A New Hero Association

"Wh— wh— whaaaat?! Shut down? You mean they shut down?"

Sonia's brown eyes trembled, refusing to believe what they were seeing. The bag of potato chips in her hand crumpled weakly, sending a cascade of crispy fragments clattering across the floor.

The cold blue light pouring from the monitor cast a strange pallor across her face. Smack in the center of the screen, a popup window floated with shameless confidence — a garish design of pink and yellow, topped with playful lettering that seemed to dance across the display.

The cheerful phrasing — as if announcing some delightful festival — seemed to mock the crushing weight of reality. Sonia's lips parted unconsciously.

The peaceful evening she'd spent the night before, giggling her way through the latest episodes of How a Genius Mechanic Falls Into Becoming a Lewd Cow~, shattered into pieces with those few short lines. Greasy fingers clenched around the mouse as Sonia scrolled down.

She'd hoped for a more detailed explanation — or at least a disclaimer that this was an April Fool's prank. What greeted her instead was mockery even more vicious.

Star and heart emoticons blinked at the end of each sentence, openly sneering at her foolishness. A hollow emptiness flooded her skull. Dizzying vertigo blurred her vision.

The version of herself from mere minutes ago — who'd casually powered on her computer thinking she might check tomorrow's commissions — now felt unbearably pathetic.

The moment she'd logged into the Hero Association's official site, what had greeted this D-class hero was a bankruptcy notice dressed up as a thank-you message. No — a carefully planned declaration of absconding.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Merging Point Hero Association Exit Scam. For Sonia, who had been nothing more than one of countless D-class heroes in Sky City, the grand overture of a story that would upend her entire life the moment she began searching for a new association was opening in a manner this hollow and wretched.

The world had fallen, but it hadn't been reduced entirely to ash. It wasn't the kind of catastrophe where people traded rusted bottle caps as currency on street corners — but the axis of the world had clearly twisted and begun to creak somewhere along the way.

People no longer died from a single ordinary bullet.

It had been a long time since folks started staring at empty air and shouting meaningless words like "status window."

Whether some dimensional gate had opened or not, beastfolk with pointed cat ears straight out of a fantasy novel strolled the streets. A world where androids with human rights, otherworldly races, and monsters all mixed together. Absolute chaos, in short.

To Sonia, the grand fate of such a world was of no immediate concern. In this moment, her entire universe fit inside the palm-sized screen of her communicator. Everything she was lived inside that little rectangular display.

"Hwaaah… haah… hnn… hic…"

Slender fingers pressed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hard on the bank app icon. A familiar loading screen flickered past, and then her account balance bloomed onto the display with a soft flash.

The number on the screen was pitifully meager. Practically zero. A despairing sigh escaped Sonia's lips, followed by a small sob.

In a world where monsters and dungeons appeared as a matter of course, the professions of hero and adventurer weren't particularly special.

Long ago, the awakened who specialized in fighting monsters had been called "hunters" — but that was already a generation past.

Sonia was simply one of the many people called "heroes," affiliated with an association, scraping by on commissions. And that very association had taken everything she had and vanished.

The news channels were covering the Merging Point Association incident nonstop. On screen, a female reporter stood before the empty association building, microphone in hand, her expression grim.

The camera panned through a shattered window to the pandemonium beyond. Someone was howling, demanding their money back. Someone else was laughing like a madman — "I even took out a loan to put money in… eheh. Whatever★" — before security dragged them away.

"Waaaagh! My money! Give me back my blood-and-sweat money, you scammers!"

"L-let go of me! At least let me take this computer monitor!"

If, instead of losing herself in a new series on the video platform Nebulix last night, Sonia had rushed to the association at the crack of dawn like the others, the story might have turned out a little differently.

Of course, the only difference would have been the hollow consolation of maybe snagging a beat-up office chair or a used computer tower.

The money Sonia had lost might have been a small sum compared to the heroes who'd taken out loans to invest in the association. But that money had been this D-class hero girl's entire fortune. The funds for next month's rent, the money for three meals a day — all of it, gone.

Right now, the Merging Point Hero Association building was a lawless zone of heroes who'd lost all reason to rage. Sonia was not bold enough to shove her way between musclebound heroes who looked ready to explode a person with one punch, just to grab some dust-caked electronics or scratched-up furniture.

She simply watched from a distance, dazed, as the space she'd once belonged to was plundered bare.

