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[New song]
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| A month later… |
…
It was Saturday morning, and life in the city went on as usual.
People strolled with friends or family for outings, heroes patrolled the streets while signing autographs, and some poor souls trudged to their jobs despite it being the weekend.
Such was the cycle of life in the asphalt jungle. Just another day in the city of Shizuoka.
And just like any other day in a society filled with superpowered individuals, evil ran rampant.
"Stay away, you bastards, or I'll leave you with so many holes that your fans will mistake you for strainers!" a man covered in spikes—like a walking porcupine—snarled as he found himself surrounded by heroes.
One stepped forward, his suit entirely white except for the helmet, which resembled a robotic bird. His most striking detail, however, lay in the massive pair of angelic wings spread wide behind him, like an angel.
He was the hero Pidgael, number 257 in the hero ranking.
"Surrender now, foolish villain Edgehog! Your days of evil are numbered!" He said as he pointed a finger with solemn elegance.
"What's with that cringy-ass line!" Edgehog bellowed. Then, he curled inward, spikes aiming in every direction like a sea urchin. "Fine… if you won't leave me alone… then die!"
The heroes' eyes widened.
Before they could act, Edgehog let out a guttural roar:
"Omniversal Perforation!"
An instant later, his spikes shot outward in every direction, creating an expansive wave of piercing projectiles while new ones sprouted immediately to replace them.
"Watch out!"
"Protect the civilians!"
"Quick!"
The heroes reacted quickly and scrambled.
A woman's nails grew into a massive wall of gleaming steel, blocking the volley of spikes from hitting the crowd.
Hand Breakable, number 213 in the hero ranking.
Another slammed his palms together, generating a shimmering bubble of energy that expanded to shield a group of kids. The spikes hammered it, the barrier trembling violently before shattering once the last projectile hit—just in time to leave them unharmed.
Plasma Pop, number 344 in the hero ranking.
Pidgael, however, wasn't so lucky. Spotting a group of students watching from too close to the approaching wave, he leapt forward, spreading his wings as a shield.
But unlike another, more famous winged hero, his feathers weren't weapons nor as hard as metal—they were just wings.
"Argh!"
The spikes pierced with ease, some lodging in his back despite his suit's protection, though, fortunately, it did help prevent them from getting too deep.
"Damn you…!" he growled, blood dripping from his feathers. As civilians were pushed back to safety, he and the other heroes regrouped back in front of Edgehog, glaring at him in anger.
The villain laughed manically. "Hahaha! Now you see the difference? Your pathetic little Quirks can't—"
-CHAKACHAN!-
Suddenly, the sound of a roaring electric guitar split the air, silencing everything.
Heads whipped toward its source, eyes wide.
"There!"
"Who's that?!"
"Could it be…?"
A figure stood imposingly atop a streetlight.
Arms crossed, perfectly balanced despite the narrow footing, and a black hoodie that hid the figure's features completely, giving it a mysterious air.
Beside him floated a guitar and a pair of speakers, humming with power.
The instant they all saw him, the crowd erupted.
"Is that—?"
"Yeah, the mysterious guitarist!"
"He showed up again!"
"Hell yeah, this was getting boring!"
"That guy knows how to make a good show!"
The heroes exchanged puzzled looks at the sudden outburst.
"Mysterious guitarist?" Pidgael asked, baffled.
"Oh, I know about him," Plasma Pop replied with a snort, eyeing the person in the lightpost disdainfully. "Some nobody who shows up during our fights to play his songs in the background. He's been getting a bit popular lately, but the guy's nothing more than a dirty vigilante, using his Quirk without a license and even participating directly in villain take-downs."
"So, a smart-ass, huh?" Hand Breakable cracked her knuckles before slamming a fist into her palm, itching to knock him down. "Well, he's not meddling with our arrest, that's for sure. I don't want the hero commission paying us less because some vigilante butted in without asking."
Right away, she began walking toward the mysterious guitarist.
"Hold on, Hand Breakable !" Plasma Pop grabbed her shoulder, yanking her back. "While he has sometimes butted in, it was most of the time when the heroes were at a disadvantage. He seems to care more about his show than about actually taking the villain down!"
"So? He still needs a beating."
Pidgael walked up to them, calming her.
"Leave it, Hand Breakable. He may be someone we need to arrest later, but there's an actual villain in front of us right now. Let's deal with the bigger threat and then see how we deal with that one later."
"Tsk!"
While the heroes debated, the porcupine villain ground his teeth.
"Who are you?!" he roared, turning his fury toward the stranger who dared to interrupt.
