"Attention, a robbery has occurred on XXXX-XXXXX-XXX street. The criminals are armed and extremely dangerous." I hear a voice of alarm on the radio that alarms me. In the distance, I see a hundred people slowly rotting in their lives. Preparing to jump from the eighth floor, I hear the sound of rubber wheels approaching the street beneath my feet. One robbery after another, I see and hear every day, and each one feels like a drop in the ocean. I see no point in trying to catch these criminals, but if I can help in any way, it is my duty to do so.
A whispering black something stirred as soon as I stood up straight before my disappearance from the roof. I held my gaze on the sky before the wind blew me away. This is the freedom I experience every day, as if forgetting that behind this power lies a man driven by society for his uniqueness.
Every day I see on social media how people treat me and my brothers and sisters by origin. I feel sorry to see them dying young and alone. I want to help them, but I'm just a pathetic drop in the ocean, unable to affect the tide. I am lucky, very lucky, especially compared to the rest. A little luck is not enough in my life, and without my decisive actions, that luck turns to dust that will never return to its form.
The fall was accompanied by the sound of wind and my reflection on office buildings. My gaze fell upon a black car of average market value—nothing remarkable, just a dull box among a thousand others. Tentacles stretched from my hand with a sticky sound as they touched the glass, and like a rope, I flew forward, hoping to catch up with the car carrying the robbers. My position shifted with each shot of tentacles from my hands, but the car was faster than my efforts, and by my calculations, it was going no less than 197 km/h, which is very fast and dangerous for an urban area.
"Attention, the criminals have turned onto the central street. Spikes are deployed, continue the chase." I heard a woman dispatcher trying to warn her colleagues. I am glad that the police and other law enforcement agencies are trying to stop them with their strength, without my involvement or that of other heroes. Following them, I caught myself thinking that this is some sort of game of good guys and bad guys, which was not far from the truth. This doesn't surprise me, and in just one and a half months of heroism, I realized what many heroes have not understood or have refused to understand throughout their careers. There is no white and black or even gray world; there are only the interests of people for whom this city and all its inhabitants are merely toys that can be replaced with others, more beautiful toys.
The car continued to roar with its engines, and just as I was about to shoot a tentacle directly at the car, it made a sharp right turn onto that very central street. This whole game of "catch the villain and gain fame" greatly irritated me. I had no intention of playing with my duty when lives of many people, quietly and peacefully enjoying their lives, were at stake. The tentacles were not yielding the desired results; I still couldn't catch the car despite having the advantage in the air. This proved that there is still room for growth, despite the acquired power. The power was indeed mighty, but without my proper control and will, it was ready to become a weapon of mass destruction, and the hero I was supposed to become was turning into a maniac.
I furrow my brows and was ready to jump, but I must control myself to avoid making a foolish move. I cut off the movement of the tentacle and switch to running along the walls, accelerating and jumping off them, using 35% to avoid impacting my body's hunger. I speed up and become faster and faster before telling myself to make a grand jump that shatters the glass beneath my feet with the force of my leap.
"Now!"
Siren wails filled the already loud megacity, where this noise got lost among the many sounds of the city. I play the role of a clown in a mask when I should be dealing with more serious matters, but not right now—there is a time for everything, and I will get to it.
Breaking away from the building, I spread my wings, speeding up even faster, and with each second, my vision realized that just a little more and I would reach my goal. I concealed my wings and, performing a somersault, gracefully landed on the roof, and I hear sounds coming from the car that do not please me.
"There are many people there, ram them faster!"
"Not on my night,"
I whispered, landing on the hood of the car and seeing the central street with many people, not realizing that only I could prevent their demise, I didn't hesitate. Four tentacles burst from my body and grabbed the car's wheels, ripping them off like pieces of plastic. The car began to brake, making a sound of metal that echoed throughout the street. The residents screamed, trying to escape the car's trajectory, and the tentacles that appeared behind grabbed a pole, trying to stop the car, but to my dismay, due to inertia, the two poles were uprooted as if they were weeds. Jumping over the car, I grabbed the trunk and with all my might tried to stop it, and with the help of the tentacles, I managed to stop the car, but the matter did not end there. In the next minute, police officers began shooting at me from their weapons, trying to take me down. I used a shield to shield myself from the bullets. All those pathetic attempts to stop me seemed trivial to me.
