Chapter 39: "Please Don't Die (But Also, Welcome!)"
In which my friends get evaluated like produce, and we all commit to possible doom with a thumbs up.
You know how they say morning runs clear your head?
Yeah. That's not how it went.
There I was, happily jogging through the peaceful streets, dodging pigeons and grumpy old ladies with brooms—long story, don't ask—when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Now, usually I ignore calls during my jogs—fitness first, after all—but when it said "Hermes: Do Not Trust This Man" on the screen, I figured I should probably pick up.
"Yo, sunshine," I answered, still keeping pace. "What's the damage?"
"Athena and Hephaestus are down," Hermes said bluntly.
I stopped mid-stride, nearly getting flattened by a bicycle. "Wait. What? I was going to beat them up myself!"
"Too late," he replied. "Both their gangs got stomped and absorbed. Whole thing happened last night. Single guy did it. Calls himself Zeus."
I blinked. "Zeus? Like… Greek mythology Zeus?"
"Yup."
"And he wears a white suit?"
"White suit. Clean shoes. Pocket square. Guy looks like he walked straight out of some luxury crime drama."
"…Damn," I muttered, wiping sweat from my forehead. "The guy has style. We definitely need someone in charge of wardrobe. I'm thinking crimson coats, leather belts, maybe matching earrings—"
"You're trying to sponge off my money again, aren't you?" Hermes deadpanned.
"Hey, look, these powers don't come free. You gotta invest in the brand!" I grinned. "What kind of self-respecting superhuman gang leader wears basic sweatpants?"
"You're literally wearing sweatpants right now."
"That's training gear, Hermes. It's different."
I kept walking now, cooling off from my jog while Hermes filled me in.
According to him, this new guy—Zeus—didn't just take over. He humiliated Athena and Hephaestus. Beat them down, took their symbols, and gave a speech about "evolution" and "the old gods falling before the new order."
Which, yeah.
Dramatic much?
"So we've got a possibly supernatural fashion icon with a god complex," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "Fantastic."
"Sounds like your type," Hermes replied.
Let me just say this—parkour is way cooler when you're actually good at it.
And I'm awesome at it.
I was running along rooftops like a caffeinated squirrel, hopping over antennas, dodging pigeons, and using spiritual energy to boost my speed so I could zip down streets like a human blur. Some old guy on a scooter almost choked on his tea when I leapt past.
Worth it.
I finished my morning jog with a backflip from a two-story wall, a soft roll, and a perfectly casual walk into Red Dawn headquarters. If there had been theme music, it would've been electric guitar and dramatic wind.
Instead, there was just Shōgo lifting a truck tire and muttering, "Took you long enough."
The rest of the team was already there—Haruki stretching like a nervous noodle, Hana sipping some terrifyingly green health smoothie, and Reina practicing kicks that probably violated several laws of physics. Hermes was lounging on a beanbag with his tablet, no doubt researching something expensive.
They all looked up when I arrived, and judging by their expressions, they'd gotten the same news I had.
"So, Zeus, huh?" Reina asked, her voice somewhere between amused and wary.
"Yeah," I said, grabbing a towel. "Apparently he's our new neighborhood problem."
"Are we handling it?" Tōma asked.
I shook my head. "Nope. I am."
That got a few raised eyebrows.
"If this guy wants to play god, he's gonna have to deal with me—and my spiritual power that turns me into a walking supernova."
"Unless it's, like, the real Zeus," Kenta piped up. "Y'know, actual immortal king of the gods and lightning and stuff."
I paused.
"…In that case, I'll fight him respectfully," I said. "With all due reverence. And possibly an escape route."
Still, I wasn't worried. There was a calm in my chest, a confidence that came from knowing I wasn't alone.
I had a team.
I had Vhalor.
I had cool hair.
Which brings me to the real point of this morning:
Field trip.
"I met with the masters at Ryūseikan," I told them, waving off Hermes's dramatic reaction. "They're the real deal. Top-tier martial artists. They might not shoot lasers from their eyes, but they could probably punch through a tank if they felt like it."
"Awesome," Shōgo said, his eyes gleaming with battle hunger.
"They're also terrifying," I added. "But, like, in a friendly uncles-who-could-kill-you kind of way."
"So why are we meeting them?" Hana asked, slurping the rest of her smoothie.
"Because I'm not going to be your teacher."
Everyone turned toward me.
"Rude," Haruki muttered. "After everything we've been through?"
"Hey," I said, holding up my hands, "I'm great at showing off, terrible at lesson plans. Remember when I told Kenta to 'just keep trying until something happens'?"
"That actually helped," Kenta said.
"Not the point," I replied. "The point is, I'm not structured. I'm chaotic. What you guys need are masters who will break your bodies, rebuild you, and make you cry in ways you didn't think were possible."
"…That sounds horrible," Hana said.
"Exactly!" I grinned. "Which means it works."
So, we made the decision.
