God of Heroics: Comicman!

The group chat pinged at 5:15 AM.

Manga: gym's locked. school's closed today. no training.

Tetsutetsu: WHAT

Manga: USJ attack fallout. They cancelled classes.

Kamakiri: are you serious right now

Kendo: It makes sense. The school needs time to assess what happened and review security.

Monoma: A wise decision, though an inconvenient one.

Tetsutetsu: BUT I ALREADY ATE MY PRE-WORKOUT BREAKFAST

Kamakiri: what was it

Tetsutetsu: SIX EGGS AND A BOWL OF IRON SHAVINGS

Kamakiri: bro that second thing isn't food

Tetsutetsu: IT WAS A JOKE

Manga: tomorrow then. same time. everyone still coming?

Twenty confirmations rolled in within the hour.

…

The next morning, the gym had twenty people in it for the first time.

Manga stood at the center of the padded floor at 5:55 AM, stretching, water bottle at his feet. The original crew trickled in first. Tetsutetsu at 6:00 sharp. Kamakiri at 6:03 looking half-dead. Kendo and Tokage at 6:05. Monoma at 6:07 in ironed workout clothes. Shoda at 6:08. Shishida at 6:10 with an apology about the train.

Then the new faces.

Awase showed up in a tank top and basketball shorts. Rin was in compression gear, already stretching before he crossed the threshold. Honenuki arrived in a plain t-shirt and sweats, his face unreadable but his posture ready. Kaibara came in quietly and started warming up without being told.

Pony bounced in on her hooves. Tsuburaba shuffled in behind her, yawning. Komori was in an oversized hoodie that made her look like a walking mushroom. Kuroiro materialized from a shadow near the door, because of course he did.

Shiozaki entered with her hands folded and her vines freshly watered, looking like she was arriving for morning prayer at a church that happened to have squat racks.

Kodai and Yanagi arrived together. Kodai said "Mm." Yanagi raised one dangling hand in greeting.

Bondo was last, ducking through the doorframe sideways, his massive frame barely fitting through the gym entrance.

Twenty people. The whole class.

Manga looked at them. A sunrise emoji appeared in his bubble, then faded into something simpler. A warm, steady glow.

"Alright. For those of you who are new, here's what's about to happen. I'm going to say a word called Zusshiri. Gravity in this room will double. Everything you do will be twice as hard. Twenty minutes. If your joints hurt, not your muscles, your JOINTS, step out of range. No heroes with blown knees."

"How bad is it?" Awase asked.

The original group exchanged glances. Kamakiri snorted.

"You'll see," Kendo said, with a smile that wasn't comforting.

"Zusshiri."

The kanji formed overhead and gravity doubled.

A lot of people hit the floor.

Not literally. But close. Awase's knees buckled and he grabbed a squat rack for support. Pony's hooves skidded on the padded floor and she stumbled into Tsuburaba, who was already swaying. Komori sat down immediately and looked like she might cry. Rin's scales rippled across his forearms as his body instinctively tried to armor up against the invisible weight. Honenuki bent forward at the waist, hands on his knees, processing. Kuroiro pressed himself against the wall and slid down three inches.

Shiozaki's vines drooped. All of them. At once. She looked at the ceiling with an expression of quiet suffering.

Bondo didn't move. But then again, Bondo was already standing like he was carrying twice his body weight at all times, so maybe he just didn't notice.

Kodai stood perfectly still. Her expression didn't change. Whether this was stoicism or paralysis was unclear.

Yanagi's hands, already dangling at her sides, dangled lower.

The original crew was struggling too, but less. Two weeks of daily gravity training had given them a base the newcomers didn't have. Tetsutetsu was doing push-ups, slow and grinding. Shishida was squatting with proper form. Kendo was stretching with her teeth clenched. Manga was working through sit-ups, steady, visible effort but no signs of quitting.

"This is HORRIBLE," Pony announced from somewhere near the floor.