The fire stopped, and I hear their warnings after the shooting, which was quite amusing on their part.
"Silent Phantom, surrender immediately before we use more force."
"..." I ignored their words—they were useless in this situation. I stand there, and behind me is the car with the robbers I must neutralize, but the police with their orders are like a thorn in my side.
If they shoot first and think later, then suddenly heroes in their shining costumes appear, pompously scrutinizing me as prey, thanks to which they will gain the promised fame that almost every hero seeks.
My task is 95% complete, and now to finish it, I must either run away or fight. I stand on the central street under the lights of television cameras and onlookers who decided to watch me and see if I truly live up to what the media says. I lower my shields, finally meeting face to face with the heroes.
"Surrender without a fight, and I promise your punishment will be mitigated."
How funny it is to hear such things. I will go to prison anyway, and he talks about mitigation. I frown, hoping he'll understand my intentions, but just as he was, he remains a wooden statue. Well, I have no choice but to accept the fight.
"..." I remain silent, and he activates his quirk, shooting lasers from his eyes, trying to hit me. I instinctively dodge, trying to avoid his gaze. None of this plays to my advantage—what's the point if I will again read derogatory articles about how bad I am and what threat I pose to society?
With weak flashes, he tries to hit me with his beams, but all he accomplishes is shaking the air around me. Ready to flee, I see the street that can help me escape, but before that thought can settle in my mind, a long metallic spear embeds itself in the ground just an inch from my foot, piercing the asphalt like a toothpick in tofu.
I know who this is—the hero named "Primal," who only fights with primitive weapons. Clubs, spears, and a long knife tucked away. Yes, it's him, a clothing style that is unmistakable, with long black hair, a beard, and wrinkles on his face.
A third hero joined him, named "Beast," a shaggy figure with a massive mouth and teeth that could bite through a human neck. I am surrounded on all sides, and I have no way to escape—I must accept the fight, no matter how difficult it seems.
"FIRE!!" A barrage of bullets flies toward me along with lasers from that very hero. I use my shields to hide, and in the next second, I feel someone running toward me, and it's him. I hear the growl of "Beast," who tries to bite me with his teeth. I momentarily drop my shields, but my inner desire wants me to rip his animal mouth apart, yet I resist that urge and jump, trying not to become his toy.
I don't spend long in the air before I feel ropes with balls at their ends binding my hands and feet. I try to break free, but with each effort, they tighten even more. My gaze flits from one hero to another—are they trying to kill me or catch me?
"Quickly, put on the handcuffs and pack him into the car!" I hear from the police. I need to get out as soon as possible. Wait a second...
Eureka.
I wait for them to approach, and that same "Beast" also comes close. I explode with multiple tentacles and spikes, throwing them out for a moment and turning into a sea urchin with sharp spines. I break free, and "Primal" tries to get me with his spear, attempting to poke me. I'm tired of these games, and with one [Tentacle Attack], I throw him far away to keep him from interfering with my escape.
Suddenly, I feel someone holding me in a chokehold, trying to defeat me by suffocating me. I use my hands to break free from his hold, but with each passing second, rage fills every inch of my body, and unable to contain my anger, I scream, releasing a multitude of tentacles from my body. But in that state, something else emerged—I am furious and ready to tear apart anyone who dares to touch me.
"AAAAAA!!!" I screamed, activating [Rage mode], and I hear the voices of my desires asking for bread and spectacles. The shaggy hero was shocked by my scream, and like a beast, I am ready to charge into battle, not caring about the consequences.
