"Have some electrolytes, Mr. Smith."

"Oh…"

The technician handed Adam a plastic bottle, and from the beads of water sliding down on it, it was cold.

Just what Adam needed.

"You… lost a lot of blood back there."

"I'm used to it." Adam accepted the drink with both hands, nodding as he looked behind the technician to see if anyone else was coming inside. "Thank you."

They were inside a sterile room—and from the white curtains and the unique scent lingering in the air, it was probably a clinic. Although they probably removed the medicine cabinets in fear of him contaminating everything with his blood.

That didn't matter, though. He had already changed into a clean set of clothes provided to him by the IBAA—simple gray sweats that smelled like a closet.

"That's… a hell of a thing to get used to." The technician settled into the chair beside him, but he didn't say anything else after that. He only looked at Adam, or rather at his neck… and the other parts he used to demonstrate his… unique ability.

"Here." But after a moment, the technician reached into his jacket and pulled out a laminated card. "It's a physical copy of your Hero license. It doesn't really matter if you lose it, since you can just request another one. But still, hold onto it."

"Oh… Thank you." Adam stared at the card in his hands. His photo looked back at him—serious, green eyes that seemed older than his face. For once, he had an ID that didn't look like… it was forged.

[Adam Smith, The Endless. Hero Tier: B]

"Huh…" The weight of it felt heavier than it should have. He doesn't really know what to feel about the card.

"Can I ask you something?" The technician shifted in his seat. "Are you the Hero Killer? The one that's been going viral on the internet?"

"Hero Killer?" Adam's brow furrowed.

"Let me show you." The technician pulled out his phone, fingers swiping across the screen. "Here. From the 243rd Game."

"That…" Adam watched the footage—grainy drone shots of a figure in black armor cutting through enemies. It also showed footage of him killing Carmen… twice.

"Uh… yes," Adam confirmed. "That's… me."

"I… see." The technician shivered. "If the tests took combat potential into account, you'd easily be high A-tier. What you did out there..." He trailed off, remembering the things Adam did when they cut off the feed. If he wasn't used to all the violence, he would have probably vomited there and then.

"My tier…" Adam muttered. "Can I retake the test? In the future?"

"Of course, but I'll tell you now that it's mostly useless." The technician shrugged. "Almost everyone stays at their tier. The evaluation doesn't account for combat potential, as I said. It's extremely rare for someone to rise. I can count maybe three, five?"

Adam glanced at his status window. He still had five unspent points waiting for allocation. If he'd put them into Agility or Perception before the test, could he have reached A-tier?

"Mr. Smith, don't think too much about it," the technician said. "You're a Hero—you are already at the top 0.0034% of the population."

Still, Adam… A sounds better than B.

"Hm…" The thought nagged at him. For some reason, he wanted to try again. There… was something about having a high mark that made him feel a little excited.

"I'll take it next time," Adam sighed, staring at the card again.

Three months. Three months ago, he'd been a scavenger, digging through ash for scraps. Now he he

Adam blinked, as thinking of his time as a scavenger suddenly made him remember Hannah. Did… she survive the last Game? She also told him that Derek was alive.

Perhaps… he should start finding them?

"Hm…"

And as the technician saw Adam being deep in thought, he let out a chuckle and slipped another piece of paper toward him. "Before you go."

Adam looked down at the paper, and it looked similar to the contracts that were being thrown at him back at the lobby. "What's… this?"

"A cordial invitation for you to become a Hero for the IBAA. Government Hero, basically."

"Oh…" Adam blinked. "I appreciate the offer… but I'll have to decline."

The technician chuckled, already expecting the response. "No one really joins the IBAA these days. Or ever, really."

"It's… not like that," Adam said quickly. "If you need assistance, just ask. If it's about helping people, I don't think I need to be hired for me to come and assist you."

"Huh…" The technician's eyebrows rose in surprise. He extended his hand, and Adam shook it. "I'll take you up on that offer. But also… word of advice—don't exit through the main entrance. There are vultures and ants out there waiting for you."

"Vultures and… Oh. Thank you for the warning."

Adam quickly realized what the technician meant by those words. But still… he left through the main entrance anyway.

"Ah! Adam! Mr. Adam!"

"It's me. Do you remember me?!"

The guild recruiters swarmed him immediately. Dozens of voices shouting over each other, contracts thrust into his face, promises of signing bonuses and exclusive benefits.

Adam ignored all of them, however, and the security had to get involved. They pushed the crowd of recruiters to the side, creating a barrier around Adam as he made his way to the exit.

And when he stepped outside, the "ants" were waiting.

Hundreds of camera flashes erupted like lightning, forcing Adam to squint against the glare. Reporters. All of them with their microphones extending right at Adam's face.

None of them even waited for Adam to even exit the door at all when they started bombarding him with questions.

"How did you reach B-tier with those stats?"

"Did you know someone on the inside?"

"How did you kill Heroes when you were just a Creep?"

"What happened when the IBAA cut the feed?"

"What's your next move?"

Adam stopped at the last question. The reporter who'd asked it, a young woman with determined eyes, quickly pushed through the crowd to get closer as soon as she saw Adam glancing at her.

"Could you repeat that?" Adam asked.

"What will you do now?" she said, holding her microphone toward him.

Adam looked directly into the camera behind her. For a long moment, Adam said nothing. And with this silence, the reporters also slowly turned quiet.

Then he opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry."

And with that single statement, the reporters began their murmurs again. They looked at each other, their confusion rippling through the crowd.

"Sorry… for what?"

They all looked at Adam again, and when they saw his eyes, they knew he was serious. His green eyes… they held a depth of sadness that seemed to penetrate their gazes.

"I'm sorry to the people I killed during the Game. I'm sorry to their families—to those who lost sons, daughters, fathers, mothers. I'm sorry to those who died before me, and those who will die after. Every life I took weighs on me. Every face I remember. I carry them all."

The reporters exchanged glances, some thinking this was some sort of publicity stunt. But looking into Adam's eyes again, none of them could doubt his sincerity.

"As someone who survived…" Adam continued, "...I'll make you a promise. I'll use my power to help people. It might not mean much coming from a single person, but I want to help. I'm not a hero—not really. But I want to try."

The reporters stood stunned. Wasn't he… basically saying the IBAA's motto?

'Survive, and when we do, we offer our silent prayers to those who didn't make it, and ask forgiveness for those we have killed.'

That was the IBAA's motto. But the reporters have interviewed dozens of Heroes over the years. Most immediately signed with high-paying guilds or ignored the media entirely. None had ever spoken like this. None had ever apologized… especially in front of the cameras.

And he wasn't done.

Adam sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his resolve had hardened.

"Can I say something else?"

The reporter nodded eagerly, sensing a major scoop.

"I made another promise to someone. Her name was Grace, and her daughter was Samantha. They died in the 242nd Game. They were on my team—we lost."

The reporters' expressions shifted from confusion to shock. If his team lost in the 242nd Game, how… was he even still alive? Shouldn't he have been burned?

But before anyone could ask, Adam continued.

"I promised Grace I would get justice against those who made my life hell. I'm here to fulfill that promise." His voice grew stronger, carrying across the crowd.

"There's an organization called the Hospital. They conduct experiments on people… like me. They've been doing it for years, hiding in the shadows, treating human beings like lab rats."

Adam slightly stretched his arms wide, embracing the cameras, the attention… embracing the light.

"You tried to bury me in the dark. And for a while there, I almost believed that was where I belonged. Well…

…I don't believe that anymore."

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