I want to become a Kamen Rider

Kawasaki Saki turned her head at the sound of his voice. A hint of surprise flashed in her sharp blue eyes when she saw him, but she quickly regained her composure and nodded.

"Hachiman? It's you. You're not dead."

The phrase "You're not dead" sounds a bit impolite, but he's been asked the same question so many times over the past few days that he's gotten used to it.

Hachiman Hikigaya scratched his head and nodded:

"Yes, he didn't die. He was saved by Kamen Rider Kuuga when he was about to lose everything."

For him, Komachi was everything he had left.

"Oh, I see. You were also saved by the Anti-Japanese Military and Political University."

Looking at the badge on the other person's chest that seemed to represent some kind of rank, he hesitated for a moment before asking.

"You're a Kamen Rider, right?"

"Ah."

If it were the old Hachiman who had always loved Kamen Rider, he would probably be very excited right now, asking how he could become a Kamen Rider.

Although I still hold that thought, it has faded considerably.

It's not that he no longer admires heroes, but his experience three days ago made him realize that he has neither the courage nor the awareness to do so. He is not someone like the Second Minister.

Seeing the atmosphere and scene turn cold, he tried to make conversation.

"You said 'also' earlier? Was it because you were saved by Kuuga and wanted to become a hero like him who could help others, that you became a Kamen Rider?"

He was stunned, expecting to hear a typical story of someone being saved by a knight, developing admiration and longing, and eventually becoming the hero they admired through hard work.

The girl told him with a calmness that came as if she were peeling away a scar.

"Yes, 'yes'. When the Anti-King arrived, my whole family had been killed by the Grongi, and I was the only one left. I became a Kamen Rider to avenge my family."

"……Feel sorry."

After thinking for a long time, he couldn't think of anything to comfort him, so he could only apologize.

"Why are you apologizing? The ones who should really repent are those monsters and demons. I don't want to hear apologies from good people. Besides... we've already gotten our revenge."

"..."

He lowered his head, wanting to slink away in disgrace.

But then, it seemed as if it remembered something else—the grotesque appearance of the monster it had seen, and the girl before it, who had been a gentle soul not long ago but had now become like this.

"Even after you've taken your revenge, you still choose to continue being a Kamen Rider, fighting those terrifying monsters..."

"Ah."

"As for Kamen Rider, isn't there Kuuga?"

The answer I received was beyond my expectations.

"With just an umbrella, you can avoid a brief shower of cold rain, but you can't avoid the entire rainy season."

Chapter 87 The Trajectory of History

Memory is like a heavy piece of metal, carrying the scent of old rubber and rust.

That counterfeit, known as the artificial knight, is the final roar and cry of humanity, a species that has dominated the earth for 250,000 years, in the face of annihilation and the threat of extinction.

It is a counterattack of an era, the pinnacle of human wisdom, the crystallization of countless people's hard work and genuine tears.

However, the process of becoming an artificial knight is far too cruel. It's not about gaining power by making a contract with a suspicious, white, furry alien creature, nor is it about becoming stronger by developing twisted emotions through romance. Instead, it requires gradual accumulation, using the pitiful sweat of a weak mortal to exchange for the mighty power of heaven and earth.

Even later, after battling all sorts of enemies and competing with countless opponents with various abilities, embarking on an endless path of struggle, this memory remains one of the most painful memories for Fan Kang.

The training base wasn't bright and clean; instead, it contained cold steel equipment, worn-out rubber floors, and the ever-present smell of sweat in the air. Fluorescent lights hummed, illuminating the weight plates and sandbags piled up in the corner.

"Tell me, with us being so weak, can we really call ourselves Kamen Riders?"

The second candidate, known for his dead fish eyes, looked at the figure next to him who was constantly training; he was the first candidate.

The number one substitute didn't pause for a moment, as if the questioning voices were just a breeze brushing past his ears. Day after day, day after day, day after day, he never stopped, without a moment's rest.

The second candidate spoke to himself.

"The human body has its limits. If we keep training and end up dissolving our muscles, we might as well hope that the technical department or the equipment department will make any progress."

Finally, during a break in his punch, the number one substitute turned his head to the side.

Sweat trickled down his sharply defined jawline, dripping onto his chest. He forced a sweaty, slightly weary smile at Candidate Number Two, his voice steady and his breathing calm:

“I’ll stop before I reach my limit,” he said, pointing to his temple. “Then, I’ll simulate the battlefield and tactics here.”