My speed and strength increase. I pounce on the hero with my hands, delivering crushing blows that break the bones of unprepared individuals. Hearing the groans of pain, I revel in them and begin hitting even harder until he squeals like a pig. He scratches me with his claws and hits me with his massive arms, but I don't care—I feel no damage from his strikes. Using [Counter], an explosion erupts from my abdomen that he didn't expect, and pulling myself to him with [Tendril Pull], I knock him down, sitting on his stomach. He tries to resist, clawing at me with his hands, but two pairs of tentacles burst from my body, pinning him to the ground. I deliver several powerful blows to his face, blood splattering everywhere, and my plan to rip his jaw off becomes almost real. I grab his jaw with my hands, trying to tear it apart, but a treacherous laser in my back stops me from doing what I wanted.
Even more irritated, I look at my opponent, who trembles in fear before me. I have neutralized a hero stronger than him, and besides his laser, he has nothing. I smirk at his indecisiveness and watch him with my lenses, causing a shiver to run through his body.
"We need backup! Phantom is dangerous and poses a threat." I heard this, and along with it, I hear the cries of the residents standing at a distance, filming me with cameras. I am annoyed by this fact, but I must maintain my composure; otherwise, my fate will be worse than that of most villains.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Calming down, I dodge the lasers that emit an unpleasant hissing sound, but this hero overlooked one thing: you always have to keep moving, not stand still.
"Come here!" A long tentacle shot toward him, grabbing him by the throat. Pulling him close, I squeezed his throat with my hand, preventing oxygen from reaching his lungs. He tries to resist me, looking at me, but all he can do is make pathetic attempts to break free from my grip, and from his throat, I hear something I never expected to hear from heroes.
"P..please spare me."
"..." I continue to remain silent, and he surrenders, which further infuriates me. Unable to contain my anger, I grab his leg and throw him into the nearest car with all my strength, hearing a couple of bones break from a distance.
Slowly, I begin to calm down, feeling the rage leave my body. My mind has been trying to detoxify the poison of anger all this time. I can't wait to be arrested; I must run. I ran toward the citizens of this city, and when they saw my gaze, they were scared and began to flee as I rushed toward them. These are the very people who said that the peculiar are nobody, and now, when they see me, the peculiar one with power, they fear me and run away, screaming that I am a monster made of pure darkness. How disgusting it is to see such people. And these are the people I was supposed to protect? Who spit on me at the sight? If I did the same to them, not helping them, I would become a villain in their eyes. Even my heroic deeds are considered boasting and a desire to prove something to someone.
Yes, I am proving to myself that I can help people despite the hatred I feel toward them. I promised my mother that I would fulfill my dream of becoming a hero. I am very sorry that I cannot fully realize my dream, but I will do it for her and for Nejire.
The tentacles grabbed the facade of a skyscraper, and using my speed, I begin to run swiftly, trying to avoid them. Following the call of my heart and the freedom I want to experience once more, I land on a roof. Grabbing the edges of the roof, I stretch myself like a slingshot, trying to fly away from this chaos with all my strength.
I shot off and felt the taste of freedom in every inch of my body, enjoying the rush of wind and the swift descent, spreading my wings like a squirrel, soaring into the air, continuing to fly and tearing through the air with my body.
My goal is not only to hunt down criminals at night but also to track one of the many bases of the Miyamoto family. I have a grudge against them for how they treat innocent people. I have shown them what I am capable of, but my efforts are just a light slap that can be quickly recovered from, and I am not willing to let this continue for long.
My current goal is to reach the shadow broker and learn the locations of these scum who dared to take the lives of hundreds of people, and for what?
For their whims?
It is disgusting to know that this gift, which should serve everyone for the common good, is becoming a tool for trafficking or selling hundreds of people.
"We will destroy them," my friend whispered, who accompanies me. Allowing himself to be used, he also uses my body, thus surviving at my expense. A mutually beneficial deal for which I am grateful to fate.
I soared in the air, spreading my wings, enjoying the feeling of freedom, but my mind was filled with thoughts. The shadow broker—who holds information about the criminal world—is the next link in my investigation chain. I knew the broker was not an ordinary person. He is not a villain in the classical sense, but he is also not a friend. He plays both sides, profiting from information, and if he sells the data about the Miyamoto family bases, it will definitely not be for pretty words.
