Progress never stands still. With each passing century, humanity has invented new innovations to make life easier. Izuku felt this when he landed on the roof without much effort. Mei's air shoes cushioned the impact of the landing, and the experimental gloves were very grippy. The gloves covered half of the forearm and had empty spaces between the plates, which were made inaccurately due to Mei's limited resources. According to her, these "babies" were unstable, but Izuku took them for himself because she didn't need them.
Movement became more efficient thanks to a special gel used by people with weak feet. The hands clung to the concrete so tightly that Andy's strength was not needed; Izuku had enough to hang at a height for a short time without help. Pushing off from another building, Izuku landed on the roof indicated in the letter. The identification number confirmed access to the roof. Izuku's eyes searched for anything suspicious.
The ventilation unit blew upward, and metal mesh surrounded the roof for safety. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and boiling oil. Izuku thought about how he had been tricked, but a ticking sound on the roof caught his attention. Touching the ground with his feet, he slowly and silently walked toward the source of the noise. Andy was alert, and Izuku's eyes spotted a backpack in the old air conditioning system. It was broken, and the propeller had rusted.
Fear and nervousness coursed through Izuku's veins. Despite his bravery in battle, he was still afraid of the unknown. Step by step, he approached the backpack, preparing to open it, but Andy stretched out a tentacle, fearing an ambush. Slowly but surely, the backpack opened, revealing a letter and several devices. Discarding the devices, the tentacle opened the letter, breaking the wax seal. There was a crackling sound as the letter opened, and Izuku recognized the same elegant handwriting with that scent. An unknown sponsor was helping him, but did that mean she was constantly watching him without him knowing? A shiver ran through his body at the thought, and his mind began to construct potential suspects.
Hey, if you're reading this letter, check your backpack—I left you some gifts. These gadgets are for disguise. You'll figure them out.
At the party, you'll disguise yourself as Horiguchi Tatsumaru, a public figure involved in charity work. He won't be at the private banquet at Re Destro, and no one but me knows that you are underneath him.
Good luck, sweetheart."
From the handwriting and content of the letter, Izuku had no doubt about the gender of the author. Folding the letter, he began rummaging through his backpack for devices. There was a photograph of a man and several curious gadgets. Grabbing his backpack, Izuku ran to the Destro building. The gadgets made it easier to move around and perform acrobatics, saving calories. The Destro building was easy to find—a tall glass structure at the end of the street. Izuku had to move carefully, hiding from prying eyes; his last fight had almost been the last day of his life. Because of the sound of sirens and phone calls, he had to hide in the shadows or in smelly places, attracting less attention to himself. Tentacles flew out from his waist, stabilizing his flight and landing, diversifying his movement. There was no crime in the night alleys near the Destro building, which surprised Izuku. It was a centrally located, prosperous area where only wealthy people lived.
After landing in the alley, Izuku examined the contents of the backpack. Examining each item, he guessed that the small device resembling a waffle was a voice modulator, and the other, resembling a pill, was a masking device. There was also a photo of Tatsumara Horiguchi in the bag. Placing the masking device on his forehead, Izuku saw the face of the man in the photo. Well-groomed black hair, a sharp chin, and clear skin. In the reflection of the window, he felt like a stranger, but when he touched his face, the masking began to fail, showing ripples.
"This won't do. Let me solve this problem." The tentacles began to transform his face into Horiguchi's. His body changed, and the symbiotic slime pulsed, turning him into a business suit. A dark suit, a white shirt with dark cufflinks, and a bow tie around his neck. Izuku couldn't believe his eyes; he couldn't have imagined this before. But as soon as he lost his concentration, the disguise faded, returning him to his former form.
"You should focus on this person's face and appearance. I can change the face and body, but I can't fix the vocal cords. So we'll need a voice modulator." Izuku took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and concentrated. He imagined the face in the photo: sharp cheekbones, a well-groomed beard, the cold, piercing eyes of Horiguchi Tatsumara. He imagined his posture—straight, confident, with a slight hint of condescension. He imagined how he held his hands—calmly, almost casually.
A wave ran through his skin. This time it wasn't pain, but a strange, ticklish sensation, as if millions of tiny needles were rearranging his flesh. He opened his eyes and looked again at the reflection in the dark window. Now it wasn't Izuku Midoriya looking back at him from the glass, but Horiguchi Tatsumara. Perfect. From the light gray hair at his temples to the impeccable cut of the expensive suit that Andy had recreated with frightening accuracy. Izuku touched his cheek. The skin was smooth, but alive and warm. It wasn't a mask — it was an illusion at the cellular level.
"Okay, but remember, if you decide to use your tentacles, the disguise will be blown," Andy warned himself mentally. "Keep up the act. Don't think about yourself. You are Horiguchi now. A rich, arrogant, bored philanthropist who was invited out of politeness." Izuku nodded to his reflection and took out a voice modulator—a thin, almost invisible film. He placed it over his larynx. The device buzzed as it calibrated itself.
"Testing," Izuku whispered. What came out of his throat was not his own youthful, cracked voice, but a low, velvety baritone with a slight hoarseness—the voice of a man who talks too much at charity dinners. Izuku shuddered. It was eerie to hear a strange voice coming out of his mouth.
"Excellent," Andy said. "Now let's go. We're lucky to see Re Destro in his building. Let's find out what he's up to." Izuku (or Horiguchi?) straightened his shoulders, adjusted his imaginary tie, and stepped out of the shadows of the alleyway onto the lighted driveway leading to Destro's building.
The security guards at the entrance—two large men in perfectly tailored suits—gave him an appraising look. Izuku felt cold sweat break out under Horiguchi's mask. But they were stopped and searched for weapons. For security reasons, they ran him through a metal detector and, finding nothing suspicious, let him in without a second thought.
One of the guards nodded to the other and pressed a button on his earpiece.
"Tatsumaru Horiguchi has arrived."
The black glass doors slid open silently, letting him into the hall, flooded with cold light and decorated with white marble. Inside, it smelled of money, expensive perfume, and power. Horiguchi took a step forward, leaving behind not only the alley, but also the last remnants of himself. Tonight, he was a different man. And he was about to dance on a razor's edge in the heart of the lion's den. He was greeted by young men in suits with friendly faces, but he paid no attention to them until one of them said:
"Sir, you cannot attend the banquet without a wristband." Calming his nerves, Horiguchi slowly approached them, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket.
"I'm sorry, where are my manners? I was in such a hurry that I forgot the basic wristband," he smiled quietly, showing his friendliness. One of the girls smiled warmly back at him, having no choice but to work with disrespect and make concessions for wealthy individuals. Noticing her good intentions, Izuku politely asked where the main hall of the event was located.
"Excuse me, where is the banquet being held? The Destro Tower is so huge that it's very easy to get lost in it."
"Of course. The twelfth floor, sir," the young girl smiled. Without breaking character as a philanthropist, Horiguchi winked at her and moved on. The interior looked very impressive: large mirrors with gilded frames, marble and granite on the walls were rare for buildings of this level. The craftsmen knew their stuff, leaving not a single flaw on the walls, which was a special treat for perfectionists. The elevator doors opened with a familiar sound, and as Horiguchi stepped into the empty elevator, he saw a richly decorated mirror.
Before the doors closed, the elevator stopped and opened again. Standing in front of him were two men in expensive suits with red shirts and white ties, their hair as black as ravens, slicked back and shiny. They were surprised by his appearance, and the deputy, not wanting to appear rude, offered his hand for a handshake.
"Tatsumaru Horiguchi, nice to meet you." Without arousing unnecessary suspicion, Izuku also extended his hand, and the director extended his as well. Horiguchi felt their smooth skin touch his, but the director squeezed his hand tightly, unlike the deputy. If this had been an informal meeting, he would have torn his hand off. The director demonstrated his indifference by showing his position in comparison to him.
