Solo Cultivating in Superhero Academy
Chapter 66: Dream team

Chapter 66: Dream team

Elius and his new team—Jiro the Sand Controller, Clint the Fire Bullet, Balkan the Bug Tamer, and Monkaar the Floater—walked shoulder to shoulder across the wide, dust-covered pavement of the city’s outskirts, moving in a loose, but strangely synchronized line.

The rule was simple: no flight outside designated air corridors.

So they walked.

Their shadows stretched long in the morning sun, the bright light casting shimmering glares off distant metal rooftops.

The city felt louder than before, more chaotic.

Horns blared from floating taxis.

Drone vendors zipped above the crowd, advertising instant weapon upgrades and low-tier dimensional rift keys.

Elius ignored all of it.

In the middle of the walk, Clint reached into his jacket and put on a pair of neon sunglasses that didn’t match anything he wore.

Monkaar adjusted the wrap around his sandals while floating an inch above the road, levitating slowly like a lazy jellyfish in a sea of asphalt.

Jiro said nothing, walking in a fluid, almost gliding motion, while Balkan kept his head down, quietly exuding the scent of old dirt and insect wings.

Eventually, they reached a squat, cement structure half-buried in dust and urban paint that looked futuristic to the eyes.

A glowing neon sign buzzed lazily above the door: F-RANK DIMENSIONAL RIFT ACCESS HUB.

Inside, the air was dry and stale.

The reception counter was manned by the same bored-looking employee from Elius’s first visit.

The man perked up when he saw Elius.

"You again?" he blinked, sitting straighter. "Didn’t expect to see you back so soon."

Then his eyes scanned the four behind Elius.

The man’s expression twisted slightly—confusion?

Disbelief?

Probably both.

They didn’t exactly look like Superheroes, they looked like kids and a beggar with his pet insects.

Jiro still had sand clinging to his sleeves. Clint chewed gum. Balkan’s shirt had holes. Monkaar... floated.

But he said nothing once Elius handed over his ID card.

The receptionist simply nodded and typed something into his cracked terminal, before gesturing toward the lift.

A robotic transport guide, humanoid in shape with chrome plating and outdated voice software, waited by the elevator.

The door hissed open.

The five of them squeezed in.

The ride down was silent.

Only the mechanical humming of the lift accompanied them, punctuated by the occasional creak as the old cables strained under the load.

As the doors opened again, the air changed.

No Rockson this time.

Instead, the underground hub that connected to dozens of dimensional rift platforms was flooded with people.

F-ranked superheroes of all shapes and types were gathered near the far end—dozens of them, maybe more.

The air buzzed with energy, tension, and excitement.

"What’s going on here?" Elius muttered.

He glanced to the side and stepped toward a short man with a cybernetic jaw and white boots. "I’m going to ask someone," Elius muttered and asked. "What’s with the crowd?"

The man turned and looked him up and down. Recognition flickered across his face.

"Oh, you don’t know?" he said, eyes wide. "There’s a huge event happening right now. One of the top F-Class squads from last semester, the Crater Knights, are about to enter a freshly-unexplored dimensional rift. And get this—they’re all peak-level F-Ranks! Every single one of them!"

The man’s voice grew louder as he gestured with wild excitement.

"They’ve been preparing for months, training with a D-Rank mentor. They got sponsors, gear enhancements, everything. Apparently, the dimensional rift showed up just last night. It’s raw. No data. No mapping. A virgin rift! Do you know what that means?"

Elius nodded slowly, but the man kept going.

"It means superhero credit. Massive gains. First clear bonuses. Contribution points. More importantly—reputation. You complete a dimensional rift like that, and your name gets printed in every Academy High newsletter. And that’s just the beginning.

"The system logs your name as the first explorer! Recruiters love that stuff! Gear stores give discounts. Sponsors might even offer contract deals."

The man leaned closer, whispering now. "There’s even rumors that a big hero company watches the first clear list to recruit new blood."

Elius listened intently. Everything the man said confirmed his own thoughts.

Unexplored dimensional rifts meant opportunity. More credit, more loot, but most importantly, more reputation. And if he earned enough recognition—enough buzz—he could push back against Radiant Man’s influence. It was the only leverage he had.

