A side-kick ripped through the air!
Masked Hero arched backward.
A savage whip-leg slammed toward Garou's waist!!
He had no patience left for this stalemate.
''Too slow, amateur.''
Garou's arm flowed like water, slapping the leg aside!
The air rippled like a pond.
Intercepting the strike, he clamped his fingers around Masked Hero's calf.
''Decent power—stronger than these scrubs, at least,'' Garou sneered.
''But an amateur stays an amateur!''
With a flex of muscle he hurled Masked Hero away.
Still protecting the helmet, Masked Hero landed in a clumsy roll across the floor.
He wasn't actually weak.
His current strength could squeeze into the future A-class ranks.
Yet, as Garou said, he was untrained—no systematic combat knowledge.
And he had to guard the cracked helmet, terrified his real face would show.
A heart full of doubt is brittle.
Garou shot forward, flinging every Senior Brother who tried to block him.
He crossed the hall in a blur.
Reaching Masked Hero, he drove a front kick powered by his sprint.
Bang—
Masked Hero blocked with one arm and skidded meters across the boards.
''Hey, where's your heroic resolve?!'' Garou clicked his tongue.
He wasn't here just to beat heroes for fun!
Garou only wanted to see, apart from Aokiji and the old man, what Pro Heroes fight for.
What belief keeps them standing.
Yet all he felt in that kick was frantic desperation he couldn't understand.
''You keep protecting that helmet.'' Garou narrowed his eyes. ''Is it precious? What happens if it breaks?''
Masked Hero froze for an instant.
Then an unnatural Aura surged from him.
Dark and twisted—
''Finally getting serious?'' Garou's Battle Intent flared.
They moved at the same instant!
Clashing in the center of the Dojo!
The other Disciples had no chance to intervene.
Sour Face barked at the stunned Charanko:
''Stop gawking! Go get Mr. Aokiji—now!''
Inside the hall they had already traded several blows.
Masked Hero was clearly outclassed; instincts honed against Monsters were transparent to a Genius of martial arts.
But victory wasn't his goal.
Two torrent-like strikes arrived almost together!
His armor absorbed one hit.
He crossed his arms above his head, blocking the second!
The blow jarred his arms into the helmet, widening the crack.
He braced at an angle, barely staying upright.
Under the helmet his face contorted further.
He stamped both feet and launched!
Still shielding his head, he charged straight at Garou.
''Pathetic, inefficient Move,'' Garou sneered, sliding aside.
Ready to counter, he—
Realized Masked Hero wasn't stopping at all!
Using the charge, he bolted straight for the gate!
Through the cracked visor his gaze was fierce.
He'd finally found hope of living like a normal person!
He wouldn't let some vicious brat snatch it away!
''Running from battle—what kind of hero does that?!'' Garou's face darkened.
He sprinted in pursuit!
Striking at Masked Hero's back again and again!
Masked Hero ignored everything, arms locked over the helmet.
The hits staggered him, yet he kept running!
Even Garou, furious at this 'dereliction of heroism,' hesitated.
What… is this guy doing?
After all this, even an ordinary man would fight back—yet he only flees?
That instant of doubt—
Let Masked Hero reach the doorway!
Crack—snap—
The helmet split; shards clattered to the floor.
He didn't stop, hand clamped over his face.
Everyone was behind him now.
As long as he didn't turn, no one would see!
He burst through the gate and was gone!
All they caught was a glimpse of tousled hair.
Glancing at the broken helmet, Garou ran after him.
Other Disciples moved to follow—
A sheet of ice skimmed across the floor, spikes sealing the entrance.
''The moment I start to Cultivate, you cause trouble,''
Aokiji said, walking in on a thin layer of frost.
He had been focusing inward, sensing the will of the Devil Fruit.
And this brat Garou had to start a fight.
After all, last time Aokiji even took him to act in a film.
''Keep training. Don't go out, and don't eavesdrop.''
With that, Aokiji vanished.
Outside the Dojo
Garou blocked the mountain path, shouting at the arm-covering figure:
''You'd abandon a hero's duty and run even while I hit you—why?!''
Masked Hero's arms still hid his face.
Countless memories of disgust and rejection welled up.
Since becoming a hero, for the first time he hadn't felt those suffocating stares.
The public's praise was an addictive drug he never wanted to lose.
If it vanished and the past returned—or grew worse—he couldn't bear it.
A ragged roar slipped from behind his arms:
''I don't owe you answers! Move!''
''Answer me or—''
Boom—!!
Aokiji appeared, slamming Garou head-first into the ground!
Tiles shattered; Garou's head planted in the soil.
''Or what?''
Hearing Aokiji's voice, Masked Hero peeked through his fingers and finally relaxed nerves stretched to breaking.
For an instant
Dark thoughts had surged—so vile he dared not recall them.
He had almost become someone else.
''Th-thank you…''
''Wear this—it's a bit cold.''
Aokiji shaped a simple helmet from ice and tossed it over.
Then he phoned Sitch.
''It's me. Contact Stinky Prison; I'm delivering a juvenile who attacked a hero.''
''…Right, fifteen years old.''
''…Reform school won't do, nor will regular jail; Stinky Prison at least has people who can handle him.''
''Book a cell; I'll bring him over later and let him stew inside for a while.''
At the end
Aokiji looked down the mountain steps:
''That okay, Bang?''
Bang, just back and steps from his own Dojo, stood bewildered.
Taking in the scene—and Garou buried head-down—he managed:
''…Could this old man hear what exactly happened?''