"How are your projects going, Horiguchi-san? I hear you've been very successful in the public sphere." The question broke his concentration, causing him to panic. The hem of his pants began to shift, but Horiguchi concentrated and replied in an even tone:
"The projects are progressing slowly but surely. I would like to see better results compared to last year." His heart and nervous system were dancing on hot coals. The deputy looked at him askance, then whispered cautiously in the director's ear. It was clear from the look on his face that the director was extremely interested in what he had to say.
"There's nothing we can do about it, that's our harsh reality," the deputy said melancholically. Like a cornered animal, Horiguchi was ready to fight them, but his self-control restrained his rash actions. If it weren't for the skin of a wealthy philanthropist, he would have been treated like dirt by the rich who considered themselves superior to others.
"Excuse my bluntness, but I have never met gentlemen like you in my career." Without saying a word, the deputy held out a rice paper business card with a pleasant aroma. The name and surname of the corporation's director were written in large, smooth letters, and his role was written at the bottom.
"Deputy Kaito Yaoyorozu."
Seeing who was in front of him, Horiguchi nervously put the business card in his pocket. They turned away from him, showing him their backs, as if knowing that he would not harm them. The door closed with a click, taking all the passengers to the twelfth floor.
"It's nice to talk to you, Yaoyorozu-san." The deputy just snorted at this, but refrained from saying anything else, content with the silent atmosphere. Horiguchi also refrained from making any unnecessary comments, not wanting to draw attention to himself, but the silence was unexpectedly broken by Kaito himself.
"Refrain from communicating with the Miyamoto and Tokugawa delegations, they don't like intelligence. For them, such holidays are just a formality." Horiguchi nodded silently, maintaining his composure. The elevator rose higher and higher, and with his insides clenched, Horiguchi felt a mental pressure he had never experienced before. Before reaching the top floor, the elevator stopped at the one below, causing confusion among everyone, but it still took them up despite the interference. As they stepped out of the elevator, their feet touched the soft carpeted floor.
Horiguchi followed them, surveying his surroundings. The banquet was in full swing; the voices of people in rich costumes and their companions could be heard everywhere. De Destro had spared no expense on the orchestra and other entertainment. His eyes darted from one person to another; apart from Destro and the Yaoyorozu delegation, Horiguchi did not recognize anyone. Assessing all the guests, Horiguchi wandered around the banquet area, looking for a quick escape route.
The hall exuded luxury, muffled by music and the whispers of conspirators. Horiguchi took a few steps, trying to blend in with the crowd, but he felt as if he had entered a cage with exotic, dangerous predators. Every glance that fell on him seemed judgmental. Every laugh sounded false.
His mysterious sponsor was right. The cream of the crop of rich and business people from all over Mustafu had gathered here. He recognized faces from the newspapers: the charismatic Re Destro, surrounded by a crowd of admirers; the gloomy head of the Tokugawa clan, standing apart with a glass of whiskey; the sullen representative of Miyamoto, who was already staring at him from the other end of the hall. And, of course, Kaito Yaoyrozu and his deputy, who seemed to have disappeared into the crowd, but whose presence Izuku could feel behind him. Young waitresses with attractive appearances walked around the hall from time to time, offering snacks and alcoholic beverages. They approached all the guests, including Horiguchi.
Without breaking character as a wealthy philanthropist, he took the white truffle snacks offered by the waitresses. Horiguchi's inner voice begged him to try them. Not everyone can afford such a delicacy, especially when it costs ¥700,000. The waitress greeted him politely, allowing him to take the intoxicating drink in his hands.
Conversations about money involving seven- and eight-digit sums were in the air. Listening to their conversations, Horiguchi found it difficult to imagine that such people would spend fabulous sums on something as ordinary as a trip to the store. Such whims were not characteristic of him, and he did not understand it; he thought for a long time about where he had ended up. The smell of expensive perfume made his head spin. The sight of overweight people eating expensive snacks was extremely repulsive. Passing by them, Horiguchi felt detached, out of place. Everyone was laughing and smiling, while he felt only melancholy as he surveyed the entire banquet. He encountered half-naked girls dancing on stage and musicians playing various instruments, from jazz to classical. Most places had hidden cameras disguised as vegetation. Where there was alcohol, there were security guards in crimson jackets.
Continuing to explore the area, he stumbled upon a door leading directly to a terrace where there were also people. The wind blew gently, ruffling his hair. A couple on the terrace gave in to passion, touching each other's lips, while on the other side, elderly people smoked, exhaling poison into the air. Their company was accompanied by loud laughter and conversations about important matters, in which the word "heads" slipped in, which Horiguchi did not understand.
Half an hour passed, and the main person at the banquet was not there, which raised questions among the rich people about the birthday boy. Some people at the banquet walked with their deputies, clearly following those who had hired them.
The lights began to dim before going out completely, and the bracelets of all the participants began to glow green. People dropped everything and headed for the stage where he was.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you," Destro began. For convenience, he had prepared tables and chairs for all the guests. His gait was confident, and he was always dressed in his tailor-made suit. His hairstyle, like his gait, was polished to perfection. Horiguchi felt anger and awe; he was huge compared to many of the rich people at the banquet. Among the rich were also people whom Destro himself considered his favorites in terms of wealth. Horiguchi could only see Kaito Yaoyrozu and his deputy sitting next to him; he had never seen the rest of the people in his life. Destro's appearance was a welcome event for the entire hall, and when they saw him, everyone present applauded. He basked in their approval as if in an ocean; nothing and no one could break his self-confidence. The scene was just as he had imagined it — rich, decorated, and pleasing to the eye. Despite his dislike of his competitors, he knew how to put on a show.
"I won't keep you waiting long. Today, at this charity party — at my expense, of course," many laughed in the hall, including his competitors. No one doubted his wealth, which exceeded nine figures. At their laughter, Destro smiled, spread his arms, and continued:
"Oh, come now! I am a generous person, and the satisfaction of my guests is the main thing I have organized at this banquet." His voice was deep and precisely calibrated; its timbre would command the attention of anyone who knew how to listen.
"As everyone knows, despite the heroes who protect our society from villains, I have discovered a disease and a tumor in society that no one but me has noticed." The silence in the hall became absolute. Even the sounds of the waiters' footsteps froze. All eyes were fixed on Re Destro. Horiguchi froze, feeling an icy lump of fear roll down his spine.
"A tumor?" someone whispered in the front row. Destro slowly scanned the room; his face became serious, almost mournful.
"To clarify this disease for you, I will tell you a fragment of my life story."
****
"All units, keep your weapons on safety. The local population does not accept strangers and may become aggressive if attacked; fire is permitted. Remember: this is a diplomatic mission. If you attack first, you will be court-martialed." A platoon of soldiers, armed to the teeth, loaded their magazines and checked their weapons' safety catches. The helicopter flew at high altitude, and the background noise was drowned out by the soldiers' conversations and laughter. Armed with automatic weapons and wearing special equipment, the soldiers of the diplomatic mission were ready to land in potentially dangerous enemy territory. Among them was Rikiya Yotsubashi.
"The main goal is to establish contact with the local population and ensure protection for diplomats. In the event of any attack, fire is permitted against aggressors; fire is prohibited against civilians." Many years later, a settlement was discovered on the Eurasian continent that posed a threat to the rest of the world. Their activities were extremely aggressive, including recruitment and sabotage against the main forces of the heroes' government. Until peace came, chaos reigned throughout the world, with many individuals pursuing their own interests. In addition to the soldiers, there were four people wearing helmets and bulletproof vests—a delegation of diplomats invited to the peace agreement. Numerous attacks on the civilian population and the violence associated with this settlement led to the creation of a diplomatic alliance to resolve issues of peacekeeping. Among the soldiers was also Rikiya, who went into foreign service to ensure the security of the continent.
"Mission 'Eagle's Nest'. The population may be armed, and under no circumstances should you succumb to provocations from civilians. You are being monitored from the air; everyone respond to the briefing." The soldiers took turns responding to the information in the briefing. Rikiya also responded, and the chief officer in charge of the operation cut off communication, leaving the soldiers in the helicopter and entrusting them with the operation.
