Chapter 12: Chapter 11
The realization that my words had struck a chord with Fubuki was clear in the way she deliberated, assessing the possibilities my presence introduced.
Her actions in the past spoke of her approach to those who sought to challenge her—the new recruits who dared to enter the B-Class. She welcomed them, but when met with resistance, she swiftly quashed their aspirations, earning her the moniker
"Newbie Crusher," a name that sent shivers down the spines of both C-Rank and B-Rank heroes.
The ordinary-looking man with the goatee, Eyelashes, directed his anger at me with a glare. His words were as sharp as his gaze. "
You little shit is looking down on us. Mountain Ape!"
Fubuki's swift response was to raise her right hand, silencing her subordinates.
The fur coat she wore dropped to the ground, and in an instant, a blue glow enveloped her as she tapped into her Esper powers.
Her dark green hair floated gently, defying gravity. And then it began—a show of her immense psychic abilities.
Debris of all kinds—the remnants of the urban environment—lifted into the air, defying the laws of nature under her command.
As the wind responded to her will, the area darkened, a veil of shadows hinting at an impending storm.
The crowd quickly retreated to a safer distance, her own subordinates instinctively giving her space.
She had become a force of nature, an embodiment of destruction among heroes. Her hands stirred a vortex of power, one that mirrored the tempest she commanded. It was as if she wielded the very essence of a storm.
Her words carried a challenge, an offer of a final chance to apologize and avert what seemed inevitable.
I shook my head, unperturbed by her display of power.
"Your telekinesis isn't at the level of your sister," I remarked, my confidence unwavering.
Hovering with her telekinesis, her eyes ablaze like a demon's, she met my gaze with a mixture of determination and anger. She had read me accurately—I could sense that her facade concealed a deep-seated inferiority complex.
The shadow of her sister Tatsumaki's overwhelming power loomed large over her, and I recognized this vulnerability.
As her hands drew back, whipping the air into a frenzy, I understood the storm that was about to be unleashed. With a forceful thrust, she set forth a torrent of energy—her "Hell Storm.
" It was a technique of unparalleled might, one that ensnared opponents within a cyclone, the very stones within the vortex inflicting brutal damage.
The tempest charged toward me, surrounding me in a maelstrom of power. It was a testament to her mastery of her abilities. And yet, as the cyclone raged on,
I felt a vibration from my pocket—a call demanding my attention.
"Wait," I said aloud, my voice cutting through the chaos. Erecting a barrier around myself, I answered the call. "Yo, Kai speaking.
"It's me, Sekingar," came the voice from the other end."
A moment of silence followed, and then Sekingar spoke again, with a weight that was palpable even through the phone.
"It must be enough," Fubuki muttered, her powers subsiding as the cyclone came to a halt. "Let's see your fate."
As the dust settled, I observed the result of her attack. And there it was—a shimmering green barrier protecting me. The attack that was supposed to be my downfall had been endured without a scratch. With an almost dismissive air, I answered the call as if Fubuki's onslaught had barely registered.
The conversation with Sekingar continued, revealing the test that had been arranged for me. The possibility of ascending to S-Class status was a tantalizing prospect, and Amai Mask's role as the final judge added a layer of intrigue to the challenge. As the call ended, I allowed a smile to play on my lips. "The test won't be so dull, after all."
Fubuki's widened eyes indicated that she had overheard the contents of the call.
"Amai Mask? You're talking to Amai Mask?"
As I dissipated the wind barrier around me, I corrected her assumption.
"Nope. It was Sekingar."
Her recognition of the name seemed fleeting, perhaps not important enough to commit to memory. But the truth of the matter had already revealed itself to her—my identity as an Esper was clear, my power undeniable.
Fubuki's gritted teeth and anger resonated with my assessment. "Shut up!"
In her determination, she bent down, channeling her psychic energy underground. I watched as two massive slabs of earth rose with the intent to crush me.
And yet, I met the challenge with my own telekinesis, shattering the stone barricade with ease.
She wasted no time, immediately pulling fragments of stone and propelling them toward me. The projectiles rained down with the force of bullets, carrying a destructive power that was not to be underestimated.
And yet, they halted just before reaching me, suspended in mid-air. My smile held an air of arrogance.
''Is this enough to own the Blizzard Group, Fubuki?"
In that moment, the truth became abundantly clear to her. The realization dawned—the power I possessed was on par with her sister's, a fact that was both astounding and unsettling.
"You're an Esper…" she muttered, finally grasping the extent of my abilities.
The tension between us reached its peak, the balance shifting as she confronted the undeniable truth. My response was deliberately vague, a statement that emphasized the irrefutable outcome of our clash. "Maybe.
"I'll never yield!"
Fubuki's determination surged, her fists clenched in a display of unwavering resolve. The weight of her psychic power bore down on her, to the point that a trickle of blood escaped her nose under the pressure. "Hell Storm."
With the command on her lips, she took advantage of her psychic mastery to propel herself forward in a swift dash. From her pocket, she produced an unexpected weapon—a box cutter. In a frenzied state, driven by a whirlwind of emotions, she closed the distance between us, her intent clear as day.
I was the embodiment of her greatest enemy—the one who threatened her power, her very position within the Hero Association.
"Die!" Her cry carried the raw intensity of her emotions, her attack aimed at me with unadulterated fury.
Swift reflexes guided my actions, and I intercepted her assault by grabbing her hand and delivering a forceful backhand slap to her face.
The impact was enough to break the spell of her rage, snapping her out of her frenzied state. In that moment, as her anger collided with the sudden shock, her resolve wavered.
"Geez, women can be so stupid," I muttered, my exasperation palpable. I had seen this pattern before—an emotional whirlwind that clouded judgment and led to hasty actions.
My grip tightened on her hand, and with a yank, I brought her crashing into my chest. "Listen, Fubuki. I am not asking you to work for free."
Her breathing was ragged, her stance defiant yet vulnerable. The turmoil within her was evident, a battle between her principles and the allure of my proposition.
My words slipped through the chinks in her armor, the devil's temptations winding their way into her heart.
"Boss!"
The shout was accompanied by the sound of rushing footsteps, Mountain Ape and Eyelashes charging at me with a protective fervor. But their efforts met an invisible barrier, leaving them helpless against the force that prevented their advance.
Their expressions mirrored the helplessness of the situation, the realization that they were unable to shield Fubuki from the path she had chosen.
As she stood before me, seemingly frozen in place, it was clear that her inner struggle had intensified. The whispers of temptation, the lure of power and a promise to rival even her formidable sister, were difficult to ignore.
The battle for dominance had shifted from a physical clash to a psychological confrontation. Fubuki's hesitation hung in the air,
her mind ensnared by the possibilities I had dangled before her. The fate of the Blizzard Group, her own identity and desires, all seemed to hang in the balance.
The expressions of her subordinates, a mixture of concern and desperation, painted a poignant picture of their loyalty and concern for her. Yet, in that moment, their efforts were in vain. Fubuki's internal struggle played out against a backdrop of indecision, as the devil's whispers tightened their grip on her heart.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Enyru
Enyru Creation is hard, cheer me up!
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