An Offer

The blinding glare of fluorescent lights pierced Azar's eyes as he slowly drifted back into consciousness. The sterile, cold smell of antiseptic filled his lungs, snapping him fully awake. He was lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by the faint beeps and hums of machines monitoring his vitals. He felt it immediately—the surge of power pulsing through him, amplified far beyond anything he'd felt before. A quiet, confident smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The battle with the Deep Sea King had not only strengthened his body but deepened his understanding of his abilities.

With every muscle he flexed, Azar could feel a newfound energy coursing through his veins. He clenched his hand, marveling at the raw power that thrummed beneath the surface. The fight had left him battered, but his devouring ability had taken the Deep Sea King's strength and woven it into his own. Each new victory brought him closer to the pinnacle of strength, and the sensation was intoxicating.

The door to his room creaked open, and a young nurse entered, clipboard in hand. She was doing a double take at the tablet screen, her eyes widening in surprise as she looked between Azar and his medical records. "Good morning, sir," she stammered. "I… I have to say, your recovery has been remarkable."

Azar raised an eyebrow, watching her with mild amusement. "I've always healed fast," he replied nonchalantly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The nurse's gaze fell to the readings on her tablet again, her expression incredulous.

"According to these, you should still be recovering from severe injuries. I mean, your bones were fractured in multiple places, and yet here you are... It's as if you've completely healed overnight." She glanced back at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of awe and confusion. "I'd need to run a few more checks, but... this level of recovery is unheard of."

Azar gave a faint nod, brushing her concerns aside. "Thanks, but I'm good to go." He shifted, preparing to stand.

"Wait," the nurse protested, stepping in front of him. "There are formalities, and it's hospital policy to complete checkups before discharging patients, especially after such severe injuries. Just a few more tests, please?"

Azar let out a small sigh but didn't argue further. He was about to attempt a polite refusal when the door opened again, and a man in a sharp, dark suit stepped inside, his gaze focused solely on Azar. The newcomer carried himself with an air of authority, a polished smile on his face that spoke of practiced professionalism.

"Ah, Mr. Phantom Slayer, glad to see you're awake," he greeted, his voice smooth. The man extended his hand in greeting, which Azar accepted with a firm grip. "My name is Kazuma, and I work with the Hero Association's recruitment department."

Azar raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. Kazuma noticed and continued, his tone smooth but edged with excitement. "We've been monitoring your recent activity, including your fight against the Deep Sea King, which, I must say, was quite the display of power. Your record has caught our attention, and, as you may have guessed, we're here to offer you an official position within the Hero Association."

Kazuma paused, watching Azar's reaction closely, but Azar's expression remained indifferent, unfazed. Kazuma cleared his throat and pressed on. "If you join, you'd be brought in directly as an S-Class hero. Given your abilities, we'd start you at Rank 17, with a clear path to rise as your achievements accumulate. It's a unique opportunity. You'd gain access to a wide range of resources—training facilities, intelligence on high-level threats, financial support, and recognition from the public."

Azar tilted his head, intrigued but unimpressed by the formality of it all. "And what if I'm not interested in 'hero work'?" he asked with a faint smirk.

Kazuma chuckled, unfazed. "You're not the first to say that. A good number of our S-Class heroes share a similar sentiment." He took a step closer, his voice lowering slightly. "What you do as a hero is entirely up to you. If recognition and admiration aren't what you seek, then consider the practical benefits. The Hero Association is resource-rich, and for someone of your caliber, that could mean faster access to information on potential challenges, high-caliber opponents, and the freedom to handle threats your way."

Azar's smirk deepened; he had to admit, there was a certain appeal to that. He could operate freely, unhindered by weaker heroes who only got in his way, and if the Hero Association's resources allowed him to grow stronger, then it was worth considering.

Kazuma seemed to sense his interest, leaning in slightly. "The Association would support you in ways few could. Not only that, but we recognize your background as the 'Phantom Slayer.' It's clear you have experience that goes beyond conventional hero work."

At this, Azar paused. He glanced up at Kazuma, his eyes briefly flashing with something darker. The mention of his past reminded him of the life he'd left behind—the endless struggle for power, the ruthless lessons he'd endured. If he joined the Association, would it tie him down, or would it become a stepping stone to reach even greater heights?

"What if I decide to leave at any time?" Azar asked, crossing his arms.

Kazuma smiled confidently. "We don't restrict our S-Class heroes. They're free to come and go as they please. All we ask is that when a threat arises, and you're able, you do what you do best. Beyond that, your path is yours to choose."

Azar considered this, glancing at the wall clock ticking away in the background. He had always moved on his own terms, never bound by anyone's expectations or rules. But the idea of having an organization's resources at his fingertips—and the promise of higher-ranked foes to challenge and devour—was a tempting proposition.

He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Rank 17, huh? How soon can I rise?"

Kazuma's smile grew, sensing that Azar was close to accepting. "With your record? I'd say you'll climb the ranks quickly. Your recent battle alone is a testament to your potential. Once your registration is complete, the world will be watching."

A thrill shot through Azar, and he couldn't help the faint grin that spread across his face. "Alright," he said, his voice filled with cool resolve. "I'll consider it. Also just call me Azar. There's no need for this 'Phantom Slayer' nonsense."

Kazuma's eyes lit up, and he extended a card, embossed with the Hero Association's insignia. "We'll finalize the paperwork within a few days. In the meantime, please feel free to reach out if you have any questions. It's an honor to have you with us, Azar."

Kazuma turned to leave, his footsteps echoing down the sterile hall. Azar glanced at the card in his hand, feeling the weight of this new path before him. The Hero Association might become a useful tool, but he knew one thing for certain—no matter where he ranked or how they viewed him, his goal remained unchanged.

He was here to climb, to devour, and to reach heights no one had ever seen before.