"The helicopter landed five kilometers from the building due to the lack of a landing pad. Most of the buildings in this area are homemade, and only one building houses diplomats," said the pilot, looking for a good flat area to land. Everyone present responded positively to the pilot's words. One of the soldiers grumbled, considering the mission a failure, and suggested another option.
"Why do we need all this trouble with diplomats? Wouldn't it be better to bomb this population with missiles or something heavier?" The diplomats looked at him askance, not responding to his words. Destro listened, but paid no attention to his impulsive colleague in camouflage uniform with a heavy assault rifle.
The helicopter landed, and the airlock was opened for the soldiers. After searching the area within a 100-meter radius and finding no one, they followed the coordinates and walked across the barren plain with the diplomats. Sixteen soldiers, including Destro, walked 2 km until they saw a settlement. It was fenced in with stones and improvised materials, and the walls were made of clay and other materials. The guards held small arms, pointing them at the strangers, but when they saw the diplomats, who were unarmed, they put their weapons away.
"I order you not to shoot," came the command over the radio. Hearing this, they opened the metal gates. The soldiers accompanied the diplomats, keeping their automatic weapons at the ready. Local residents looked at the soldiers of the diplomatic mission with discontent. Walking through the settlement, Rikiya noticed how angrily the children looked at him, while the adults held stones and improvised weapons in their hands.
"We come in peace," Destro said loudly, showing a sign of peace, but this only angered the local population even more. Rikiya kept his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot. More and more people with bad intentions surrounded them. Women picked up their children and left, fearing for their loved ones. And the old men shouted sarcastic insults.
"Murderers, rapists, scoundrels!" shouted one of the old men. Angry shouts accompanied them all the way to the main building, two kilometers away. Rikiya drew conclusions: due to their lack of power, the locals compensated for this with the weapons they held. The last 500 meters to their destination were surrounded by people with weapons who had nothing to lose. In the area close to the negotiations, people kept heavy weapons at the ready, including explosive devices. A few meters before reaching their destination, the diplomats were nervous because of the pressure exerted by the local population.
The building they were looking for was a few meters away. The diplomats went inside, and when Rikiya followed them, weapons were pointed at him. His colleagues instantly reacted to the threat by pointing their weapons in their direction. The situation became extremely tense, but words only worked in the opposite direction here.
The building they were looking for was just a few meters away. The diplomats went inside, and when Rikiya followed them, they pointed their guns at him. His coworkers reacted instantly to the threat, pointing their guns at them. The situation got super tense, but words only made things worse.
"Soldiers cannot be present where peace negotiations are taking place. This is a gray area, and you cannot be there with weapons." Rikiya froze, his finger on the trigger. The air crackled with tension. A dozen barrels, some homemade and some not, were pointed directly at him. The soldiers in his platoon stood with the same petrified expressions on their faces, their own weapons aimed at the crowd. One wrong breath, one sudden movement, and this flimsy platform in front of the clay house would turn into a slaughterhouse. The diplomats, pale as death, darted their eyes between the soldiers and the residents of the settlement.
"Stand down!" barked the senior officer, his voice hoarse with adrenaline. "Stand down, damn it! Lower your weapons! That's an order!"
Rikiya did not obey immediately. His instincts screamed danger. Those eyes, full of pure hatred... They were not looking at a soldier. They were looking at a mutant. At a monster. At someone who was born with something they would never have, and for which they were willing to kill.
"Rikiya!" hissed his platoon mate. Slowly, as if against his will, Rikiya lowered the barrel of his rifle to the ground. The other soldiers followed his example, but their postures remained tense, ready to raise their weapons again at any moment. The resident holding the barrel to Rikiya's face did not lower his weapon. His hand trembled with rage.
"Go away," he croaked in broken but understandable language. "You... are not human. You are a mistake. You have brought only death."
Destro, standing slightly to the side, watched the scene with an icy, analytical gaze. He didn't look scared; he looked... interested. Like a scientist observing the behavior of test subjects.
A few minutes later, the diplomats came out with frightened looks on their faces. Only three of the four came out; one diplomat remained with the heteromorphic aberration. At the exit, he was tied up with a gun pointed at his head. He was shaking with fear, and the other diplomats were extremely shocked by the turn of events. According to them, they had demanded almost impossible conditions, and when they saw such a threat, they all pointed their weapons at the potentially dangerous people.
"This mutant will stay with us. The negotiations have failed, and it was you who caused them to fail when you decided to come here. The rest of you can leave, but he will stay with us," he said.
****
"After that diplomatic mission, only I and a couple of my colleagues survived. Words cannot describe the danger of that situation. But thanks to my quirk, I survived, even though it was forbidden by order." The whole hall applauded; even Horiguchi had to clap for show, demonstrating his loyalty. He was a skilled orator; it was no surprise that he had many followers, even in wealthy circles. The applause poured in like water, showering him with praise, but it was clear from his gaze that they had not been called to listen to his backstory.
"Why am I telling this long story? In short, for the particularly gifted: I believe that in every country, the unpretentious are a threat to our society. Don't get me wrong; I am by no means a racist," he said, pushing away unnecessary accusations. At his words, the head of the Tokugawa clan smiled at the irony.
As Destro continued to speak, a woman with red hair and an equally red dress watched him, crossing her legs and showing interest in him.
"Having researched many countries where there are people without quirks, from rich to poor, I have come to the conclusion that people without quirks, despite all the laws to support them, are dissatisfied. From an economic point of view, they are unprofitable. One person with a weak quirk can replace three who do not have one." Statistics and infographics demonstrating labor activity appeared in the background. The numbers became both a good ally and an enemy for every businessman. Horiguchi noticed how the audience began to listen to him with interest. No one was indifferent to his words; he spoke the truth, providing evidence, and Destro had an impeccable reputation among businessmen.
"As you all know, there has been a recent increase in robberies and violence committed by the unprivileged. Although the heroes are coping with this task, unfortunately, not all crimes can be prevented. Many of them have to pay extra because of the laws; let's just say that almost everyone in the company, except me, has an employee or a person without privileges." He spread his arms and asked everyone to raise their hands if this was true. Almost half of the banquet hall raised their hands; Horiguchi also had to raise his, feeling anger and discontent. Only Yaoyorozu and Tokugawa did not raise their hands, which made Destro smile.
"I see you all raised your hands, which doesn't surprise me. It is, of course, your right to spend extra money, but I would prefer not to pay extra for them when they are living time bombs. What am I getting at?" Horiguchi, feeling anger, began to realize that his disguise was beginning to fade, and he understood this when he looked at his pants, which were disappearing, returning him to his normal state. Horiguchi, sensing danger, resigned himself to the situation in which he was being razed to the ground, speaking frankly that he was a terrorist. His inner voice also hissed at Destro, wanting to tear him apart right there on the spot. The forces were unequal: he was alone against the powerful and influential people at the banquet, who would not leave him alive.
"They are potentially dangerous to society, and to minimize security costs, I want to show you this." In the 38 minutes that had passed since the beginning, there was a tarp and an unknown door-like device behind Destro. To everyone's surprise, Destro quickly approached the device and, with one deft movement, removed the tarpaulin, revealing a metal detector.
Miyamoto and the other competitors laughed out loud, as did the audience, except for Horiguchi. The metal detector looked unremarkable, but as soon as Destro explained how it worked, panic began to take hold of Horiguchi. An inner voice screamed at him to calm down, or else they would be in trouble. Due to his emotional nature and heightened emotions, it was extremely difficult to calm himself down. This meant that he, like his kin, would simply become...
"This device works like a kettle. People pass through it, and the device determines whether they are suspicious or not. In this way, it will enhance security and prevent the risk of robbery and assault by allowing for an immediate response. It's a better security device than paying people extra money." The audience stood up and applauded Destro, who held his left hand over his heart and bowed to everyone. Even his competitors decided to congratulate him on his success. He glanced at his watch and, accepting the applause, left the stage as abruptly as he had appeared. The lights in the hall came on, illuminating the entire space, and Horiguchi, without delay, got up from his seat and headed for the restroom.
