Choice does not come without consequences.
Sitting in his luxurious office, a man in an elegant tuxedo immersed himself in silence, looking at the screen of his computer. His activities did not go unnoticed: hundreds of complaints, lawsuits, and death threats from ruthless individuals. Glancing at the papers and seeing fines, he smiled, realizing that not a single penny would reach their pockets.
"Idiots." Shaking his head with a smile, Destro threw all the complaints into the nearest trash bin. Leaning back in his chair, he placed his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and enjoying the silence, while the paperwork was handled by accountants and lawyers. Out of curiosity, he picked up a couple of papers, but they evoked nothing but laughter.
The pleasure of silence lasted only ten minutes until his peace was disrupted by the ringing phone on his smoothly polished desk, crafted by the best designers in the city. The smooth, dark brown texture of the desk looked elegant and rich in every sense of the word.
Reluctantly, he held the phone to his ear, listening to the alluring voice of his secretary.
"Rikiya-san, you have a guest." Surprised by the late visit, Destro became interested and opened his computer, seeing a woman around twenty-five, dressed in a white sweater, with a beige blazer over it, black pants, and a pair of elegant black heels.
The sight of this woman did not surprise Destro, as, being a public figure, he had hundreds of beautiful ladies at his disposal. Her appearance did not attract much attention, but he knew who she was. Under her black wig, a strand of purple hair caught his eye, one he could never mistake.
Apart from his public life, he led a completely different existence that no one had seen. Behind the backs of his followers, he collaborated with many influential families that had integrated into Japanese society. Often, many of them engaged in criminal machinations. He was familiar with this, even though most of his assets were legal under the scrutiny of the tax authorities; he also had assets in the underground world for diversification. If he could not develop openly, he could always retreat into the shadows, collaborating openly with many people, including politicians, businessmen, scientists, killers, criminals, marauders, and heads of criminal organizations.
In one of his deals, he saw a woman with purple hair and an elegant figure, which she often concealed. Her quirk was also unique — "rifle," allowing her to form a gun from both hands, capable of shooting over great distances if aimed well. Among criminals, she was as dangerous as a devil, as the speed of her bullets made of hair was so high that it reached 1200 meters per second, or 4026 miles per hour. She was not a hero; after all, why would a killer want to be a hero? In criminal circles, she became a highly effective hired assassin. No one knew her past, and for many, she was a mystery that they tried to solve, but those who approached her and dug into her past often ended up dead due to their curiosity.
"Let her in and don't forget to put the bracelet on her." The secretary, unaware of who stood before her, obediently fulfilled her boss's request.
"Here's your pass, and put on this bracelet." Nagant raised an eyebrow, not understanding what this was about. The bounty hunter extended her hand for the bracelet. Once it was secured on her wrist, she felt a slight pain; it was immediately clear that this bracelet suppressed her quirk.
"17th floor, door opposite." Smiling at her, he continued sorting through documents. Nagant kept her gaze on him before heading to the elevator.
"Is it really necessary to be so concerned about security?" Nagant thought skeptically before entering the white elevator with black lines. During the ascent, she tried to remove the bracelet but regretted it, as it was firmly attached to her wrist.
"Resourceful." The door opened, and, slightly shocked at the absurdity of entering his office, she knocked. The 17th floor, with only one door, elicited a strange reaction from Nagant.
The door opened by itself when the bracelet on her wrist made a sound. Nagant entered the office, and to her surprise, besides his desk and panoramic windows, there was nothing else.
"Welcome to my domain, Nagant, or is it more familiar to call you Kaina?" In a self-assured manner, he scanned her with a sharp gaze, assessing her. After numerous encounters with many people, Destro could determine how they stood and whether they were tense. To his surprise, Nagant was as calm as a python, expressing nothing but skepticism.
"As you wish, Rikiya." Displaying her feminine manners, she adopted the persona of a woman rather than a cold-blooded killer.
"Pointless, Kaina; your feminine charms don't work on me." Resting his elbows on the desk, Destro smiled at her attempts, smirking. Nagant was not surprised by this, as rumors about this man were true, and one of them stated that he could not be deceived in his own territory, where she found herself.
"How are you?" Her femininity also reflected in her voice, and winking at him, she removed her beige blazer, hanging it over her arm.
"Things are going wonderfully. Business, business, business — I need a break." In a joking manner, he spread his arms while rising from his chair. Nagant was ready for various tricks from the businessman and leader.