The night air was fresh, and the cool wind hit my face as I, like a bat, glided between the skyscrapers, leveling out and watching the streets below. The city shone with the lights of advertisements and the headlights of cars, but even in that light, I saw the darkness hidden in alleys and behind closed doors.
I continue to rise higher and higher, enjoying my elusiveness once again. Spreading my wings, I see that part of the city I despise—the one filled with darkness, gutters, and the smell of hopelessness, which can be characterized as:
"Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."
The darkness and dread at night lend this sense of hopelessness a special atmosphere, for everything belongs to one man or a group of people who control this place. Syringes litter the ground, and graffiti on the walls are desperate attempts by people seeking something bright in their lives. I dread to think what these people endure for whom this place is the only home. I see gazes that burn through me, but seeing my mask, they do not dare to approach me for help or to rob me. I am tired of seeing so many people look at me with contempt or pity. The slums that surround me are covered in mold, and nothing remains except despair and filth that has clung to these places. Thieves and recidivists are common in these areas, and I can do nothing about it. This is an ecosystem that has firmly attached itself to these places, and if I catch one, others, even more deranged, appear, for whom human life is just a game and flesh for pleasure. Choices and questions arise before me, such as choosing the greater evil or the lesser, and what can I do here so that people do not fear to walk the streets?
My thoughts were interrupted when I saw the shadow broker's hideout. As always, I hear screams and cries and pleas for forgiveness and a chance. By associating with this man, everyone must realize that there is no turning back, but people, even knowing there is a dangerous animal, still go to test their luck. Either they are so brave or so foolish that they do not understand the consequences of their choices, but I am not like that. I need him as an informant and trader; in other respects, he is a vile and greedy man ready to sell his own kin for profit. Is it fair to kill this man or send him to prison?
He has too many connections. Even if I hand him over to justice, he will still come out unscathed, having spent not even an hour there, and upon his release, he will not leave me in peace. Kill him? What then? Someone else will take his place. If I want to destroy him, I must fight all the people who stand behind this. The question arises: do I have enough strength to defeat them all and challenge an army of heroes if they stand in my way?
No. For now, I am powerless. Alone, I am insignificant; I need to become stronger and smarter. But how long will that take? A month? Six months? A year? Or eternity?
I understand that if I challenge them, they will try to reach Izuku Midoriya and his closest friends. Nothing better will come to their minds than to strike at the most painful spot. I must find a way to defeat everyone who stands in my way."
I continue to walk through the musty and old space of the warehouse. Hundreds of units of weapons and goons watch me with hungry eyes, ready to tear me apart at any moment, just waiting for the command. As I pass through numerous damaged concrete pillars, I feel their gaze – from small thugs to massive criminals, compared to whom I seem like just a small child.
Step by step, I move toward my goal — the dealer who can get practically anything within reason. Two enormous men in stylish suits and glasses stand in front of his office door. Their looks make it clear that I am an unwanted guest in their eyes, but against the will of their boss, they have no substantial arguments to stop me.
My appearance does not inspire trust, and perhaps that's for the best. After a few seconds, under the watchful eyes of the guards, they stare at me for a moment before I hear one of them utter a vague and harsh voice that disrupts the silence.
"Come in."
I snorted in response, irritating them. They swallowed hard, although they were ready to rip me apart like a British flag. I dared not go against them; they were still needed as an informational resource, or else it would be difficult for me to stand against them empty-handed.
"Look who has come to visit us. It's Phantom himself. What brings you here?" His gaze, full of excitement, met my white lenses, and just as I stepped forward, his assistant shot me a disapproving look.
Silently, I approached his desk, narrowing my white lenses and looking him in the face. I see a scar above his left eye and a well-groomed appearance that does not match the atmosphere of this building and the territory under his control.
"Did you come to see me?" My silence continued under the watchful gaze of his henchman, but after taking a breath, I finally spoke.
"I need information about the whereabouts of the Miyamoto family's underground bases." He looked at me with a frown, his brown eyes studying me before he smirked.