"That's the idea!" Manga called back. "Try some push-ups!"

"I can barely STAND!"

"Then do push-ups from your knees! There's no shame in it!"

Twenty minutes later, he released the Zusshiri.

The newcomers collapsed like puppets with cut strings. The veterans collapsed with slightly more dignity. Everybody stared at the ceiling and breathed.

"Welcome to the morning crew," Manga said, standing because he refused to be on the floor, even though his legs wanted very much to be on the floor.

"We do this every morning?" Rin asked, flat on his back.

"Every morning."

"I'm going to die."

"You're going to get stronger. Dying is optional."

…

They showered, changed, and gathered in the common area near the lockers. The mood was loose. Tired bodies and awake minds.

"So," Kendo said, toweling off her hair. "What do we actually know about the USJ attack?"

"All Might was hurt," Honenuki said. He'd clearly been following the news. "Not critically, but he took damage. Some kind of bioengineered villain designed to fight him."

"A villain designed to fight All Might?" Tetsutetsu's eyes went wide. "That's insane."

"Thirteen was injured," Monoma added. "And a student from Class 1-A. Midoriya, the green-haired one."

"He was hurt at the battle trial too, wasn't he?" Tokage said. "That kid keeps getting beat up."

"From what I've read, he fought alongside All Might against the main threat," Shishida said, adjusting his glasses. "Brave, if reckless."

"Besides Eraserhead who was severely injured, everyone else in 1-A was mostly fine," Kendo said. "Bruised, shaken up, but no serious injuries beyond those three."

"That's good," Shoda said quietly.

"What I want to know," Kamakiri said, leaning against a locker, "is how the villains even got in. U.A. is supposed to have the best security in the country."

"The press break-in," Kaibara said flatly. Everyone looked at him. "Think about it. The reporters broke through the gate barrier the day before the attack. What if that wasn't random? What if someone used the breach to get information?"

The room went quiet for a second.

"That's... a scary thought," Awase said.

"It's a logical one," Monoma placed a finger on his chin.

"What do you think would've happened if it was us instead of 1-A?" Tsuburaba asked the question nobody had asked out loud yet.

The room shifted. Eyes drifted, some toward the floor, some toward the wall. Several drifted toward Manga without fully committing to looking at him.

Tetsutetsu remembered the zero pointer at the entrance exam. The word that had cracked the sky.

Kamakiri remembered the battle trial. Seven traps across three floors.

Monoma remembered the ball throw. The crow that cost nothing.

Nobody said anything.

"We'd have given them just as much hell as Class 1-A," Manga said. "But I'm glad it wasn't us. And I'm glad everyone in 1-A made it out okay."

Heads nodded. The conversation moved on.

…

First period. Vlad King at the front.

"Before anything else." He set his hands on the desk. "U.A.'s Sports Festival is in two weeks."

The room woke up.

"Sensei, is it really okay to hold the festival?" Kaibara asked. "After what just happened?"

"Good question. The administration discussed it." Vlad King crossed his arms. "The answer is yes. Cancelling or postponing would send the message that U.A. is afraid. We're not. The festival will proceed as planned, with increased security. Instead of worrying about that, you should be worrying about yourselves."

He let that land.

"U.A.'s Sports Festival is one of the biggest events in Japan. It replaced the Olympics as this country's premier competition. Every major hero agency, every scout, every media outlet in the nation will be watching. The top heroes will have their eyes on you."

"All of them?" Pony asked.

"All of them. Endeavor. Hawks. Best Jeanist. The top ten. The top fifty. Independent agencies, government-affiliated offices, international scouts. Everyone."

The room was very quiet now.

"After you graduate, many of you will start as sidekicks at an established agency. That's the standard path. You learn from a pro, build your reputation, and eventually strike out on your own if you're good enough."

"Some people stay sidekicks forever though, right?" Awase asked.

"Some do. There's no shame in that. Being a good sidekick is its own skill set. But getting noticed by a top agency gives you a head start in status, experience, and connections that independent heroes spend years building from scratch."

