Superhero

"I'm sick of this!" Under the spotlights, a man in a skintight suit fought back the urge to yawn amid countless camera flashes. Beside him, the emcee in a black suit was shouting with all his might:

"Even without me spelling it out, the facts speak for themselves! There's no doubt about it: once again, this year's number-one Superhero is the hero from Peanutton, the Immortal Body, Bick Pad!"

The audience erupted in cheers. At the center of the stage, standing tall among the many Superheroes, the man couldn't help wanting to yawn.

"I'm tired of this spot."

That was what he thought. Neither the beautiful women nor the cheering crowds, neither his fellow Superheroes nor the supervillains who had failed time and time again could stir the slightest interest in him anymore.

He had won too many times.

"I'm sick of being a Superhero!"

As people showered him with compliments, the man surveyed the room and fended off the reporters with the same well-worn answers he'd given countless times before. But just then, a voice broke through the noise—

"Mister Pad, we've just received some news, and we'd like to confirm it with you..."

"?" He gave no answer, merely shooting the top-tier media reporter a glance to indicate that he should continue.

"We heard that you're applying for a visa to Yan Country?"

Whoosh!

In almost an instant, the noisy venue fell silent, as if everything had been frozen in place. But then Bick Pad said, "That's right," and everything returned to normal.

"Mister Pad, I don't quite understand. Given your status and standing, why would you want to go to a place like Yan Country?"

"Isn't it obvious?" At the reporter's persistent questioning, Bick Pad flashed a brazen grin—

"Because only by going there can I become