Inosuke sat cross-legged on the cold metal table in the center of the interrogation room, his boar mask still firmly in place.
He wasn't handcuffed—mostly because the first pair they tried had been snapped in half when he flexed to "test their strength." The second pair? He bit them off.
The police had stopped trying after that.
The room stank of paper, coffee, and too many people pretending they weren't scared. Outside the two-way mirror, shadows moved—police officers and pro heroes alike—whispering like a pack of gossiping squirrels.
The door swung open with a slow creak.
A man with messy black hair and a scarf wrapped loosely around his shoulders stepped inside first, his half-lidded eyes fixed on Inosuke like he was already tired of this conversation. Behind him, a tall, lean man with sharp features entered—Edgeshot—his calm presence completely at odds with the wild energy in the room. Bringing up the rear was Kamui Woods, his wooden frame creaking faintly as he shut the door behind them.
Aizawa took the chair across from Inosuke and didn't even bother with introductions. "Alright. You're going to tell us what happened."
Inosuke tilted his head. "Finally! Are you the leader of the Demon City warriors? Took you long enough."
Kamui frowned. "Demon… City?"
Edgeshot stepped forward, folding his arms. "This is Musutafu. And you just killed a villain in broad daylight."
"Yeah," Inosuke said flatly, as though they were congratulating him for breathing. "You're welcome."
"That's not how this works," Aizawa said, voice bone-dry. "Do you understand you took a life?"
"Yes," Inosuke shrugged. "It was a demon. Demons eat people. You kill demons. What's the problem?"
The three exchanged brief looks—Aizawa's barely changing, Kamui's brows furrowing, Edgeshot's expression tightening.
"That 'demon' was a villain," Kamui said. "A criminal with a Quirk."
"What's a Quirk?" Inosuke asked.
"It's a superpower," Edgeshot explained evenly. "Almost everyone has one."
Inosuke leaned forward, voice rising with excitement. "Almost everyone's a demon? That's why this city smells so weird!"
"No," Aizawa said flatly.
The wood hero crossed his arms. "Witnesses said you jumped from a four-story building without hesitation, landed on top of the villain, severed both arms before…" He hesitated. "…beheading him."
"Yeah!" Inosuke nodded enthusiastically. "Perfect strike! His head came clean off—" he made a slicing motion with both hands "—like chopping a cabbage!"
Edgeshot's face didn't move, but Kamui looked mildly horrified. Aizawa just blinked slowly.
"…That's not how we operate here," Edgeshot said at last.
"Then you're stupid."
Kamui bristled. "Kid, you've got skill, but this isn't the way! That was a villain you fought, but heroes protect people—they don't kill!"
"Protect them from demons by letting the demons live?!" Inosuke barked out a laugh. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!"
Aizawa leaned back, wrapping his scarf loosely in one hand. "You're either delusional or from somewhere very far from here. Which is it?"
Inosuke tilted his head, as if the question was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard."Both," he said proudly.
Kamui blinked. "…Both?"
"Yeah. I'm from way, waaay far away—so far you couldn't walk there in a hundred days. And also…" He jabbed a thumb into his own chest. "…I'm not 'delusional.' I'm right."
Aizawa sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Alright. Let's start simple. Name."
"Inosuke Hashibira."
"Age?"
"Uh… years?" Inosuke frowned under the mask. "I dunno. Old enough to kill demons. That's what matters."
Edgeshot exchanged a look with Aizawa that said we're going to get nowhere fast.
Aizawa kept going. "Where exactly is 'far away'? City? Prefecture?"
"Mountain."
"Mountain…?"
"Yeah. Big one. Rocks. Trees. Boars. Demons. Sometimes you can hear the wind screaming if you listen long enough." He grinned under the mask. "That's when you know a good fight's coming."
Kamui shifted uncomfortably, wood creaking. "You… lived alone up there?"
"Not alone." Inosuke's voice softened slightly, though it was hard to tell if it was sentiment or pride. "I had boars. The forest. Sometimes demon slayers."
