Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 62: Searching

Chapter 62: Searching

In this superhero universe, sidekicks were a strange breed.

They were technically superhumans—people born with powers beyond the average—but barely.

Their abilities were weak, sometimes comically so. Some could manipulate light, but only enough to make a dim glow in their palms.

Others could run faster than normal, but not faster than a motorcycle.

There were those who could control elements—water, air, even fire—but in amounts so tiny they couldn’t even put out or start a campfire.

In the eyes of the world, sidekicks were the leftovers of hero society.

But there was a catch.

In the rules of existence that even the cosmic beings—those godlike beings in the Pantheon—had to obey.

Unlike normal humans, sidekicks could grow.

Just like Superheroes.

If they entered dungeons—those mysterious, dimensional rifts where power, danger, and mystery mingled—sidekicks could evolve.

Slowly, painfully, but definitely.

Some of the most legendary heroes of history had once been sidekicks who lucked into a great team or survived an impossible trial.

The problem?

Getting into a dungeon in the first place.

Superheroes got priority.

They were the ones on posters, with sponsors and fans and powers that could crush buildings or bend light.

The government and hero associations assigned dungeons based on power levels, approval ratings, and combat rankings.

Sidekicks?

They were left behind. At best, they’d get invited to tag along. At worst, they’d be forgotten entirely.

And that’s exactly why Elius was here.

He stepped quietly through the crowded plaza of the Sidekick Registration Center, his face partially hidden beneath a dull gray scarf and a low cap.

He wore a loose jacket that sagged off his frame, the kind you could find in second hand stores. Nothing about him stood out.

He preferred it that way.

Because Elius had a problem. Not just the political, psychological, or physical kind.

A cosmic problem.

Somewhere, deep in the chaotic cosmic hierarchy of ancient gods and interdimensional powers, there was a fire god.

A being whose domain spanned stars, suns, and volcanic realms.

Elius is now on the watchlist of this comic being that he was unknowingly offended so he could defeat the villain that his father sent.

Since the moment Elius killed Lava Scissor, a curse had now settled on him like a silent brand.

He knows its name. But he didn’t quite remember its purpose.

Still, he needed to be careful.

If I recruit a superhero and party with him, the spirit of the superhero might grow.

If that person becomes controlled by that Pantheon God or cosmic being, I would be done for.

Basically, if he empowers the wrong person, he might be helping the Pantheon build another servant. He clenched his fists. I can’t afford to be betrayed. If it happens, it better not be by someone too powerful to fight.

So Elius had made a decision.

He would recruit sidekicks. Weak ones. Ones who still had their humanity.

If he were going to build a party, he’d do it from scratch. That way, if any of them turned against him, he’d still have a chance to win. Most importantly, he would gain a powerful Martial Ability that wouldn’t be nerfed once he disbanded the party.

That’s a win-win for Elius.

He moved deeper into the plaza, passing food stalls and sidekick registration booths, until he heard laughter and music echoing from a side alley.

Elius turned, curious.

A large space had been cleared out between the rear buildings.

Neon lights hung from wire poles, someone had set up speakers blasting retro pop, and a group of young adults were moving in rhythm with the beat.

Not training. Not practicing.

Dancing.

Elius stopped, partially hidden by a pillar.

It wasn’t what he expected.

These people—these sidekicks—weren’t scrambling for attention, shoving applications into superhero hands or showing off desperate power displays.

They were... enjoying themselves.

A young woman with pastel blue hair was creating bubbles from her fingertips, floating them through the air like tiny jellyfish.

The others clapped and laughed as the bubbles popped in sync with the music.

Another guy spun on his heel, shooting small sparks from the soles of his shoes like a party trick.

One kid made glowing origami animals out of paper. They flapped their wings and danced above the crowd like real birds.

A girl stood in the middle, arms stretched wide, letting her shadow split into three different shapes that danced with her in unison.

Elius blinked under his cap.

"What... are they doing?" he muttered, unable to hide his confusion.

A voice answered beside him. "Playing."

He turned. A sidekick with a shaved head, wearing a simple blue shirt and fingerless gloves, smiled at him.

"They’re just playing, man. Showing off what they got before the music ends."

"But don’t they want to be chosen by a superhero?" Elius asked.

The man chuckled. "Hah... sure. Everyone wants to be chosen. But c’mon—look around. There are thousands of us. Tens of thousands. Maybe hundreds. Only a handful get picked every week. Most of us? We’re just wasting time, pretending like we got a shot."

He looked out at the dancing sidekicks. "So we hang out. Bond a bit. Share a few dumb tricks. Laugh before we go back to our normal lives. Working in shops. Delivering food. Babysitting mutants. Y’know, the usual."

Elius was silent.

So... that was it. That was why they were smiling. Not because they were hopeful.

Because they’d already given up.

These were the castoffs. The forgotten. People with the barest sliver of power in a world dominated by titans. They weren’t trying anymore. They were just living.

"Why don’t you stay?" the man asked. "Just for a bit. You might like it."

Elius hesitated. Then he nodded slowly.

He moved closer to the crowd and stood off to the side, still partially hidden, still wrapped in anonymity.

The music shifted to something slower, groovy. The atmosphere changed.

Someone turned a small patch of dirt into mud, then hardened it back into clay and made a tiny statue of a superhero—complete with a glowing cape.

Another girl made little threads of silver energy stretch between her fingers like a harp and played a quiet tune.

Two boys were doing cartwheels while their hands glowed blue, leaving behind streaks of sparkling light.

Someone juggled with invisible balls—only visible when they shimmered for a second as they passed overhead.

There was so much laughter. So much strange, useless magic. Beautiful, small things that would never win battles, never crack a dungeon, never earn a TV sponsorship.

But it felt real.

Human.

Then, Elius saw him.

A skinny kid, maybe eighteen. Wearing a cracked visor and oversized hoodie. He looked nervous, like he didn’t belong. But when the music hit a beat, he raised one hand—and a small swirl of sand rose from the ground.

It hovered around his index finger like a golden snake.

Twisting. Spinning.

A whisper of movement. Barely there.

But Elius’s breath caught.

The sand shimmered as it moved.

The boy didn’t even seem to notice him with shiny eyes.

He just smiled nervously and let the sand fall again, chuckling like it was nothing.

But Elius had other plans.

"This is it... An Earth type ability!"