverfing right you were there during the meteor incident."
Bang raised an eyebrow—genuine surprise crossing his weathered face. "You recognize me?" He sipped his tea slowly. "Most heroes barely acknowledge me these days. They think I'm just an old man past his prime."
He set the teacup down carefully.
"And yes. I was there during the meteor incident." His eyes narrowed slightly. "How do you know about that?"
"because I was there and just because you're incredibly silent, old man doesn't mean I can't see you. I also respect to you because of your martial art arts skills."
Bang lowered his teacup—a rare, genuine smile touching his lips. Most young heroes only saw his rank; they ignored the decades of discipline etched into his stance.
"Your senses are sharper than your reputation suggests." He nodded slowly. "And you respect the martial arts? That is rare in this era of raw power." He glanced toward Genos.
Bang's smile deepened. He turned his teacup slowly—studying the steam curling off the surface.
"Tanktop Master relies too much on his physical strength. No technique. No discipline. He charges at everything like a bull." He took a long sip. "You simply taught him a lesson he should have learned years ago."
He set the cup down with a soft clink.
"That said."Bang's eyes sharpened—the old martial artist's presence shifting.
"the Association doesn't forget slights easily. They'll watch you now. Closely."
He leaned forward slightly.
"You say you respect martial arts." His voice was measured. "Then you understand that power without control is just destruction. Keep that in mind, Yoshino."
He stood—leaving a few bills on the counter.
Yoshino finished his broth—set the bowl down with a satisfying clack.
"Control has never been my problem, old man. It's other people's inability to control themselves that causes issues." He tilted his head—eyes meeting Bang's with an unreadable calm. "But I appreciate the advice."
Bang paused at the door—letting out a low chuckle.
"You remind me of someone I used to know."
He didn't name the person, but the weight of that unspoken comparison hung heavy in the air. Bang's parting gaze held a mix of curiosity and wariness before he pushed through the door—vanishing into the bustling crowd outside. Genos leaned over to Yoshino. "Sensei."He gestured toward the door."Something to report?"
"it's probably nothing important. Let's just pay for our food and go home."
Genos nodded and slid a few bills onto the counter—more than enough to cover the meal. The shop owner bowed deeply as they stood.
"Thank you for your service today," the old man said quietly. "Both of you. We don't get many heroes in this part of the city."
Yoshino gave a small nod before stepping outside. The afternoon sun was warm—the streets surprisingly quiet despite the earlier chaos.