"Demon… slayers?" Edgeshot repeated, the faintest trace of curiosity in his voice.
"Yeah. People who kill demons."
"And these 'demons'…" Aizawa leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "…what do they look like?"
Inosuke perked up. "Oh, all kinds! Some look like people until you smell them, then you know. Others are big as houses. I fought one that was just a giant hand with eyes in the palms!"
Kamui and Edgeshot exchanged a glance. Aizawa just stared at him.
"And what happens if you don't kill them?" Aizawa asked.
"They eat people," Inosuke said bluntly. "Or turn them into more demons. Then you have more demons. Then your mountain's gone. Simple."
Edgeshot's voice was calm but probing. "So when you saw the villain today… you thought it was one of these creatures from your mountain."
"Of course! What else would it be?"
"A person," Kamui said flatly. "With a Quirk."
Inosuke barked a laugh. "You keep saying that like it means something."
"It does," Aizawa said. "Here, people are born with Quirks—abilities. They're not 'demons.' They're human."
"Human?" Inosuke tilted his head. "That thing I cut up had purple skin and an arm longer than a tree branch. That's not human. That's demon."
Edgeshot's tone was patient, like he was talking to a stubborn child. "Some Quirks change the body. Make people look different. That doesn't make them monsters."
Inosuke's voice went sharp. "If it eats people, it's a monster."
That shut the room down for a few seconds. Aizawa didn't look convinced, but he also didn't argue.
Kamui finally asked, "So… you kill every demon you see? No hesitation?"
"Why would you hesitate?" Inosuke said, confused. "Do you hesitate to drink water when you're thirsty?"
Edgeshot's fingers tapped against his arm. "And these weapons of yours—" he recall at the twin Nichirin blades that was confiscated "—you used them to behead the villain."
"Yeah," Inosuke said proudly. "They were made to kill demon!."
"That's not how physics works," Kamui muttered.
Aizawa leaned back in his chair. "So… where exactly is this mountain of yours? Which country?"
Inosuke squinted at him. "…What's a country?"
Kamui let out a groan.
Edgeshot's voice stayed even. "Alright, then. When did you come to this city?"
"Just now," Inosuke said simply. "One second I was sleeping on my roof. Next second—" he spread his arms wide "—boom! I'm in Demon City. And everyone's shouting. And that thing was about to eat a woman. So I cut it up."
"You just… appeared?" Aizawa asked.
"Yeah. Why?"
Kamui shifted, muttering, "Teleportation Quirk, maybe…"
Aizawa didn't look convinced. "If that's true, then you're not just lost—you're out of your depth. You have no idea how this world works."
"I know enough," Inosuke said, crossing his arms. "I know there's demons here and you're all too scared to kill them."
Edgeshot studied him for a moment. "Inosuke, if you want to stay here, you can't just kill anyone you think is a demon."
"Then you'd better figure out how to tell the difference," Inosuke shot back. "Before more people get eaten."
The three heroes exchanged another long look. This wasn't just a case of reckless violence—this was someone operating with a completely different worldview, one built from a place they didn't even understand yet.
Aizawa finally spoke. "We're done for now. But you're not going anywhere. We need to verify your story."
The second Aizawa stood up, Inosuke's eyes tracked him like a hawk sighting prey.
"Good," Inosuke said, stretching his arms with a roll of his shoulders. "Then I'm leaving."
"You're not leaving," Aizawa replied flatly.
"Watch me."
The boar-headed boy, stood up on top of the table.
Edgeshot's voice cut through the air, calm but firm. "Inosuke. Sit down."
Inosuke didn't even glance back. "I don't take orders from people too scared to kill demons."
Kamui Woods stepped in front of the door, wooden tendrils coiling from his arms like serpents. "If you walk out that door, you'll be restrained. This isn't negotiable."
Inosuke tilted his head, like he didn't understand the threat—and maybe he didn't. Then, in a flash, he was moving.
