Just because Garou had no worldly desires did not mean everyone else was the same.
And so, the day after his special training, Garou headed down the mountain to meet his daily Hero activity quota, only to be stopped in downtown Z City.
"Weird. Why does it feel like the Monsters in this city have been getting harder and harder to find these past two days...?"
Scratching the back of his head, which seemed to have become a hundred million times smarter after the two old men-his master and his master's senior-had tag-teamed him, Garou walked down the street and scanned his surroundings with a listless gaze, clearly unable to muster much enthusiasm.
After all, searching and waiting were among the tasks that tested a person's patience the most.
And what little patience Garou originally had had long since been worn away by his master and his senior's successive rounds of instruction. The only difference between him and a powder keg now was a fuse.
He was what people commonly called a hotheaded young punk.
Z City was currently in the aftermath of a major battle. The fall of the Monster Association had taken away 99.99 percent of the Monsters gathered in the city.
Only a day had passed. It was not that there were no newly born Monsters, but their spawn points had decreased drastically. How could encountering Monsters in broad daylight be that easy?
With the other Heroes active in the city also carrying out their Hero activities, Garou's Monster-hunting time had unwittingly stretched even further.
Just as Garou passed a deserted alley, two pairs of eyes appeared in the darkness. Two shadowy figures with indistinct faces stood in the shadows, watching the white-haired youth passing ahead with ill intent as they lowered their voices to whisper.