"Why do you think I have such information?" He toys with me, teasing with his antics, but I don't care what he thinks of me. I came for information, not for his games.
"From your own words, you can get anything." I feel anger rising but do not show it. My inner voice whispers that he is just a child in an adult's body, but I suppress any unreasonable behavior on my part.
"That's true." The shadow broker smirked, leaning back in his chair. His fingers tapped on the desk, as if he were enjoying the moment.
"Well, well, Phantom, you know that information doesn't come for free. It costs money. Or... something else that you can offer." I clenched my fists, feeling the tendrils beneath my skin begin to stir, ready to burst out.
"Don't play with me, Broker." He raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.
"Jokes? Oh, no, I'm quite serious. You know how this works. Nothing personal, just business."
"Business?" I stepped closer to the desk, my voice becoming harsher.
"You sell information that helps criminals kill." The Broker laughed, but a shadow of irritation flickered in his eyes.
"Oh, how noble of you. But you know, Phantom, the world isn't black and white. You understand that, or else you wouldn't have come to me."
"..." I growled, feeling my anger rise within me.
"And if you think you can just joke around, you're mistaken." He leaned forward, his smile widening.
"Oh, threats? I like it when you're angry. It makes you… alive. But you know, I'm not someone you can intimidate."
"Try me," I challenged him, my body tense and ready for action.
"Do you think your guards will stop me?" The Broker pondered for a moment, then sighed as if giving in.
"Alright, alright, you win. But you know, Phantom, you're too serious. You need to learn to relax. Life is a game, and you're playing like it's a war."
"For me, it's war," I replied, not averting my gaze.
"And if you're not on my side, then you're on the side of those who are destroying this city." He shook his head, as if disappointed.
"You're too idealistic. But fine, I'll give you what you want. Just remember, Phantom, debts must be repaid. And I will remind you of that."
"Speak," I demanded, ignoring his threats.
The Broker pulled a small flash drive from his desk drawer and tossed it onto the table.
"Here. Everything you need is here. But, Phantom, be careful. The Miyamoto family is not someone to joke with. They will destroy you if you're not careful." I grabbed the flash drive, and the tendrils consumed it in my body like an immaterial inventory.
"That's my risk. Thanks for the information." He smirked again, leaning back in his chair.
"Anytime. And, Phantom, if you survive, feel free to drop by again. I enjoy talking to you. You're… an interesting client." I turned to leave, not acknowledging him with a response. The guards let me pass, but their gazes suggested they were ready to pounce on me at any moment.
I exited the building, feeling the cold night air enveloping me. My mind was occupied with thoughts of what awaited me ahead. The Miyamoto family was dangerous, and I knew this would not be just a skirmish. This would be war. But I was ready. I had to be ready.
I ran across the rooftops and soared into the sky, leaving the slums and their darkness behind. Ahead of me awaited a battle, and I knew I had to win. For myself. For the city. For those who could no longer fight.
I needed to get home and go to sleep; otherwise, hunger would start to take control. But while continuing to jump across the rooftops, I heard a plea for help. One of the many noises of this city, and I heard it, but it was different from the others, as if fate itself was calling me to this place. I headed toward the source of the noise, no matter how much I wanted to resist.
Breaking through dozens of monotonous rooftops, I found everything rather dull. Gray roofs with a water tower and piles of trash that reeked of decay and neglect — none of this is shown in the media. Why ruin the whole beautiful picture of a city filled with heroes, portraying what true heroism is while advertising their products?
"How naive and foolish I was back then."
"Perhaps I can change something?"
The night, like a siren, leads me to the cries and pleas for help. The tendrils fly from my hands, already moving on autopilot. I've become so accustomed to this over the past month and a half that I can't imagine my alternate self without it. How I get used to the good that I forget all the bad, or does it knock on my door like Katsuki?
Finally, I found the source of the noise, and, as usual, a powerful figure threatens an ordinary citizen, using his size.
"Not a single hero will flinch to stop this crime?" The question went unanswered; even my friend, who always commented on everything, suspiciously fell silent, unable to find an argument for my question.