The guitarist gave no reply. He stood tall on the streetlight, arms still crossed, radiating elegance as if answering would only cheapen his presence.
That silence only made Edgehog angrier.
"So you're just gonna stand there, huh?!"
He raised his arm, spikes bristling and locking onto the figure above.
"In that case… BEGONE!"
With a shout, a dozen needles fired—fast as bullets—straight for the guitarist.
The heroes flinched, some ready to leap forward to save the fool chasing clout.
But they froze when the impossible happened.
The spikes stopped midair. Every bit of momentum vanished as though time itself had frozen for them.
"...What?!" Gasps rippled through the crowd. Heroes, civilians, even Edgehog stared in disbelief at the guitarist, who now had one arm calmly extended forward.
It didn't stop there, however.
The instant the stranger clenched his fist—
CRACK!—
All the frozen needles shattered in unison, crumbling into harmless fragments that rained down onto the street.
Edgehog's jaw dropped. His sweat shone under the sun. "I–Impossible! My spikes are hard as stone! How could they—"
"Enough, Edgehog, your vile crimes end here!"
"Surrender now, or face the beatdown of your life!"
He was cut short as suddenly the trio of superheroes dashed at him, forcing him to focus back on them.
"You fools, even though you saw the difference between us, you still think you stand a chance?! Very well, I'll skewer all of you as you wish so much!"
And like that, the battle began.
Back on his lightpost, the guitarist lowered his arm, unbothered by the fact that he'd just been attacked, and instead simply glaring at the battle below in silence for a few seconds, until suddenly—
-Bzzz!-
The speakers at his side powered on, letting out a low but prominent hum, returning the attention of the masses to him, some even looking expectant.
With all eyes back on him, he tapped the lightpost twice with his feet, and as if on cue, suddenly a heavy bassline rumbled out, slow at first, but growing, building momentum.
In that instant, everyone understood.
The performance had begun.
—{Playing: Animal I Have Become}—
Excitement surged through the crowd. Fans started bobbing their heads, phones shot up to record, and the atmosphere thickened with anticipation.
The guitar floated into the man's hands like a weapon returning to its master. A sharp riff cut through the bass, the sound raw and powerful, adding fuel to the rising storm, coupled with powerful battery beats that only filled the song with more power.
Feet stomped. Shouts of hype rippled through the bystanders.
And then—
{"I can't escape this hell."}
A distorted voice poured from the speakers, deep and static-laced, transformed by a voice changer, but instead of breaking the immersion, it enhanced it—electric, mechanical, perfect for the song's mood.
{"So many times I've tried."}
Some people reacted, looking at each other, surprised, before glancing back at the lone figure of the guitarist high above, their smiles rising.
{"But I'm still caged inside."}
The sound swelled, instruments building momentum. Everyone could feel the peak approaching.
{"Somebody get me through this nightmare—"}
The air vibrated, the whole street holding its breath.
{"I can't control myself."}
The drop was here. The battle had turned into a stage.
{"SO WHAT IF YOU CAN SEE—"}
…
°
°
°
| Taka's POV: |
…
'Hell yeah, my aura is shooting up tonight!'
Watching the crowd move in unison as the drop hit, I grinned behind my mask.
I already had another angle recording, my aura projection keeping the camera steady in the best spot, while also helping me balance on the lightpost, and also stopping my speakers from plummeting to the ground.
Once I uploaded this, not only would I rake in a huge bonus in aura, but my passive income would spike back up—maybe even higher than before. If all went well, I'd hit 2000 aura by the end of the month.
Totally worth the prep.
Truth was, I'd had this song ready almost a month ago. The only reason I'd held off was because of the skill I'd unlocked back then—
True Speaking.
That skill cranked up my singing talent and voice control. Combine that with Connoisseur, and it would've been a crime not to add the lyrics and some of the instruments—those were literally this song's strongest weapons when put together right.
So I spent the last month grinding—learning to sing, learning to play the other instruments nicely enough so I could record at least one good try, and then use it as playback while I did the guitar.
At first, I doubted it was worth the time. My earnings had been dropping day by day, the longer I stayed out of the spotlight. Honestly, I thought I'd screwed up.
But looking now—seeing people jumping, dancing, losing themselves in the music—
I knew I'd made the right call.
No—this was the best call.
{"So what if you can see the darkest side of me?"}
So this is what it felt like to be a rockstar, huh?
It wasn't too bad!
Feeling my hands flow along with the song, hitting each note like thunder, the sweat dropping through my eyebrows, the sound of people vibing, it was amazing.
That, coupled with the epic battle between the team of heroes against the villain going down there, only made this greater.
