The city's ramparts were repeatedly adorned with the same poster: "Vote for General Titan." The general's campaign to become the next global president of the Hero Federation has been the subject of much media attention.

  Allen tore the poster from the wall, shredded it between his fingertips, and glanced at the hero's arrogant smile.

  "Hero...?" He is not deserving of such a title.

  Before lifting his gaze to the heavens, he exhaled deeply, his eyes tinged with sorrow.

  Graffiti adorned abandoned structures throughout the metropolis. The Puppeteer and Crimson Shadow were names that identified individuals who opposed the Federation's regulations, whom the world regarded as antagonists.

  Allen soon encountered a mural that depicted a starry sky. It evoked a fleeting smile from him. The name "Firmament, the Killer" was inscribed at the very summit.

  Firmament had never been observed; however, the narratives were consistently consistent: monsters discovered torn apart, criminals with fractured bones, and corpses that were beyond recognition. Each faction engaged in a debate regarding his true identity. He was referred to as a scoundrel by the government. He was classified as an EX-Rank Monster by the Federation.

  Allen was not fond of the pseudonym. A vessel through which he could deliver the justice the Federation refused to acknowledge, Firmament was a lingering echo of a past drenched in suffering. Allen maintained an unwavering conviction that his actions were morally correct.

  Allen arrived at his residence, a modest apartment situated on the fringes of the city, where he enjoyed a serene atmosphere and an exceptional view of the stars, half an hour later.

  As he prepared dinner, he was unable to resist viewing the news and turned on the television. The anchor reported the demise of yet another hero in the line of duty and displayed several monsters that were ravaging distant districts.

  Sirens suddenly sounded throughout the entire city.

  Allen stepped onto his veranda. A substantial dirigible projected the visage of the mayor of City F from above.

  "F-City residents, maintain composure and proceed to the underground bunker. This is not a drill."

  Allen ignited a cigarette in a composed manner. The projection changed to disclose a massive wolf with pitch-black fur and eyes that resembled voids.

  "The monster is currently located ten kilometers from the city." Impact is anticipated within an hour. A Federation unit is en route from the central district and will endeavor to restrain it.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  The transmission terminated abruptly.

  Allen exhaled the smoke into the darkness after taking a drag. The concept of concealing oneself in a shelter was meaningless. He concealed it in his pocket. "What is the necessity of having it near my residence?"

  He concealed it in his pocket. "What is the necessity of its proximity to my residence?"

  He ascended to the rooftop and took a seat. He could already discern the massive black silhouette as it approached from the distance.

  The Federation's hero team resumed their futile struggle fifteen minutes later. The wolf swatted them away as if they were vermin.

  A single hero, who was attired in a yellow military-style suit, struck the ground with his fist, causing a slight disturbance that briefly stunned the creature. "Team!"

  The yellow-clad hero issued the command, prompting the remaining four members to gather beside him. "If your life is at risk, retreat."

  Allen found the warning quite ludicrous, as he was acutely aware of the reality behind the Hero Federation. It was established subsequent to the emergence of pseudo-creatures with the intention of regulating humans who possessed special abilities. However, the reality was more bleak—hero work had evolved into a lucrative industry. Heroes were compensated in accordance with the number of criminals or monsters they murdered or captured under the Heroic Occupation Treaty. Their sole regulation was straightforward:

  Killing humans without abilities is forbidden.

  Everything else was business—a rationalization for avarice.

  One of the apprentices abruptly reversed direction. Something or someone was observing them.

  The wolf unleashed a single claw strike at that precise instant. The assault was only survived by two individuals: the apprentice who had detected the presence moments prior and the man in the yellow uniform.

  The apprentice pointed in the direction of the destination.

  A figure draped in white was suspended in the air before the wolf. He briefly observed the protagonists.

  "This is the result of reducing your defenses. This brute should not surpass Category 1. It is not powerful enough to destroy a city, but it is more than capable of instantaneously killing humans without being observed."

  The general in yellow glared at the intruder and pointed accusingly.

  "Who are you to presume to be? You are merely a hero with the ability to levitate; you do not possess combat capabilities."

  "I am curious... Is that accurate?"

  The individual in white beamed. His fist was clenched as if he were pulverizing a star as he raised his hand toward the heavens.

  "The beauty of stars is contingent upon one's viewpoint."

  As if he had stolen a fragment of the night sky itself, his fist flared into a radiant sphere of blinding light. The apprentice's pupils widened as he drew his arm behind him. He finally comprehended the identity of this individual. "Sir—we must depart!"

  General Titan was taken aback by the wolf's snarling and subsequent retreat, which led to the term "Lesser Star Fist."

  The man in white directed his luminous fist toward the wolf. The monster swelled grotesquely and detonated into a brilliant flash of white, splattering blood across the field in a matter of seconds.

  "What do you believe you are doing? The Federation required that specimen to remain alive!"

  The white-robed man merely smiled and gazed upward.

  "The stars are remarkably visible tonight."

  The apprentice yanked on the general's sleeve. "Sir... who is the sole human whose ability is unregistered by the Federation?"

  The individual in white adjusted his robe. The visitor did not confirm it. He merely gazed.

  The visitor did not confirm it. He merely gazed. "The Hero Federation would compensate you handsomely for your talent."

  "You are a student. I would like to offer you a piece of advice: the sole consequence of adhering to General Titan is death, which is the result of his unbridled enthusiasm for combat."

  And with that, Firmament vanished. General Titan's skin began to bleed as he clenched his forearms with such force.