"I see the performance was a success," a red-haired woman called out to Destro. Wiping his hands with a towel, Destro's height compared to the woman was noticeable to the naked eye.
"You know, Kaina, red doesn't suit you, but you have excellent taste in camouflage," he smiled. She did not respond to his compliment, replying only with a grunt. Her gaze remained cold and expressed nothing but indifference. Everything went on as usual until Destro made a strange request.
"Kaito Yaoyorozu's daughter is in this banquet hall. Make sure she's okay. If anyone is talking to her, take him or her to a room and interrogate them." Without saying a word, Destro was ready to leave, but Kaina's strange question threw him off balance. He himself had told Yaoyorozu, like everyone else at this banquet, that they were competitors and enemies. Why would he suddenly spare their lives if not to leave them to their fate?
"Yes, they are competitors, Kaina, but they don't allow us to rest on our laurels. Although we are enemies, we are mutual and respectful. Now stop asking questions and do as you are told." The door to the men's room closed silently behind Horiguchi (or rather, what was left of him). The illusion trembled like a mirage in the desert. The reflection in the mirror flickered: sometimes the well-groomed face of a philanthropist, sometimes the pale, contorted face of Izuku. The features floated, blurred, and reassembled.
"Hang in there!" Andy growled from inside, his voice tense and full of anxiety. The symbiote did its best to stabilize the disguise, but Izuku's emotional shock was too strong. "They didn't recognize you. Pull yourself together! Breathe!"
Izuku grabbed the edge of the marble sink, his knuckles turning white. He didn't see himself in the mirror. He saw this device—a cold, soulless metal detector that, with a single click, could turn anyone innocent into an outcast, a suspect, a target. He saw the smiling, approving faces in the hall. They applauded. They agreed. Destro wasn't just selling them a security system. He was selling them an ideology. A justification for segregation.
Suddenly, the bathroom door opened slightly. The silhouette of a man in a crimson security jacket appeared in the doorway. His eyes, hidden behind dark glasses, slowly scanned the room and stopped on Izuku.
"Are you all right, sir? You don't look well," the guard's voice was polite, but there was not a hint of warmth in it. It was the voice of a function.
Horiguchi straightened up abruptly, forcing the tremor in his knees to subside. He clung to the image in his mind: I am Horiguchi Tatsumaru. Rich. Important. I just felt stuffy.
"Everything... everything is fine," he forced himself to say in Horiguchi's voice, low and slightly irritated. "I just... can't stand these large gatherings. Too much idle chatter."
Seccurity paused for a second, as if scanning him. Then he nodded. "I understand, sir. The banquet is coming to an end. If you need any assistance..."
"Not necessary," Horiguchi cut in, stepping toward the door, trying to make his gait confident, slightly arrogant. "Let me through." Panicked, Horiguchi headed for the terrace in search of fresh air. The problem hung in the air; despite such an exceptional opportunity, he had achieved nothing. Only official information, but he found no further valuable information, which caused him disappointment. He was greeted by the same people as the first time he stepped onto the terrace, but there was one exception: behind him stood a person holding two glasses of alcohol.
"May I invite you to have a drink with me, Mr. Horiguchi?" The soft, vanilla-like voice echoed in his ears. He had never interacted with people of the upper class before, and this only caused him to panic even more. He wanted to forget this evening as quickly as possible, like a nightmare. She persistently approached him, taking bold steps until she stood on his left side.
"Do we know each other?" he asked, without looking at her, feeling that he couldn't escape the conversation and wanting to brush her off.
"Us? No. But we could get to know each other better." Curiosity took over like an avalanche. He saw a girl in front of him, as young as he was. Her turquoise dress with an asymmetrical neckline caught his eye. Horiguchi looked only at her face, staring intently into her eyes, ignoring her neck. A ponytail and black onyx eyes. She held out a glass of champagne to him as an invitation to talk, and despite his protests, he took the glass in his hands. The taste of alcohol clouded his mind, and he knew it well. She was young and rich; at social parties, an underage girl was a rare guest, which Horiguchi himself knew, despite his limited knowledge of feasts.
"May I ask your name? It's not every day you see a young girl at such banquets, Miss..." She giggled, playing and scratching the glass with her fingernails. Her laughter evoked the euphoria and joy he only felt when he was with loved ones. Something strange about her caught his attention.
"You can call me Momo... Momo Yaoyorozu. You're not too old for these tricks either, Horiguchi-san. You're only 19, aren't you, or am I missing something?" He was nervous; emotions were boiling inside him that couldn't be stopped with simple words. Alcohol is the worst tool for negotiations, his voice of reason screamed at him. Her surname spoke volumes; she was the daughter of that very Yaoyorozu, the powerful and ruthless corporate executive.
"I don't need an introduction to Miss Yaoyrozu." She clinked her glass against his, smiling warmly and creating a romantic atmosphere.
"Bottoms up." Not trusting her, Horiguchi waited for her to close her eyes before drinking his alcoholic beverage. He hated alcohol, even his inner symbiote protested. She closed her eyes, enjoying the moment, while Horiguchi poured his drink onto the terrace, not allowing passion and temptation to get the better of him. She had pleasant features with earrings, and her impressive breasts, despite her young age, attracted attention. Finally, taking a last sip, she looked at him with greater boldness.
"How do you like the cocktail?" The prelude was extremely annoying to Horiguchi's inner self, who wanted her to say everything directly instead of hinting at it.
"Why did you come up to me? I'm not a fan of long conversations, I have to go." She was still silent, trying to find the right words. Unable to bear it any longer, she leaned close to his ear and whispered:
"I invited you to this party on the roof of that building with the device. Are you still refusing me, wanting to leave without even talking?" A cold sweat ran down his body. She, a teenager barely of legal age, had pulled off this scam. The inner symbiote was surprised by this turn of events and, looking back, hoped that no one had heard them.
"Would you like some privacy?" she asked with a sly smile, sensing her interlocutor's interest.
"If you don't mind." Horiguchi did not break character, and the entire spy operation was in an extremely dangerous state. She took him by the hand and led him quickly in an unknown direction. The corridors were filled with luxury, like in an expensive hotel, and with a key card, she entered a room created by Destro for special occasions of passion.
"What do you want from me?" he asked. She reached for her hair, pulling out something he didn't recognize. He was ready to defend himself in a potentially dangerous situation, but all he could see was...
"A business card? I came all this way for a business card?" he wondered. She smiled slyly, walking around him and examining his body. Her nails touched his symbiotic suit, arousing Horiguchi's interest. She assessed him as the ideal candidate for her desires. Horiguchi stepped back a few paces. Her voice was warm and playful; she wasn't afraid of him because she knew that no one would dare refuse her.
"You are very brave to come here alone. I can feel the scars on your body, and look at your physique. Even under your disguise, I can feel your strength." Her voice dropped to a whisper, and her movements became more confident. Her sweet scent and predatory gaze created the image of an unapproachable woman who herself draws attention to someone.
"How do you know all this?" He kept stepping back until his back was pressed against the wall. She had cornered him like a kitten. His former confidence melted like ice in front of such a fiery girl. The light gradually faded, leaving only the moonlight illuminating the room.
"Wasn't it me who paid off your debts to the Broker? Let's just say I'm that mysterious sponsor." Horiguchi's eyes widened in surprise. Everything fell into place. Momo leaned her hands against the wall, her forearms a few inches from his neck. The neckline of her dress exposed her thigh, blocking the exit from this trap. A strange feeling of passion and lust overwhelmed his mind, fueling the temptation to try new sensations. The corners of his mind and desires took precedence over common sense, causing him to lose concentration. The temptation to touch and possess her grew stronger, like a dark corner striving to assert itself.
