[Is heroism learned or an innate quality?]
The question blinked on the screen. A message appeared below, indicating that half the time—fifteen seconds—remained.
Kaiza glanced up briefly before focusing again. In his mind, he selected Both and began forming his explanation.
Just then, the option BOTH was highlighted on the screen, framed by a glowing border. Unknown to Kaiza, as he continued his explanation in his mind, the system seemed to pause, almost as if it were listening intently.
Moments later, the question vanished from the screen, replaced by a new display: a life-bar in the middle, representing his score, and several other stats listed below.
As the countdown ticked to zero, the stats updated—but the battery life-bar remained unchanged.
[Number of questions – 5]
[Number of questions asked – 1]
[Number of questions answered correctly – 1]
[Number of questions answered wrongly – 0]
"Did I get it wrong?" Kaiza muttered, confused. The life-bar neither increased nor decreased, which baffled him. His focus lingered on the unmoving bar, oblivious to the stats below it that had already updated.
After a moment, he began scanning the rest of the screen. It was only then that he noticed the "Number of questions answered correctly" stat. He had answered correctly. But why hadn't the life-bar risen? The realization gnawed at him—something about this system was deliberately withholding clarity.
"Did I go against any of the rules? Or is the system malfunctioning? Damn it. What the hell is this? Is this even real?" Kaiza muttered, his frustration mounting.
A message appeared on the screen:
[Dear player, the battery bar will be updated at the end of each level.]
[One question left for this level.]
Kaiza's racing heartbeat slowed as he processed the message. Relief washed over him, but it was short-lived as the next question appeared on the screen.
[Q2 – Should a hero's actions be driven by a desire for personal redemption, a need for vengeance, or a sole guide of selfless intentions?]
Two options materialized below the question. Kaiza stared at it, trying to decipher its deeper meaning.
As he thought, a strange sensation crept over him—the unsettling impression that the system could read his mind. His earlier question about the reward had been answered almost as if in direct response to his thoughts. Now, his chest tightened as a familiar feeling welled up in him: a thirst for revenge.
The thought of his parents' deaths surfaced again, raw and unrelenting. He clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. No, he thought. I'm not going to let them die for nothing.
The pain of losing his parents still lingered in Kaiza's heart, a wound that refused to heal. He didn't want justice; he wanted revenge. Justice was a myth in this world, a hollow ideal that had long been buried beneath layers of corruption and despair.
This was the world after the first war against the Dowolf beasts—a world left in shambles. Though the war raged on, society had fallen into chaos, and the remnants of law and order had become twisted.
In cases like Kaiza's, where victims sought justice against those with special abilities or from powerful ability-wielding families, the verdict was almost always the same: in favor of the accused. The world had come to believe its survival in the ongoing war depended on these so-called "heroes." As a result, they were above the law, protected and revered, no matter the crimes they committed.
Sometimes, the victim was labeled the offender, forced to pay fines for the audacity of accusing the "World's Heroes." In even graver cases, the accused determined the victim's fate—some were sentenced to lifelong imprisonment, while others were reduced to slaves.
In this world, the term "World's Heroes" was synonymous with unchecked power and dominance. They were no saviors; they were rulers. And Kaiza knew that if he ever wanted to challenge them, he would need more than anger. He needed strength—a strength they couldn't ignore.
In this world, ability dictated the fate of families. Wealth, once the ultimate measure of influence, had lost its luster after the Dowolf Beast war. Now, life was hellish for families without special abilities or ties to World Heroes. Their voices carried no weight, and they were treated as insignificant.
For Kaiza, seeking justice was not even an option. The system was stacked against him, and he refused to risk ending up in prison—or worse, becoming a slave to M. Boss. Whoever M. Boss truly was—alien, superhuman, or something else entirely—Kaiza knew one thing for certain: he was no ordinary human.
Though Kaiza's family had once thrived, their strength came from Enzox and Susan, experts in advanced technology and skilled martial artists. But with them gone, Kaiza's family was on the verge of being treated like those without any special abilities. Against someone like M. Boss, Kaiza was powerless.
"Even if I want revenge, I need power first," Kaiza muttered to himself.
He knew he would eventually gain an ability at the military school, but that alone wasn't enough. He craved the power this game had to offer—a power that could tip the scales in his favor. Having both would not just make him stronger; it would make him unstoppable.
For the past fifty years, martial arts training has been mandatory for everyone. Initially, it wasn't solely for fighting the Dowolf beasts but for basic self-protection. The World's Heroes couldn't be everywhere at once, so a baseline of combat skills was necessary for survival. Those who wished to advance could train further, aiming to become a World Hero—W.H.—a revered and powerful position.
However, the times had drastically changed. With signs of impending doom and war, the rules had grown stricter. Over the past five years, every student was required to enlist as a soldier, regardless of their personal desires. Serving in the military had become mandatory, a desperate measure to prepare for the approaching threat.
