The next day, Yoshino and Genos stood in a dusty rock quarry, discussing hero names and the Association's assignment process. The quarry was silent, only the sound of wind whistling through the rocky terrain. Genos was analyzing data on his internal systems, while Yoshino kept a watchful eye on the surrounding environment.
"Master Yoshino," Genos spoke suddenly,
Genos turned to his master, mechanical eyes gleaming with something almost... challenging. "Master Yoshino—I request a sparring match."
Simple. Direct. No preamble.
The quarry was perfect for it—wide open, durable terrain, no civilians to worry about. Genos had been ranked S Class, while Yoshino sat in B. The power gap on paper was significant.
Yoshino glanced at Genos, his calm expression never wavering despite the obvious challenge. On paper, Genos was S Class—the elite of the elite. Yoshino was B Class—merely competent. But both knew the truth. The power gap was non-existent.
"A sparring match, Genos?" Yoshino's voice was casual, almost dismissive.
Genos didn't need convincing. His mechanical systems hummed in anticipation, combat protocols already initializing. He knew the truth—despite their rankings, Yoshino's physical prowess was beyond anything the Association could quantify. The man who smashed punching machines through walls and broke every record wasn't just "B Class."
"No holding back?" Genos asked, dropping into a combat stance.
Genos dropped into a fighting stance, his mechanical body humming. "No holding back, Master Yoshino. I request a full-power sparring match."
Yoshino's expression remained calm, hands casually in his pockets. The quarry was empty—nothing but ancient rock and dust. On paper, Genos was S Class, a top-tier combatant. Yoshino was B Class.
Genos attacked without warning—his mechanical body moving with blinding speed. He launched a series of powerful blows—punches and kicks that could crack open mountains. Yoshino calmly evaded each attack—his movements fluid and precise. He only used his physical strength and speed—no special techniques or abilities. The quarry shook with the force of Genos' attacks.
Genos' sensors were struggling—Yoshino's evasion was near-perfect. Every punch landed on empty air, every kick met nothing but dust. The S Class cyborg increased his attack frequency—firing incineration cannons, launching missiles, moving faster than the human eye could track.
Yet Yoshino simply... dodged.
No cursed energy. No techniques. Just raw physical prowess.
Genos' internal systems were screaming warnings—target evasion rate was nearly 100%. He pushed harder—incineration cannons firing in rapid succession, missiles launched at unpredictable angles, moves that would have shattered a city block.
And still, Yoshino moved through them all—casually dodging every single attack like they were moving in slow motion.
"Master Yoshino—!"
Genos was losing his mind—his sensors couldn't track Yoshino. The man wasn't even using cursed energy—just raw speed and physical prowess. Every attack missed. Every incineration cannon hit nothing but rocks. Every missile exploded uselessly.
Genos accelerated to maximum speed—moving so fast the quarry seemed to stand still. And yet, Yoshino simply... stepped aside.
Genos was breathing heavily—his systems overheating from the relentless assault. He had pushed himself to his absolute limit, yet Yoshino hadn't even broken a sweat. The B Class hero stood casually, hands still in his pockets, dodging every single attack with minimal effort.
"Master Yoshino—how?!" Genos demanded, his mechanical voice cracking with frustration.
"Stop dodging and actually fight me!" Genos' voice was edged with frustration—almost angry. He wanted a real sparring match, not a game of cat and mouse. His mechanical eyes flared with a challenge. "No holding back. Give me a full-power confrontation."
*His massive hands clenched into fists, energy building in his palms.* "Fight me properly."
Yoshino exhaled slowly. The air pressure in the quarry shifted—ominous. Cursed energy reinforcement flooded his body—each muscle Fiber vibrating with overwhelming power. Then—the 10 Shinigami from the 10 Shadows technique stacked onto his form—each enhancing his abilities beyond comprehension.
His speed became immeasurable. His strength... apocalyptic.
He moved. One punch.
The impact was instantaneous—a punch so powerful it should have obliterated the entire quarry. But Yoshino stopped his fist mere millimeters from Genos' face. The air pressure alone from the stopped punch created a massive shockwave—a gust of wind so powerful it shattered the surrounding rock formations, sending debris flying across the quarry like shrapnel.
Genos stood frozen—his sensors completely overwhelmed.
Genos' mechanical eye flickered—sensor damage, critical warning. The shockwave alone had been catastrophic—shattering rock, destroying the quarry's formations. His systems were screaming—calculations couldn't comprehend the power behind that punch.
