I want to become a Kamen Rider

Fan Kang leaned back in his chair, his fingertips tracing the spirit stone at his waist, and said calmly:

"I hereby declare the Third Knights' Council of the Veiled Age to begin!"

He snapped his fingers, and a faint blue light shone down, displaying recent news stories such as "Credit Card Repair Robbery of Supermarket," "Credit Card Repair Robbery on the Road," and "Credit Card Repair Kidnapping of Citizens" on a cheap projection screen he had bought from a second-hand market.

Despite the impressive opening, despite the fact that the twelve people present, including Kuuga, possess the power to overthrow a country, and despite the fact that they are Kamen Riders who are guardians of humanity after evil from fantasy has entered reality, the so-called Kamen Rider Council is unreliable, just like the projection screen above their heads is a cheap item that they haggled over at a second-hand market.

It's obvious, really. Given Kyubey's way of choosing hosts, more than half of the twelve knights present were high school girls who still had to go to school every day. How could this Knight Council be reliable? Even the projection screen was bought with money pooled together by the twelve of them.

It's almost fair to say that, at this moment, with all sorts of monsters and demons lurking around, like the Oddity, the fact that the area around Tokyo hasn't descended into chaos is entirely thanks to Fan Kang alone in C.

It's no wonder that both his cheap apprentice and Miss Toyokawa expressed concern about his situation. He gave others the opportunity to give up, but what about himself?

Contrary to his foresight, there were no mass casualties, only his own growing exhaustion from the prolonged battle and the utter deterioration of his colleagues.

According to the original history, the Contract Knights would have either died, been wounded, or fallen into despair. He avoided that future, rewriting this fate, and naturally, the Contract Knights as a group became weaker. Fan Kang would not regret the choice he made. No matter how difficult or dire his current situation was, it was still much better than a future where everyone died and even children had to fight.

The projection screen showed the atrocities committed by the Shocker cyborgs—a bank counter that had been emptied, a police officer with his chest pierced by an unknown weapon, limbs covered in fluorescent green engine oil on the street, an increase in reports of missing persons, and the final image was a graffiti piece with the words "Human evolution requires blood to lubricate" written next to the distorted Shocker logo.

"Gentlemen," the knight "Shadowmoon," who was presiding over the meeting, tapped the table. Her voice was sharp and matched her silver figure, "unlike the previous attacks by various strange people who didn't know their affiliation, the Shockers have launched a clear operation. Although it's small-scale, the local police force is more than capable of handling it..."

Sparse, scattered red dots appeared on the projection screen, each representing a Shocker attack. The sheer number of these dots was even less than the number of human security incidents.

“But according to the ‘setting,’ the Shockers might capture innocent citizens for modification. I propose forming a joint extermination team, with five people on standby and rotating every day and night.”

This statement drew opposition from many of the knights present.

The reason is simple: they need to go to school.

Moreover, objectively speaking, the activities of the Shocker fighters so far have been minor and can be handled by the police.

This is an unpaid job. Perhaps some people will use the power of Kamen Rider to profit for themselves in private, and perhaps others will receive help in return from those they help, but on the surface, there is no reward.

It's perfectly reasonable that without pay, people lose motivation. Not everyone should have to be like him. Fan Kang didn't criticize anything; he just sat there quietly watching them discuss.

"Exams are next week, and ultimately, the damage caused by the Schugers isn't that significant..."

"Although I didn't participate in any clubs, I still had to go to a private school after school because I needed to prepare for university entrance exams."

"Ugh, trigonometric function homework!"

"Let's spread it first!"

"I think we should do more to help out Sora-senpai..."

"But the situation doesn't seem that bad?"

Putting aside the environment and the armor they were wearing, the scene before us was more like a group of people having an after-school chat about whether or not to go to karaoke.

Occasionally, a few genuinely helpful suggestions are voiced, but they are quickly drowned out.

"Let's vote."

"Shadowmoon's" voice finally revealed a hint of fatigue, and the projection screen switched to the voting interface.

The twelve seats were illuminated by a bright blue voting light strip, except for the "Kuuga" seat, which was glowing gold. He did not participate in the voting; he was simply doing what he was supposed to do.

"Against intervention in the Shocker incident: 7 votes."

"Abstentions: 3 votes"

"In favor: 1 vote."

A crack appeared in the cave's dome, and artificial sunlight pierced the round table like a sword of judgment.

The carefully crafted voting effects now seem somewhat ironic.

Now that the results were in, the meeting should end. After briefly dividing up their respective defense zones and exchanging the Monster Seeds and Fallen Rider Seeds, most of the Kamen Riders present dispersed.

