Leaning back in the sofa chair, something caught my eye. There was a bottle of unopened alcohol sitting on the table beside me. If I weren't sitting in some underground… whatever this place was - fight ring, blood sport, illegal entertainment, something something - I might have been tempted to crack it open. But no. I'll have my first drink another day.
I ignored the bottle and turned my attention to the crowd. Dozens of people were waving slips of paper in the air, shouting and cheering. My curiosity got the better of me, so I focused on one of the tickets. After staring at it for a moment, stopping time for good measure, I saw the contents clearly. Numbers. In rows. Each ticket listed the fighter, the odds, the bet amount, and the potential payout.
Huh. Figures. Gambling is universal. No matter where you go, someone's willing to throw money at a chance. Heck, even kids gamble... gacha games. The thought made me frown as I let time resume, leaning back with a groan at the memory of my poor, poor wallet.
my poor money. Man, I got hit so hard for that.
My attention drifted to the match in progress. Two contenders. One: a mountain of a man with muscles that looked like they had muscles of their own. Classic. The other: a small girl with purple rat ears and a matching tail, twitching behind her. A rat girl. That's… actually kind of cool. Guess all types exist here. Maybe this is a furry's idea of paradise. You could probably marry a literal cat in this world... I mean, wasn't there just a guy with the head of a cat in the police force? Would he be a good kisser? does he get pu-
begin
The massive man lunged forward with a punch that could've put a hole in a brick wall. The rat girl darted between his legs, quick as lightning, nearly sending him off balance. He recovered fast—but not fast enough. She spun mid-dash, launching upward with a sharp kick aimed at his jaw. It connected, but only seemed to annoy him.
"The balls would've been a better target, but whatever," I muttered, already analysing her strategy. It's a habit of mine. Criticising fights keeps me from wanting to slam my head into a wall when people make stupid decisions mid-battle. Like, I mean, I get that they don't have time, or are stressed, but come on, omg.
The muscle mountain charged again, trying to stomp her flat, but she dodged, retreating to the corner of the cage. He roared, finally done playing around, and threw himself forward like a wrecking ball.
That's when my view got blocked.
A drunk brown-haired woman staggered in front of me, her hips swaying in a way that… well, blocked my line of sight completely. I leaned to the side to see around her—just in time for her to sway the same way and block me again, this time closer.
She was… giving me a lap dance. Yep. Definitely giving me a lap dance. Somehow my generic, older, muscular disguise had apparently attracted the attention of a drunk hooker. I'm not even good-looking right now. Or rich. So why?
I prayed to god she'd just leave me alone before I just gave up and kicked her ass. but luck was(n't) on my
Apparently, the gods were in a generous mood today. A man with shark-like skin, probably late twenties, strode over, grabbed her by the arm, and yanked her away from me.
Then he glared at me. "You're hitting on my girl."
Oh, for the love of- Of course, the problem just replaces itself. Of course, this fuck - who saw his drunk ass girlfriend throw herself at me - decides that I'm the one hitting on her... fine, be like that.
"I'd say she was hitting on me," I said with a smug grin. if you are going to be annoying. I've got no qualms with being a bitch. "If you hadn't stepped in, she'd probably be giving me a blowy by now."
His face went red. He grabbed my collar, dragging me in close enough for me to smell his breath. And trust me, it was bad enough to qualify as a war crime.
"You wanna die?"
I smiled thinly. "If you don't put me down, one of us will end up in the afterlife. Spoiler—it won't be me." I calmly threatened. After a second of no action on his part, I noticed a slight tremble in his hand, indicating he wasn't much. Just a cuck acting tough.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked. Yeah, that's more generic than the dad getting the milk thing, speaking of dads.
"No? Are you some sort of bastard son of mine?" I quipped, taking full advantage of my older appearance. I mean, I looked old enough to be his dad. sooooo
He let go of my collar, seething with rage. "You, me, in the cage. Now," he spat.
"The winner gets a blow job!" the drunk woman chimed in, even though she was the entire reason for this, and she knew it...
Actually, if there is a person who deserves to get folded like an omelette. It was her.
...
you know what, fuck it!
Without hesitation, I turned around and decked her in the gut, watching her keel over in pain. Before she could breathe, my second punch cracked her across the face, sending her sprawling, knocked the fuck out. Punching bitches who deserve it, is like itching that one scratch. It's always worth it.
The shark guy just… stared. Then he muttered something and walked off toward the cage. On his way, he kicked her in the ribs. Very healthy relationship they had going. I followed, pausing just long enough to give her a parting kick.
whaaat? It's not like she's gonna feel it.
---
"This is quite the fun thing, isn't it?" I asked, addressing my opponent - the shark guy.
He was a wreck. Battered, bruised, burnt, zapped - every type of damage I could inflict except throwing a piano, sadly - but now, after all of me, he swayed on his feet, minutes from having a good ol nap. on the hard concrete floor. Yet despite that, the dumb asses hands were still raised in a guard. Resilient much?
"Y-you…" he growled, glaring at me with bloodshot eyes. His voice wavered, while his body was barely holding up, which, honestly, makes sense due to the amount of abuse I laid upon his ass.
"Me?" I replied, pointing a finger at myself, my voice dripping with mockery. All the watchers could tell that I was enjoying his suffering.
My actions confused him (perhaps due to my not 16-year-old girl look), but he continued past it.
"What's... what's your goddamn quirk!?" he finally spat out, his desperation leaking through.