"So the Sports Festival is basically a job interview," Tokage summarized.

"Three job interviews," Vlad King corrected. "Three events. Three chances to show the hero world what you're made of. If you want to become a known hero, this is your launchpad. Don't waste it."

The energy in the room changed. The tired, loose feeling from the morning workout tightened into something excitable.

"Two weeks," Vlad King said. "Make them count."

Classes went as normal. English. Math. Modern Hero History. The Sports Festival hung over everything like electricity in the air before a storm. Whispered conversations between periods. Nervous energy in hallways. Students from other departments glancing at the hero course kids with something between curiosity and envy.

By lunch, Class 1-B had claimed their usual long table and the conversation was Sports Festival from end to end.

"I wonder what the events will be this year," Tetsutetsu said through a mouthful of rice.

"I just know they had a foam-sword thing or something," Honenuki said. "They change the format sometimes but one-on-one is the standard."

"One-on-one fights," Kamakiri repeated. A grin spread across his face. "Finally."

"You're drooling," Kaibara told him.

"I'm EXCITED. There's a difference."

"What about the first event though?" Monoma set down his chopsticks. "I've been thinking about this. The first event is where everybody shows their hand. Every quirk out in the open, every ability on display. The smart play would be for some of us to hold back. Place in the back of the pack. Let Class 1-A burn their surprises while we observe and save our best for the later events."

A few heads nodded. It was a logical argument.

"That's not a bad plan," Kendo said carefully.

Manga took a sip of his water. "It's a good plan. For the people who want to use it."

Monoma looked at him. "But not for you."

"Not for me." Manga set his bottle down. "I'm going for first. In everything."

"I'm not telling anyone what to do," he continued. "Monoma's plan makes sense. If you want to observe and save your quirk reveals for later, that's smart. Do that." He looked around the table. "But I'm the man who's going to surpass God. I don't need to hide. I don't need to hold back. First place, first event, and I want everyone watching to know my name before the second event starts."

Nobody spoke for a second.

"I'm going all out too," Tetsutetsu said, because of course he was.

"Same," Kamakiri said.

"I'll compete fully in every event," Shishida said, pushing up his glasses.

"I'm not hiding my quirk," Kendo said. "But I understand why some people might want to."

Monoma looked around the table. Counted the faces that were following Manga and the faces that were considering his approach. He didn't look offended.

"Well," he said, picking his chopsticks back up. "I suppose we'll see whose approach bears more fruit."

"We will," Manga agreed. A handshake emoji appeared in his bubble.

Monoma smiled.

About ten minutes before lunch ended, Tokage stood up from her seat.

"Fukidashi. Come with me for a second."

Manga looked up from his rice. "Hm? What for?"

"Just come on." She grabbed his arm and pulled him out of his chair.

The table reacted immediately.

"Ooooooh," Tetsutetsu said, grinning.

"Tokage making moves," Awase whistled.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Kamakiri called after them.

"That leaves a LOT of options!" Tsuburaba added.

"Shut up, all of you idiots." Tokage said over her shoulder, not slowing down, her grip on Manga's arm firm. Her cheeks were the faintest shade of pink, but her stride didn't waver.

Manga let himself be dragged. A question mark emoji floated in his bubble.

The gym was empty during lunch. The lights were off and the equipment sat in the dim quiet, waiting.

Tokage let go of his arm and walked a few steps ahead before turning to face him. Her arms crossed. Her dusky green eyes were sharp and her pointed teeth showed when she spoke.

"I want to make a bet."

Manga tilted his head. "A bet?"

"On the Sports Festival. You and me. Whoever places higher overall wins."

"And the stakes?"

"If I win, you owe me one favor. Anything I ask. No questions, no complaints."

"And if I win?"

"Same deal. One favor from me."

Manga looked at her. His speech bubble cycled through a few expressions, thinking dots, a scale weighing two options, then settled on a confident grin.

