The Dojo was cleared.
The Disciples were let off early for once.
But curiosity and gossip kept them lingering—another rarity.
Aokiji showed no mercy, forming an ice slide and hurling the front-runners down.
"If you don't leave now, the slide will sprout extras—crossed ice-blades, perhaps. Need I throw you?"
Everyone shook their heads frantically.
They meekly sat and slid away.
The limited-time ice-slide was back, and it felt good.
A hundred white-robed Disciples shot down the mountainside in one slick line.
The Dojo fell silent.
The starving wolf, dug out of the earth, still lay unconscious on the wooden floor.
Masked Hero held a shard of the ice helmet and, from beneath the frozen visor, recounted what had happened.
Bang's expression grew more complicated with every word.
"This brat… someone kindly tried to help him rest and he opened with a punch!"
He even forced Masked Hero to fight.
When the man refused, he kept chasing him down.
How did such a scoundrel end up among my Disciples?
"Retribution for the sins of my youth…" Bang sighed.
"Very well, I've nothing more to say. Let the boy reflect in prison for a while."
'…Sorry, Great Master Bang,' Masked Hero said quietly.
"I'm the one who should apologise," Bang shook his head.
"Enough. Don't worry about my feelings—wrongdoing deserves punishment."
"Since Aokiji asked me to guide you, he must see promise. I'll teach you properly," Bang said, rubbing his back.
Even with those assurances, Masked Hero remained uneasy.
A childhood of scorn had left him hypersensitive.
He glanced at Aokiji lounging nearby.
He recalled Aokiji's description of Bang: a pillar of the martial-arts world, powerful, a bona-fide Hero, a humorous old man who'd strayed in youth and long since mended his ways—basically a human special-move… ignoring the occasional joke.
Masked Hero could hear the respect in Aokiji's voice.
To avoid any hiccup in his training… "Great Master, normally I'd welcome a spar, but what just happened was… exceptional."
He slowly lifted off the ice helmet.
Revealing his disfigured face to Bang.
"Mr Aokiji didn't tell you the details—not because he values me, but because…"
He poured out his past, his wish to change, how he'd sought Aokiji's help—everything.
To prove he hadn't deliberately escalated the fight.
He'd had no choice.
If exposure weren't a risk, he wouldn't mind being thrashed in a match.
Bang had never thought him at fault.
Learning the full story made his breath catch.
The man had been born disfigured, raised amid cruelty and scorn, yet his mind hadn't twisted—he'd joined the Hero Association to uphold justice.
All he wanted was to lessen his defect.
And Garou had beaten him for it?!
Though Bang knew Garou had been unaware, his fists itched to knock some sense into his chief Disciple.
"Brother, the punches you gave me back then weren't fast enough! Not nearly harsh enough!!"
"So that's the situation… When I train here, I'll still need the helmet. If your Disciples mind—"
"They won't. Absolutely not," Bang assured him.
Meanwhile he resolved to warn the brats not to pry at the helmet.
Aokiji hoisted the unconscious Garou.
"You two talk; I'm taking this one away."
Outside the Dojo, an enormous Azure Dragon soared up.
Its talons gripped Garou.
Bang watched the figure punch through the clouds.
Eyes too clear for an old man reflected the parting sea of cloud.
Garou… I hope what you just heard changes you.
Above the cloud-sea, oxygen was thin and biting cold.
The colossal dragon lowered its head to the boy in its claws.
"Awake? Any thoughts?"
'…'
Garou opened his eyes in silence.
The freezing gale made his eyelids tremble.
Dizziness and pain from being planted head-first still lingered.
Yet Masked Hero's words echoed in his skull.
Seeing no reply, Aokiji went on: "He's no perfect Hero, but after all that darkness he still clings to justice. What about you, Garou?"
Garou's heart clenched.
His creed had been born from childhood bullying.
The class favourite made him play the Monster, beat him for fun; the moment he resisted, everyone turned on him.
Classmates held him down while letting the other boy hit.
The teacher blamed him outright, no questions asked.
Even his parents didn't care—
All because the other kid was more popular.
That day he realised the world was wrong and began plotting how to fix it.
Yet those memories were nothing beside a life spent in true malice.
Pain can't be measured, of course.
But Garou wondered what he'd have become in Masked Hero's place.
What he'd done to Masked Hero was no different from what had been done to him—
Maybe worse.
"You'll have plenty of time to think—and to grow stronger," Aokiji said.
"Inside Stinky Prison waits a "mentor" with unique skills; he'll make you crave power from the heart."
—Stinky Prison—
"Oh~ darling~ last night's sleep was so warm and soft~"
An afro, bulging muscles, a heart-patterned prison uniform.
Puri-Puri Prisoner lay on the bed, chin in cupped hands, ogling yesterday's newcomer with lust-filled eyes.
A senior Hero Association Fat Executive—no, just Fat Prisoner now.
His face was ashen, his usual warm smile obliterated.
Only grey exhaustion remained.
"Why so glum~?" Puri-Puri Prisoner cooed, cradling the plump cheeks.
To him, that chubby face was adorable!
"Was I too rough? Sorry~♥️ Who told you to scheme and send me so many darling "boyfriends"?"
"Time for another Deep-Kiss♥️ Punishment~~♥️♥️"
Fat Prisoner screamed in despair: "No—mmph! Mmmph!!"
The wails and mysterious splashes echoed down to the recreation yard.
Legends of crime whose horrific deeds still terrified the outside world filled Stinky Prison.
Yet now these feared mythic criminals, hearing those screams, trembled in terror.
Some bashed their own heads to forget what they'd endured.
Even legends were merely that man's harem here.