The Weight of Numbers
Over the past two weeks, the downtown streets of Area 4 had changed. Mari drove while I sat in the back seat, chin resting on my hand as I stared out the window. The scenery was familiar, yet the complete absence of people made it feel strangely empty. In this kind of silence, villains should have appeared by now, but even they were nowhere to be seen. The longer this unnatural peace lasted, the more unsettling it became.
I clenched my fist and propped my chin on it instead. Originally—well, right after my body changed—this posture would have been impossible due to my height. But after multiple regenerations, I had apparently grown tall enough to rest my arm on the door frame.
"Still sulking?"
"I'm not sulking. How old do you think I am?"
Even though my body had transformed, I couldn't claim the change hadn't affected me at all. My mind, however, remained the same.
"By the way, I sent the message, but they didn't seem very convinced..."
"Well, that's to be expected."
Honestly, even I found my current situation hard to believe. It felt similar to the idea that some immensely powerful superhuman was messing with my head. So it was only natural they wouldn't believe it.
"Couldn't we just skip it...?"
"This is part of my duties as a representative hero. We have to go."
I hadn't left the house at all for two weeks, and my body felt stiff. More importantly, I couldn't neglect my responsibilities. The quiet, peaceful street suddenly came alive with the bustle of a lively city. We must have crossed out of Area 4 and into Area 3. I had never actually seen any structure marking the district boundaries. Not that I could request they add more markers either.
The Representative Hero Selection Match was being held in the heart of the country, slightly north of Area 1. To get there from Area 4, we had to pass through Areas 3 and 5. I turned my gaze to the view outside the window. Unlike Area 4, Area 3 had buildings that easily exceeded thirty stories. The roads were packed with cars and pedestrians, and people sat chatting at tables outside coffee shops. It looked just as vibrant as ever.
Area 5 probably wasn't much different from Area 3. Actually, the fact that there was a noticeable difference was what felt strange. We drove for another several dozen minutes. This time, unlike before, a massive gate came into view. That must be the structure separating the districts. I couldn't quite remember its name, but I had heard it was named after some great figure and their achievements. Probably matched some historical person's name.
The car I was in passed beside the gate. Now we were in Area 5. Though we had come from Area 3, Area 5 looked almost identical. It made me think about how absurd it all was. Why did everyone care so much about the number attached to a district? People with a 1 acted like they were superior. Those with an 11 were treated as the lowest rank. And those with a 4 were considered unlucky. The capable ones gathered in Area 1, the low-ranked ones were pushed to Area 11, and the unlucky ones ended up in Area 4. In the end, things had become exactly what the numbers suggested.
Sometimes I wondered—if we left the number 4 blank and shifted all the others back by one, wouldn't Area 4 become Area 5 and feel more peaceful? Of course, Area 4 currently had the lowest crime rate in history, but that was only because of the current special circumstances.
"Mari."
"Are you trying to tease me with my name again?"
"What do you think about the district numbers?"
"Oh, that's a different topic. I was wondering why you were jumping around so randomly—"
"Not the order. I mean the fact that they're named after numbers."
The districts hadn't always been nameless. They each had proper names and were divided into quite detailed sections. Then someone lumped them all together and labeled them with numbers from 1 to 11. If they were going to rename everything anyway, they could have just added cardinal directions to random characters and created dozens of new district names. I wasn't questioning their intentions. There had simply been too much going on at the time. The chaos of those one or two years rivaled the total events of the following eighty years. To unite people's strength, they probably wanted to erase small distinctions that could divide them—surnames, regions, personalities, and so on. Changing surnames would have been too sensitive back then, and grouping by personality wouldn't have been enough to foster unity. So renaming the districts was probably the most feasible option.
But times had changed, and the population had grown. There was no reason not to restore the original names, yet far too many people opposed the idea. They probably found the numbered districts inconvenient too, but they refused to give up the number 1 even if it meant enduring that inconvenience.
"I think it's fine the way it is."