A person with the traits of a gecko was pinned against the wall, surrounded by several men holding weapons and guns. They were all dressed in black attire. To me, it looked quite ridiculous, even amusing, seeing them all dressed like thugs from some cheap crime series, which made me smile for a moment.
I watched to see if he could defend himself or if he would beg for the heroes' help. I was very curious about how it would all unfold; I just needed some popcorn and soda for the spectacle, but I wouldn't let the situation escalate to a critical point.
"Leave me alone, or…" Hugging a large sports bag in his hand, the gecko-haired guy refused to give it to them. Looking at him, the robbers smirked and teased the guy despite his efforts.
"Or what? Forget it, guys like you have nothing to hold a large sum of money." The robber smirked, holding a knife. The gecko guy kept stepping back until he was pressed against the wall.
"You don't understand, this is the last thing left from my grandmother." The robbers approached him, surrounding him from all sides. The scales on his face twitched from stress, and in fear, the guy hugged the bag tightly, refusing to give them the last thing he had.
"Even better. It'll hurt you twice as much." Playfully smirking, the robber forcefully grabbed the bag with money from him, pointing a gun at him. The scales twitched, but with his hands raised, the gecko guy trembled; he wasn't afraid of them, but rather looked at them with anger, trying to figure out how to defeat them.
"How do you plan to defeat us with that fierce look?" The third one added, and for a moment it seemed he had resigned himself to his fate until the gecko guy knocked the gun out of the robber's hand.
"I said, give me back the money!" Yelling at the top of his lungs, the gecko guy tried to bite the robber's hand, but the knife pressed against his throat quickly cooled his fervor.
"Let's see if there's anything behind those scales." I see that he is not as simple as he seems, but four against one is an unfair fight, and I need to intervene before it's too late.
Shooting a tendril toward the knife, I grabbed the robber's wrist, not allowing him to harm the gecko guy, who needed my help.
All eyes shifted to the wall from where a dark something was flowing. I catch their gazes, and standing in the shadows, I finally step into the dimly lit alley. Upon seeing me, none of them flinched, except for the gecko guy, and what I hear next sounds like phrases ripped from low-quality thrillers.
"What are you all standing there like idiots? Shoot him!" As if on cue, bullets flew toward me, but thanks to my agility and skill, I gracefully and calmly dodged the bullets, weaving like a ballerina in her prime, which made me smile for a second. The hostage was still in their hands, and notably, he was scared; his eyes trembled, and his hands were raised as if he were being aimed at by a gun.
"Get out of here, or I'll cut this lizard's throat." The knife pressed against his neck, blood pouring out, and I had no intention of leaving here with a body bag. I needed to think of something to lower their vigilance.
I pointed to the ground, encouraging him to look down so that the hostage could try to escape without my help if he hadn't lost his senses in fear.
"Did you see your feet?" He bit on my bait; two seconds was enough for the lizard to bite the robber's hand and break free.
"Damn lizard, I'll make a cutlet out of you!!" The cliché villain shouted, groaning in pain. Finally, unable to hold back, I used [Symbiote:Yank], grabbing their heads with my tendrils and throwing them to the ground with a single strong motion, hearing their groans of pain. That wasn't enough; I needed to make sure they posed no threat. I grabbed one of them with a tendril and held him against the wall, looking into his eyes. He tried to resist, but his efforts were futile against me.
"Who are you working for, and why did you decide to rob this person?" In my rough and threatening tone, I asked him, but he hesitated to respond. As I broke his index finger, he screamed in pain and finally answered me, trembling slightly.
"This lizard has money; we don't work for anyone." He stated, and I realized that these were just ordinary thieves profiting from stealing money by any means.
I exhaled, and before throwing him into the dumpster, I told him something he would never forget.
"If I see you stealing money from people, deceiving them, the next time you'll wake up in the morgue." Using my tendrils, I tossed him toward the dumpster, knocking him out. Shifting my gaze from him to the other henchmen and the victim, I realized that my job was done.
