Around 9:00 AM – The Same Day
After a grueling morning of hellish warm-up drills, the training camp nestled deep within the mountains still clung to a damp, chilly atmosphere. Even as the sun climbed higher, its pale golden rays filtered weakly through the dense canopy above. The forest breeze carried the scent of wet earth and decaying leaves, mingling with distant birdsong and the faint murmur of a mountain stream - a serene natural symphony starkly at odds with the chaos unfolding in the training area.
The air was thick with exhaustion, sweat, and heavy breathing. Class 1-A was still in the middle of their brutal regimen, bodies pushed far beyond their limits - moving like specters crawling through a man-made purgatory. Groans of pain, the hiss of boiling water, and sporadic explosions echoed across the clearing, creating an atmosphere so tense and suffocating it felt like a sunlit prison with no escape.
Suddenly, from the rugged forest path leading into camp came the rhythmic thud of hurried footsteps and labored breathing. The relative silence was shattered as Class 1-B finally arrived — weary and battered after their trek through the forest. Their uniforms were splattered with mud and leaves, sweat clung to their brows, and a few of them rubbed at sore muscles. Still, compared to the near-catatonic state of Class 1-A, they looked surprisingly lively - eyes bright with curiosity and excitement, blissfully unaware of the nightmare awaiting them.
At their head stood Vlad King, towering and broad-shouldered, his trademark beard glinting under the sun. His voice boomed with the vigor of a drill sergeant:
"Welcome, Class 1-B! From today onward, you'll push your Quirks past their limits -and beyond!"
He paused for effect, scanning his students with a proud yet stern smile, the look of a man about to throw his trainees into the fires of battle.
The students' chatter quickly died as their eyes locked onto the scene before them. Silence fell - a stunned, uneasy silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the crackling of distant flames.
Katsuki Bakugo crouched near a metal drum, his hands submerged in scalding, bubbling water. His face twisted in agony, yet he refused to flinch, enduring the pain to strengthen his tolerance for heat and amplify his explosions. Not far away, Shoto Todoroki sat between a pillar of ice and a roaring blaze, his body trembling as he struggled to balance the extremes of frost and flame. Sweat mingled with steam around him, his expression locked in grim focus.
Meanwhile, Ochako Uraraka was tumbling endlessly inside a zero-gravity sphere of her own making - face pale, eyes spinning, fighting dizziness in an effort to refine her Quirk control.
The entire Class 1-A looked utterly wrecked - bruised, drenched in sweat, groaning as if dragged straight out of the underworld. The sight left Class 1-B slack-jawed, a mix of awe and horror creeping into their expressions.
"U-Um… sensei?" one nervous 1-B student stammered, raising a trembling hand. "Will the Pussycats really be able to supervise both classes at once?"
Before Vlad King could reply, a cheerful voice burst forth.
"Don't you worry!" Ragdoll announced, bouncing into view with her usual infectious energy, arms spread dramatically. "With my Quirk Search, I can track the location and weaknesses of up to a hundred people at once! No one's slipping past me!"
Her enthusiasm brought a flicker of relief - and a few awkward chuckles - but the tension in the air hardly faded.
Moments later came the Pussycats' colorful group introduction: Ragdoll danced in circles; Pixie-Bob conjured playful orbs of earth that hovered and twirled in the air; Mandalay greeted everyone telepathically in her upbeat tone; and Tiger, flexing his rippling muscles beneath the fur, let out a thunderous roar of excitement.
"What am I even watching…" I muttered under my breath. It felt like a comedy skit being performed in the middle of hell.
Off to one side, Guren stood apart from the commotion, his amber eyes scanning the area with cold calculation. He didn't speak, didn't move - just observed. The air around him seemed heavier, colder, exuding an invisible pressure that warned others to keep their distance. Like a predator silently claiming its territory.
Then, with a sudden roar that cut through the murmurs, Tiger shouted:
"Anyone with power-enhancement Quirks come to me!"
His voice cracked like thunder, muscles tensing beneath his suit. The ground itself seemed to tremble as both classes began to move, gathering for the next round of their grueling training.
The air thrummed with a volatile mix of fatigue, anticipation, and dread, the calm before yet another storm of pain.
Yep. Tons of pain.
I didn't want to do all this stupid training to tire myself out, partly because I didn't really use it directly other than abusing my Quirk to get rich - all my victories were due to my planning, but Guren said "There's no way anyone will get favored when I'm here" and dragged me out to train like everyone else.
My training was to constantly transform a large rock into pure gold and vice versa by Aizawa-sensei. Yep. That's it. The reason I wasn't allowed to train in the aspect of turning myself into solid matter and train with Kirishima or Ojiro even though I was a close combat fighter was simply because he wanted me to develop all my abilities to the maximum instead of just specializing in one area passively like that...
Well, at least he was right. And this rock couldn't transform itself.
For once, everything went smoothly. The gray rock turned to a sparkling gold, then returned to its original form as if nothing had happened.
The second time was the same, although my head started to feel dizzy, at least I had completed this transformation.
But the third time, when the rock had just turned gold, a sharp pain ripped through my brain, along with a feeling of difficulty breathing, like being drowned in water without being able to do anything...
But what was worse was that I started to bleed. All the holes on my face, including my mouth, 2 ears, 2 nostrils and 2 eyes, started to bleed slowly and continuously, as if... no, not as if, this was definitely a side effect of overusing my Quirk in such a short period of time.
And once again, this body seemed to be betraying my will by almost "powering down" all of my senses and being "trapped in my own body" like this.