Radiant Man wouldn’t dare train someone being hailed as a future prodigy without consent.

And most of all...

Unexplored dimensional rifts weren’t yet monitored. Not by the Hero Association. Not by the Academy High system. And not by his father, Colt or the Radiant Man.

Elius let out a small smirk.

But before he could say anything else, someone pointed at him.

"Wait a second," a voice rang out. "Isn’t that the guy from the news? The one who defeated Lava Scissor yesterday?!"

The crowd went quiet for a second.

Then—chaos.

"Holy crap, it is him!"

"No way—that was a lie, right? That was just some fake news!"

"I thought Lava Scissor was going to be handled by the Crater Knights?"

"What the hell—he beat them to it?!"

"No! No! I heard the Crater Knights were prepping to take down Lava Scissor this weekend!"

"Yo, didn’t Lava Scissor roast three beginner teams? How did this guy even survive?!"

"He doesn’t even look that strong!"

"Shh—look at his team. They don’t even look like real supers..."

"The floating guy looks like he sells potions on the street."

"I SWEAR I saw the bug guy begging for bug repellent near the dorms."

"Wait—wasn’t that fire bullet guy the one who got detention for finger-blasting a vending machine?!"

"I can’t believe this! How come this guy gets a full team and a title just because he beat one villain?!"

"Luck! It’s always about luck!"

The uproar turned deafening.

People were shouting, whispering, even recording videos.

Elius didn’t flinch. He stood there in the middle of the storm, his arms folded, expression unreadable.

Let them bark.

Clint leaned over and whispered, he’s a little overwhelmed but he still managed to whisper, "You kinda famous, huh?"

Balkan scratched his head with scalp falling and muttered, "Didn’t know we joined a celebrity..."

Monkaar blinked slowly. "Fame is weightless, but it attracts gravity."

Jiro didn’t say anything. He just stared at the crowd, eyes sharp like wind-cut glass.

And then, right when the crowd seemed to hit peak madness—

A voice called from behind them.

"Hey!"

Elius turned.

The voice that had called out—sharp, accusatory—belonged to a young man in a star-spangled bodysuit. Red boots. Blue chest armor.

A shiny plastic-looking cape flapping stiffly behind him from an artificial breeze generator on his belt.

The rest of his group clustered behind him, each one trying too hard to mimic famous comic-book superheroes.

One had a paper-thin version of a metal mask over his eyes and arms way too big for his frame.

Another wore a black-and-gold tactical vest with the words "STEALTH JUGGERNAUT" sewn on it.

One girl had neon hair, sparkles glued under her eyes, and a glowing bow she kept posing with even when no one was looking. And the last member, a short guy with a blue mohawk and shoulder pads shaped like mini-jets, just bounced in place like he was auditioning for attention.

They marched toward Elius, puffed up with their budget cosplay pride.

"Hey!" Star-Spangled shouted again. "You’re Elius, right? The guy who beat Lava Scissor?"

Elius turned his head slowly, still calm, one hand resting loosely on his hip. His team—Jiro, Clint, Balkan, and Monkaar—watched the approaching group with a mix of boredom and vague interest.

The other group stopped a few feet away. Star-Spangled threw his hands up with an exaggerated grin.

"Man, that was awesome! Totally rad! That Lava Scissor guy? We’ve been tracking him for weeks. He was our quarry. But you? You went in and poof! Just like that! Gone!"

The girl with the sparkles nodded with fake enthusiasm. "So brave of you!"

Jet Shoulders added, "Yeah, totally epic. Super cool. Love your outfit, by the way. It’s got that whole... um... discount-delinquent vibe. Super edgy!"

Elius blinked slowly.

"Tell us, man," Star-Spangled said, stepping closer. "How did you beat him? Was it some sort of trick? A trap? Did you lure him into a vulnerable state and then—BAM—hit him with a surprise move?"

Clint raised an eyebrow. Balkan scratched the back of his neck. Monkaar let out a slow, ghostly yawn.

Elius tilted his head, eyes half-lidded. "Well... he tripped."

The group blinked. "Tripped?" Star-Spangled echoed.

