"Good evening, everyone in front of your television screens. Welcome to the Hero Channel's Hero Face-to-Face. Our guest tonight isn't a hero we see every day, but an equally respectable worker behind the scenes. Please give a warm round of applause for the Director of the Hero Association's Public Relations Department—Mr. Oomoto!"
Glug, glug... Ah... After finishing dinner, a bored Saitama lay sideways on his tatami mat, sipping soda while watching TV. On the screen, amidst enthusiastic applause, a glowing Mr. Oomoto walked out waving. He gave a slight bow to the camera before sitting on the sofa opposite the host.
"Hello everyone, I am Oomoto, Director of the PR Department. It's a pleasure to meet you all here."
"Not a hero, huh? Last time it was that old man Bang. I thought I'd see a different S-Class hero this time." Saitama's gaze swept past the fat man's large belly and the beautiful host's long legs with a sigh.
"Welcome, Mr. Oomoto," the host smiled. "This is a talk show, so let's just chat casually."
"Chat about what? Want to talk about the meaning of life?" Mr. Oomoto joked with a wink.
"Hahaha, you should save that talk for your wife back home." The host giggled behind her hand. "Let's start with your career. As far as I know, you were a project manager at the Martial Arts Association with a limitless future. Why did you leave for the newly established Hero Association? Was it for a dream of being a hero?"
"The dream exists, but the reality is that I was actually fired by the Martial Arts Association for making a mistake," Mr. Oomoto said with a wry smile.
"Oh? Was it a misunderstanding?"
"No misunderstanding. I did screw up, and I fully accepted the Martial Arts Association's decision. Funnily enough, it actually involved Chairman Aomori. At that time, I not only offended him but also deceived many spectators. However, Chairman Aomori didn't just forgive me; he personally invited me to join the Hero Association. I didn't think much of it then as I just wanted to repay his kindness for recognizing my worth."
"I never knew there was such a story. Chairman Aomori truly is the gold standard for heroes, the most outstanding man in the world." The host's face flushed a soft pink.
"Absolutely. The moment I met Chairman Aomori, I knew he was a once-in-a-generation genius, a man born for greatness!"
The two took turns praising Aomori until, perhaps receiving a cue from the director, the host cleared her throat and regained her professional composure. "Let's talk about your work at the Association. What exactly does the PR Department do?"
"Promotion, naturally. All those advertisements you see in the streets are part of the promotional plans we formulate."
"I see. So, the high-profile Seven Heavenly Virtues title election was also created for promotion?"
"Eh?" Hearing this, the previously drowsy Saitama immediately sat bolt upright, staring at the TV.
"Exactly," Mr. Oomoto nodded. "Beyond helping the public understand our heroes better, we want to use this event to motivate all heroes to learn from these role models. In short, it's about making our heroes, our Association, and our world better."
"That's wonderful," the host clapped. "Can you tell us about the specific process? I'm sure the viewers are very curious. I know I am."
"No problem," Oomoto explained. "The event has three phases: the Preliminaries, the Semifinals, and the Grand Finale."
"The Preliminaries are the public voting phase; the top ten in each category move on. The Semifinals involve a public disclosure stage where we strictly vet the conduct of the advancing heroes, and anyone failing to meet the standard is disqualified. Finally, the Grand Finale will feature different challenges for the heroes to solve. They will be scored by a panel of judges and the audience to determine the titleholder. Most importantly, the Grand Finale will be broadcast live."
"Sounds like a lot of trouble," Saitama muttered, lying back down.
On TV, the host followed up: "It sounds thrilling! I can't wait. I heard the winners receive not just a prestigious title, but also rich rewards. Can you reveal what they are?"
"I'll only mention the least valuable one," Oomoto teased, holding up five fingers. "A 500,000 yen cash prize."
"500,000?!" Saitama's eyes went wide.
"500,000?!" The host's mouth hung open. "And that's the least valuable? I'm almost tempted myself. Mr. Oomoto, is it too late for me to become a hero?"
"Hahaha, registration is closed. Try again next year! We plan to make this an annual event. Host-san, I think you'd have a great chance next year... if you become a hero first."
"Are you looking down on me?" She stood up playfully, throwing a couple of punches. "How's that? Am I tough?"
"Tough, tough!" Oomoto's eyes didn't wander.
After a bit more small talk, the show neared its end.
"A reminder: the Preliminaries end in two days! If you haven't voted, hurry up and support your favorite hero! That's all for tonight, folks. See you next week at the same time. Bye!"
"So boring. Time for bed." Saitama turned off the TV, yawned, and crawled into his futon. "I wonder if the tailor finished the design. I'll go check tomorrow."
Imagining himself looking heroic in a brand-new uniform, he drifted off to sleep.
The next day, Saitama woke up full of energy, performed his morning training, and hunted down a monster as per his routine. Immediately after, he rushed to the tailor shop.
"Boss! Is the design ready?" Saitama shouted as he burst in.
"Ah, Saitama! Perfect timing. I just finished the sketch last night." The tailor pulled out his book and flipped to the last page. "Take a look."
"Alright!" Saitama leaned in with anticipation, and his eyes lit up. "This... this actually looks pretty good."
The sketch showed a suit with a yellow body, accented by red gloves and boots, and topped with a white cape. It looked remarkably clean and balanced.
"How is it? Do you like it?" The tailor asked with a smile.
"I love it! Let's go with this!" Saitama slammed his hand on the table, decided.
"Good, good. Let me take your measurements first. Come back in a couple of days when it's finished."
"Got it! Thanks, Boss!"
…
In the depths of J-City, thanks to the efforts of Senior Centipede, the base of this Monster Association branch had reached a respectable scale, capable of housing hundreds of monsters. After a few days of secret recruitment, the branch leader, Ditto, now had over a dozen monsters under his command.
