The hospital room was quiet, too quiet.
Monitor hummed softly. Morning light filtered through the window blinds, painting pale stripes across the floor. Outside, the world had already resumed its rhythm, but inside this room, time felt stalled.
Kaile lay back against her pillow, arms folded behind her head, staring at the ceiling with obvious boredom. After several seconds of silence, she let out an exaggerated sigh.
"You know," she muttered, "for beings with godlike powers, we sure live under a ridiculous number of rules."
Pathro glanced in her direction but said nothing.
Kaile continued, irritation creeping into her voice.
"So many laws created 'for humanity's sake.' Like the Law of Zutra, the one that temporarily strips us of our powers the moment we're about to do something that could kill a person." She clicked her tongue. "Feels like a bunch of gods deliberately shackling themselves just so mortals can sleep easier."
She turned her head slightly.
"I get that the restriction is temporary, but it's still annoying."
Kiligaku snorted softly from his bed.
"You say that like those laws weren't created because of people like you."
Kaile shot him a glare.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He shrugged.
"Power corrupts. Give someone overwhelming strength, and sooner or later they start seeing everyone else as irrelevant. And once that happens…" He gestured vaguely. "You get someone who thinks nuking the planet is a valid solution."
Pathro finally spoke, his tone calm but firm.
"I wouldn't call that corruption."
Everyone looked at him.
"Power doesn't corrupt," Pathro continued. "It reveals. It awakens something that was already there, something that simply couldn't act before because it lacked the means."
Toshiro shifted slightly on his bed, eyes half-lidded but sharp.
"It can be both," he said. "Depends on awareness."
He turned his head toward Pathro.
"If you were conscious of that side of yourself even before gaining power, then yes it's an awakening. But if that personality only emerges after you become strong, then from the outside…" He paused. "It looks indistinguishable from corruption."
Kaile frowned slightly, processing that.
Before anyone could respond
"What are you all yapping about?"
A yellow portal bloomed into existence in the center of the room, warping the air as if reality itself had been peeled open. A familiar figure stepped through.
Pathro's eyes widened slightly.
"Instructor Kamir?" he said. "What brings you here?"
The portal snapped shut behind her.
Kamir raised an eyebrow.
"No greeting?" she said dryly. "That question almost makes me feel unwelcome."
Pathro didn't reply, but his thoughts did.
That's because you are, he thought. Who just drops into a hospital room mid-conversation like that?
Kamir crossed her arms, scanning the room.
"I see you're all awake. Good." She nodded. "Not that I doubted it. Just wanted to check whether any of you were still unconscious."
Kiligaku flexed his fingers, staring at his arm.
"'Good' doesn't even begin to cover it," he said. "I lost my left arm during the test. I had wounds that should've left permanent scars." He looked up. "Now it's like none of it ever happened."
Kaile lifted her legs slightly under the blanket.
"Same here. I honestly thought I was dreaming when I woke up and saw my legs completely fine." She squinted. "Does someone here secretly have healing powers or something?"
Kamir shook her head.
"No. Not on this campus."
She continued calmly,
"You were treated with a liquid medication known as Lapza."
"Lapza?"
Kaile and Kiligaku echoed the word at the same time. Pathro and Toshiro remained silent.
Kamir glanced between them.
"You've never heard of it?"
Toshiro answered immediately.
"It was developed through research on the Ichigan's regenerative ability."
Kamir looked mildly impressed.
"When scientists learned that an Ichigan could regenerate from a single surviving cell," Toshiro continued, "they theorized that its regenerative mechanism could be reverse-engineered into a usable medical treatment. After years of research, they succeeded. The result was Lapza."
Kaile grimaced.
"Lapza," she repeated. "That's a weird name for medicine."
"It's named after the company that developed it," Pathro added. "Their biggest breakthrough. Took twelve years of research to make it viable, at least, that's what I heard."
Kamir chuckled.
"Seems we've got a room full of bookworms."
She nodded.
"But yes. That's exactly what Lapza does. It temporarily grants regenerative capabilities comparable to an Ichigan's,though with limits. It won't turn you into an immortal regeneration monster."
Kaile scowled.
"So that disgusting thing is the reason I'm healed?" she muttered. "Figures. I hated its regeneration when I fought it."
Toshiro exhaled quietly.
