Ch219- Impact!

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The impact of the Creation Pantheon Agency's opening ceremony echoed beyond the boundaries of Musutafu, as news channels across Japan and around the world broadcasted the event. Reporters were quick to offer their immediate reactions, a flurry of excitement and curiosity fueling their comments.

In a bustling newsroom, a seasoned reporter turned to the camera, his face a mask of professional curiosity. "The formation of the Creation Pantheon Agency is a turning point in our Hero history. They house not only our nation's finest, but also the acclaimed Heroine from Egypt, Sahar," he remarked, gesturing to the screen behind him that showcased the iconic image of the agency's emblem against the skyline.

A news analyst on another channel chimed in, "The presence of such a diverse and robust team raises expectations. Their ideals of unity and shared responsibility resonate powerfully."

The country was abuzz with anticipation and intrigue. Social media exploded with posts and comments about the newly formed agency. Supporters expressed their enthusiasm, the hashtag #CreationPantheonAgency trending worldwide within minutes. Conversations buzzed in cafes, classrooms, and living rooms, reflecting the undeniable impact of this new development.

The press, not one to be left behind, took this opportunity to engage with citizens, gauging their reactions and capturing their thoughts.

In one interview, a woman gripping her toddler said with a hopeful smile, "I believe in them. Seeing All Might and Sahar together, along with the others... It gives me hope."

A young man, his voice confident and strong, echoed her sentiments. "They stand for us, for our dreams and safety. I can't wait to see what they'll achieve."

A teen with stars in her eyes added, "They're incredible! Did you see how cool Mirko was? Or the way Sahar spoke? They're not just heroes; they're role models!"

In his newly claimed office of presidency, Bakin, the recently elected Prime Minister of Japan, sighed heavily as he watched the news. The inaugural ceremony of the Creation Pantheon Agency played out across the multiple screens of his office, casting an eerie glow on his face. The high-backed chair he sat in was less of a seat of power and more of a constant reminder of the weight of responsibilities thrust upon him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. A silent prayer for strength escaped his lips, drowned by the echo of the news broadcaster's voice in the expansive room.

The public was buzzing with excitement, but for Bakin, it only served as a stark reminder of the tangled web of politics and heroism. His eyes flickered back to the screen as he muttered, "Quite the spectacle."

Bakin's personal aide, a woman named Inoue, entered the room. "Sir," she began, her tone business-like, "Your thoughts on the ceremony?"

"Charismatic," he admitted, drumming his fingers on the desktop. "But the true test of their mettle is yet to come. Public sentiment is fickle."

Inoue nodded. "Indeed, sir. Will there be an official statement from your office about the Agency?"

Bakin pondered over it for a moment before replying, "Draft something neutral but supportive. We don't want to seem indifferent."

The phone on his desk buzzed, a new call lighting up the screen. It was a call from an unknown number, but Bakin didn't need to guess who it was from. There was only one group who would reach out at this time.

He looked at his assistant, silently ushering her outside. As Inoue left, he picked up the phone, pressing it against his ear.

"Bakin," an old man's voice echoed through the line, each syllable soaked in malevolence. "Find a way to shut down that agency. We cannot let it exist."

The words hung heavily in the air, like a chilling winter breeze. The voice belonged to a member of the Council of I-Island, an organization known for their animosity towards the unification and empowerment of heroes.

Bakin's heart pounded in his chest, but he remained silent, trying to gather his thoughts. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples.

"Speak, Bakin!" the old man barked, impatience coating his words.

"I understand the urgency, sir," Bakin finally replied, choosing his words carefully. "But we must consider the public sentiment. The Creation Pantheon Agency has quickly gained significant public support. All Might and Sahar stand at its helm. Any premature action could backfire."

There was silence on the other end of the line, thick and tense.

"Figure it out, Bakin," the old man growled, his voice a stark reminder of the precarious situation Bakin found himself in. "Do not forget who placed you where you are now."

With that, the line went dead. Bakin placed the phone back on the receiver, staring blankly at the screens before him. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Bakin had always been ambitious, craving the influence and power that came with the presidency. It was Mokami who had recognized his aspirations and offered him a way to fulfill them. He had asked Bakin to serve as a double agent in return. The lawyer, impressed by Mokami's charisma, had accepted.

Yet when Mokami needed him in the first incident, Bakin had refused to help. The newly appointed president had felt such a significant move would attract unwanted attention. This decision had created a rift between them, leaving Bakin in a precarious position.

Now, he was forced to tread carefully, balancing the interests of a dangerous organization and the good of the public. He knew better than to underestimate Mokami. Bakin also understood the weight his role held in the society that had just begun to see the dawn of a new era with the Creation Pantheon Agency.

Closing his eyes, Bakin took a deep breath. His mind raced, conjuring up strategies and counter-strategies, repercussions, and consequences. He was walking a tightrope. One misstep could be his undoing. He needed to navigate this delicate situation with utmost caution.

His gaze returned to the screens, the images of the Creation Pantheon Agency's emblem burning into his mind. Behind the grandeur of that symbol, he saw the faces of those who supported it – the public who had found new hope, the heroes who had pledged to protect, and Mokami, who silently observed it all.

"Yes," Bakin muttered to himself, "The real test begins now."

Bakin was a man in the shadows, fighting a war on multiple fronts. His journey ahead was uncertain, and his loyalties divided. But for now, he had a role to play, a delicate balance to maintain. Only time would tell which side he would eventually lean towards.

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