I turned my gaze to the gecko guy. He was still clutching his bag, looking at me with a mixture of horror and admiration.
"Y-you… You saved me…"
I turned away and was about to leave, but his anxious voice stopped me. He looked at me with a mix of awe and fear. My friend, having spent all this time with me, began to understand people's intentions, though not perfectly. For a creature that has lived in my body for a month and a half, that's quite impressive.
"I wanted to thank you. Thank you so much, sir." I'm not used to hearing gratitude directed at me, and instead of saying "you're welcome," I merely grunt in response, realizing that our paths would not cross again.
"Wait, sir, can I ask you something?" The past haunts me even after I've become a hero. The same atmosphere as when I was saved and betrayed by ALLMIGHT, but why is this happening twice?
I could ignore his concerns and leave, but I don't want to be hypocritical like ALLMIGHT or self-centered like Katsuki. I hesitate to respond to his question and simply turn my head to meet his gaze.
My gaze is fixed on his appearance, and apparently, he is not hostile toward me – green scales, purple hair, white sneakers with a white hoodie and black jacket. I quickly assess him and exhale. I didn't want to talk to him, but my conscience and common sense urged me to engage.
"What's in the bag?" I ask, looking at his expression, which showed confusion, but after a second, the emotion shifted to calmness.
"It contains the money from my grandmother's inheritance. These robbers tracked me and where I live, and they tried to extort money from me, but I fled from home and ended up here." I continue to observe him and his expressions. My alien friend detected no lies, and even I noticed his truth from his expression. He wasn't lying, but for some unknown reason, he lowered his head, unable to meet my gaze.
Why does everything unfold like that day on the rooftop with ALLMIGHT?
"What do you want?" I replied gruffly, not caring about his problems. He squirmed and couldn't respond clearly, muttering to himself before I began walking toward the alley exit. Everything felt too suspiciously similar; is fate mocking me?
"I need your help." He quickly responded before pouring out everything he had accumulated over this time. I stopped, and hearing his exhale, I listened to him, unable to refuse.
"I want to fulfill my grandmother's last wish and build a shelter for everyone in need of food and shelter." I was shocked by this guy's determination and surprised that a 20-year-old was asking for help from a kid who was not yet 15. His wish was noble, but I doubted his intentions were pure.
"My grandmother's wish was to open a shelter for everyone, not just for gheteromorphs. Although I understand this sounds too altruistic, like something out of hero movies, I really want to do this." His chest rose and fell, trying to calm his nerves, but I still looked at him skeptically, listening to my instincts. I wanted to hear everything he had to say.
"I need your protection. I've seen how you fight for justice without caring about fame or money." He understands my ideals, but why did he think I had no interests of my own?
"Almost right, but I have my own interests. Don't think I'll go help everyone indiscriminately just because it's the right thing to do." In a rough manner, I nearly crushed his hope for good, but I'm not like him, giving a chance to this lizard person, whoever he may be.
"I understand you. There are people who don't want that. I bought the land and hired builders for the construction, but someone is interfering with me." I listen to him, crossing my arms over my chest. His voice trembled, but I could hear a faint whisper of hope. Inside, I was battling conflicting feelings. I didn't want to get involved in someone else's problems, especially when I had a goal to end human trafficking from the Miyamoto family.
"And what do you want from me?"
"I'm not a bodyguard, and I don't have time to play the role of one." He didn't flinch—on the contrary, he became even more persistent, reinforcing his determination to fulfill his grandmother's final wish.
He sighed heavily but didn't give up.
"I'm not asking you to be my bodyguard. I just... I need protection for the construction site. Someone keeps threatening the workers, breaking equipment, setting materials on fire. I've already gone to the police, but they do nothing—they say it's not their priority. The heroes… they just laughed. Said they had more important things to do than protect some lizard."
I felt his anger boiling inside. He knew what it meant to be rejected, to be nothing in the eyes of those who were supposed to help. His fingers clenched into fists, and even I could sense the threat emanating from him. The tendrils beneath my skin stirred, ready to burst forth in defense.