"Impossible—"
His voice glitched. He had just experienced the punch of an S Class—no, something beyond S Class.
Genos' sensors glitched wildly—trying to comprehend the sheer power behind that punch. The shockwave alone had been devastating—it could have easily decapitated him. Instead, it had only shattered the rocks behind him. His systems recorded a single word repeatedly: "UNQUANTIFIABLE".
"let's go get something to eat. I'm starving." said Yoshino turning and leaving.
Genos stood frozen—his systems still desperately trying to process what had just happened. The quarry behind him lay shattered—massive rock formations demolished by the mere wind pressure of a stopped punch. His sensors glitched, repeatedly flashing critical warnings.
"Master Yoshino—!"
But Yoshino was already walking away, hands back in his pockets as if nothing had happened.
Yoshino walked through the bustling town streets—the sun beating down after their intense sparring session. His stomach growled loudly. Surprisingly hungry after using that much cursed energy.
He spotted a small noodle restaurant—modest exterior, warm lighting, smell of miso ramen wafting through the open door. A classic. He slid inside, taking a seat at the counter.
An elderly woman smiled at him. "Welcome, young man."
Yoshino nodded politely—the elderly woman's warmth always a welcome sight. "One miso ramen, please. Extra pork."
She smiled knowingly. "Coming right up."
As she turned to prepare the noodles, Genos finally caught up—still processing the quarry incident, his systems still flagging critical errors. He collapsed onto a nearby stool, mechanical eyes wide.
Genos sat in stunned silence—his internal systems still cycling through data logs from the fight. Error after error. Calculation impossible. Damage report: quarry destroyed. Genos status: intact but shaken.
The old woman placed a steaming bowl of miso ramen in front of Yoshino. The rich broth, thick slices of chashu pork, soft-boiled egg—perfection.
The atmosphere in the restaurant shifted as a tall, imposing figure approached. Amai Mask—Class A Rank 1, known for his strict adherence to justice and overwhelming power. He was here to discuss something with Genos, but paused mid-step, his gaze snapping to Yoshino.
Amai Mask stopped, his piercing eyes narrowing as they locked onto Yoshino. He was an expert at judging strength—it was one of the few skills he didn't doubt in himself.
And the power radiating off this unassuming young man? It made his blood run cold.
"Hey." His cold voice cut through the chatter of the restaurant. "Who's this?"
Genos slowly turned his head—mechanical eye still tracking Yoshino's erratic energy readings. "Master Yoshino. B Class Rank 72."
Amai Mask's gaze remained fixed on the B Class youth sitting casually at the counter—the way he ate noodles, the casual dismissive posture, the almost effortless control of cursed energy... it all screamed of hidden power.
Amai Mask stepped closer—every movement calculated, beautiful, dangerous. He was the embodiment of perfection in the Hero Association's eyes.
"B Class?" He repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. "I felt something... from outside this restaurant. Then I stepped in and ran into *that*." He gestured vaguely at Yoshino. "Explain yourself, boy."
Yoshino slurped his noodles calmly before answering.
Yoshino swallowed his last bite of pork, setting down his chopsticks with a practiced gentleness. He looked up at Amai Mask—the imposing Class A hero.
"I'm a hero. B Class. Nothing more." His tone was flat. Completely flat.
Amai Mask's eyes narrowed—he didn't believe a single word of it. His instincts screamed otherwise.
Amai Mask stepped even closer—his tall frame towering over Yoshino. "Bullshit." His voice was cold as ice. "B Class heroes don't radiate power like that. They don't have that... presence." He paused, his eyes scanning Yoshino's calm face.
"Either you're lying—" He leaned down—mask inches from Yoshino's face. "Or you're hiding something you shouldn't."
The old woman behind the counter froze—sensing the sudden shift in tension. Two noodles dropped back into the broth.
Yoshino didn't flinch. He simply reached for his bowl again. "I'm not hiding anything."
Amai Mask's patience snapped. He grabbed the counter, leaning in—his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "B Class Rank 72 doesn't get approached by Class A Rank 1. And Class A Rank 1 doesn't fucking stutter in front of B Class." He pointed an accusatory finger at Yoshino.
Yoshino finally looked him dead in the eyes. No intimidation. No aggression. Just calm. "What do you want, Amai Mask?"
The name came out casually—like he was addressing a stranger he'd seen on TV once. Amai Mask's jaw tightened. Nobody talked to him like that. He was the golden boy of Class A—untouchable.