The temptation was fiery and almost tangible. Her warmth, her scent, her confidence—all of it weighed on him, threatening to wash away the last remnants of caution. Andy raged inside him, a mixture of anxiety, excitement, and a primal reaction to such a blatant invasion of personal space. The chemical reaction screamed: "Grab her and throw her on the bed!" His primal nature wanted to take over, showing who was really in charge in this game. He resisted his desires, and this resistance interfered with his concentration. Horiguchi's image wavered on the edge—for a moment, half of his face blurred, revealing the true Izuku. His eyes and the right side of his cheek were exposed, revealing freckles and green eyes
Momo noticed this. Her onyx-black eyes flashed with excitement and triumph. She wasn't scared. She was curious.
"So this is what you look like under the mask..." she whispered, her finger slowly, almost weightlessly, tracing his cheek where the disguise had momentarily disappeared, revealing a scar. "More interesting than I thought." Her hot voice caressed his face, tempting Izuku, and he was ready to remove his disguise, but his conscience and what he was fighting for prevailed over temptation. He backed out of the trap, bending over and covering his face from her predatory gaze. She watched with interest as he hid his true face. Izuku had nothing to hide: it was just him and her, alone in the large room.
"I'm not your chained dog that can only be bought with money." She giggled as she sat down on the soft sofa. Crossing one leg over the other, she exposed her clean and graceful thighs, attracting attention. The disguise returned, revealing to Horiguchi that sitting before him was a young, wealthy genius who was playing with him, drawing him into her game. She ran her hand over the soft, silky fabric of the bedspread, gesturing for him to join her.
"If you want to know what you need to know, sit with me and you will find out." His eyebrows furrowed, and his mind was ready to be tempted once again. With quick steps, he walked over to the bed and sat down next to her. She continued to touch him, wanting to take a piece of his strong body for herself. He grabbed her hand, no longer willing to give in.
"It is not gentlemanly to deny a lady's desires. Why wait? Take it." Between his fingers was a business card with the address of their next meeting. She wasn't interested in his financial situation, but in something unknown even to the vigilante himself.
"We can help each other. Do you really enjoy fighting in dirty alleys, beating up freaks? It's noble, but extremely unwise to waste such potential and intelligence on helping others." Izuku really thought about her words. She was right, but his inner core of heroism told him not to listen to the sweet talk from the mouth of a cunning girl who was on par with a collaborator who wanted to get her hands on him.
"I saw how they beat you, threw you around and tossed you about. Do you enjoy hearing your bones crack and enduring the pain?" With a nimble movement of her feet, she took off her heels and climbed onto the bed. Her knees touched the mattress, which sagged under her weight, while Izuku pondered her words. No one had ever been able to catch him off guard with words; even villains couldn't break him or make him doubt his abilities with their attacks. The worst thing for him was to be left alone with temptation, even Andy fell silent at that moment. Her nimble hands grabbed his back as she pressed her chest against his back. Her fingers circled his torso, feeling the scars left by villains, the beautiful girl's head rested on his neck, and his heartbeat quickened many times over. She felt it and was glad that he was breathing unevenly towards her.
"Imagine what we could achieve together. Your strength and courage, and my genius and wealth. We could do so much." She whispered the last sentence, inviting him to her. Again and again, she moved closer and closer, wanting to take his heart. Momo understood this perfectly, running her hand over his chest to his heart. Her head landed on his powerful shoulders, capable of bearing duty and responsibility. Her soft skin touched his shoulder, and her fingertips touched his scars, causing a shiver to run through his whole body.
Tell me, what are you fighting for? What are you fighting for every day, enduring humiliation from everyone? No one appreciates you, despite your efforts. They want to arrest you for your good intentions, and that's the reward for helping people. They don't want to be saved by you; if they have a choice between being saved by you or being a hero, they'll choose the latter. I've seen how they treat you, and I want your efforts to be effective." He froze. Her words, sharp as a blade, pierced through his armor of confidence, finding old, unhealed scars on his soul. She was saying what he was afraid to admit even on his darkest nights: the feeling of uselessness of his sacrifice. Andy's inner scream died down, suppressed not by rage, but by the cold, bitter truth she laid before him.
"They would have chosen anyone but you," her voice was velvet poison poured directly into his ear.
"A hero in a shiny suit, smiling from the screen. Not someone who smells of blood and sweat, who comes out of the shadows with scars instead of medals." Her fingers rested on his clenched fists, gently prying them open. He didn't resist. The power that surged through his veins now seemed useless, a heavy burden.
"I... I fight so that they can make that choice," he finally managed to say, Izuku's voice, hoarse and real, breaking through Horiguchi's mask.
"So that they have a choice. So that they can live."
"Noble. Foolish and noble," she said softly but firmly, turning his face toward her. Now he was looking straight into her black, bottomless eyes, which reflected his own trembling shadow.
"Once you see how messed up society is, it's hard to live a normal life. You don't know it, but a lot of people want to kill you or get their hands on you. You are a target for them. Your noble actions do not even benefit heroes; you take away the glory they crave, and in return for glory, you receive hatred and bile." With each sentence, her tongue was sharper than any blade, striking accurately at the most painful places. A true predator hidden beneath a beautiful face, she continued to look into his eyes, admiring the features of his clear face. They were alone, and no one could interfere; her arms wrapped around his weakened neck, and with sweet words and her voice, she was able to breach his defenses. She smiled at this, pulling him toward her; her back touched the soft mattress, and he was above her, only a few inches between their faces. One felt confident, paving his way, while the other doubted his actions, his ideals and aspirations trampled underfoot. Her smooth legs wrapped around his waist and closed behind his back, gently but inevitably trapping him in a silky trap. The distance between their faces disappeared. Her lips, warm and smelling of expensive wine, teased his lips. She wanted to touch her lips to his dark horse, to taste him; he teased her, making her voice sound softer than before and her breath quicken, as if the heat on her cheeks pointed it out to him. With just one movement of his head, Izuku could feel himself needed at that moment, before he realized it.
His hand touched her thigh without permission, wanting to expose her. The neckline of her dress allowed him to touch the place where her underwear was. Izuku was horrified by himself and, breaking the lock on his back, took a step back, frightened by himself. His recoil was sharp, like an electric shock. The symbiotic tissue on his hand turned liquid silver in panic, instantly hiding the touch. Izuku recoiled, his back hitting the opposite wall. His eyes showed not fear of her, but horror at himself. At this sudden, animalistic impulse that had escaped his control, like the click of a shutter in the dark.
He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving. Horiguchi's disguise trembled like water on a hot frying pan, revealing patches of his real skin, scars, freckles, eyes full of panic.
Momo didn't scream. She didn't get angry. She slowly raised herself up on her elbows, her dress slipping off her shoulder, revealing silky skin and a thin strap. But there was no resentment or triumph in her gaze. There was understanding and a strange, almost scientific interest.
"You see," she whispered, her voice muffled but clear.
"This is the real you. Not a saint in rags. Not a noble martyr. An animal driven into a corner. With passions. With weaknesses. With a desire... to take." She handed him a business card with the address written on it and her confidence completely destroyed. Her time was running out, just like his. She couldn't win his trust, but she could make him think about her words. Suddenly, she kissed him on the cheek and left, saying one last thing:
"I'll be waiting for you," she said quietly, closing the door behind her. Holding the business card in his hands, Izuku's legs became wobbly and weak. He couldn't take it anymore and grabbed his head, ignoring the world around him, listening only to his inner voice and Andy. No villain had ever shaken him, but here he was defeated, seemingly by words. His thoughts were not destined to last long, as they spun around in his head one after another. Momo's words hung in the air of the room, even after the door closed silently behind her. The metal card burned his palm. But something else burned even hotter—shame mixed with a wild, primal excitement that he barely managed to suppress. The image of her lips a centimeter from his, the silk of her skin under his fingers, her mocking, all-seeing gaze—all of it merged into a continuous, pulsating noise in his blood.
The door opened, but he didn't pay attention to the person who entered, thinking about the situation. The light came on, and the camouflage was still messy. Izuku didn't raise his head until a gun was pointed at him. The door slammed shut, and the first thing he saw were a woman's legs in high heels. Her arm from the elbow down had been transformed into a rifle and was loaded.
