Today, heroes have become the cornerstone of maintaining peace and order in human society. They are celebrated figures, revered by ordinary citizens as legends and symbols of hope. These individuals possess the strength and resolve to confront villains, ensuring the safety and prosperity of the world. High-ranking heroes, in particular, are beloved by all, often wielding influence that extends beyond their battles. Some even transition into politics after retirement, shaping policies and governance with the same dedication they once used to protect the public.
However, this admiration is largely reserved for the elite heroes. The same respect does not extend to low-level heroes. While they are technically part of the Hero League and are referred to as "heroes," even they often struggle to view themselves in such a light. These individuals are assigned menial tasks, or "odd jobs," in the cities they serve. Their encoded abilities are either impractical for combat or simply too weak to stand against the real threats that plague society. They are the unsung, underappreciated members of the hero community, existing on the periphery of glory.
Among them is Kai, a low-level hero who has spent five grueling years stuck in the same rut. Like many children, Kai grew up idolizing heroes, dreaming of one day following in the footsteps of his parents, who were both accomplished heroes in their time. However, his dreams were shattered early on. His encoded ability—while functional—was painfully underwhelming, and a tragic event in his life further dampened his spirit. Encoded abilities are closely tied to the strength of one's willpower, which in turn amplifies their potential. Kai's weak willpower and lingering trauma left him with a mediocre ability, preventing him from climbing the ranks of heroism.
"Why won't this damn thing go down?!" Kai muttered angrily, his voice echoing in the empty restroom.
He was in a public bathroom, armed with a plunger, battling a particularly stubborn toilet that refused to flush. It was his last assignment for the day—one of the many degrading tasks handed to low-level heroes.
"Go down!" he shouted, jamming the plunger into the bowl with increasing frustration.
Suddenly, a jet of filthy water splashed onto his face.
"Ptui! Ptui! Ugh, it got in my mouth!" Kai spat and gagged, wiping his face with a wad of toilet paper. "Why the hell did I take this job?!"
After what felt like an eternity of plunging, cursing, and near-defeats, he finally managed to get the toilet working again. Hours later, as he stepped out of the restroom, he swore under his breath, "I'm never taking a job like this again."
Exhausted, Kai hailed a taxi and directed the driver, "Hero League headquarters."
The taxi dropped him off in front of the Hero League's city branch, an imposing H-shaped skyscraper that towered over the surrounding buildings. He paid the driver and made his way inside. The interior was grand, with an expansive lobby dominated by an L-shaped reception desk where a lone receptionist greeted him.
"Thank you for your service," the receptionist said politely, handing him an envelope containing his modest pay.
Kai nodded in acknowledgment, taking the envelope without a word before heading home.
In the dim light of his small apartment, Kai opened his banking app to check his balance. It was just enough to cover rent and his living expenses. He let out a heavy sigh, leaning back against his creaky chair. He enjoyed the idea of being a hero—it was the reason he'd pursued the career in the first place—but the reality of being a low-level hero was nothing like he'd imagined. It was draining, thankless, and, quite frankly, degrading.
He raised his hands and muttered, "[Manifest]."
In an instant, a pair of gauntlets materialized over his hands. This was his encoded ability. The gauntlets slightly enhanced his physical strength, but they were far from extraordinary. There was no flash, no grandeur—just a simple tool that had relegated him to the bottom rung of the hero hierarchy.
Kai stared at his hands, clenching his fists tightly. "This isn't what I imagined being a hero would be," he whispered to himself, his voice heavy with frustration.