"Oh, where are my manners? I made a beautiful woman feel attractive; don't be shy, you can sit." At his command, a wide sofa and a glass table with a bottle of water appeared from the floor. Nagant smiled, watching Rikiya turn his back to her. It was the perfect opportunity to shoot him in the back and forget about him like a dream, but that was her order, and she had to obey it.
"Thank you." Plopping down on the sofa, she was surprised at how soft it was. She didn't drink the water, as who knows if it was poisoned or not. Destro returned to a serious expression and, removing all possible inhibiting factors, turned to her with a serious face.
"Jokes aside, Kaina. Why are you here?" His gaze was stern, and his expression penetrating enough that she felt it throughout her body. Removing any pretenses and her mask of femininity, her voice took on a serious tone.
"I came for work." She replied without hesitation, not breaking eye contact with Destro.
"Isn't it currently the season for orders on victims?" The criminal world, which was untouched by heroes, had its own holidays, seasons, and declines of interest, as well as its own prices for people that both already knew.
"They pay well, but most of them don't guarantee safety." Rikiya smiled slyly. Kaina's words made him chuckle; she was right, in the criminal world, no one guarantees safety.
"And you decided to come to me for orders? You know I don't order hits." Right in front of Nagant, a wide sofa appeared for a no less broad man — quite tall and elegant by nature.
"I know, and noticing your recent actions, I saw potential and want to join you." Rikiya leaned back in his chair, interlocking his fingers in front of his face. His gaze did not leave Nagant, but there was neither fear nor surprise in it — only cold, calculating curiosity.
"Join me, you say?" he said slowly, as if savoring the taste of her words.
"You know what that entails?"
"I've lived in the shadows too long. Worked for those who didn't deserve my loyalty," her voice sounded confident, almost defiant.
"You're different. You don't hide behind masks, and you have a strength to be reckoned with." Destro smirked at her flattery. Many tried to please him, but those attempts collided with his incorruptible and unyielding character.
"Flattering. Very flattering. But I don't believe in words, Kaina. I believe in deeds. Too many have tried to play chess on my board and ended up without heads. Why do you think you deserve a place at my table?" She silently removed the bracelet — with a click that could have been the last sound in the life of anyone else — and placed it on the glass table. Her eyes met his.
"Because if I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead." Silence hung in the room, dense as thick smoke. Rikiya did not stir. Only after a few seconds did he lean back, clapping his hands together.
"Excellent answer."
At his snap of the fingers, a mini-bar with strong drinks appeared behind Destro. Rising from the sofa, he took a couple of glasses, pouring a dark liquid with an amber sheen. He didn't know her preferences for alcohol and threw her a questioning look.
"Wine." From the fridge, he retrieved a wine that had been around for 127 years since its release, and seeing the diligent guest who had come to him, he decided not to skimp and meet her as a gentleman should.
"Let's drink to our new alliance, Kaina." In one gulp, he emptied his glass and glanced at her as she slowly sipped the wine in small sips.
"Well, since we're at it, what do you know about Silent Phantom?" Nagant frowned, placing her glass back on the table without finishing it.
"A lone wolf living by his own rules. By following him, I noticed that he hunts the Miyamoto clan and the rest of his goons." She fell silent when Destro stopped her by raising his hand.
"You said he's hunting the Miyamoto clan? Tell me more about that." Nagant picked up the glass again. Taking a sip for courage, she continued.
"Everyone connected to or who knows information about them is being hunted by him." Destro exhaled, directing his gaze at the glass of alcohol.
"Well, it was interesting to hear. In a week, I'll host a banquet for my birthday, and under the guise, you should keep an eye on the guests to avoid any spies."
"Names, masks, legends — everyone has their own goals, but I must stay one step ahead." He turned to her, and his voice grew stricter.
"Silent Phantom — if he is indeed hunting the Miyamoto, he's either an idiot or… knows exactly what he's doing." Kaina closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the tension hang in the air.
"He's not an idiot. His strikes are precise. He wiped out an entire warehouse of criminals who attacked the Yakuza. Without a single witness. Even the cameras burned."
Destro smirked and ran his finger along the edge of his glass. "So we have similar interests… at first glance. But if he steps even one step out of line — you know what to do."
"I understand," she replied quietly, her voice lacking fear — only fatigue and determination.
****
Police Station
Sitting in the department and sipping coffee, Tsukauchi was trying to solve the puzzle known as Silent Phantom by himself, but all in vain; every possible option led to impossibility. No quirks were found in any of the records that resembled what he had displayed in action. Setting his coffee down on the table, Tsukauchi sighed as a headache began to creep in from reports and conspiracy theories about the mysterious avenger.
