Yo, what's up, I hope I am really able to keep going and write this.
I have some ideas. The world is mostly young justice power scale-ish. I'll try my best to keep writing while I'm working.
I was considering keeping him a new form once he acquired a Mother Box. I just don't have an image for it. I was thinking it's a mixture of Ultimate Kuuga and Evolto as well as Hyper form Kabuto.
Anyway, for the heroine, you can suggest who is a Harem member.
Raven and Cassandra are already in the list. As well as Super girl. I consider the tomboy hair super girl but she's a clone of superman like Conner from young justice.
Also, I was thinking of making mc's grandmother appear in the story in the future.
I consider two candidates.
Natsu Inage from Taimanin or Seiko Ayase.
Obviously they won't be blood related cause those are safe to be dated 😏
That aside, hope you enjoy the chapter. I already finished chapter 5 and started with 6.
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[ Introduction Arc ]
Location: Gotham City
Time: 9:00 AM, Sunday
Date: March 18, 20xx
The sound of punching bags echoed through the training room.
Thud—CRACK!
Each strike Tendo delivered landed with terrifying precision. His fists slammed into the heavy bag again and again, the impact producing sharp, explosive sounds—almost like gunshots reverberating through the space. The bag swung violently under the force, chains rattling as if protesting his control.
He moved seamlessly—jab, cross, elbow, knee—his body flowing from one motion to the next without wasted effort. Every hit was clean and lethal.
Sweat rolled down his skin, tracing the lines of a body honed through relentless training. His physique was fit and defined, muscles flexing and contracting with each movement, strength earned rather than gifted. There was no hesitation in him.
The bag finally stilled.
Tendo stepped back, breathing steady, then reached up and grabbed the pull-up bar. His body rose smoothly, again and again, muscles straining as he completed each repetition with perfect form. When he dropped back down, he immediately lowered himself to the floor and began push-ups—controlled, precise, unwavering.
One.
Ten.
Twenty.
Not a single movement wasted.
Tendo didn't stop training.
His body continued to move—strike after strike, breath steady, form perfect—but his mind was elsewhere. Each impact against the bag echoed with something deeper, something heavier.
Fragmented memories surfaced.
Screams and Falling stone as the ground tears itself apart.
He remembered the earthquake vividly—the way the world collapsed without warning. Buildings crumbling like sand, streets splitting open as if swallowed whole. He remembered reaching out… and finding nothing.
His parents.
Gone.
Their voices were swallowed by the roar of destruction, leaving him buried beneath rubble, dust clogging his lungs as darkness pressed in from all sides. A child trapped beneath concrete and steel, waiting for the end.
But the end never came.
Time blurred. Pain dulled.
While he lay there beneath the shattered remains of the city, something else happened—something that shouldn't have been possible.
A sudden, blinding light pierced the darkness.
It burned through the dust and debris, flooding the confined space with an impossible radiance. Tendo instinctively raised an arm to shield his eyes as the light intensified, humming with an otherworldly presence.
And from within that light—
The belt appeared.
Untouched and Undamaged. Floating as if reality itself had momentarily lost its rules. When the light faded, it rested before him, waiting.
When he placed it around his waist, something awakened.
Memory.
Fragments of another life surged into his mind—blurred and distorted, like images seen through murky water. Faces he didn't recognize. Battles he had never fought. Knowledge he had never learned, yet somehow understood.
He didn't grasp everything. Not then. Not even now.
But he understood enough.
The belt wasn't a coincidence and his survival wasn't an accident.
And the path laid before him—the path of Heaven—had already been chosen.
A distant voice cut through the darkness.
"Over here!"
Light broke through the debris as rubble was torn away. Hands reached down, pulling him free.
Rescuers.
The present snapped back into place.
Tendo's fist struck the punching bag again, the chain snapping taut with a sharp clang. He exhaled slowly, eyes clear, focused.
He had been reborn into the world of the DC Multiverse.
Tendo was unsure how he truly felt about that. Part of him—born from another life—had once dreamed of meeting superheroes, of standing alongside legends who fought for justice in shining colors and iconic symbols. Yet reality was far harsher. Gods, demons, monsters, and corrupted titans stalked this world like inevitable storms.