"Get up and come with me," she ordered. Before he could snap out of his reverie, he was being held at gunpoint. Forgetting his conversation with Momo, Izuku had to get himself out of this dangerous situation.
"What did you do to Yaoyorozu-san? Answer me before I blow your brains out!" Izuku felt that he couldn't use his powers while concentrating on his disguise, but a part of the symbiote could be used as an aid.
"We talked. She called me over to talk." The gloomy expression on her face did not go away, despite the explanation. She was still keeping him in her sights, sensing a threat from him, and Izuku took the opportunity to get out of her sights. A small symbiotic antenna knocked her off her feet, and she shot at the ceiling. Izuku remembered the balcony in this room and, taking advantage of his opponent's disorientation, ran despite being slowed down by his camouflage. Breaking through with all his might, Izuku crashed into the glass balcony, jumping from a great height. Nagant fired a bullet made of hair in pursuit, but missed. Getting up, she ran to the balcony, cursing under her breath.
"Damn it! Hawks, Silent Phantom is near the Destro building, call for backup and capture him!"
****
Izuku jumped down, returning to his natural form. Horiguchi Tatsumara's camouflage transformed into white lenses, and his body was enveloped by the symbiote. Falling in free fall, the tentacles from his hands caught on the building, preventing him from falling to the ground. He swung in the air, following the place where he had left Mei's experimental gloves. Yesterday's wounds had healed successfully; he felt refreshed and moved easily across the rooftops. The boots were a godsend: ordinary boots rubbed and reacted painfully to every jump, softening his steps. Izuku felt his speed increase slightly.
Everywhere and always, in every chase, there was a predator pursuing its prey. In the wild, this is common for survival, and so it is with humans—the hero "Hawks," who had a reputation as a night and day hero, pursued his prey from the air. His effectiveness lay in his versatility, thanks to the peculiarity of his wings, which made him a hawk without flaws, giving him charm and a bronze face among his young female admirers.
"Hawks reporting. Target moving across rooftops, reporting coordinates. Secure the area and call in the other heroes for backup." The earpiece responded positively to the dispatcher; it had accomplished its primary task—to convey the information. Among the monotonous rooftops, his prey was cleverly camouflaged by its costume, remaining invisible to the untrained eye. Fortunately, his whim rewarded him not only with wings, but also with sharp eyesight, capable of detecting the slightest discrepancy.
"I need to get home as soon as possible." His breathing was recovering from the strenuous run. Thanks to his good coordination and speed, he had distanced himself from the buildings 6 km away from Destro in record time. The advantage of the gadgets was showing results; despite being experimental models, they gave Mei a significant advantage in movement. Izuk was not stupid, understanding the advantages and potential of May. Many prospects lay at his feet, even that very offer from Yaoyorozu hung like one big invitation.
Before Izuku could land on the next roof, sharp, blade-like feathers pierced his chest and back. He screamed in pain, lost his balance, and fell from the sixth floor straight onto the fire escape on the second floor. His eyes opened sluggishly, and he felt a foreign object in his chest; his tentacles slowly grabbed the feathers, painfully pulling them out of his chest, making a sound as they were removed. Particles of the symbiote closed the wound from bleeding while the wound healed with all its might. Izuku glanced at the feathers and saw that they were red with sharp tips. Only one hero could have such feathers.
"Hawks!" Andy hissed. It hovered in the air, flapping its wings, an extremely frightening sight to behold at night when it was in the shadows, like a dark angel come to cleanse the world of demons. Without wasting a second, Izuku crouched down and jumped off the stairs to the ground, looking for new cover from the hawk's feathers. The hawks acted predictably, shooting several dozen sharp feathers at him. Izuku studied it and knew about its quick attack, "Feather Swarm" — an extremely fast, deadly attack that destroyed villains in a matter of seconds.
Taking a big leap, he hid behind a trash can, out of sight. From his analysis, he remembered how limited his feathers were due to his field of vision. His eyes were sharp, and his reactions were on a whole other level, but without a clear field of vision, Hawks couldn't unlock the full potential of his feathers. The feathers dug into the trash can and, like a magnet, returned to their owner.
"How long are you going to hide there?" he asked, without looking away. His combat intelligence and quick reactions made him a very dangerous opponent, and to defeat such an opponent, Izuku thought outside the box, demonstrating something he had never shown his opponents before.
Unclenching his fist, he stuck his fingers into the trash can. With effort, Izuku bent his knees because the object was too heavy. He clenched his teeth as hard as he could and threw the container, which weighed 140 kg, more than his own weight. Hawks flew higher, dodging the throw, but in the middle of the pile of junk, he didn't notice the metal pipe thrown by the dangerous lyncher flying towards him. Hawks instantly cut the pipe, and this gave Izuku time for a surprise attack.
"Gha!" escaped from Hawk's mouth. Somehow, he managed to get around him and strike him in the back. Intuitively, Hawks used his feathers, mentally imagining his opponent behind him. His mind was thinking very logically, but only a small number of feathers could hit the Silent Phantom. Izuku jumped and clung to the walls due to gravity, but thanks to his tentacles, he managed to grab Hawk by the leg and pull him toward him. He threw Hawks to the ground, but Hawks understood that the Silent Phantom was imposing his pace and a game in which he most often won.
Once again, the feathers prevented Izuku from getting close to him. The red feathers swirled around Hawk, protecting him from unexpected attacks; having mastered his quirk, Hawks felt his feathers like a second skin.
"I need to get close to him. He controls both long and short range. I won't be able to escape: he's faster and better than me in everything." The wounds from the feathers healed painfully, Izuku felt his skin closing over the wounds. Andy hissed viciously, tuning into behavior too aggressive for a technical hero. The dark alley was too bright: several lamps and spotlights prevented him from secretly attacking Hawk from different sides. Recovering from the unexpected blow, Hawk only cracked his back, looking at his opponent, who was breathing heavily and holding his chest in pain.
"Is that all you've got?" Tentacles emerged from his back, grabbing four pieces of solid debris and a long pipe that had been torn from the wall. Hawks expected his opponent to use the tentacles during the fight. Many heroes noted his unconventional approach to combat for a lyncher; unlike them, Hawks knew how to quickly neutralize his opponents. Flapping his wings, he launched dozens of feathers at Izuku. Expecting this attack, Izuku jumped onto the wall, knocking several feathers off course.
"Camouflage!" Andy shouted, smiling maliciously at the carrier's plan. The feathers chased after them as they headed for the light source. With a quick and powerful throw, Izuku broke the spotlights and lamps, plunging the alley into darkness; the moonlight dimly illuminated the area, which played into Izuku's hands. Having broken all the lights, he hid in a corner, recovering from the stray feathers that had hit him. The hawk took out two long feathers and made them into twin blades. Taking advantage of the silence, Izuku gained time, but he also understood the danger of the situation.
Hawk's mood changed: once teasing and frivolous, Keigo was now in a completely different frame of mind. Flying higher, he had access to the entire alley. It was too quiet, and Hawk perceived every sound as a potential threat.
*Tk*
Hawks sent his feathers toward the sound, but all he managed to achieve was...
"Nothing." Keigo descended to a dangerous height where he could be hit. Hovering above the ground, he spread his wings into feathers and directed each feather into a dark corner of the alley where he could hit his opponent.
"Agh!" Izuku shouted. In a fit of rage, he threw the pipe straight at Hawk. Hawk reacted to his attack and instantly defended himself against the projectile, cutting it in two with his weapons. This gave Izuku enough time to circle around him and attack from behind. Due to the scattered attack of feathers, the size of Hawk's wings decreased, and his carrying capacity did not allow him to lift two people. Tentacles grabbed his hands, preventing him from swinging his swords, and covered his eyes so that he could not aim his feathers at the target. The two of them fell to the ground, but Izuku, having the advantage, beat him, pressing him against the concrete; the blows were unrestrained and struck Hawk with full force. As a high-ranking hero, Hawk had equipment: his high-octane jacket and T-shirt with black and gold lines absorbed most of the lyncher's blows. Continuing to endure the beating with his eyes closed, Hawks concentrated, directing a hundred feathers above him straight at his opponent.