Today, we were going to meet the terrifying legends of Ryūseikan.
I'd introduce the team, bow respectfully, and try really hard not to get any of them accidentally thrown through a wall.
Just a normal day with my gang of aspiring superhumans.
You know how sometimes you hype something up to your friends, and then the universe decides to one-up you just to rub it in your face?
Yeah.
That's exactly what happened when we reached Ryūseikan.
The place looked like the kind of martial-arts compound where a final trial would happen—massive gates, ancient wooden walls, and enough atmosphere to make even confident people hesitate before knocking.
Everyone in Red Dawn just stood there looking toward the entrance.
Kenta muttered, "We're really doing this, huh?"
I cracked my knuckles. "Yup. Welcome to the place where pain is a teaching method."
Shōgo stepped forward and tried pushing open the door like a brave little idiot.
Spoiler:
Nothing happened.
Tōma gave it a try next.
Nope.
Hermes simply stared at it like he was trying to figure out whether money could solve the problem.
I was about to show off and open it myself when she appeared.
The door swung open like it weighed nothing.
And standing there was Airi Tendō, with delicate features, sharp amber eyes, long pale-gold hair tied neatly behind her, and two massive bags of groceries hanging from one hand like they contained feathers instead of enough food to supply the dojo.
"Welcome," she said calmly. "You must be Kaito's friends?"
"I—uh—I'm Haruki," Haruki said, sounding like someone had punched all the air from his lungs.
Ah, yes.
The ancient and powerful technique known as Love at First Sight had struck again.
To be fair, I didn't blame him. Airi had that combination of calm strength and kindness that could apparently make a teenage boy forget his own name.
But it was hilarious watching Haruki's brain short-circuit.
The rest of us managed polite bows and greetings while Haruki stood there with pink cheeks trying to remember how breathing worked.
Airi led us inside, chatting pleasantly while we passed through the training courtyard and deeper into the dojo. The entire time, Haruki stayed about two steps behind her like an awkward duckling.
"She's strong," Reina whispered, watching Airi's effortless movement.
"She's terrifying," Hermes added, sounding more intrigued than afraid. "Imagine what the old man can do."
I grinned. "Oh, you'll find out."
Because if there was one thing Ryūseikan didn't do, it was subtle.
These masters trained fighters by turning them into exhausted piles of muscle and regret before building them back up again.
We had officially entered the realm of pain, growth, and extremely polite martial-arts monsters.
And poor Haruki?
He'd already taken his first hit.
Straight to the heart.
I always thought meeting the head of a dojo should involve some wise old master sitting there with tea and saying cryptic things like, "The greatest opponent lies within."
Instead, Genryūsai Tendō, Elder of Ryūseikan, looked like he could carry a freight train as a warm-up exercise.
When we entered the main hall, he turned and smiled. It was warm, grandfatherly…and somehow still managed to radiate you will be destroyed during training and thank me afterward energy.
"Old man," I said with the kind of confidence only a teenager with questionable regard for mortality could have, "these are my friends. They want in."
Genryūsai's eyes brightened.
He stepped forward, looking over each of them, and within seconds seemed to have evaluated more about them than most trainers could figure out in an hour.
First up:
Haruki.
"Very ordinary," the old man declared, stroking his beard thoughtfully.
Haruki looked like he'd just been informed he was made of tofu.
"Hey, I'm very determined tofu," he muttered.
Respect.
Hana got a gentler assessment.
"Also ordinary…but young. Malleable. Plenty of time to develop."
"…That's flattering," Hana whispered.
Then came Shōgo.
The Elder blinked.
"Oh my."
Shōgo waited.
"This one is a monster."
Shōgo smirked. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me."
Reina received a respectful nod.
"Strong. Fire in the heart. Excellent."
Reina actually looked pleased.
Ryōhei, with his injured arm, received a quiet "promising" and a pat on the shoulder that nearly made him stumble.
Tōma and Kenta?
"Ordinary. You would require extraordinary determination to walk this path."
They looked at one another.
Kenta shrugged.
Tōma gave a thumbs-up like he had just been assigned double homework and somehow accepted the challenge.
"Some of you are naturally suited for this," Genryūsai said, his tone becoming serious. "Some of you are not. And I will not lie to you. This training can break your body or your spirit if you approach it carelessly. The world you are entering contains monsters, not merely in strength, but in mind. Some people become stronger through hardship. Others become twisted by it."
He looked across the group, giving every one of them the opportunity to back away.
I could feel the air change.
This was it.
The moment where ordinary people either said thanks, but no thanks…
or stepped forward.
Haruki moved first.
His knees were shaking slightly.
His eyes weren't.
"I'm scared," he admitted, "but I want to protect the people I care about. If I don't try, I'll regret it."
I felt a grin spread across my face.
That's my tofu boy.
Genryūsai stared at them all.
Then he burst into a deep laugh that echoed through the dojo like thunder.
"Well," he said, "I suppose we'll see who survives."