Fuck, this is the most brutal torture I've ever experienced. I could hear the panicked screams from my classmates around me, but the sound seemed to be echoing from a faraway place, distorted by a thick layer of water. The world before my eyes blurred, the red of blood mixed with the green of the trees and the gray of the rocks, forming a chaotic, abstract picture. The pungent taste of iron filled my mouth, overwhelming the fresh air of the mountains.
"Motherfucker, it feels like I'm about to die..."
But it didn't look so bad after all, like if I stopped using my Quirk, this condition would start to disappear slowly. So maybe I just need to lie here for a while longer.
"ONODERA-KUN!" Izuku's worried scream was the first sound to penetrate the thick membranes in my ears.
Following that was Aizawa-sensei's sharp voice. "Everyone stop! Dismiss! Where's the medic?"
I felt someone gently shaking my shoulder, but my body still didn't react. The feeling of being trapped gradually faded away. My senses...slowly returned. The smell of dirt and grass, the whispers of class 1-B, and the familiar obnoxious laughter.
"Hahahaha! Look! Is this the elite class 1-A?" Monoma's voice rang out, not hiding his glee. "You're already vomiting blood after just a little practice! What a weakling!"
"What did you just bark about, you son of a bitch?" Bakugo roared, and a few crackling sounds began to grow louder.
"Bakugay..." I slowly stood up, blood still flowing from my nose and the corners of my eyes, with a frighteningly calm expression. "Move aside. I'll personally teach this son of a bitch a lesson."
My expression was so calm it was chilling, blood still seeping from my eyes and nose like crimson rivers, causing the surrounding space to suddenly freeze as if it had been frozen. Bakugo froze, the rage in his eyes gradually giving way to a complex, unpredictable expression. He took a step back, reluctantly making way for me.
"Fine," he growled, his voice like thunder. "Kill him."
I stepped forward, facing Monoma – who still tried to smirk, though his eyes showed his fear at my bloody appearance. Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu from class 1-B immediately rushed in front of his friend, his body already turning to gleaming steel, his two fists clenched like two sledgehammers.
"You want to touch class 1-B, do you?" he roared, his voice full of challenge. "You'll have to get through me first!"
"How annoying," a lazy, drawn-out voice rang out, cutting through the tense atmosphere like a sharp blade. "Move aside if you don't want me to beat you to death."
Guren, who had been observing furtively all this time, stepped out from the shadows under the tree. He clapped his hands slowly, his familiar smirk on his face again, as if enjoying a good play.
"What a great drama. Instead of arguing like women, why not settle it like men? A real 'friendly' match!"
He rolled his eyes at me, then glanced at the two guys from class 1-B. "I'll be the referee. Just don't let anyone die."
"What a pain," I muttered, but my voice was still full of confidence. "Then let's just make it a two-on-one match, Todoroki-senpai." My declaration stunned the entire class 1-B, eyes widening. "And," I turned to Monoma, holding out my hand still covered in bright red blood, "At least let's shake hands, shall we?"
Of course, this kind of fighting was clearly a bad idea, and everyone but Guren was strongly against it, especially Aizawa and Vlad King. They immediately stepped in to stop the members of both classes - me and Monoma - before anything bad happened, and also asked him to seriously reflect on himself for his unbecoming behavior and for affecting the honor of the other class and the whole class.
"MONOMA!" Vlad King roared, his voice like thunder. "What are you doing? Your attitude is not only embarrassing yourself but also Class 1-B! Apologize now!"
Aizawa also stepped forward, his arresting weapon slightly moving, his bloodshot eyes locked on me. "Onodera, that's enough. Go inside and rest."
Was that brat angry? Yes, he was angry, extremely angry, but he had to endure it, as there was nothing he could do. He mumbled a forced apology to me before being dragged away and scolded by Vlad King. After all, I was an invaluable asset to this plan.
Guren was initially quite disappointed by this. He let out a loud sigh, as if a good play had been cut short. But after thinking about it carefully, when his eyes swept over my bloody appearance, then looked at Monoma's still-angry face as he was dragged away, his mocking smile suddenly disappeared.
He stepped into the middle, the greatsword on his shoulder shifting slightly, creating an invisible pressure that made everyone silent.
"Really..." Guren said, his voice no longer lazy but cold and authoritative. "Kan-sensei is right this time. This childish act should end here."
Everyone, including Aizawa, was surprised by his 180-degree change. He was the one who initiated this match, and now he was the one who objected to this friendly match the most.
"But..." Monoma tried to protest.
"Shut the fuck up, you ignorant bastard," Guren interrupted, looked at him. His amber eyes were fixed on me then. "I proposed a 'friendly' match to see your limits, not to watch a monkey show!"
He turned to speak to everyone, but I knew these words were mainly directed at me.
"One of you just used your Quirk so disorganized that your body self-destructed, the other just used your mouth to provoke, not knowing your own strength. This isn't a match," Guren said, his voice filled with contempt, "this is more like a farce. A pointless waste of resources and time."
He turned around, lazily walking back to his tree. "Improving your Quirk doesn't mean going beyond your limits without stopping. Aizawa-sensei, please adjust your method next time. It's fine to spend more time here, I'll take responsibility."
The atmosphere was completely silent. Guren had extinguished all fighting intentions with just a few words. The teachers breathed a sigh of relief, although they were still confused by his actions.
Only I understood.
He didn't propose the match because he wanted to see a show. He wanted to test me. He wanted to see my reaction when I was cornered, to gauge my level of ruthlessness and recklessness, and when he had enough information, he immediately extinguished it.
Guren... This bastard is really annoying