"call--"

After reverting to his original form, Fan Kang didn't rush off like the others. Instead, he sat there and let out a long sigh.

A ray of light pierced through a crack in the cave ceiling, cutting thin golden lines across the stone table. The azure light from the voting interface had long since faded, and a section of the cheap projection screen hung down, its data cable buzzing like a decapitated mechanical snake.

Most of the twelve seats were empty. The boy's thin back sank into the stone chair, and a concerned voice came from behind him.

"Master, Master, I brought tea and biscuits."

Contrary to her cool voice and icy appearance, Hibiki's demon mask dissipated into particles of light, and a black-haired girl with a fawning expression pulled out a small square box.

The box was opened, revealing two cups of tea, biscuits, several grilled fish rice balls, and side dishes.

"Now that everyone's gone, Master, have you eaten and drunk your fill and will teach me a few moves?"

"I'm not your master, you're not allowed to call me that."

"Yes, master."

Fan Kang lifted his chin and glanced at his cheap apprentice, Mizutani Migen. The girl was testing the temperature of the teacup with the base of her thumb and forefinger, looking honest and simple, probably hoping to learn something from him.

He pondered to himself that this girl seemed quite obedient, and she probably wouldn't refuse if he asked her to deal with Shocker. But even so, there were only two riders. Moreover, the high school girls who opposed the decision during the previous vote were right; the Shocker combatants weren't active at the moment. Chasing after Shocker instead of hunting down monsters and Grongi felt like using a cannon to kill a mosquito.

Seeing that he hadn't spoken, the girl tilted her head:

Is Master angry?

"I do not have."

“They clearly do, but they don’t even correct my way of addressing you, Master.”

Muttering something, she suggested:

"Why doesn't Master just overturn the vote and let everyone deal with the Schuga? With Master's prestige and strength, no one would dare to object."

"That would make me force them to fight. They are not soldiers, not warriors, just ordinary people who happened to obtain the power of Kamen Rider. They have no obligation to fight."

If the situation has deteriorated to the point of being devastating and widespread suffering, even ordinary people might grit their teeth and step forward. But this doesn't depend on the efforts and sacrifices of some unfortunate individual. So naturally, they are only willing to try within a very narrow scope.

"After all, fighting is very painful, and you might die. You have to face monsters head-on and question your own conscience."

"No, isn't fighting a joyful thing, Master?"

"You're a martial arts idiot. Not everyone shares your desire to become stronger."

Fan Kang rolled his eyes at the guy and sighed again:

"In a sense, they are not even Kamen Riders."

"But haven't they already obtained the power of Kamen Rider from Kyubey...?"

Perhaps he heard a really funny joke; in any case, Fan Kang laughed.

He touched the spirit stone at his waist, pointed to the girl's crimson armor, and poked her cheek:

"What do you consider to define Kamen Rider? Is it the belt, the outfit, or the mask on that face?"

Without giving the girl a chance to answer, he directly asked and answered his own question.

He said this amidst laughter.

"neither."

……

……

Higashijima Tanzaburo enjoys festivals.

Although Kamen Rider is almost his entire life, it doesn't mean he doesn't have other hobbies. He enjoys attending festivals where everyone gathers together to sing and dance. These days are always full of joy, enough to make people temporarily forget their troubles.

Once in summer and once in autumn, these two simple festivals are enough to encompass all of a child's imagination about happiness. On these days, he can beg adults to buy him toys, snacks, and most importantly, new discs of the Kamen Riders.

The children who grew up can now access websites on their phones and computers to find and discover things they like, but for someone his age, the earliest memories of "heroes" go back to those pirated CDs that were neither original nor photocopied, and even the names and contents of the stickers could be wrong.

In short, he likes festivals, holidays, and vacations.

As dusk settled, the festival lights gradually illuminated the sky, and the aroma of takoyaki mingled with the sweetness of candied apples, weaving a warm net above the festival.

Higashijima Tanzaburo clutched the goldfish bag he had just bought. The red and white fish tails inside the plastic wrap brushed against his palm, reminding him of the one his sister had caught thirty years ago. The neon lanterns of the festival swayed overhead, casting fragments of his shadow onto the stone path.

"Uncle! The shooting booth has the latest Kuuga soft vinyl figures!"

Boys in yukatas laughed and bumped past him, the sound of their wooden clogs drowned out by the rhythm of the taiko drums. Higashijima touched the few crumpled bills in his pocket, and finally walked toward the shooting booth—he planned to buy a souvenir for the foreign boy who was somewhat to his liking.