Fear should have gripped him.
But it didn't.
Instead, he felt certainty—a sense of destiny, a belief that he was meant to rise above even the greatest of challenges.
As for the belt…
It came from a franchise known as Kamen Rider—a long-running Japanese media series created by Shotaro Ishinomori and produced by Toei Company. The franchise centers on masked heroes who use transformation belts and other devices to become armored warriors, often fighting supervillains or otherworldly threats. The Kamen Riders usually have an insect motif in their designs, and their transformations—called henshin—are iconic in their dramatic flair and visual style.
Specifically, the belt came from Kamen Rider Kabuto, one of the many entries in the Kamen Rider universe. This series follows a man named Souji Tendou, who uses a specialized device called the Kabuto Zecter to transform into Kamen Rider Kabuto—a hero with powerful armor and unmatched speed, fighting alien beings known as Worms that threaten humanity. The series emphasizes high-speed combat, insect-based designs, and themes of destiny and self‑assertion.
The catchphrases of that series—"Walking the path of heaven, to rule everything!" and "I am justice."—reflected the bold confidence of its protagonist, and they resonated deeply with Tendo when the belt first awakened inside him.
In his new world, he didn't have all of the memories of that past life—only fragments, like shapes seen through shifting water. But he understood enough to know this: the Kamen Rider he once was shared more than just a name with the legend of Kabuto.
The two shared the same power. The same fate.
And yes—he shared a certain arrogance.
Meanwhile…
Raven wandered through the quiet halls of the house, her footsteps soft against the polished floor. The place felt oddly peaceful—too peaceful for Gotham. She had been looking for Tendo, intending to tell him she was feeling a bit better, when—
BANG!
Her body tensed instantly.
The sound echoed through the house, sharp and violent—almost like a gunshot.
'What was that?!'
Her instincts flared, shadows instinctively stirring at the edges of her vision as she followed the noise. It led her to a wide, open training room tucked away in the back of the house.
And there she saw him.
Tendo stood before a heavy punching bag, his movements fluid and precise. Each strike landed with terrifying force, the impact producing that same explosive sound. He wasn't just hitting the bag—he was controlling it, timing every blow with practiced perfection.
Raven froze in place.
Sweat rolled down his exposed skin, clinging to his black shirt as it outlined his well-trained body. His muscles flexed with every movement—lean, defined, honed through discipline rather than brute excess. When he shifted into pull-ups and push-ups, his breathing steady and controlled, she found herself unable to look away.
Her face suddenly felt warm.
'O-Okay… I wasn't expecting this…'
Raven quickly looked away—then glanced back again, almost against her will.
'He trains like this… every morning?' She swallowed.
Her empathic senses brushed against him instinctively—and what she felt wasn't arrogance or recklessness.
He was focused and an iron will sharpened by loss and resolve.
'…He's dangerous,' she thought, surprised by how calm that realization felt.
'But not in the way Father is.'
Her eyes drifted back to him as he struck the bag again, the impact echoing through the room.
'I hate to admit it… but he's impressive.'
Raven exhaled slowly, steadying herself, unaware that she had been standing there longer than she intended—watching a man who walked the path of heaven, completely absorbed in his training.
Tendo halted mid-motion.
The punching bag swayed from his last strike, chains rattling softly as he straightened up. Without turning at first, he reached for a towel, wiping the sweat from his face.
"You can come in, you know," he said calmly. "Staring from the doorway isn't very stealthy."
Raven stiffened.
'He noticed…?'
She stepped inside, clearing her throat, trying to regain her composure. "S-Sorry. I didn't mean to intrude."
Tendo finally turned to face her, red eyes sharp but not hostile. If anything, he looked mildly amused.
"No need to apologize, what's up" he greeted casually.
"Did you need something?"
Raven shook her head. "No. I was just… exploring the house. I didn't expect to find a training room."
"This place has more than a few surprises," he replied. "What do you think?"
"It's…big and I've been looking around for half an hour now." Raven said honestly.
"Haha I know, our house is really something else," Tendo said with a smile.
"This house," Raven continued, "Who did it belong to?"
"It used to belong to my grandmother," Tendo explained.