"Sure thing." He cracked his knuckles. "But I gotta be honest with you, Tokage. I'm not going to lose."

"That's what makes it fun." Her grin matched his, sharp teeth and all. "If it was easy, it wouldn't be worth betting."

"Fair enough." He extended a gloved hand. "Deal?"

She took it. Her grip was firm. Her fingers lingered for half a second longer than a normal handshake needed, but Manga didn't notice that because why would he notice things like that.

"Deal." She let go.

He looked around the empty gym. "Well, since we're here, might as well get a workout in. Wanna join?"

"It's lunch break."

"And?"

"We just ate."

"Light stuff then. Stretching. Mobility work. Maybe some core." He was already walking toward the mats. "Unless you're scared of exercise."

"I'm not scared of anything, Bubble Head!" She followed him. Not because she wanted to exercise during lunch. But she followed him.

They stretched on adjacent mats. The gym was quiet except for the hum of the ventilation and the occasional sound of Manga's speech bubble shifting expressions as he worked through hip flexor stretches.

"So," Tokage said, reaching for her toes. "Why do you actually want to be a hero?"

Manga looked at her. "To make children smile."

She waited for the rest. There wasn't any.

"That's it?"

"That's it. Kids deserve heroes who make them feel like the world is exciting. Like there's always someone out there who's going to catch them when they fall, and look cool doing it." A little star appeared in his bubble. "My hero name is Comicman because I want kids to see me the way they see their favorite comic character. Someone they draw in their notebooks and pretend to be on the playground."

Tokage was quiet for a moment. She reached for her other foot.

"That's annoyingly sweet."

"What about you?"

"Me?" She leaned back on her hands. "I want to be the best. Simple as that. I got into U.A. on recommendation. Top of my middle school. Top of everything I've ever done." She looked at the ceiling. "I'm not doing this for some dream about making kids smile. I'm doing it because I'm good at it and I want the world to know."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"You don't think it's selfish?"

"I think wanting to be the best at something you're good at is the most honest motivation there is." Manga started doing side stretches. "Besides, you being the best hero you can be WOULD help people. The motivation doesn't have to be selfless for the result to matter."

She looked at him. He was upside down now, doing some kind of inverted stretch that put his speech bubble near the floor. A calm smiley face floated in it.

"Do you always say exactly what you think?"

"My thoughts are on my head. I couldn't hide them if I tried."

She laughed. Her hand coming up to cover her mouth before she could stop it.

"That's true, I guess." she said. "That's really true."

They kept stretching. The conversation drifted. She asked about his manga hobby and he talked for four minutes straight about the fantasy story he'd been drawing since middle school, his hands moving as fast as his mouth, little illustrations appearing and disappearing in his bubble as he described characters and plot points. She asked about his family and he told her about his poor mom who had to raise the boy that was going to surpass all that is and all that was.

She told him she liked dinosaurs. He said dinosaurs were awesome. She told him she'd been a gyaru in middle school and he asked what that was and she said never mind. She told him her quirk used to freak people out when she was a kid because detaching your arm in a playground tends to make other children cry.

"That sounds rough," Manga said.

"It was. But I got over it." She flexed her hand. "Now my arm flying at someone's face is a good thing, not a prank."

"Glad you brought it back around. Some people still feel insecure about their quirks even after quirk counseling."

The bell rang. Lunch was over.

They packed up, grabbed their water bottles, and headed for the door. Tokage paused at the threshold.

"Fukidashi."

"Yeah?"

"Don't go easy on me at the festival."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good." She walked out first, her dark green hair swinging behind her, her stride confident.

Manga watched her go. A small question mark appeared in his bubble, lingered for a second, then was replaced by a shrug emoji.

He had no idea why she'd needed to make that bet in private. Maybe she didn't want to be embarrassed if she lost. That was the only thing that made sense to him. It wasn’t like he was going to make her do something too embarrassing when she lost.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!