The night train back from Kyoto to Musutafu was a silent, tense journey for Reiji Kinzoku. Hidden in his seat near the window, he ignored the dark landscape rushing past, his mind consumed by the cold metal cylinder stored in his backpack and the yellowed pages it contained. The confrontation with the guardian, Kaito Ishikawa, had been a baptism by fire, a test he overcame through intelligence and raw power, but which also revealed how dangerous the quest for Dio's legacy truly was.
Ishikawa's fanatical death and the mention of other guardians and lost pages were a constant reminder of the risks. But the reward... the detailed knowledge of the Space Ripper Stingy Eyes, the Vaporization Freezing Technique, and even the sinister science behind the creation of vampire servants... it was power too irresistible to ignore.
Back in the relative safety of his room at the group home, Reiji immersed himself in studying the newly acquired pages. Dio's arrogant script guided him through the mechanics of abilities he had only sensed or glimpsed before.
"The SRSE demands more than brute strength; it demands the control of will over the very liquid essence of the body," he read. "Focus the pressure, feel it build behind the eyes like an imprisoned sun, then release it not as a flood, but as a beam – thin, precise, deadly. Pain is a test; only those who master it are worthy of this weapon."
"To freeze is to steal heat, an act of entropic dominance," another passage detailed. "Channel the cold through your limbs, touch your target, and pull the thermal energy into yourself. Beware, for excessive cold can turn against the unwary master. Finesse, not force, is the key to transforming adversaries into brittle ice statues."
The section on creating servants was disturbing, speaking of blood infusion and forced bonds of loyalty. Reiji read it with a mixture of fascination and cold calculation. Loyal servants would be useful, undoubtedly, but the process seemed complex and risky. For now, he decided to focus on mastering the combat abilities he could use alone.
The abandoned industrial complex became his dedicated training ground. Night after night, he slipped out, seeking the necessary isolation to practice without witnesses.
Mastering the Vaporization Freezing came first, being less inherently painful. He practiced on metal debris, rusty pipes, stagnant pools of water. Slowly, he learned to control the intensity, to create thin layers of ice or to freeze small objects solid with a prolonged touch. He began experimenting tactically – freezing the ground to create slippery traps, touching metal bars until they became brittle enough to be shattered with a blow. The internal chill was still an uncomfortable side effect, a constant reminder of the limits, but he was gaining control.
The SRSE, however, was a different ordeal. The first deliberate attempts, even with the journal's instructions, were agonizing. The pressure behind his eyes was intense, the pain nearly blinding. The shots were wild, inaccurate, often just useless spurts or uncontrolled beams that cut through the air or distant walls. Each use left him with blurred vision, a throbbing headache, and a renewed hunger from the expended energy.
But Reiji was persistent, driven by the promise of power and the ruthless philosophy of Dio absorbed from the journal. "Pain is a test." He endured. "Will is the lens." He focused. Slowly, painfully, progress began. He learned to withstand the pain, to channel the pressure with more intent. The shots started to become more focused, more directed. He practiced on makeshift targets – piles of old tires, collapsed concrete walls, rusty metal drums. The beams began to hit where he aimed more often, leaving thin, precise cuts or smoking holes. It wasn't perfect yet, and the energy cost was still high, but he could feel the control growing. He was forging the weapon.
While training his new skills, he didn't neglect his basic needs. His nightly hunts as the "Blood King" continued, but with a dual purpose. He still needed blood for sustenance and to fuel his growing power, and each confrontation was an opportunity to test his abilities in a real scenario.
He was getting bolder, more confident. His strength and speed continued to increase, though perhaps at a slower rate than in the first few months. He was already a force far beyond normal humans or most low-to-mid-level Quirk users. His reputation in the underworld grew – a swift, silent shadow, sometimes leaving a freezing cold behind, other times an inexplicable cut in metal or concrete near the scene. A powerful, frightening enigma.
It was during one of these nights, perhaps three months after the trip to Kyoto, that Reiji's two worlds – isolated training and urban hunting – collided with the world of pro heroes.
He was tracking a small group of arms dealers operating in a warehouse district slightly less abandoned than his usual training ground. It was a hunt of necessity – he had depleted his energy reserves practicing the SRSE the previous night. He moved across the rooftops, a hooded and masked figure, observing the three men below who were preparing to meet a buyer.
They seemed nervous, one of them had a visible Quirk – hands that looked like rough rock. An interesting challenge to test the freezing, perhaps, Reiji thought. He chose his point of descent, a dark gap between two buildings that would put him directly in their path.
He was about to leap when a different figure entered his keen field of vision. Someone moving with professional stealth on the opposite rooftop, observing the same group. This was no criminal. The posture, the equipment – capture weapon wrapped around the shoulders, distinct yellow goggles – were unmistakable, even at a distance.
An Underground Hero, Reiji identified, a glint of cold interest in his eyes. He didn't recognize the specific individual, but he knew the type – those who operated outside the spotlight, focused on efficiency rather than publicity. This one could be more dangerous than the flashy heroes.
The hero seemed to make a decision. He began to descend from the rooftop, using his capture weapon for a silent movement towards the alley where the dealers were about to make the exchange. Clearly, he planned an ambush.
Reiji had a choice. Retreat and find other prey? Or intervene? The hunger gnawed, and the opportunity to observe (and perhaps test) an Underground Hero up close was tempting. Besides, those dealers were his designated prey for the night. A pang of territorial possessiveness, perhaps an influence from Dio's philosophy of dominance, stirred within him.
He made his decision. The moment the Underground Hero was about to launch his capture weapon at the dealers below, Reiji leaped from the shadows of his own rooftop.
He didn't land silently this time. He landed with a deliberate thud in the middle of the alley, between the surprised dealers and the hero preparing to strike. The tall, hooded, masked figure, appearing from nowhere, made everyone freeze for an instant.
The dealers looked in panic between the hero now visible at the alley entrance and the new threat that had landed among them. Aizawa, for his part, halted his attack, his eyes narrowing behind the yellow goggles as he assessed the unknown figure. Tall, masked, and the pressure emanating from him was palpable, cold, unnatural. Was this the "Blood King" from Tsukauchi's reports?
Reiji ignored the dealers for the moment. His red eyes, glowing faintly behind the slits of the mask, fixed on the Underground Hero. He tilted his head slightly, a gesture of silent challenge.
Aizawa met that intense gaze. He felt the danger instinctively. Whatever this individual's Quirk was, it was powerful. He needed to act fast, before it could be used. He readied his capture weapon and focused his gaze, prepared to activate Erasure.
Reiji sensed the hero's intent, the focus in his eyes. He knew what was coming. A faint, cold smile formed beneath his mask. Try, he thought. See how useless your greatest weapon is against me.
The confrontation was about to begin, not in an empty industrial yard, but in a cramped alley, with frightened criminals as unwilling spectators. The first encounter between the Blood King and Eraser Head.