The urgency stemmed from a chilling discovery: over 100 spaceships had been spotted heading toward Earth. This number was more than enough to strike fear into every corner of humanity. The last war, sparked by just ten Dowolf Beast spaceships, had left Earth in ruins. Those ten ships alone had unleashed devastation so great that even after a decade, the planet had yet to recover fully.
Now, with over a hundred ships approaching—possibly carrying not just Dowolf beasts but something even more terrifying—the fate of humanity hung by a thread. If ten ships nearly wiped out the Earth in mere days, what hope did they have against this overwhelming fleet?
Since the announcement of Earth's impending doom, humanity has lived in a constant state of fear. Parents were especially terrified at the thought of handing their children over to the officials of the Military School of Heroes. To ease their reluctance, the government introduced a scheme, bribing families with promises of shelters, vehicles, and protection when the war arrived. If their children died as heroes, they were assured generous rewards.
Many families, desperate for any form of security, reluctantly handed over their children, clinging to the hope that the government's promises would hold true. Others, too fearful or distrustful, refused—only to have their children taken by force.
Kaiza was set to join the Military School of Heroes after graduating from high school in a few days. It was one of the reasons he'd been with his parents recently. From middle school onward, Kaiza had attended boarding school, largely because his parents were deeply engrossed in their careers. His absence was intentional—they wanted him to grow independently, so he had stayed with his uncle for years.
This separation, and his parents' untimely deaths, had fueled Kaiza's resolve. Gaining power wasn't about protecting humanity. Why should he protect the very society that had taken everything from him? His thirst for power stemmed from something far more personal: the chance to avenge his parents and rise above the system that had failed them.
The thought of protecting humans was unbearable. They had stolen his family, his future, and any chance of a normal life. He had only just begun to reconnect with his parents when everything was ripped away. The pain was too fresh, and his focus now was singular—power, at all costs.
Kaiza wanted power—enough to shield himself from his enemies and ensure he would never be vulnerable again. He was ready to go to any lengths to obtain it. But why was the system making it so difficult?
It was clear to him now: the system had seen his thoughts, understood his resolve to avenge his parents' deaths, and yet it insisted on pushing him to play the role of a hero. Hero? The very idea disgusted him.
Kaiza was at an impasse. He refused to sacrifice himself for humans—those wicked beings who had caused him so much pain. At times, he regretted even being one of them.
[Half the time.]
The system's alarm snapped him out of his thoughts. The countdown flashed on the screen: fifteen seconds, now thirteen, then twelve.
Kaiza gritted his teeth, closing his eyes in frustration. For a moment, his anger boiled over. But he knew better than to let it cloud his judgment. He needed the power, and nothing—absolutely nothing—could stand in his way.
He took a deep breath and made a decision. If he had to play the role of a hero to move forward, so be it. He would set his anger aside for just a few seconds.
With his plan in mind, he selected an answer.
[Selfless intentions] was highlighted on the screen, bordered just like before.
The question disappeared, replaced by the score screen. Kaiza exhaled sharply, his jaw still tight. This was only the beginning, but he was determined to win—whatever it took.
The bar had risen to seven. Kaiza was closer to winning the game—and with it, the power he craved.
[Stage completed]
[New Stage Unlocked]
[Stage 2 – Intermediate]
The messages flashed across the screen. As Kaiza's score settled, the next question appeared:
[Q3 – What role does selflessness play in heroism?]
"What the…?" Kaiza muttered, staring at the glowing blue screen. His simmering vengeance flared up again, only to be met with yet another question that gnawed at his nerves.
"Don't let this bother you. All you have to do is choose an answer and forget you ever did," he whispered to himself, trying to calm his frustration. But deep down, he knew the system was testing him—pushing him toward something he despised. It wasn't just about answering questions; it was forcing him to confront the ideals of heroism he had once cherished but now resented.
Being a hero hadn't always been a problem for Kaiza. Before his parents' deaths, he had dreamed of joining the military academy, driven by the desire to save humanity from the Dowolf beasts in the coming war. His ambition had been so fierce that he even attempted to skip a grade to accelerate the process.
But that version of Kaiza no longer existed. Losing his parents had shattered his ideals and turned his dreams into ashes. Saving humanity? No. The same humanity that had taken everything from him didn't deserve his sacrifice.
And yet, here he was, faced with a question that seemed determined to pull him back toward a past he'd tried to bury.
But now, Kaiza's only desire was to gain the power the system promised him. He wanted vengeance for his parents and, perhaps, a chance to protect the weak from the beasts. As for those with powers? Let them fend for themselves—they didn't deserve his efforts.
Just then, the screen flickered, and a new message appeared.
[Explain.]
"What the…" Kaiza froze, staring at the single word glowing on the screen. He was rendered speechless.
Explain? The system wasn't just asking for an answer—it wanted him to justify it.
Kaiza's jaw tightened. This wasn't a game anymore; it felt like a test far more personal than he had anticipated. The system was digging into his mind, forcing him to confront what he believed and why.
He clenched his fists and exhaled slowly, trying to suppress the storm of emotions rising within him. "Fine," he muttered under his breath. "If that's what it takes to get this over with, I'll play your game."