For a moment, I thought: Should I dedicate myself to this instead of being a hero?
Honestly, this was great, seeing the people enjoy what I was playing, seeing masses dancing and jumping in unison to a song that I personally liked a lot, and that I was playing, it was addicting.
But that was the problem.
This wasn't my song.
My smile faltered a bit.
'Well, does it matter? They are liking it, and I'm raking aura like crazy.'
As long as my power grew, it didn't really matter if this was cheating or not.
I couldn't bother to worry about honesty, not when UA was some months from now on. I needed to gather as much power as I could before I had to begin fighting the big bads.
Yeah, what am I thinking?
I should just continue playing.
{"I can't escape this heeeeell"}
{"This animal…"}
{"This animal…"}
…
The people loved it, sure, but now that I thought about it, should I really be proud of achieving this?
The only thing I had done was reconstruct the song from memory, and then recorded most of the other instruments to play in the background while I took care of the guitar.
This wasn't mine.
I was just copying what existed, or what exists somewhere else.
It felt a bit empty, now that I thought about it.
My fingers faltered slightly.
Was all this aura I was gaining really mine?
Don't misunderstand me, I loved power. Right now, I am incomparable to a few months ago when I unlocked my system.
But, a part inside of me… maybe the part that had been brainwashed… that part, couldn't help but think... Is this power earned through copying others, really the type of power I want to earn?
I had the skills, the talent, and the power to do it on my own.
So why couldn't I?
Yeah. Why couldn't I?
My fingers increased in speed, feeling something akin to anger sprout inside me.
Then, a notification popped up.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
[You've taken a step forward in your path to true aura farming, for the True Aura Farmer does not steal. The Aura farmer creates, shows, and inspires.]
Conditions for completion:
▸Develop your own song.
▸Once done, present it in a place with more than a thousand people.
▸Have people enjoy your song.
Reward: +1000 Aura | Gain the skill [Imaginary technique: My Theme]
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
'A song of my own?'
That thought quietly crossed my mind as I read the mission, while my fingers started nearing the end of the song.
Soon, my voice began dimming in the background, and the notes I was playing became weaker.
The crowd began calming down, enjoying the end of the song.
And, as I looked down, seeing the heroes still busy with the villain despite being three against one, I sighed.
Then, the next second—
-Bam!-
I used my aura projection to slam him right into the ground, immobilizing him.
I couldn't have him continue fighting when the song had ended, right?
While I was at it, I also crushed all his spikes, not entirely, but just the tips, so he couldn't use them like weapons nor regenerate them like earlier.
But with him unconscious, I don't know whether he'd do something like that.
Well, not like it mattered.
As the heroes rushed him, I heaved a sigh, and finally, I put an end to the song.
"Huff…"
That sure had been exhausting.
As the hum of the guitar faded away, I cleaned the sweat on my forehead with my forearm before glancing at the people below, who were watching me with wide eyes.
'I suppose I gotta end this properly.'
I let go of my guitar, letting it float beside the speakers, and bowed in one fluid, practiced motion.
The crowd cheered, and a small smile appeared on my face.
'Next time, it'll be something that's truly mine you're cheering for.'
With that, I turned around, preparing to leave once again.
But just as I was about to jump away, using my aura to fly away, a technique that I had picked up not long ago, and that hadn't been that hard to figure out—
-Wheee-oooooh-wheeee-ooooh-
Police cars swarmed the street below. Faster than I had been expecting.
'All this for one villain?' I sneered, amused at their quick reaction to what was not that big deal of a villain.
Regardless, I floated my hidden camera into my pocket and prepared to fly off—
"Mysterious Guitarist, stop where you are! You are charged with illegal Quirk usage! Come down without resistance!"
'Huh?' I paused, then snapped my head to them. 'Hold on, they are after me?!'
I blinked, too stunned to do anything.
Then, a taser flew my way, making me dodge.
It wasn't hard, but it allowed me to snap out of it.
And the worst came right after.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
[Sometimes those who shine too bright draw jealousy—and the desire to bring them down. Now, you face your first hurdle with society. Your moments of pure aura have displeased some people, and you've landed on their wanted list. Time for a tactical retreat!]
Conditions for completion:
▸Run away.
▸ Farm aura while avoiding capture.
▸ Evade the police's detection for at least 10 minutes.
Reward: Aura gain (amount varies depending on how cool you look while escaping) | Skill gained:[Good job beating me… But that was merely a clone!]
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
"Shit!"
...
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-To be Continued…-
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(A/N: Shit just hit the fan, and it made a mess. I liked this part of the story a lot, it was quite fun to write, so I hope it's also fun to read.)