Among them, a Tiger-level monster named Maiko Plasma had become a favorite of Ditto's. She wore a kimono like a geisha and looked normal at first glance, but dangerous electrical sparks flickered around her body. Not only was she capable, but she was also quite the sweet talker.
"A leader is truly a leader. You predicted that the arrogant Deep Sea King would meet his end and wisely avoided any contact with him," Maiko Plasma said admiringly.
I'm a 'Chairman' now too. Rounding up, I'm basically on the same level as Aomori, Ditto thought smugly. He cleared his throat to hide his joy. "The Deep Sea King and the Subterranean King were two of a kind—obsessed with past glories while failing to realize the era has changed. Even our Monster Association needs to bide its time and endure humiliation to grow. What hope did they have?"
"The Chairman is wise! You will surely expand the Association, defeat the Hero Association, and rule the world!"
"Eh, that's a bit far off. For now, we stay grounded, avoid the heroes' eyes, and build this place up to support the headquarters!"
"Chairman, your wisdom is far beyond ours."
The two went back and forth, leaving Senior Centipede fuming in the corner. Not only was she embarrassed because she had suggested joining the Deep Sea King before he was defeated, but she also hated seeing the two of them getting so close while she felt like an outsider.
I was here first! Why is the Chairman closer to her? No, I should be his right-hand monster!
Resolved, Senior Centipede prepared to snap at Maiko Plasma. But before she could speak, Maiko Plasma turned to her warmly. "Senior Centipede, let's not waste time. Let's head out and recruit more monsters to our cause."
"Huh?"
"Yes," Ditto added. "This should be a daily task. Let's set a rule: from now on, anyone who recruits 30 monsters in a month will become an executive of this branch." Having spent so much time with humans in his last dungeon, Ditto's strategic thinking had evolved.
"Executive?!" Hearing the keyword, both Maiko Plasma and Senior Centipede's eyes lit up. Even if it was just a branch executive, it was still a position of power. And if this place grew, it might even become more prosperous than the headquarters.
"Chairman, we will work even harder!" they both promised.
"Then get to it."
"Yes!"
As they left the hall, Senior Centipede's friendly mask dropped. She brandished her sickle-claws. "What kind of scheme are you running? Don't think I won't kill you!"
"What scheme? I've been trying to be friendly this whole time," Maiko Plasma smiled elegantly. "Currently, we are the two closest to the Chairman. We should be his left and right hands. It only makes sense to cooperate."
"You mean..." Senior Centipede, having lived for decades, wasn't stupid. "We team up to keep other monsters out?"
"Mm-hmm," Maiko Plasma nodded. "You don't want some newcomer stepping on our heads later, do you?"
"The Monster Association values strength above all. What's the point of this?"
"Exactly, strength above all. Isn't the Chairman the strongest? He's one of the elites at the headquarters. So, sticking close to him is definitely the right move."
"Hmph. You're saying I'm useless to the Chairman?"
"Haha, we're in the same boat. That's why we need to work hard at recruitment to show our value. What's your answer? Are we partners?"
After a long pause, Senior Centipede spoke. "Fine. We'll cooperate. But if you slack off, I'll drop you in a heartbeat. Remember that."
"Of course. That's only fair."
With their agreement reached, the two left the underground and melted into the darkness of the night.
…
After resting for a few days, Fubuki resumed her hero activities and patrol duties. Genos wasn't back from the factory yet, so she was working solo. When she arrived at the shopping district, the familiar shopkeepers swarmed her again.
"Ironclad Warrior! Oh wait, you're the Verdant Rider now!" An older woman grabbed Fubuki's hand affectionately. "What a cute girl you are! To think you wore that heavy armor every day just to be a hero... it must have been so hard."
"It wasn't that bad..." Fubuki still wasn't used to this kind of warmth. She felt a bit awkward. "You... you all know?"
"Of course! We saw the newspapers. You're a real hero! We even formed a support group for you. We all voted for you in that title contest, and we're telling all our customers to vote for you too!"
"Thank you. Truly, thank you all." Fubuki suddenly felt a sting in her eyes, a feeling she had never experienced before.
"No need for thanks! You saved our lives; of course we're supporting you."
"That's right! By the way, do you have a boyfriend? We can introduce you to some nice boys."
"That... that won't be necessary," Fubuki stammered, politely declining.
"Stop meddling! A beautiful girl like her won't have trouble finding a boyfriend. The line of men wanting to marry her probably stretches from A-City Headquarters all the way to here!"
"..." Fubuki could only respond with a smile.
Finally escaping the crowd of shopkeepers, she heard two more voices calling out.
"Fubuki-neesan!"
"Fubuki-sama!"
Looking at the two familiar yet slightly different faces, Fubuki blinked. "Lily and Eyelashes?"
"Yes! I can't believe you still remember us, Fubuki-sama!"
Lily lunged into Fubuki's arms, her voice cracking. "We couldn't find you anywhere; I thought something terrible had happened. I only saw the news in the paper yesterday."
"I'm sorry. For various reasons, I couldn't reveal my identity to anyone," Fubuki said, stroking Lily's hair.
"It's okay! We understand now."
"Fubuki-sama, can we be your subordinates? We're willing to go through fire and water for you!" Eyelashes said seriously.
"Lily too! I admire you more than anyone, Fubuki-neesan!"
"Subordinates?" Fubuki shook her head in surprise. "No, I don't need subordinates. If you don't mind, let's just be friends."
"Friends? Really? Can we really be friends with someone as noble as Fubuki-sama?"
"What's 'noble' about me?" Fubuki touched her hair, which had grown out slightly, and smiled. "Well? Are you unwilling?"
"We're willing! Very willing!"