And at this desperate question, I almost chuckled. "Oh? You want to know my quirk?" I asked, taking a slow step toward him. making him go on edge, like that'll do anything
"Alright, I'll tell you. My quirk is…" I leaned in slightly, letting the anticipation build. "Punching. Really, really fucking hard." his face morphed from shorthand confusion to extreme fear as my fist just ignited into flames, hot enough to burn him from a distance.
"FALCON... PAAAAAAAUUUUNCH!"
---
in the aaarms of the angle - shark guy, 2025 - 2025
---
"Welp, he's dead." I brushed off my hands, sending a puff of ash scattering from what little remained of Shark Guy. - R.I.P - he won't be missed.
His entire body was now a pile of dust, every ember... dusted. hah, get it?
"Winner: Dom! (best name ever)" the announcer's voice boomed across the arena, gaining groans and sighs from the crowd. Most of these poor gamblers had placed their hopes—and money—on Shark Guy, despite the one-sided beatdown I'd been dishing out from the start. It was almost adorable how much faith they had in him. Almost.
"WHOOOAAA!" a woman's voice cheered loudly, louder than the sea of despair.
I turned my head toward the source of the sound and froze for a moment. Hold the fucking phone. Was that… the drunk woman? The same one who started this whole mess?
A small smile fell on my face as I thought through the absurdity of what that entailed. Is she a 5D chess player? I wondered before shaking my head, refusing to believe she was smart in any way. nah, I just gave her memory loss from the punch.
I stepped out of the cage/ring, whatever, my eyes scanning the crowd of onlookers and contenders. Most of them avoided eye contact, thinking I'm some douche, which is fair. But then, my gaze landed on someone.
"finally," i muttered under my breath.
Standing at the back of the crowd was a man wearing a red plague doctor mask, his gaze intently staring at me. seems like i caught his attention. i thought as overhaul started to make his way to me, but, no.
i came here to, find overhaul and have fun beating his ass, use him to test a few things. then extract info on where eri was. so, this disguise is no longer needed. goodbye, tom.
With a snap of my fingers, the world around me came to an abrupt halt. They all fell silent, people all around freezing mid-motion as my form morphed back to my original looks. it was good to not be an old man, even if he was buff.
i approached Overhaul, who remained a statue, his hand half-raised, a single glove of his, halfway off. this sneaky little guy was going to secretly use his quirk on me? damn, wonder why though, hmm.
my thoughts drifting off into a multitude of scenarios if he had gotten the chance to talk to me, would he try to threaten me to be on his side or something? who knows.
Overhaul's sharp eyes darted around the arena, immediately registering the unnatural stillness that surrounded us. He stood in a void of silence, the sharp change causing his entire demeanor to shift as his muscles tensed ever so slightly. His glove had slipped off completely now, but he made no move to attack, his eyes roamed over me as he noticed that i was still moving.
"who are you?" he asked, his tone cold but steady. He didn't see me as a threat, not yet.
I gave him a faint smile, just enough to be unsettling. "My name is Shiro," I replied, letting the words linger in the still air. I didn't elaborate further, just tilted my head slightly, watching him process the name and the situation. - that being time has fucking stopped
his eye flicked around before landing back on me, already getting an idea of things. "is this your doing?"
My eyes roamed the place before locking with his, my arm gesturing to the surroundings, "how everything is frozen, yet you are not? Yes. yes, it is..." My voice trailed off, not giving information besides the barest of information, but enough to lead him to answers that would benefit me. His face quickly shifted through a mix of concern, fear, and worry. before quickly morphing into a mask of naturality. He knew I had the upper hand, and he didn't like it.
Slowly, Overhaul began moving toward me, each step deliberate, his suspicion radiating from him like heat. "I see," he said, his voice low and careful. "What is it you want from me?" His tone was calm, but the faint echo of his footsteps betrayed his intent. He was hoping to catch me off guard.
I raised a hand, palm up, as though offering a handshake. "I want information," I said simply.
He stopped, momentarily thrown off by the gesture. His eyes flicked down to my hand, narrowing slightly in confusion. "What… kind of information?" he asked cautiously
"Information on the child named Eri, I know you have quite a bit on her" I smiled widely as the words left my mouth.
That got him as his calm demeanour cracked as his eyes widened, panic flickering in his gaze. He quickly schooled his expression, but the damage was done. I could see the calculations running through his mind, the frantic search for answers. How does she know about Eri?The quirk-erasing prototype was new. No one should've linked it to me, or even traced it back to Eri.
His body tensed as he made his decision. She's a threat. I need to eliminate her.
In one fluid motion, his hand shot out toward mine. His finger slammed into my palm, and I felt the faint pulse of his quirk activating. An attempt to make me bloodpaste would have worked on anyone. Too bad im not just anyone.
Instead of me exploding in gore, the reverse happened, his arm detonated in a sickening explosion of blood and flesh, the force ripping apart his entire arm and part of his shoulder "Tsk tsk, that's not how deals work." I shook my head, as if I was condoning a child.
Overhaul stumbled back, clutching at the ragged stump of his arm, screaming as one should if their arm went poof.
"That's such bad manners, I guess we'll have to do it the painful way." He flinched as I crouched in front of him, gripping his head firmly between my hands. A swirling portal of purple and black energy flickered to life beside me.
"Actually, I was always going to do it like this. your such a bad person that I couldn't just not use you as training. I hope tampering with neurons isn't as hard as it sounds"
I threw him through the portal before following behind. The purple edges of said dimensional hole closed, leaving no trace as time resumed for all.
leaving a room of extremely confused people as there was now a blood splatter on the floor, and "hey, where did Dom go?" the drunk woman asked, a small frown on his face. i mean, she flirted with him for a reason.
A/N
I remember you're genocides.