"But everyone says you have no talent. Whether it's fists, feet, guns, knives, or swords."

Looking at that tireless figure, the second candidate felt an even deeper sense of powerlessness welling up inside him. He counted on his fingers, his voice heavy with long-suppressed frustration:

"Reaction speed, energy adaptability, neural link stability... every test report says you have 'limited potential'! Don't you listen?"

"Let them talk. I didn't get into this line of work to get praise or be defined as 'talented'."

"Aren't you even a little bit confused, Fan Kang?!"

Candidate number one suddenly turned around and faced candidate number two directly.

His gaze was sharp as a knife, piercing through the dim lights of the training hall, meeting those lifeless eyes:

"If being lost could help, I'd be lost for a whole day! Twenty-four hours! As long as that could bring back the mother and daughter who died at the hands of the Shocker cyborgs yesterday, even just one of them!!"

The defiant roar echoed through the empty training hall, making the second candidate's eardrums ring. He saw the man before him his chest heaving violently, sweat pouring down like streams, and the flames in his eyes burning so intensely they seemed to set him on fire.

"But if we keep training like this, can we really become Kamen Riders? In the end, artificial Riders are inherently inferior to Contract Riders. We work so hard, but from the very beginning we've decided that we can't beat those kids who can become stronger just by falling in love and playing around with grudges. Is that fair?"

The number one substitute resumed training. He walked to a corner, skillfully hooked a heavy sandbag with his toe, and then hooked the thick iron chain connecting the sandbag with his other foot, pulling it up as easily as if he were playing with a toy. He casually shook the sandbag, the iron chain rattling.

"If you're talking about strength, then you're definitely destined to lose. After all, the world is material; it's impossible for you or me to gain power like the heroes in stories just by shouting and yelling. But if you're asking whether you can become a Kamen Rider, then it has nothing to do with strength."

"How could there be no connection?"

"How could there be any connection?"

He released his foot, and the heavy sandbag crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The number one substitute walked to a broken box piled with miscellaneous items in the corner of the training hall and casually rummaged through it to find a crudely made plastic knight mask that some student had abandoned—it was probably just a prop from some children's carnival, with clumsy graffiti on it.

Candidate number one picked up the comical mask, held it up against his own face, and then looked at candidate number two:

“Listen, Hachiman. Even if you just stick a piece of plastic on your face, or use any children’s toy mask as your mask, as long as you’re willing to stand up for others, then no matter what you’re wearing, what you’re holding, whether you have a belt, or a contract… you are! Kamen Rider!”

He took off the comical mask and started throwing punches again.

Day after day, day after day, day after day, without ever stopping.

"Otherwise, even if you're like the protagonists of those light novels with sister complexes that you read every day, even if you receive a divine blessing or some inexplicable thing that allows you to destroy an entire planet, an entire galaxy, or even an entire universe with one punch, but you use that power to boast in front of others and satisfy your selfish desires, no matter how much that kind of person calls himself a knight, he will not be recognized."

.........

……

I woke up from the dream and remembered things from a very, very long time ago.

Fan Kang's head slammed heavily against the cold metal tabletop, the chill from his forehead barely dispelling a trace of the leaden weariness deep within his brain.

He patted his face, preparing to welcome the next batch of "patients".

Turning an Orphnoch back into a human is a very complicated matter. It's not something that can be done recklessly just because you have the so-called power to manipulate elementary particles.

In theory, manipulating three fundamental particles, such as colliding deuterium and tritium with helium, could achieve nuclear fusion. Nuclear fission would be even simpler. So why doesn't he do it? Is it because he doesn't want to?

It can't be.

It's not that they really can't do it, but only someone who's bored and has nothing better to do would do it.

The universe is governed by the conservation of energy. Equivalent exchange is not only a principle of alchemy but also a principle of all things. You must give as much as you receive. If you do not give enough, it does not mean that you have violated this principle, but rather that you have achieved equivalence under certain rules that you have not noticed.

It was only after a foolish attempt and paying the price that he truly came to believe in the parallel universe theory. After all, traversing time or stopping time is much simpler than reversing the time of an entire world.

In comics, heroes can avert tragedies with a single stroke of the artist's pen, while real-life warriors are constantly reminded that the dead cannot be brought back to life and tragedies cannot be undone. Therefore, he, who once scoffed at the idea of ​​reincarnation in another world, now betrays his former self, preferring stories where one can easily become stronger and rise again with a single roar.

