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Now reading: Chapter 51: Jovian Helps Everyone with the Exam from The Viltrumite Across the Worlds, a Fantasy novel by Razeil.

"Ahhh~"

"Looks like I’m late~"

"In that case, I’ll just go fight people for bargains at the supermarket!"

At that mont, so bald guy who didn’t have a single hair on his head strolled right between the giant’s kid brother’s legs.

Elsewhere, inside the Hero Association’s hero-selection arena.

"Hey! Do you even know how to line up?!"

"Don’t you know what ’first co, first served’ ans?!"

"Yeah! Yeah!"

"So you can fly—big deal! Get in line like the rest of us!"

Countless trainee heroes stared up at the white figure hovering in the air after smashing through the stadium ceiling, shouting their protests.

In a world packed with all kinds of heroes and evil monsters, flight wasn’t so insane, rare power. So even though they had clearly seen Jovian display terrifying strength, they still dared to mouth off.

"Hm?!"

Jovian frowned at the yelling.

"So you’re all the ones ahead of in line, right?"

Jovian hovered there and asked.

"What else would we be?! If you get it, then hurry up and get behind us!"

"You asshole—at least you know basic rules, right?!"

A burly man over two ters tall roared at Jovian.

"Nothing I can do about it..."

Jovian rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.

"Been a while since I worked up a sweat. Might as well do a little of my actual job and help the Hero Association take out the trash, yeah?"

Jovian said it with a smile.

"What the hell are you planning to do?!"

The big man’s brow twitched. A bad feeling crawled up his spine.

"Boom!"

Before he could even process what Jovian ant, Jovian was already in front of him—and imdiately swung a massive backhand slap across his face.

"Your reactions are garbage and your body’s not tough enough. With that, you want to be a hero? Go ho and train for ten years. Figure out how to protect yourself first!"

Jovian’s voice was ice-cold as the big man went flying.

"What is he doing?!"

The entire group of hero hopefuls stared, eyes wide.

They couldn’t believe soone would start throwing hands here.

And they couldn’t believe that guy had been so helpless in front of Jovian.

"And you lot—sa thing. You’re the ones ahead of too, right?"

"Your testing is taking forever. Looks like you need a little help."

Jovian rolled his neck again and shot toward the crowd of clowns in ridiculous costus.

He dive-bombed straight into them, scattering them like bowling pins.

"Damn it!"

Soone tried to fight back, squaring up in an MMA stance.

"Stay in your lane."

Jovian grabbed the guy by his clothes and hurled him into the air.

"Wham!"

In an instant, the would-be rebel slamd into the ceiling—crack—and his head was permanently embedded up there.

"T-That... that’s a new record..."

A professional examiner who was tracking results stared at the test subject’s head stuck in the ceiling, trying to figure out how the hell you were supposed to score this.

Before the examiner could decide, every person waiting for the jumping test got tossed upward by Jovian—one after another—until their heads were all jamd into the ceiling.

Perfect scores across the board.

One guy’s body even punched clean through the ceiling, breaking the record again.

"And you!"

After finishing with that batch, Jovian moved to the 100-ter sprint station.

He lifted his leg and kicked the waiting test-takers hard in the ass...

"Wham!"

The clown-costud hero hopeful beca a blur and shot past the finish line.

The mont he crossed, the display flashed:

470 m/s

"Supersonic..."

The examiner’s mouth fell open.

Then Jovian’s leg beca a storm of kicks, launching more and more test-takers forward.

510 m/s

380 m/s

1080 m/s

"Holy shit, call an ambulance! This big guy used his crotch as the brakes—get him to ergency surgery, now!"

The exam staff stared at the shredded, censored-blur bodybuilder in horror.

"Next up: the punch-strength machine!"

Jovian flashed over to the device.

A lean, muscular man was standing there, completely focused.

"I can do it! I can create a miracle!"

"I’m going to make my hotown proud! I’m going to beco a superhero who protects Earth!"

A few beads of sweat ran down his forehead. He gathered all his strength and swung a fist at the punch tester.

"Too slow!"

Right as he was about to punch, a sharp bark rang out. He felt a massive force slam into the back of his head—

—and the next second, his fairly handso face smashed into the machine instead.

"Boom!"

A dull impact echoed out as the punch tester instantly crumpled into a heap of mangled scrap.

"Look at your face. If you actually put the work in, you can do it."

Jovian spoke softly to the man whose face had beco a censored blur as he lay there barely breathing.

"And you guys too. You all need a little help..."

Jovian turned toward the long line of people still waiting...

Half an hour later.

"Manager."

A man in a black suit stepped out of a car, blond hair neatly middle-parted. Several Hero Association staff outside imdiately nodded respectfully.

"So what, exactly, is going on here?"

The blond man questioned the staff about the hero exam situation.

"Uh... honestly, we can’t really explain it."

"So... please, you should take a look yourself."

Sweat dripped down the staff mber’s forehead as he answered nervously.

"Heh."

"Relax. You’re Hero Association staff—people who’ve seen the world. No need to look this pathetic over sothing unexpected."

The round-glasses executive with blond hair chuckled lightly. He was a man of experience; he wasn’t about to be shocked by so little surprise.

"Understood."

The staff bowed their heads, acknowledging the lesson.

"Mhm..."

The Hero Association executive cleared his throat, straightened his collar, walked up to the exam gym, and shoved the doors open.

"This is—what the fuck..."

His eyes went wide.

"Bzzzt... bzzzt..."

Inside the Hero Association’s special hero-exam gym—rated only Level 9 defense, supposedly able to withstand multiple Dragon-level monsters attacking at the sa ti for over an hour—it looked like it had been ripped apart by a Level 12 hurricane.

Not a single facility inside was intact.

Cables hung everywhere, bare and exposed, crackling with electricity.

The people who had co here dreaming of becoming heroes were all sprawled across the ground, barely conscious, piled together like a small mountain.

And on top of that human heap, a man in a tight white suit—an enormous F printed across his chest—smiled as he looked at the blond executive walking in.

"Yo~"

"Now that’s a big shot."

The white figure grinned at the Hero Association executive.

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