Ragdoll's words about him being quirkless did not connect in his mind. She was undoubtedly not lying, but everything seemed very strange.
"On one hand, he's quirkless, but how does such a person have the power to take down several heroes alone?" Asking himself this question, Tsukauchi took a sip of coffee until someone knocked on the door of his office. The dull sound pulled him out of his thoughts, and grumbling, he let in an unexpected guest.
"Come in." The door opened, and a very thin person entered the office. He looked like a corpse, and it was hard to imagine that he was even human. An old colleague and good friend of Tsukauchi, Toshinori Yagi, known as All Might.
"How are you doing, old friend!" — yelled Yagi, filling the office with his voice as he watched his friend reluctantly rise from his chair. He squeezed his hand, also placing his hand over it.
"Glad to see you, Toshinori."
"Me too, old friend."
Tsukauchi didn't pay much attention to his friend after the greeting, and Toshinori, noticing how his desk was piled with papers, was much more interested in the dark figure.
"Is it still him?" Tsukauchi leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose with his hands, giving up on further attempts to solve this puzzle.
"Yes, and he's currently the cause of my headache." Toshinori laughed at Tsukauchi's old phrase. Like other law enforcement officials, he had many cases, but being a detective involved a more detailed examination of many things, including connecting scattered pieces to form a complete picture.
"Are we talking about Silent Phantom?" Toshinori, due to his age and injuries, had serious health issues. Having been the symbol of peace for many years, he had lost his health but gave everything for the achievements of the world after defeating All For One.
"Why ask what you already know?" Smiling, Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow in his teasing manner, eliciting a smile from Toshinori.
"And seriously, how is the investigation progressing?" Tsukauchi, opening a cabinet on his desk, pulled out a thick folder filled with numerous pieces of evidence and legal violations by the mysterious avenger. Not taking legal responsibility for his actions, often other heroes and police compensated for damage and paid for his destruction. The recovery process was extremely long and laborious, costing a lot of money. For regular heroes who caused chaos in battles with villains, their agencies or insurance often compensated for damages. Vigilantes or self-proclaimed heroes did not take account of their actions, and those like Silent Phantom paid nothing that went against the law. For many reasons, this modern-day outlaw had numerous charges, including illegal heroism, murder, and frequent severe injuries he left on villains.
Looking at the mountain of papers, Toshinori took out his glasses, a gift from Nighteye, to sort through all the reports about him, but realizing that reviewing all the offenses would take a day, he decided to postpone it indefinitely. Tsukauchi broke the silence with a demonstrative cough.
"I hope you've heard what he did to the Wild Wild Pussy Cats?" He completely destroyed them; this news was shocking to the hero community. Many heroes expressed their concerns, yet they still did not cease attempts to capture him. The recent appearance of Silent Phantom during the day slightly threw law enforcement off balance, as most thought he only acted at night.
"Yes, Nighteye told me about it. He expressed concern about him and still worries about the future he saw many years ago." Fidgeting with his fingers on the table, Tsukauchi completely forgot to offer refreshments to his guest.
"Snacks?" Toshinori shook his head in denial.
"Your partner decided to get involved in capturing him. Honestly, many underground heroes decided to join this special operation." Toshinori perked up upon hearing that Nighteye hadn't informed him about the operation but chose to remain silent before a walking lie detector.
"Everything is too serious, and the most surprising thing is that if he continues his activities, the world for which you sacrificed your health could simply be destroyed by his actions." Tsukauchi glanced out the window, where raindrops had begun to break against the glass, as if foreseeing a storm. He sighed softly, rose from his chair, and approached the board where photographs, printouts, and notes were pinned, pointing to one of the images.
"Do you see this photograph?" — his voice became lower, more serious.
"It was taken by a surveillance camera after he dealt with an entire gang that was raiding a dilapidated orphanage belonging to one Iguchi Shuichi. None of them died, but all were hospitalized — fractures, internal injuries, psychological trauma. But look at the face of Silent Phantom..." Toshinori stepped closer and squinted, peering at the blurred figure in a leather jacket. In the photo, he stood like a ghost, crouched like a beast in ambush, with a mask splattered with blood. His white eyes shone against the black silhouette and expressed malice.
"It's as if he knew he was being filmed… and didn't even try to hide," Toshinori muttered, frowning.