Amai Mask released the counter slowly. "I came here to discuss S Class matters with Genos. But first—" He paused. "I want to know who you really are. Because whatever that power was—" He lowered his voice. "It felt like S Class. Maybe higher."
Genos spoke up from his stool. "Master Yoshino is indeed B Class. His mental scores prevented higher placement."
Amai Mask scoffed—his gaze never leaving Yoshino. "Mental scores? That's the most pathetic excuse I've ever heard." He crossed his arms—imposing and beautiful. "You're either hiding something—or you're a waste of potential."
Yoshino slurped his noodles calmly—completely unbothered by the Class A hero's scrutiny.
"dude, I literally punched the punching machine through the building and plenty of heroes in S-class aren't that smart take metal bat for example."
Amai Mask's expression soured. The reference to Metal Bat—a crude, aggressive Class A hero known for his overwhelming strength and lack of intelligence—struck a nerve. Yoshino's comparison was pointed and accurate—Metal Bat was a prime example of power over mind.
"in any case, I'm finished here." Without another word, Yoshino stood up, sliding off the stool and leaving the money on the counter. He walked past Amai Mask casually, his gaze never lingering—as if the Class A hero were simply part of the background. The restaurant fell silent, all eyes watching the B Class hero leave.
Amai Mask watched him go, eyes narrow and thoughtful.
Amai Mask watched Yoshino leave, his expression unreadable. The restaurant remained silent for a moment longer before the old woman began clearing the table, muttering to herself in Japanese. Genos watched Yoshino disappear out the door, his mechanical eyes still flashing critical warnings. "Master Yoshino..."
Amai Mask straightened his tie—he had work to do. Class S matters required his attention. But as he walked out of the noodle shop, his thoughts kept drifting back to the unassuming young man. B Class Rank 72. Mental scores.
And that power.
He pulled out his phone, dialing the Hero Association. "This is Amai Mask."
"I need a full background check on a B Class hero—Yoshino, Rank 72." His voice was cold and precise. "And I want his mental score breakdown. Now."
The line crackled with hesitation—Amai Mask was known for his strictness, but requesting a background check on a B Class was unusual.
"Sir? Is there a problem with—"
Amai Mask interrupted—his voice sharp and commanding. "No problem. Just want to clarify something. Make sure everything is up to date. Rank 72, Yoshino. Mental scores. And full background history. Send it to me ASAP." He ended the call before the operator could ask more questions.
Yoshino walked casually through the bustling streets, his pace steady—like nothing had happened. Genos followed closely behind, still struggling to process the encounter.
"Master Yoshino—" Genos finally spoke, his mechanical voice hesitant. "Amai Mask is not someone to be dismissed lightly. He holds significant influence within the Hero Association."
Yoshino didn't even turn around.
Yoshino continued walking, unbothered by Genos' explanation. He was used to being underestimated—it was part of his strategy. The Hero Association saw him as a joke—a B Class hero with no real potential. And he let them believe it. It suited him.
Genos fell into step beside him—mechanical eye constantly monitoring Yoshino's subtle movements. "Master Yoshino, you could have answered him more respectfully. Amai Mask is the embodiment of justice in the eyes of the Association. Provoking him will only draw unnecessary scrutiny."
Yoshino finally turned his head— eyes flat and unimpressed.
"Tell me Genos when you fight do you fight to save lives or do you fight to be recognized?"
Genos blinked, caught off guard by the philosophical question. He paused, considering it briefly before answering honestly. "Both. I fight for justice, to protect innocent lives. But also for recognition—to prove my worth as a hero. Is that not what all heroes strive for?" He waited for Yoshino's response.
"And you?"
"I fight because if I can see someone in need help doing it I will help them if I can help someone in a little bit then I will that's what it actually means to be a hero so you can do whatever he wants socially because at the end of the day, I'm still gonna be saving people."
Genos fell silent—his mechanical eye whirring as he processed Yoshino's words. Simple. Honest. Devastatingly pure. He had spent so long calculating heroics—strategies, rankings, recognition—that he had almost forgotten the core purpose.
"Master Yoshino..." His voice wavered slightly. "That is... the purest definition of heroism I have ever heard."
Yoshino continued walking without acknowledgement—like his words were nothing special. Just common sense. Just what any hero should do. Genos nodded to himself—calculating this new data.
B Class. Rank 72. Mental score failure. Unassuming.
But those words about the true meaning of heroism had been too clear—too precise.