"Before she moved back to Japan. I stayed behind."
Raven listened carefully, sensing no deception—only certainty.
"…Are you still studying?" she asked after a moment.
"Or do you work?"
Tendo picked up a bottle of water, taking a slow drink before answering.
"My parents owned a large company," he said. His tone didn't change, but Raven felt a faint echo of something heavy beneath the words.
"They're gone now. The company's being run by a close friend of my father."
"Like a guardian?" Raven asked.
"More like an uncle," Tendo corrected.
"Someone I trust."
She nodded, absorbing that.
Her empathic senses brushed against him again—discipline, pride, resolve… and something quietly lonely.
Tendo glanced at her, as if aware he was being studied.
"My grandmother once said," he spoke suddenly, his voice steady, almost ceremonial,
"'A man who fears loss will never move forward—but a man who accepts it can stand unshaken.'"
Raven felt something tighten in her chest.
"…You really live by her words," she said softly.
"Of course," he replied. "They've never failed me."
For a brief moment, the room was silent save for the faint creak of the punching bag still swaying behind him.
Then Tendo tilted his head slightly. "You shouldn't be standing for too long."
"I'm fine," Raven replied instinctively.
"I didn't ask," he said calmly. "Come. Sit down. You're still recovering."
She hesitated—then sighed.
"…You're persistent."
"I'm right," he countered.
Despite herself, Raven felt the corner of her lips twitch upward as she followed him out of the training room.
Raven glanced around the training room as they sat, her expression thoughtful.
"…Why do you and Cassandra stay in Gotham?" she asked at last.
"From what I understand, this city isn't exactly the best place to live."
Tendo stopped for a moment, then continued walking as if the question hadn't surprised him in the slightest.
"I have my reasons," he said calmly. "One of them is simply fate."
"Fate…?" Raven echoed, turning her head toward him.
He shrugged lightly. "Call it intuition. Call it destiny. I just know this is where I'm supposed to be."
That answer only deepened her curiosity.
"That's it? You stay in one of the most dangerous cities in the world because you feel like it?"
"I decided to," Tendo corrected. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "Besides, danger exists everywhere."
Raven frowned slightly. "That's… true, but—"
"Demons, gods, monsters," Tendo continued evenly, red eyes sharp with certainty. "They lurk no matter where you go. Compared to that, Gotham is simple."
"Simple?" Raven repeated incredulously.
"At least here, the worst you deal with are crime lords and madmen," he said.
"Kingpins, corrupt elites, costumed lunatics. Even the most dangerous among them—someone like Bane—is easier to deal with than interdimensional conquerors or world-ending entities."
Raven fell silent.
'He says it so casually… as if comparing hellspawn and gods is normal.'
She looked at him again, sensing no arrogance this time—only absolute confidence.
"…You really believe that," she murmured.
Tendo met her gaze. "I don't believe it," he said plainly. "I know it."
For reasons she couldn't quite explain, Raven felt a little safer hearing those words.
Tendo halted, then abruptly changed the subject as if a switch had been flipped.
"Come," he said. "We should head out."
Raven blinked. "Out? For what?"
"To buy you clothes."
Her eyes widened slightly. "W-What? That's not necessary. I don't plan on staying—"
"You might stay," Tendo corrected calmly. "And you can't keep wearing borrowed clothes."
"I'll manage," Raven insisted. "I don't want to trouble you or Cassandra any more than I already have."
Tendo turned to face her fully, arms crossing as he looked down at her with an unreadable expression.
"You're not troubling us," he said. "And this isn't charity."
"…It's not?" Raven asked warily.
"No," he replied. "Consider it an investment. You'll repay me in the future."
Raven frowned. "You sound very confident about that."
"I usually am," Tendo said simply.
She hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with accepting help yet again. Her fingers curled slightly at her side, conflicted.
"…Fine," she said at last, exhaling softly. "But only this once."
Tendo nodded, as if he had already known the outcome. "Good."
Then he added casually, "I was planning to shop for groceries anyway."
Raven glanced at him, unimpressed. "You planned that just now, didn't you?"
"Perhaps," he admitted without shame.
Despite herself, Raven felt a faint smile tug at her lips as they headed for the door.