"He's not afraid of cameras or witnesses. He acts with absolute confidence in his righteousness." Tsukauchi slowly nodded, picking up another document, but Toshinori stopped him, understanding the danger he represented, and decided to steer the conversation onto another track. Tsukauchi exhaled, remembering Ragdoll's words.
"There is new information that he's quirkless. I agree it sounds like nonsense, but it's true." Toshinori sank into his thoughts upon hearing about the quirkless, as he had been the same until receiving OFA.
"Nomu?" It slipped from Toshinori's lips. His voice trembled slightly, as he thought that AFO had returned and now he was his experiment that had gone out of control. Tsukauchi shook his head, listening to Toshinori's paranoia.
"No, as we know, Nomu cannot speak or think rationally. They do what they are told, while Phantom is a rational person with a quirk or unique ability." The speculation about his power remained open. After all, there was no such quirk as an expanding black mass or physical enhancement in the registry.
"Could it be that he awakened his quirk late and didn't register it?" Toshinori's guess also made sense, but the estimated number of quirkless individuals in the city was 762.
"Your guess makes sense in terms of existence. Perhaps this is someone who was so embittered by the hero society that they decided to enact justice based on their own principles." Toshinori instantly recalled the green-haired boy he had disappointed and humiliated almost in front of the whole world, and now he had become an object of ridicule. His mouth dried up, and his eyes began to itch from the painful memory. Tsukauchi noticed how tense his friend was and decided to ask directly.
"Is something wrong?"
"Yes, I remembered that green-haired boy who was shown on television 2.5 months ago." Tsukauchi remembered his friend's actions. He had been disappointed in him, but Toshinori had noble intentions, speaking as the number one hero, yet his actions had sparked a wrath that had not subsided for a week until Toshinori realized his mistake, which he still regretted.
"You still haven't told me what you talked about on that rooftop when you saved him." Tsukauchi scoffed at Toshinori's melodrama regarding the green-haired boy he had let down.
"You shamed him, Toshinori, and you had the gall not to apologize to him. He's just your ordinary fan seeking approval." With each word, Tsukauchi's tone rose, cornering the symbol of peace in a dead end with no way out.
"Then, on the rooftop, he asked me if a quirkless person like him could become a hero?" Tsukauchi pondered this question. In the world of heroes, there were no quirkless heroes, and if there were, they were vigilantes, defying the law.
"I didn't want to burden the boy with the weight of heroism. I told him he was 'not worthy.'" Tsukauchi's eyebrows shot up. He could hardly believe what he heard from Toshinori; he had been too harsh with that boy.
"What did you just say?" Silence hung over the office as if the room itself refused to accept what had been said. The raindrops continued to patter against the glass, as if accompanying every word with a heavy, grim rhythm. Tsukauchi could not take his eyes off Toshinori, as if for the first time in a long time he saw not the symbol of peace but simply a person — tired, aging, and making mistakes.
"Did you seriously say that… to him?" he spoke slowly, almost in a whisper, as if trying to digest what he had just heard.
"To the boy who was ready to help, having nothing but will? You… you told him he wasn't worthy?" Toshinori lowered his eyes. His shoulders, usually squared even in his weakened state, seemed to sag. He looked smaller, weaker.
"I wanted to protect him..." he exhaled. From disappointment, from pain, from a world that would not forgive his weakness.
"I feared that the path of a hero would break him. But perhaps I became that very pain I wanted to spare him from..." Tsukauchi stood up from the table and paced the room, unsure where to put his hands. He clutched his head, listening to the futile attempt to save the boy's life.
"Do you even understand what you said? Why did you tell him the truth? You could have persuaded him."
"Tell me instead, is it better to hear a truth that hurts but achieves something in life, or to live a lie but happily, achieving nothing?" Tsukauchi also pondered the answer but decided not to respond. His friend looked dejected, and there was none of the confidence he had walked in with.
"Dreaming is good, but it's better to face reality than to deceive yourself." An awkward silence fell, and the room itself became a chamber of torture from Toshinori's mistakes. Tsukauchi exhaled heavily, finally sitting back down in his chair. He couldn't blame his friend. It was hard to blame someone who had suffered from the life of a hero, essentially becoming a dead man due to his quirk and the burden he bore as the symbol of peace. For once, Tsukauchi was glad that Endeavour had become the number one hero, surpassing All Might.
"I'm not sure he will forgive me after this, but I will try," he said gloomily, looking out the window.