"Anyone would," he said. "Instant healing, infinite stamina, survival from a single cell… I doubt you seriously expected us to win against it at our current level."
Kamir nodded.
"We didn't."
The room stilled.
"That wasn't the goal," Kamir continued. "The purpose of that test was to observe how you fight when facing something that seems completely impossible to defeat."
She paused, then added,
"And yet… Pathro, Kiligaku, and Toshiro you three managed to kill the Ichigan."
Kaile's hands clenched beneath the blanket.
They killed it?
How?
Are they really that far ahead of me?
Her jaw tightened.
I thought I had caught up.
This is… irritating.
Kamir turned toward her.
"Kaile, you didn't succeed, but you still performed well. Don't dwell on the outcome."
Kaile scoffed and waved it off.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." She glanced up. "So unless you came here just to comfort my wounded pride, what do you actually want?"
Kamir smiled faintly.
She opened a small portal in front of her and reached inside, pulling out four neatly folded sets of clothing. The portal closed immediately after.
"The ceremony is starting soon," Kamir said. "Minutes, maybe a few hours."
She tossed one set to each of them.
"You're being publicly declared as soldiers today." Her eyes gleamed.
"It's time for the world to see its newest defenders."
The room fell silent as each of them stared at the clothes in their hands.
Pathro adjusted his grip on the folded uniform, then looked back toward Instructor Kamir just before she turned away.
"Hey," he said. "Before you leave… did the others succeed too?"
Kamir paused.
"The others?" she repeated. "Kasumi and the other two boys didn't manage to kill the Ichigan."
Kaile stiffened slightly, though she said nothing.
Kamir continued, her tone neutral.
"As for the other academy…" She glanced back at them. "Only one cadet succeeded."
Pathro's eyes sharpened.
"One?"
Kamir nodded.
"A boy named Kobayashi."
Kiligaku let out a low whistle.
"So the rumors were true," he said. "I've heard about that guy. Didn't think there was actually someone from that academy who could pull something like that off."
Pathro grinned, genuine excitement flickering across his face.
"I can't wait to meet him," he said. "Hopefully I get to spar with him someday."
Kaile looked away.
So there really is someone from that academy stronger than me, she thought.
…That's embarrassing.
This academy existed for a reason.
It was meant for the finest.
The exceptional.
Those who had passed the entrance examinations with overwhelming results.
Being a Zunan Fighter wasn't just prestigious it was the highest-paying profession in the world. With that level of reward came ruthless competition.
Naturally, the system was unforgiving.
Only candidates between the ages of fourteen and eighteen were eligible to even sit for the exams. Younger or older applicants were dismissed instantly, no exceptions. The logic was simple: powers granted too early or too late were statistically unstable.
The entrance examinations themselves were brutal.
Physical trials.
Intellectual assessments.
Psychological screenings.
And then there were the other tests ones that served no practical purpose other than thinning the herd. Tests designed to break spirits, to expose hesitation, fear, or lack of resolve.
Every year in Japan alone, nearly five hundred thousand candidates took the exams.
Only three hundred passed.
Those three hundred were sent to the primary academy on Okinawa Island.
As an act of political "grace," an additional two hundred were assigned to the second academy, bringing the total annual intake to five hundred.
That meant a success rate of roughly 0.1 percent.
One in a thousand.
The primary academy was known as Shindo.
The secondary academy was called Omake.
Shindo always claimed the top three hundred the most promising, the most refined. Omake received the remaining two hundred.
Kaile clenched her jaw.
And yet…
"Promising" is such a flimsy word, she thought. Too vague. Too forgiving.
If Kobayashi could kill an Ichigan—
Then the gap wasn't as clean as they liked to pretend.
Instructor Kamir clapped her hands once, breaking the silence.
"Well," she said, "I've got things to catch up on."
She turned toward the center of the room as a portal bloomed open behind her.
"Just get ready," she added over her shoulder.
And with that, she stepped through.
The portal snapped shut, leaving the room quiet once again.
Pathro unfolded the uniform Kamir had tossed him earlier, examining it carefully.
"Well," he said at last, standing up despite the lingering ache in his body, "guess that's our cue."
He glanced at the others, a faint smile forming.
"Time to get dressed, people."
The calm before the world finally saw them.
.....
It was nearing noon.