"I apologize for my lack of restraint. My name is Iguchi Shuichi, and I keep suffering losses because of these criminals. I'm constantly working and can't catch them myself."
In utter despair, he sank to the ground, clutching his head. I genuinely felt sorry for Iguchi—he just wanted to fulfill his loved one's wish.
"Don't lose hope. Tell me, have you crossed paths with anyone or made enemies?" I asked, a hint of concern in my voice.
Iguchi waved his hands dismissively and confidently declared,
"No, I haven't crossed anyone. I manage a furniture factory—everything is legal and by the book. I declare my income and have no involvement in anything shady."
Judging by his tone, he wasn't lying. Looking into his reptilian eyes, I found no trace of deception.
"I see. Show me the address, and I'll try to figure out who's behind this." I replied, meeting the gaze of a man who, just moments ago, had feared for his life.
"Unfortunately, they operate during the daytime. I tried catching them at night eight times, but no one was ever there."
These criminals were striking in broad daylight, doing everything they could to prevent the construction of this shelter. I sighed deeply—daytime would make my task significantly harder, and the risk of being caught would increase exponentially.
"Show me the address."
He pulled a folded paper from his pocket. As soon as I opened it, I saw an image of a massive, well-designed building with its own territory and detailed layout.
"Not bad," I muttered to myself, while my inner symbiote whispered,
"This is the perfect chance to gain influence. Don't waste this opportunity, Izuku. We can secure an ally, gain the support of heteromorphs. It will strengthen our position."
The opportunity was tempting, but the risks were equally great. I had to decide—gain influence but at the cost of my own safety.
"I won't promise I'll find them, but I'll do my best," I replied, noticing the gratitude on his face.
"Thank you. In honor of your help, I'll name the shelter after you."
I didn't feel pleased at the thought of my alias being used. I remembered Takeshi—he had dreamed of becoming a hero. He didn't deserve a death by starvation. Let his name at least stand for something—safety, nourishment for others.
"Thank you, Shuichi. I don't like my hero name. Name the shelter after Takeshi instead."
He gave me a puzzled look before nodding. Then, he extended his hand for a handshake.
"Maybe fate brought me here. I'm really grateful to you."
Shaking his hand, curiosity got the better of me.
"Where will you go? They know your home address."
He smiled broadly, as if trusting me completely.
"I'll be staying with my mother for a while, so don't worry about me."
Under my mask, I smirked slightly, sensing no immediate danger. Before leaving, I quietly said,
"Sayonara."
As I disappeared from his sight, I reflected. Life presents strange opportunities, and that's what makes it fascinating. I wonder—if I had remained Quirkless, would I have achieved the same results?
Despite 1.5 months of progress, my development has been painfully slow. I have only 1.3 years left until UA. Can I destroy at least one crime syndicate in such a short time?
Standing on the edge of a skyscraper, I gaze at the cityscape—tall buildings with flawless glass, not a single stain. There is no soul in these massive human hives. But who am I to judge those who work in them?
Yaoyorozu Corporation—one of the city's largest monopolies, practically a flawless company with no known enemies. But I don't know the whole truth about its leader or those who operate behind closed doors.
I need to gain influence quickly. Without it, I'm nothing more than Izuku Midoriya in a mask.
Standing on the edge, I finally let go and leap, plummeting like a stone into the bottomless ocean below.
Like a comet crashing toward the earth, I recall my brightest memories. A question from my childhood resurfaces, and I smile to myself.
"I am a spectacular hero!!" I shout across the streets, gripping onto a building.
I will never tire of this feeling of flight, this freedom I experience every time I soar through the city.
"Your flying days are numbered, show-off," a voice sneers.
Completely unaware, Izuku had no idea that, with every passing day, he was signing his own death warrant at the hands of the country's best sniper.
Moving swiftly through the city, dodging behind massive facades, he remained oblivious to the crosshairs trained on him.
"Fuck," she cursed when her target vanished from her rifle's scope.
"Dead or alive, you're coming with me."
A/N Write in the comments whether I should improve the vigilante format or not. Or is it better to keep the old format?