The city was quiet again, though its streets still bore the scars of the night before. Shattered glass glittered on sidewalks, broken walls leaned precariously, and black scorch marks spread across what had once been clean white stone.
But amidst the ruin, there was life. People emerged from shelters, voices carrying hope where panic had reigned. And more than once, in hushed tones, a name or rather, a description was spoken.
"The man who stood against the monsters.""The one who wouldn't fall."
No one knew his name. But everyone remembered his presence.
Inside the Hero Association's branch office, the mood was different. Screens replayed shaky footage taken on civilian phones. Grainy images of Kaizen, bloodied and torn, standing against the massive wolf-creature. Audio clips of his guttural cry as he brought the monster down.
"He's not in our registry," one investigator muttered. "Not a licensed hero. Not even flagged as a vigilante."
"Then what is he?" another demanded. "A civilian? No ordinary man could take that kind of punishment."
Some whispered the possibility he was a monster an anomaly that had chosen to fight for humanity instead of against it. Others argued he was simply a martial artist, one who had reached an extraordinary peak.
But none could deny the truth captured in the footage: he had endured.
Far from the glowing screens of the Association, in a simple dojo tucked away in City A, an old man poured himself tea. Bang Silver Fang sat cross-legged, his sharp eyes watching the steam curl from the cup.
His students whispered nearby, their voices low but urgent.
"Did you hear? A man fought monsters barehanded in City J.""Not just fought he won. They say he was torn apart but kept getting back up.""Sensei, do you think it's true?"
Bang set his cup down slowly, his expression unreadable. "People exaggerate when fear fuels their tongues. But…" His brow furrowed, the faintest hint of intrigue lighting his eyes. "If there is truth to it, then perhaps there is someone out there who has chosen the path of pure endurance. That is… rare."
A rare smile tugged at his lips. "I would like to meet him."
Not far away, another set of ears caught the rumor ears belonging to someone far less serene.
Garou leaned against a wall in the city's underbelly, arms crossed, a faint sneer tugging at his lips. The words of passersby drifted to him like wind-blown embers.
"A man who wouldn't fall…""He fought with nothing but his body.""He killed monsters stronger than heroes could handle…"
Garou's golden eyes narrowed.
"Someone like that… huh?" he muttered. His grin widened, sharp and wolfish. "Sounds like a challenge."
To Garou, the idea of a man fighting monsters wasn't inspiring it was infuriating. It meant someone else was encroaching on his warpath, someone else drawing eyes and whispers. And Garou had no intention of sharing the spotlight.
If he stood against monsters, Garou thought, let's see if he can stand against me.
Meanwhile, Kaizen sat in the quiet of a small abandoned building he'd claimed as a temporary refuge. His body was a battlefield of bruises and stitched wounds, but beneath the pain lay a strange calm.
He had proven something not to the world, but to himself.
His fists still ached from the strikes. His arms burned from holding the wolf's jaws apart. His ribs protested each breath. But even through the suffering, he smiled faintly.
Endurance is not about never being broken, he thought. It's about standing even when broken.
He remembered the faces of the civilians watching from the rubble, the awe in their eyes. For the first time, he saw his training reflected outward not just personal growth, but the strength to protect others.
Still, doubt crept at the edges of his mind. The monsters had fallen, yes. But how many more were out there? Stronger. Faster. Crueler.
Would his endurance be enough when the storm truly arrived?
The Hero Association continued its investigation, analysts working through the night.
One official slammed his hand against the desk. "We need him registered. If he's a hero, he needs to be monitored. If he's a monster, he needs to be eliminated."
But the debate raged without conclusion. There was no data, no record only shaky footage and survivor accounts.
And so the legend of the "Unyielding Man" spread without a name, carried by whispers from city to city.
Bang took a slow walk that evening, his thoughts heavy. He had spent decades perfecting his martial art, watching generations of students fail, succeed, and drift away. He had seen talent and wasted potential. He had seen arrogance and despair.
But endurance the kind whispered of now that was something different. Something fundamental.
"I must find him," Bang murmured. "Before someone else does."
In a shadowed alley of City F, Garou cracked his knuckles, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Let's see if this unyielding fool can endure me."
And far away, Kaizen closed his eyes, unaware that his path was now pulling him into the orbit of two figures who would define his fate:
One who sought to guide him.And one who sought to break him.