"Yeah," Elius said, his voice flat. "He slipped on lava. Irony, I guess."

The sparkle girl squinted. "But... lava’s not really... slippery?"

"Unless it’s his own," Elius said smoothly. "Self-made lava has lower traction. Obviously."

Jet Shoulders leaned forward. "Wait, is that a thing?"

"Totally a thing," Elius nodded sagely. "Only real combatants know that."

Star-Spangled blinked again, but forced a laugh. "Ah-ha, right! Real combatants! Haha... Okay. But seriously, how did you really do it?"

"Fine," Elius shrugged. "I used my secret technique. It’s called ’Punch Very Hard While Screaming.’ Works 60% of the time."

The group’s smiles began to stiffen. A twitch. A shift in posture. Confusion seeping into frustration.

"You’re messing with us," Stealth Juggernaut muttered.

Elius pretended to look confused. "What makes you say that?"

"We respect you, man," Star-Spangled said, his voice harder now. "We’re asking you like professionals."

"And I’m answering," Elius said with a casual shrug.

"You’re just making fun of us."

"Only a little."

The silence afterward crackled like static. Jet Shoulders clenched his fists. Sparkle Girl narrowed her eyes. Stealth Juggernaut cracked his neck loudly on purpose, like he wanted to intimidate someone, anyone.

It almost looked like they were about to start something—tensions tightening like a pulled bowstring.

But Star-Spangled suddenly held up a hand. "No. We’re not doing this. Not here."

The others looked at him.

He stared directly at Elius, and asked through gritted teeth, "What are you even here for, huh? You just came to watch us do the dimensional rift we’ve been preparing for?"

Elius raised an eyebrow. "Do I know you?"

The words dropped like a brick.

A hushed ripple ran through the crowd around them.

Even Clint and Balkan blinked in surprise. Jiro exhaled quietly. Monkaar made a soft, oozing sound that might’ve been a laugh.

"You don’t know us?" Star-Spangled repeated, his voice strained. "We’re the Vanguard Justice Juniors."

"...Who?"

The crowd gasped. A few people choked back laughter. One guy covered his mouth to muffle a snort.

Star-Spangled’s face darkened like a storm cloud. His lip twitched.

He struggled to keep his composure. "Fine. Then tell me—what’s your team called?"

Elius glanced back lazily at his group, then looked back forward. "The Dream Team."

A stifled giggle exploded from somewhere in the crowd.

Clint scratched his chin, smirking.

"The Dream Team?" Sparkle Girl repeated. "Really?"

"Yup," Elius said. "We dream big."

"Is that a joke?" Stealth Juggernaut asked.

"It’s a fact," Elius said. "Like bugs dream of hives, bullets dream of targets, and clouds dream of floating."

Everyone blinked at that.

Even Monkaar tilted his head slightly, impressed.

"You sound like you think you’re better than us," Jet Shoulders said with a snarl.

"I am better than you," Elius replied, tone calm. "Cultivator, remember?"

He didn’t say it with arrogance. It came out natural, like he was stating the temperature. Like gravity. As if being a cultivator meant everything else was beneath him—and, to Elius, it was.

Star-Spangled bristled, his fingers twitching. But before he could say anything else, he suddenly pointed at Jiro.

"You," he said, shifting focus. "What’s your superhero name?"

Jiro stiffened.

The crowd turned to him, curious now.

Jiro hesitated. His hand clenched at his side. His eyes darted toward Elius.

Elius didn’t even turn to look at him. He didn’t need to. He stood there, posture lazy, unreadable—offering neither pressure nor permission. Just... silence.

After a few seconds, Jiro swallowed and said, voice low, "I’m... I’m not a superhero."

Star-Spangled blinked. "Huh?"

Jiro’s voice was quieter now. "I’m just... a sidekick."

And that single word detonated through the crowd like a shockwave.

Gasps. Murmurs. Even someone dropping their energy drink.

"A sidekick?!"

"What?!"

"No way!"

"Then what are they doing here?!"

Star-Spangled’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He looked between Elius and Jiro, baffled.

Elius finally cracked a small smile—just a hint of satisfaction—as whispers erupted all around them like wildfire.

"Do you know what’s even more baffling?"