The feathers pierced the improvised symbiotic shield at high speed, but some of them managed to hit their target, digging deep into his stomach. Izuku stopped, feeling the sharp tips of the feathers penetrate his organs. Using his hands, he pulled them out, bending one knee and breathing heavily. His entire body was torn by feathers, except for his fists; gloves were extremely effective compared to bare fists, protecting him from the feathers.
"He made us into a pillow for needles," Andy said indignantly, wanting to finish off the annoying hero, but the carrier's condition left much to be desired. Covered in sharp feathers, Izuku felt hellish pain in all parts of his body; it was a very serious fight against a top ten hero.
"We have to retreat." The feathers embedded in the symbiotic shield vibrated as they left the symbiotic flesh, returning to Hawks and transforming into wings. Realizing what was happening, Izuku reacted: Hawk attacked, quickly grabbing his suit and soaring upward. Izuku had never seen Hawks angry and injured before. He lifted them high and fast. Without wasting any time, Izuku struck Hawk's face with all his might with his forehead, breaking his nose. In the sky, despite the resistance of the air, Hawks refused to let go of his enemy. Izuku tried to escape the professional hero's grip, but Hawk clung to him with a death grip, unwilling to let go under any circumstances. Everything was in play: removing the mask from his mouth, Izuku spat in his face, and Andy took pure pleasure in such a humiliating attack. The tentacles couldn't attack him because of the strong airflow.
"Bingo," thought Izuku, remembering the hidden claws in Mei's gloves. Using his right hand, Izuku released his claws, digging them into his forearms, reaching down to the bone. The intense pain caused Hawks to loosen his grip, which Izuku took advantage of, striking Hawk's face with his left hand.
Izuku's hand, clad in a glove with its claws extended, whistled through the air. The blow landed precisely on the corner of Hawk's jaw, with a dull, bone-crunching sound. The hero's head jerked back, his fingers loosening for a moment.
That moment was enough.
Izuku broke free from the iron grip. For a moment, he hung in the void, at a height from which a fall would mean certain death. His heart skipped a beat, swallowing a lump of ice-cold terror. But his instinct, honed by hundreds of falls, worked faster than his mind. Andy's tentacles shot down, clinging to the nearest ledge, to an advertising billboard, to the wall of the building itself. Not gracefully, but with wild, desperate force, pulling his body away from Hawks.
Keigo, stunned by the blow, his face covered in blood, instinctively flapped his wings, trying to stabilize himself. But one wing trembled—Izuku's claws had damaged not only the muscles of his forearm, but also, apparently, some kind of delicate nerve connection that controlled his meta-ability. His flight became unstable.
Izuku didn't look back. He swung on his tentacles like a spider on a web and pushed off the wall with force, flying over to the roof of a neighboring, lower building. The landing was hard, he tumbled, dampening his momentum, and immediately jumped to his feet, barely keeping his balance. The entire right side of his torso burned with dozens of lacerations. Andy worked feverishly, stitching the flesh together and removing foreign fragments of feathers, but his resources were running out. The pain clouded his consciousness.
Despite such a fierce and bloody battle, Izuku noticed Hawk flying toward him without slowing down. His flight speed had slowed, but even that did not stop him from pursuing. His wings had shrunk in size, and his hands were now long red swords made of feathers.
"I have to neutralize him and run away," Izuku thought, accepting the fight offered by Hawks. This time, he did not use his feathers because of his limited flight. Landing on the roof, Hawk, breathing heavily, pointed his sword at his enemy.
"You've convinced me: you really are extraordinary, as many say. Now let's finish what we started." Izuku stood in a fighting stance, ready to attack with his claws.
"Be careful, I have concerns about his feathers. He will use them during the fight." Warned, Izuku saw how Hawk's clean heroic costume was stained with his own blood, and his model face expressed nothing but anger and aggression.
Hawks rushed forward first, trying to pierce his enemy. Izuku dodged the predictable attack, grabbing the middle of the sword and wrenching it out of Hawk's hands. Taken aback by the unexpected move, Hawk flapped his wings and retreated. Despite his quick reaction, his opponent was able to snatch his sword. Izuku held the sword made of feathers and pointed his finger demonstratively before breaking it over his knee.
Hawks tensed even more: physically, they were evenly matched, but his enemy had a slight advantage in strength. Villains never played by the rules; everyone knew that, including the heroes. But who cares about rules when your life is on the line and the battle is to the death? Hawks exhaled, closing his right eye. The battle had lasted longer than he had anticipated, and the longer he dragged it out, the fewer chances he had; he had greatly underestimated his opponent and paid the price.
Not expecting any attacks, Izuku attacked, releasing his claws. Hawks swung his sword, trying to deliver a slashing blow, but he kept dodging or blocking with his only protected spot — the armor on his forearm. Hawks had a hard time with the enemy's attacks, who was pushing him back with his pace. Waiting for the right moment, Izuku read his movements, and on every fifth strike, he swung his sword for a sweeping blow. Anticipating this move, Izuku knocked his sword out of his hands with an elbow strike to his wrist. Hawks cried out in pain, then had his face slashed by claws; the sudden pain made him close his eyes, losing his vision.
"Finish him !" came a voice from inside, but instead Izuku tripped him.
"Ghaaaa!!!" Izuku screamed. He was attacked so suddenly that he didn't even have time to react. With one quick, precise blow, his left arm was broken, and the momentum from the blow was so strong that it threw him off the roof.
"Are you okay?" asked Hawk's rescuer. She saw her partner, badly injured and barely standing, which meant that the one she was looking for was here.
"I've been better. Don't let him get away," Hawks croaked, using his sword as a support. Mirko didn't wait for thanks and quickly jumped off the roof, landing with a thud on the ground. In excruciating pain, Izuku tried to walk away, leaning his right hand against the wall. His breathing and concentration faltered, giving way to panic, which acted as a great fear of losing. His tendons slowly recovered, painfully restoring ligaments; every cell and muscle made him want to scream in pain, but Izuku's pain threshold was above average. He didn't want to scream or whine, he just wanted to leave and forget the whole nightmare he had seen today.
Without saying a word, Mirko ran at Izuku with all her might. She leaped upward in one big jump, using her right leg, raising her foot vertically, she mimicked an axe strike, hitting the ground with her metal heel and leaving a crater in the concrete. Tentacles emerged from Izuku's body and grabbed her by the shin, throwing her against the nearest wall. Unlike their first fight, Mirko was much better prepared, and she took any blows as if they were cushions.
"Like hitting a pillow," she barked, instantly rushing into battle. Her slashing kicks were a deadly weapon. After their first fight, Izuku watched her fights at night, trying to find her Achilles' heel, and he found it. Her fighting style specialized in aggressive leg pressure; she rarely used her hands, preferring her legs. Despite this, she was still a formidable opponent. One strong kick to the head would be enough to crack a skull. Izuku didn't take any chances, attacking with extreme caution and restraint.
"In theory, if we defend and counterattack wisely, we can emerge victorious," Andy said, reading his thoughts aloud. Footwork in the stance was an extremely important element against an opponent like Mirko. Unlike Hawks, she was significantly inferior in intelligence, winning through physical strength.
"The longer I drag out the fight, the worse it is for me," Izuku thought, overcome with panic. Chaotic and unrelated thoughts floated into his head like unnecessary garbage, interfering with the fight. Taking advantage of the chaos in her opponent's head, Mirko didn't stand on ceremony and attacked first. Her deadly legs swung over his head and torso, fast and accurate, honed like a sharp knife. Izuku dodged as best he could, and fortunately successfully, until she began to demonstrate her flexibility and breakdancing skills.
Holding herself up with her hands, she demonstrated an extraordinary level of body control, preventing Izuku from counterattacking. He blocked and attacked with one hand, while his left hand was broken and recovering, and he had no time. Five minutes of fierce fighting brought Izuku nothing but shortness of breath and Mirko's increasing pace.