The method by which Merging Point had pulled off such a brazen con was cunning and gradual.

At first, it was a system that paid out commission rewards not in Sky City's official currency, but in association-issued "Merging Points" vouchers — with a bonus for those who accepted them.

An extra five percent. Then ten. The rate climbed until it finally hit twenty percent — a figure that defied all common sense. Eventually, they even advertised like a bank, promising high interest rates for depositing points.

They even set up a little mart inside the association, where you could buy not just basic repair tools and recovery items, but groceries and daily necessities — all with points.

Sonia, skilled at assembling computers on her own and handling complex mechanical systems, had mainly taken technical commissions — facility inspections, system maintenance — rather than combat work.

She'd considered herself reasonably smart, but when it came to reading malice in others or spotting clever deceptions, she was hopelessly naive.

Like most brilliant scientists, Sonia was a little short on social awareness and street smarts.

She'd diligently collected her commission pay in association coin, used it to buy rice and household goods, and lived a reasonably content life. Convenient, she'd thought. Smart, even. Right up until the moment she realized every bit of it had been carefully laid bait for a massive scam.

"I won't… ever fall for it again…!"

Sonia muttered the words hollowly into the cold city wind. A vow made after everything was already lost was a pitiful thing indeed.

Still, she couldn't give up yet. A body far tougher than any ordinary person's, and a mind steeped in mechanical engineering. Those two things alone were the only assets that let this girl scrape by as a hero in this harsh world. And then —

Bzzzt—

The communicator in her pocket vibrated briefly. The number on the screen was unsaved — one she'd never seen before. Sonia's contact list held fewer than ten numbers total.

An unknown number, at a time like this. She probably should have suspected a voice-phishing scam — but with no money left to be scammed out of, Sonia pressed the call button without much thought.

"Hello?"

"Good day. Pursuant to the Sky City Association Acquisition Regulations, we are contacting you via the personal communication number of affiliated hero Sonia, which was transferred to us. Is the person who answered this call Sonia?"

The voice on the other end was a woman's — flat, rigid, utterly devoid of emotional fluctuation, like a machine.

It had the unnatural quality of someone reading straight from a carefully written script, with only the name "Sonia" freshly plugged into the blanks. But this was a world where every kind of human, android, and otherworldly race mixed together. Maybe her way of speaking was just a little unusual. Sonia let it slide without much concern.

"Yes, that's me! I'm Sonia… what is this about?"

"As of the current time, are you affiliated with any particular association?"

Another question that felt locked into a predetermined framework. The voice, stripped of all emotion, sounded less human ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠than a highly sophisticated synthetic tone. But the content of those words set Sonia's heart pounding with hope.

"Ah…! That? Is this about that? The… the scout thing! They said Merging Point victim heroes would be accepted by other associations as a form of relief — no, recruitment — as long as there weren't any serious disqualifying issues! Right? Oh, thank goodness…"

Her voice trembled thinly, as if she'd found a single ray of light at the bottom of a pit of despair.

"Yes. You understand correctly, Sonia. We have reviewed your activity records from your previous association, and as a result, we have reached the conclusion that we wish to scout you into ours. We request that you visit the association in person for further details."

"R-right now? Yes! I'll come right away! Where do I go?"

Before her frantic cry had even finished, the other party hung up without a word of reply.

"Huh…?"

No "We'll be waiting." No "Please travel safely." Not even the barest courtesy. With a sharp click, the call ended unilaterally, and the communicator emitted nothing but a dry, monotonous dial tone. Beep— beep—

Ding-♪

Before Sonia could even process the rudeness, a new notification appeared on her screen.

"Oh… uh… um…? A voucher…?"

What appeared on the screen was no mere taxi fare. Linked to the map application, it was a "Free Pass" ticket loaded with more than enough credit to travel from her current location to the designated association building — and back home again with plenty to spare.

At the center of the image file sat a sleek, geometric association logo. The sheer financial power and clean efficiency of it left Sonia speechless.

There was no reason to hesitate. She bolted straight for the roadway and thrust her arm high into the air.

"Hey! Taxi!"

As if recognizing her slender hand, a sleek, streamlined taxi floating in midair descended smoothly and came to a stop before her.

A soft hiss as the door lifted upward. Fully autonomous, driverless taxis were a common sight in Sky City. Without a second thought, Sonia sank into the plush seat.