The Phantom Unveiled

The day after Azar's induction into the S-Class ranks, news of the "Phantom Slayer" swept through every major media outlet. Footage of his brutal clash with the Deep Sea King, captured in vivid detail by evacuation center cameras, spread like wildfire. Civilians and heroes alike watched in awe and disbelief as Azar's bloodied form continued to rise, even when it seemed he'd hit his limit. His ruthless strikes and tenacious resilience shattered any doubt about his strength, but his detached demeanor and unorthodox fighting style left the public divided.

Inside the Hero Association hospital, a TV in the lobby played clips from Azar's fight. Stinger, still recovering from injuries from a previous mission, stared at the screen, transfixed by Azar's brutal yet controlled strikes. Lightning Max sat nearby, watching in silence with a slight frown.

"Guess he's making a big impression," Stinger said, raising an eyebrow at the footage of Azar in a final, brutal counter against the Deep Sea King.

Max nodded, arms crossed. "Big impression, yeah, but look at the wreckage he left behind. This guy's not exactly a picture of restraint, is he?"

Stinger chuckled, wincing slightly at the movement. "Maybe. But who cares about restraint when you're taking out a monster like that? People were cheering for him by the end. He did what he had to do."

Max sighed, his gaze fixed on the screen as Azar delivered the finishing blow. "Maybe, but heroes aren't just about power. If you're not careful, you end up looking more like a monster than a hero."

In the back of the room, a few other injured heroes glanced up, their faces a mix of admiration and caution. Azar's fight had clearly left an impression, but his indifference to hero protocol and disregard for destruction were not sitting well with some. Max's frown deepened, wondering if someone as unpredictable as Azar could really fit in with the Association, especially among the S-Class heroes, where power alone often wasn't enough.

Meanwhile, in a dojo atop a mountain in City Z, Bang replayed the footage of Azar's fight with the Deep Sea King on a small tablet. The screen flickered with the chaotic scene, each brutal blow and reckless strike telling a story of raw, unrefined power. The elderly hero's face remained unreadable as he observed Azar's movements, noting the strength but also the flaws.

"So much like you," Bang muttered, his voice barely a whisper. He sighed, his thoughts drifting to his troubled former disciple, Garou. Just weeks earlier, Garou had left Bang's dojo in disarray, defeating all of Bang's other students with a merciless ease that had shattered the old master's heart.

Watching Azar's fight brought a flood of memories back—of Garou's unrestrained, aggressive style, his thirst for strength, and his disdain for weakness. Bang had seen the same spark in Garou that he now saw in Azar, though Azar's style was less refined, more wild. But the resemblance was undeniable.

"Two young men, both bound by a hunger for power above all else." Bang's eyes narrowed, studying Azar's final, decisive strike. "But power without purpose is dangerous." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Garou's departure had left him with a deep-seated worry, and Azar's entrance into the hero ranks only amplified it. The Hero Association might see Azar as a new powerhouse, but Bang knew all too well how easily strength could spiral into destruction.

In a quiet meeting room within the Hero Association's headquarters, several executives and analysts watched Azar's battle, jotting down notes and discussing the potential implications of his unorthodox approach. Sitch, one of the senior decision-makers, observed the room's reactions, his eyes lingering on the screen showing Azar's intense battle with the Sea King.

"Azar's induction was fast-tracked, and I can understand why," Sitch said, tapping his pen thoughtfully on the table. "But his methods could be… problematic. We need more heroes like him, but he's going to need guidance." He looked pointedly at the analysts, who exchanged uneasy glances, silently wondering who could rein in someone like Azar.

A few floors below, in the Hero Association hospital, another group of heroes watched the battle footage in stunned silence. Among them was Genos, who had heard of Azar's induction and was now intently observing every strike, every movement. Remembering their brief encounter, Genos found himself intrigued yet wary.

"He's changed," Genos murmured to himself, a faint frown forming on his face. "Since our last meeting, he's grown stronger—and more reckless." He clenched his fists, feeling a renewed sense of rivalry. There was no doubt that Azar possessed formidable strength, but the footage reminded Genos of how much he still needed to grow. He couldn't afford to let someone like Azar outpace him.

Across the city, reactions continued to pour in. Some civilians expressed concern over Azar's chaotic, almost villainous fighting style. Others, however, were enamored by his raw, unapologetic power, thrilled to have a hero unafraid to match brutality with brutality. While debates about his true motives and reliability spread, one thing was certain: the public was hooked on Azar, the Phantom Slayer.

Yet, it wasn't only the Hero Association taking note of Azar's rise. Deep underground, in the darkened meeting chamber of the Monster Association, members gathered to discuss their plans and, inevitably, the new S-Class hero's debut. At the head of the table, Phoenix Man adjusted his crimson mask, his voice a low, calculating murmur.

"He's strong," Phoenix Man said, his voice echoing through the chamber. "And a fighter like that, who's already so… unconventional, could be useful."

Royal Ripper, sitting nearby, smirked, the glint of his razor-sharp claws reflecting the dim light. "You mean we should turn him? Someone with a taste for violence like that might just enjoy it down here."

A few chuckles of agreement sounded around the room, but Phoenix Man remained pensive. "It's possible. Someone with his strength, with the right persuasion, might be… receptive to our cause. He's already shown that he doesn't follow their rules, and that could work to our advantage."

Several of the monsters exchanged glances, their eyes narrowing as they contemplated the possibility. If Azar could be swayed, his power would be an invaluable asset to their ranks.

"But," Phoenix Man continued, his tone turning serious, "we can't be too hasty. Let him prove himself to be a real threat to the Association first. We'll wait for the right moment, and if he shows even the slightest doubt in his heroism…" He leaned back in his chair, a wicked smile hidden beneath his mask. "We'll make our move."