"I could do this all day!" she shouted, grinning. She prepared her vertical moon strike, and Izuku was ready, having studied her behavior and attacks. She missed, and using his tentacles, he was able to turn her 180 degrees and strike her unprotected back. The blow was extremely weak due to fatigue. Mirko reacted instantly to the blow, sending him two kicks. Izuku had to take two steps back to avoid being hit by Japan's strongest woman.
"Time for big brain," Andy smiled, understanding the carrier's tactics. Pulling the left side of his body back, Izuku stood on his right side, stretching his right arm forward, breathing calmly and without hesitation. Everything was calculated to perfection; even the position of his feet mattered in this situation.
"What kind of stupid stance is that?" she grunted, rushing forward with her fists. Izuku had anticipated this and blocked each of her punches with his forearm and elbow. The further she advanced with her fists, the further Izuku took steps back, increasing the distance between them. Izuku was amazed by her level of professionalism: in one series of blows, she landed six accurate hits, which Izuku had difficulty defending against. In addition to the series of blows, she added low kicks; they were dangerous, and the tentacles grabbed Mirko's leg, forcing her to shift her weight to one leg. Izuku seized the moment and struck her chest with all his might; the force of the blow was enough to throw her back several meters. She clutched her chest and smiled even wider, while Izuku began to breathe more heavily from the stress and exertion. He also stretched his right arm forward, and she lunged at him, now actively using her legs. With backward steps and quick cuts across the distance, he tired her out so he could seize the right moment and attack between her series of moves. There was a gap in her defense between attack series, and she was unprotected while moving, which provided an opportunity to attack: he struck her in the kneecap, shaking her and causing her to lose her balance, until...
"Aghah!" Izuku screamed. Hawks had been watching their fight the whole time, waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in from behind and leave several cuts. From the pain and pressure, Izuku fell to the ground, feeling excruciating pain from his broken left arm and the cuts and stab wounds from Hawks. With his last ounce of strength, Izuku crawled toward the exit of the alley until Mirko approached from behind and broke both his knees.
The crunch was deafening, echoing loudly in his skull. The pain, sharp and all-consuming, pierced him with such force that his consciousness slipped away for a moment, plunging into white noise. He didn't scream; the air simply escaped from his lungs in a quiet, hoarse groan. His body went limp, refusing to obey him. His legs, those faithful supports that had carried him through so many dangers, turned into two shapeless, burning loads.
Mirko stood over him, her breathing slightly rapid, but her face expressing only cold satisfaction at a job well done. She leaned over, her metal shoulder pads glinting in the dim light.
"That's it, the show's over," she said in a voice that left no room for doubt. "Hold him, Keigo."
Hawks took handcuffs out of his pocket and, waiting for them to close around his wrists, Izuku took a desperate step. Tentacles from his back pulled the two heroes toward his body, only to explode a bunch of sharp symbiotic whips the next second, throwing them in different directions. Four tentacles came out from his back, heading for the wall, but the symbiotic tentacles weren't that fast, especially in their weakened state. Mirko, without thinking, ran towards the enemy, kicked him in the side, grabbed him by the hips, and threw him onto her small shoulders, ramming his body into the concrete wall.
"Mirko, get out of there!" Keigo shouted. Reluctantly, Mirko had to obey the order of her partner and hero, who was higher in rank than her. She quickly left the room, allowing her partner to finish the main work. The Hawks directed most of his feathers at the gas cylinders, filling the room with gas in a matter of seconds.
BOOM...
The explosion shattered the silence of the night, tearing a deafening, furious roar from the city's chest. Windows in neighboring buildings rattled, yielding to the pressure of the shock wave. Yellow-orange flames burst from the opening of the former kitchen, licking the ceiling and throwing a rain of sparks, brick fragments, and burning debris into the alley. The sirens of parked cars wailed in unison, painting the chaos with alarming red and blue flashes.
The hawks flew a few meters away, crouching behind a trash can. Mirko covered her face with her hand; her armor was covered in soot. There was a deafening ringing in her ears.
"Tell me, was it necessary to kill him?" Her voice, usually so confident, sounded strained as it fought through the roar and ringing.
The hawks raised its head. Its eyes, reflecting the dancing flames, showed neither regret nor triumph. Only an icy, pragmatic emptiness.
"There was no other way to defeat him," he hissed, each word chiseled from steel.
He rose, ignoring the pain in his broken ribs, and looked at the burning hell he had created. No living organism, even one with accelerated regeneration, could survive such an explosion in a confined space, having been beaten half to death. The job was done.
But at that very moment, as the words for his report began to form in his mind, something happened that shattered his icy confidence.
The flames in the doorway began to die down due to the safety systems. Then the fire receded with a hissing, whistling sound, as if a giant chest were breathing in. From the center of the raging fire, from the very heart of the explosion, rose a black, shapeless mass.
It did not burn. It devoured the flames. Tongues of fire licked at it, but left no trace of soot, only slightly illuminating it from within with a crimson, hellish glow. The mass grew, pulsating, taking on a form that made the former appearance of the Silent Phantom seem like a toy.
"What... what is it?" Mirko's voice sounded uncertain for the first time in many years.
Two slit-like eyes cut through the black void, burning with a pure, inhuman white light. They stared at them, wanting to show who they had awakened.
The mass straightened up, transforming into a three-meter giant. Its black, glossy flesh shimmered like liquid obsidian, covered with rough, armored plates. Not four, but eight massive tentacles grew from its back, each as thick as a human leg. Its jaw opened, revealing several rows of dagger-like teeth and a long, whip-like tongue.
The sound this creature made was not a roar. It was a low-frequency, vibrating growl that shook the asphalt beneath the heroes' feet and made the glass in the surviving windows rattle. It was the sound of absolute, primal hunger. Hunger awakened by pain, betrayal, and the smell of blood.
Andy took a step forward. The slabs under his feet cracked. He moved not with Izuku's agility, but with the relentless, brute force of an icebreaker.
Hawks reacted first. His professional hero instinct overcame the shock. He soared into the air, gathering all his remaining feathers into a deadly swarm.
"Mirko! Get away! It's not him! It's something else!" Hundreds of razor-sharp feathers hissed toward the black giant. An attack capable of riddling an armored personnel carrier with holes in seconds.
Andy didn't even dodge. He simply raised one of his blade tentacles and swept it in front of him. The air swirled. The feathers, hitting an invisible, dense wall of symbiotic matter, froze for a moment, then scattered into black dust, as if their structure had been instantly dissolved. The hawk gasped, feeling as if part of his own essence had simply... disappeared.
The next moment, the tentacle shot out like black lightning. It wrapped around Hawks in midair, squeezing his armor with such force that the metal creaked. The giant pulled the tentacle toward him, drawing the hero into its open mouth.
"NO!" Mirko screamed. She lunged forward, all her strength and fury concentrated in a jump and a heel strike capable of breaking through concrete. The blow landed on Venom's side.
BOOM.
The sound was like hitting an armor-piercing shell against a steel plate. Venom didn't even stagger. He slowly turned his terrifying head toward her. His white slits for eyes narrowed. Another tentacle, like a sledgehammer, lunged at her.
Mirko tried to block it by crossing her arms. It was a mistake. The blow knocked her off her feet, throwing her across the alley like a rag doll. She slammed into the wall with a sickening crunch—this time not of concrete, but of her own bones. She slid to the ground, unconscious, her left arm bent unnaturally.
The hawks struggled, gasping for air, trapped in black clutches. He shot his feathers point-blank, trying to pierce the tentacle, but they only scratched the glossy surface, leaving no trace. He was being brought closer to the mouth. He felt its animalistic, sour breath and saw the reflection of his horror in the monster's white eyes. The black beast grabbed the Hawks by the neck and licked its prey before turning it around and tearing off its wings, causing the Hawks to scream in pain for the whole neighborhood to hear.
Hearing the sounds of sirens and helicopter blades, Izuku disappeared in an unknown direction, defeating two professional heroes from the top ten