The sky above Japan was almost completely veiled by clouds thin, white, and scattered casting a muted light over the cities below. Despite their presence, there was no hint of rain. The air felt calm, deceptively so.
Across the country, people were tuned in.
Radios murmured inside cars caught in traffic. Televisions glowed in living rooms and cafés. In major districts, crowds gathered along the streets, eyes fixed on massive public screens mounted high above intersections.
"And now for our second headline."
A woman's voice rang out from Saiki TV, steady but tight with focus as she addressed not just Japan but potentially the entire world.
"Today, Japan celebrates the induction of its new soldiers, marking another year of successful recruitment."
She took a careful breath.
"As many of you know, January 2nd has been declared a national holiday in honor of the soldiers who will stand as the first line of defense for our nation."
Her eyes flicked briefly to her script.
"The ceremony will begin at 12:00 noon at Japan National Stadium in Shinjuku. A live broadcast will commence shortly once proceedings are underway."
The screen faded to visuals of the stadium.
Being a soldier in this world wasn't merely a profession it was a symbol of survival.
After all, soldiers were humanity's only answer to the constant threat of Zunans.
Even a Rokude-class Zunan, officially classified as weak,was capable of erasing multiple cities in a single blast.
For Japan, January 2nd wasn't just tradition.
It was gratitude.
It was fear.
It was hope.
Japan National Stadium Shinjuku
The stadium was already overflowing.
Crowds packed every seat, their excitement echoing through the structure. Trumpets blared. Whistles shrieked. Flags waved wildly in the air. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation it was obvious the ceremony was moments away from beginning.
High above the chaos, standing atop the roof on one side of the stadium, Vice-Captain Taneki gazed down at the masses below.
Unlike his usual attire, he wore a neatly pressed light-purple shirt tucked cleanly into black trousers, secured with a simple belt. Polished black shoes completed the look, making him appear more like an office worker than one of Japan's strongest defenders.
His hands rested casually in his pockets.
Without warning, a presence manifested beside him, no sound, no distortion, as though the air itself had simply decided she should exist there.
Taneki didn't turn.
"Look at you," a woman's voice teased. "All dressed up and professional. Who are you trying to impress?"
Taneki sighed.
"What do you want, Hayashi?"
The woman clicked her tongue.
Hayashi Vice-Captain of the Second Division stood beside him, her long blue hair swaying gently in the wind. Her sharp blue eyes matched the cold confidence in her posture, a long black coat draped loosely over her shoulders.
"You still don't know how to greet people, huh?" she said. "Relax. I didn't come to ask for anything."
Taneki finally glanced at her, expression unreadable.
She raised a finger.
"Fine. I came to tell you something."
His tone sharpened instantly.
"Related to the Ichigan attack?"
Hayashi nodded.
"Our latest statistics show a noticeable decrease in Ichigan populations within the Delay Universe," she said. "Not alarming, but significant."
Taneki frowned.
"You're suggesting someone is taking them?"
"Kidnapping, harvesting , call it whatever you want," she replied. "You get the idea."
Taneki scoffed lightly.
"And what would be the point of that?"
Hayashi turned toward the stadium below.
"Don't be dense," she said. "If someone is gathering Ichigans, there are only two possible targets."
She held up two fingers.
"Civilians," she continued. "Or…"
Her gaze narrowed.
"…today's new soldiers."
Taneki went quiet.
"If the target is civilians," he said slowly, "then everyone on Earth is at risk. But that's just mindless slaughter. No strategy."
He exhaled.
"But if the target is the new soldiers…"
"That's cutting off our future strength at the root."
He clenched his jaw.
"Still, that raises another problem. Separating them from us won't be easy. Whoever's behind this knows we wouldn't stand by and let that happen."
Hayashi crossed her arms.
"Rumor has it a dimensional barrier was used to hide the Ichigan during the New Year attack," she said. "That wasn't random."
She tilted her head.
"Do you really think the goal was just to kill people in that hall?"
Taneki shook his head.
"No," he said. "Either they were testing whether their method worked… or they were trying to provoke a reaction."
His eyes darkened.
"I just don't know what reaction they wanted or from whom."
For the first time, his confidence wavered.
Let's hope I'm wrong, Taneki thought.
Because if I'm not…
The ceremony bells began to ring.
And somewhere beneath the cheering crowd, something dangerous was already in motion.