"Kenji, what are you spacing out for?"
Zhu Yuan's voice was steady as she gently tapped the conference table to reclaim his attention. She wasn't angry; her gaze held a genuine, professional curiosity. As a team leader, she made it a point to look out for her subordinates, especially the green ones.
"Sorry, Captain. I was just thinking about that Giant Tooth Gang case," Kenji replied, adjusting his posture. "I was wondering... do you think anyone is actually happy that a masked Rider stepped in to save those people?"
It was a question born of his own internal conflict. When a person suddenly finds themselves holding the power of a god, overthinking is an occupational hazard. He had to remind himself that he hadn't "borrowed" this power—he had bought these belts with his own hard-earned money back on Earth. In a cosmic sense, they were his property.
"Isn't that obvious?" Zhu Yuan said with a firm nod. "The victims' families are certainly happy. With that cancerous gang eradicated, hundreds of people no longer have to live in fear. As a Security Officer, I can't officially approve of vigilantism... but sometimes, it takes a wolf to deal with the sharks."
"That's good to hear," Kenji said, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. Zhu Yuan's affirmation—even if unofficial—brightened his mood considerably. It was a small comfort to know his Henshin moments weren't just chaotic noise in the city's history.
"What are you looking so satisfied for? It's not like you were the one who did it," Qingyi muttered, her digital eyes flickering.
Kenji maintained a face as steady as an old hound, though a phantom drop of cold sweat threatened to prickle his brow. "If I had that kind of power, Senior, why would I be here as your junior? I'd be off ruling the world by now."
"Hahaha! At least you're realistic," Qingyi laughed, the tension in the room dissipating.
Zhu Yuan joined in the laughter. They had both seen Kenji's file; his only standout metric was his durability. The unknown Rider was a high-output glass-shatterer who ended fights in seconds. Kenji, by all official accounts, was a human sandbag.
"Alright, enough daydreaming," Zhu Yuan said, standing up. "Follow me, Kenji. Your custom uniform is ready."
She led him to the Special Task Force's locker room. Previously, it had been the sole domain of an officer named Seth, but a new locker now bore Kenji's name. Hanging inside was the standard-issue STF combat suit. The lower half mirrored Zhu Yuan's tactical gear, while the top consisted of a black, high-compression shirt with reinforced blue sleeves—the signature colors of the New Eridu PSB.
"Since your role is the 'Durable Vanguard,' a shield is non-negotiable," Zhu Yuan explained, treating him with a protective, almost elder-sisterly care. "We have a few options for your off-hand weapon. What are you most comfortable with?"
Kenji's job, simply put, was to be the "Main Tank." He was expected to charge into the Ether-fog, draw the Ethereals' aggression, and provide cover for Zhu Yuan's high-precision fire. He didn't actually need a shield, but showing up to a monster fight with nothing but his bare chest would raise too many questions.
"A one-handed sword, I think," Kenji said after a moment's thought.
Most Kamen Riders were proficient with blades. While Kenji himself had no formal training—he'd mostly be swinging it with the "flailing amateur" style—it didn't really matter. The weapons generated by the Rider Systems were forged from materials unknown to this world, possessing a demonic sharpness that made Ethereals look like they'd seen a ghost. If his Gacha gave him a sword, he'd use it; if not, the PSB blade would serve as a decent prop.
"Standard issue? Or do you want something specialized?" Zhu Yuan asked.
"Standard is fine for now."
The rest of Kenji's first day passed in a blur of orientation. He spent his time familiarizing himself with the weight of the PSB shield. Once he reached a baseline proficiency, Zhu Yuan promised to take him to a low-risk Companion Hollow for live-fire training.
One unique perk of the Criminal Investigation Special Task Force was the authorization to wear their combat suits outside the bureau. The gear was made of specialized Ether-resistant fibers that didn't just protect the wearer—it enhanced their physical output. Because the STF was on twenty-four-hour standby, they were expected to be ready to deploy even from their own living rooms. It was why the public almost never saw Zhu Yuan in casual clothes; she was a woman permanently on alert.
At 5:00 PM sharp, Kenji clocked out. He had big ideals, but he was still a former office worker at heart: he didn't do unpaid overtime.
He bid goodbye to Zhu Yuan and Qingyi in the parking lot and roared off toward Sixth Street on his motorcycle. As he rode past the local arcade, his gaze was reflexively drawn to a shadowy alleyway nearby. Usually, it was just a spot for local punks to smoke, but today the vibe was different.
A group of "socially questionable" men had cornered a young girl. She was dressed in a classic high school sailor uniform, her face strikingly beautiful, marked by two distinct tear moles at the corner of her left eye.
However, it wasn't her face that caught Kenji's attention—it was the massive, powerful shark tail swaying behind her. In New Eridu, these demi-humans were known as Thierren. He'd seen cat and dog types, but a shark? That was new. She looked like a predator that had somehow evolved a strange, fantasy-tier cuteness.
Kenji slowed his bike. The girl didn't look particularly distressed, but the men surrounding her were clearly up to no good.
"Wild evolution, indeed," Kenji muttered, his hand drifting toward his waist where an invisible belt waited to manifest. "Even the sharks have to deal with pests on land."