The tremolo of a shamisen drifted from afar, and lanterns tied with red ribbons swayed in the evening breeze, like a string of glowing persimmons.

And the scream tore through the night in that instant.

The takoyaki griddle was overturned, and scalding hot batter splattered onto the bare legs of an innocent girl passing by. Dongdao saw a Shocker combatant, dressed in the black uniform that had accompanied him throughout his childhood, emerge from behind the palanquin, holding an unfamiliar weapon.

The fighters drove the crowd, chased after the crowd, and forced the crowd.

He was so surprised that he stood there stunned.

"Run away!"

The goldfish bag in my hand fell to the ground, and the moment the plastic film burst open, the red and white goldfish frantically thrashed their tails in a pool of blood.

In the overturned shooting booth, pirated Kamen Rider 1 discs were scattered all over the ground, and the V3, whose cover was mistakenly printed as a stag beetle, was curling up in the flames.

"Mommy...where is Mommy..."

A little girl in a goldfish-patterned yukata huddled among a pile of broken Daruma dolls, and the crowd began to riot and scream.

"Help...help!"

A girl in a yukata was dragged along by hooks, her wooden clogs scraping against the road with a screeching sound.

He should have moved, he should have taken action, but his legs were shaking, his hands were trembling, and he was sweating profusely from fear.

I've fantasized more than once about being captured and modified by the Shockers, then escaping to become a righteous locust-man... a Kamen Rider. Fighting the Shockers, becoming a cool version of myself, a powerful version of myself, a version of myself with a different life.

The reality was that when he saw the Shockers appear, he was so frightened that he couldn't move. They were the real deal, absolutely the real deal. Whether it was the unknown weapons or the combatants screaming and rampaging through the crowd, they were all genuine.

And he is a fake.

Unlike the many wonderful dreams he had in his imagination, he was not transformed into "justice" first. He was just a fake who had been daydreaming for many years and would be so frightened that he couldn't move when he saw the real Shocker.

Should I go? I'll die, I'll definitely die. The one in front of me is the real Shocker, and I'm just a disgusting old man who's been daydreaming for years. I'll definitely die. If I run away now, if I escape now, I can continue to live.

My knees started to tremble, and I could barely suppress the urge to run away.

The shelf tipped over in front of him, and something brushed past his ankle. It was just a plastic mask, lying face up in a puddle of yogurt, dirty and grimy. Its left eye was cracked, and its right eye shone with the iridescent light characteristic of cheap plastic. But he recognized the mask.

He recognized the mask.

"It's number one."

Dongdao knelt down, feeling that he wanted to hide here, but his hand unconsciously touched the edge of the mask.

Between the shelves, the shoka soldier's saw blade was pressed against the clerk's forehead.

"Help...help...escape..."

Are you calling for help or trying to save your own life? Make it clear...

Sweat dripped through his fingers, he could hear his teeth chattering, taste the rust seeping from his lips, and his knees felt like they were sinking deeper and deeper into ice water.

But when Shocker, wearing a black hood, turned around, he found himself already out there.

He probably wanted to take advantage of the moment when Shocker was hurting others to find an opportunity to escape. That must be it. That way, his chances of survival would be much greater. What's a dream worth anyway?

For no reason, in the very moment he was about to turn his back to Shocker and run away, he remembered a long, long time ago, on a deafening afternoon when a bootlegger had cut the V3 storyline into the No. 1 disc, and the boy, clutching a sweaty 500 yen coin, waited in the back alley of the convenience store until dusk.

"Masked...Knight..."

Hoarse shouts mixed with the clanging of metal echoed between the shelves.

Amidst the pungent dust rising from the shattered takoyaki stand's condiment jars, Higashijima throws a right punch amidst the swirling preservative powder. Beneath the mask, a glimpse of 1971 flashes through his vision: through the scratches of film, Hongo Takeshi raises his right hand to the setting sun.

The ugly middle-aged man, whose legs were trembling, hands were shaking, and sweat was pouring down his face, was so frightened he wanted to cry. Under the astonished gaze of even Shocker, who hadn't expected this, he put on a mask and threw a punch.

"Kamen Rider..."

He said.

"—Transform!"

Chapter Fifteen: Mortal's Iron Will (4K)

The Knights Council adjourned without reaching a consensus on how to deal with Shocker.

What others do is their business. Fan Kang only does what he thinks he should do, no matter how tiring, how much loss or suffering he will suffer in the eyes of others. Following the name "Bloodstained Void Self" comes "Sucked-out Void Self".

Humanity is on the verge of extinction, the world is on the verge of destruction, so it would be foolish to talk about so many gains and losses.