Because no matter what, I want that kind of ending, an ending where everyone can be saved.

The heavy metal door slid open silently.

"Next, Hachiman Hikigaya." The cold, synthesized electronic voice announced.

Fan Kang took a deep breath, forced himself to straighten his back, and tried to make his eyes look clearer.

However, unlike the other "patients," the newcomer did not approach the prepared conversion pod with a tense or expectant expression. He stopped in front of him, his signature dead fish eyes unusually calm, carrying a resolute quality that Fan Kang had never seen in him before.

No, he had seen it before, he had seen it a thousand times, thirty years later.

"Second Minister, I'm not doing the conversion anymore."

The boy with dead fish eyes looked at him and said.

"I want to become a Kamen Rider, to protect my sister, and to protect others."

That sound almost made him faint.

Because back then, in that freezing cold, there was a face with the same dead fish eyes, who told him that he wanted to become a Kamen Rider to avenge his sister.

"I want to become a Kamen Rider! To avenge my sister... and all those like me!"

I'd heard similar words before, but last time it was for revenge, this time it's for protection.

"...Didn't we already agree on this? You would turn back into a human and return to a peaceful life. Komachi is waiting for you."

Perhaps he wasn't entirely without selfish motives; at the very least, he wanted to see his once close friends, like Hachiman Hikigaya, living under the peace he created and witnessing how his battles truly changed their destinies. There might be a reason why he infiltrated the Service Club and stayed at Soubu High School.

Is this the predetermined trajectory of history?

“A girl named Eleanor told me that the Knights Council is currently experimenting with artificial knights, but the technology is very limited and can only provide limited enhancements to the subjects. Therefore, it would be best to have someone with extremely high physical strength to be the artificial knight.”

Was it because he was an Orphnoch that that mentally unstable guy took a liking to him?

"Wait a moment, I'll make a phone call."

Fan Kang hadn't been this angry in a long time. Well, actually, he was still quite often angry. He would get angry every time he saw someone die because of those things. It's just that more lives could be saved, so he didn't get angry as often.

The communication was established almost instantly.

"Moshi moshi~?"

A clear, lively, and even slightly playful female voice came from the receiver.

"Did you bewitch Hachiman Hikigaya, Eleanor?"

"Don't think too badly of people. I interviewed all 341 awakened Orphnochs affected by this event on an equal footing. I gave them advice: go back to being ordinary people, or... try to grasp another power to prevent their tragedy from happening to others."

The question was asked, but the answer was not the trajectory of history, but something else entirely.

"This is actually a very common occurrence. There are always people like this, there should always be people like this, who see tragedy and don't shy away, but instead rush towards it."

"Out of 341 people, I received 340 rejections; the remaining one was a choice made by free will."

"It's not that I've been bewitched; it's just that Hachiman might have a gentle heart, like you, that feels sorrow for the misfortunes of others, even those unrelated to me."

Chapter 88 Never Regretted (4K)

Eleanor Anderbel had a dream since she was a child.

That is to rule the world.

It wasn't to put herself at the top, nor was it out of possessiveness or a desire to conquer; she simply wanted to transform this filthy world into a beautiful place that could accept the weak and alleviate poverty.

Born into a prestigious family, even a royal family, she came to understand early on that people are not equal. It is because people are not equal that the ancients proclaimed, "All men are created equal." It is because the blood of kings and nobles can truly be passed down through power that some people rise up and question, "Are kings and nobles born with a special destiny?"

Regardless of the system, the country, or the ideology, it is difficult for people to achieve true equality, at least for the foreseeable future.

She is not the first to want to change the world, nor will she be the last.

If it weren't for that white ringed beast, if the world hadn't undergone that earth-shattering change, if it didn't have so many enemies like Shocker, Black Satan, Chiton, and Galshocker, her life's trajectory would almost have been predetermined: to become an exquisitely carved and gilded vase, a prop for a political marriage.

But then a suspicious white alien creature appeared, and the power called the Contract Knight was given superhuman strength. She seized the opportunity, killed all her other family members who competed with her for power, stood at the pinnacle of her family, and then took control of the Knight Council, unified Europe, and finally set her sights on her original and ultimate goal.

Rule the world.

People always place too much importance on non-material social rules, but physics is greater than everything. Having acquired something called power, she gained countless opportunities to try and fail, step by step, until she reached where she is now, until... she encountered an even stronger Kuuga.

While she was saved, she was also severely punished in the days that followed.