"That's unexpected."
Her answer genuinely surprised me. Since she was also from Area 4, I had assumed she would feel negatively about it. But "it's fine the way it is"?
"I guess people from different generations think differently."
"The only thing that bothers me is when people mock me for being from Area 4. I've never really thought of it as inconvenient beyond that."
"That's surprising too. Our district's crime rate is over five times higher than others. And it's not like you've never lived elsewhere."
Even immigrants from other countries couldn't endure Area 4 and immediately moved to neighboring Area 10 or 3, or went back to China. Yet she claimed she didn't find it inconvenient.
"Does that really count as inconvenient? My job is basically delivering heroes to a terrorist zone every single day."
"Mari, I'm a person."
"Well, I didn't like it much when I was younger, but now I do."
"If that's the reason, then I guess it's not wrong."
....
......
My arm was starting to cramp. Mari wouldn't appreciate bloodstains in the car, so I couldn't just regenerate it. I would have to keep this pose—fist under my chin—until we arrived.
....
......
Just then, a massive clock tower came into view—the structure dividing Area 5 and Area 1. It was named after Banbalsin, a figure active eighty years ago. Even though it was built after his death, I hoped he would have felt some pride seeing it. Come to think of it, people had started abbreviating these structures recently. I wondered if there was even a proper way to shorten—
Thud—!
Crack—
The car jolted, and my jaw twisted from the impact against my fist. Because I had been stretching as far as possible to prop up my chin, the twist was even more severe. On top of that, my right arm—now free from its position—started to go numb.
"Ghhhk..."
"Why did you suddenly—?!"
Fortunately, the twist wasn't bad enough to require regeneration, but the sudden pain still caught me off guard. Part of it was that I hadn't experienced this kind of pain in years, but the bigger factor was probably how much weaker my body had become.
"I'm fine, it's okay."
When my jaw twisted, I must have bitten my tongue too—the pain reached there as well. I flicked my tongue around to check for blood, but there was no taste of it. More importantly, I didn't remember any section of road that would cause such a violent jolt. Had construction been done in between? I turned around and looked through the rear window. There was no construction zone, just a single speed bump...
Wait. I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned forward to check the dashboard. Something had felt off earlier. The distance to Area 1 should have taken three hours, yet we had arrived in two. I had assumed it was just my imagination or good traffic conditions, but...
"Mari? Isn't 120 kilometers per hour speeding?"
"It's a hero's privilege."
"Is that actually okay?"
"..."
"Mari?"
***
Fortunately, there were no accidents. I had no idea what Mari was thinking when she heard my words and raised the speed to 150 kilometers per hour, but at least there were no accidents. It was lucky that the day of the Selection Match—well, the Usurpation Match—had been designated a holiday, so the roads were empty. Otherwise, Mari might have ended up on forced leave. I was grateful I didn't get carsick.
"...Did we really need to get here this fast?"
"Of course. Since you said you weren't planning to make a public appearance, we should arrive when there aren't many people around. If I'm with you, someone might notice. And if I'm not with you, you wouldn't even be able to find the way."
She had a point. Quite a few people at the central branch knew about my relationship with Mari. Even if they didn't figure it out immediately, plenty would suspect it was me. And even if they didn't, there would still be people making unnecessary assumptions.
It was currently 9:45 a.m. Not exactly early, but since the event started at 2 p.m., most heroes probably hadn't arrived yet. That guy would have shown up around 7:07, 7:17, or 7:49 a.m., so he was probably resting or sleeping. Formally offering congratulations and blessings was expected, but many heroes didn't bother attending. Still, since we had some connection, I planned to say something like "I offered my blessings before the event due to circumstances."
"We don't know when people will start arriving, so let's get this over with and leave quickly."
"Understood."
"..."
"..."
"Lead the way. What are you waiting for?"
"Ah, right. You're so confident that I thought you already knew the way."
"Don't overestimate someone with no sense of direction."