Kamui reacted instantly, lashing out with wooden restraints, but Inosuke ducked under the first sweep like a feral animal, his body twisting in an almost unnatural arc. One hand slapped the floor, and his legs coiled and kicked upward like a spring. Kamui's tendrils shot over him and tangled around a chair instead.
"Too slow!" Inosuke barked.
Aizawa's scarf whipped out like lightning, wrapping around Inosuke's torso before he could bolt. A sharp tug yanked him backward—until Inosuke let himself drop limp, rolling in a tangle of limbs like a boar in a death spin. The movement wrenched Aizawa's arm at an ugly angle before the Erasure Hero could react.
CRACK!
Aizawa hissed in pain, the scarf slackening as his elbow gave way. Inosuke was already on his feet, charging.
Kamui tried to block again, roots thickening around his frame, but Inosuke didn't meet him head-on. Instead, he leapt—not in a clean, trained arc, but a jagged zig-zag that made him almost blur. He bounced off the wall, shoved off the ceiling, and dropped straight down on Kamui's back. The impact sent the hero staggering forward.
Edgeshot blurred into motion, transforming into a razor-thin strand that lashed at Inosuke's arm. The boy twisted midair like a cat, letting the strike glance off his shoulder before rolling onto the floor.
The pro heroes were starting to adapt—but Inosuke wasn't fighting like anyone they'd ever trained against. He didn't square his stance or measure distance. He lunged, crouched, bounded, and spun in ways that ignored every law of disciplined combat.
Aizawa gritted his teeth, clutching his injured arm. "Edgeshot—flank him!"
Inosuke's head snapped toward the voice. "Oh? You're still talking? I thought I broke you."
His taunt was followed by a sudden rush forward—not toward Aizawa, but toward the wall itself. He ran up it, kicking off midway to launch himself in a low arc at Kamui again. Kamui's wooden tendrils came up in a shield—Inosuke's hands hit them first, gripping tight, and with a roar he yanked, flipping himself over and yanking the Pro Hero off balance in the process.
The interrogation room wasn't large, but Inosuke was using every inch like a hunting ground. His movements were raw, instinctive, and carried the weight of someone who'd fought tooth and nail in life-or-death battles long before anyone here had heard his name.
Edgeshot tried a feint from the side, his body blurring into a whip-thin strike aimed at Inosuke's leg. It almost worked—but Inosuke didn't dodge. He grabbed the cord-like form mid-swing, using the hero's own momentum to slam him into the wall.
"That's for trying to trip me, worm!"
"Worm?!" Edgeshot's voice was strained but incredulous.
Kamui was back on his feet now, wood plating his arms. "You're not leaving this room."
"Then I'll leave over you," Inosuke growled.
The next exchange was a blur—Kamui's wood lashing in whip-like arcs, Aizawa's scarf flicking out with his one good arm, and Edgeshot recovering to launch a precise stab from the flank. Inosuke dodged two of the attacks, blocked the third with the flat of his palm, and twisted in a way that looked painful just to watch. His head ducked under Kamui's strike while his foot shot out sideways, catching Edgeshot in the ribs.
The hit wasn't particularly clean, but the sheer unpredictability of it threw the hero back.
"Is this how you fight demons here?" Inosuke shouted mid-spin. "No wonder they're still around!"
He lunged at Aizawa next, and the underground hero braced for another tackle—but instead, Inosuke dropped low, swept his leg, and clipped Aizawa's shin. Pain flared up the Erasure Hero's leg, and his footing faltered just enough for Inosuke to plant a hand on his shoulder and shove.
Aizawa hit the wall hard, gasping in pain as his broken arm jostled.
That was the tipping point.
Edgeshot's form splintered into multiple strands, darting around the room in a dizzying pattern meant to bind Inosuke from every direction. Kamui's wood surged from the floor in thick roots, sealing the exits.
But Inosuke didn't panic—he grinned under the boar mask. His stance lowered, his muscles coiled, and then—he exploded into motion.
He leapt sideways into a corner, rebounding off the wall with such force it cracked the plaster. The sudden burst caught Edgeshot's strands mid-wrap, tangling them against Kamui's wood. Inosuke used that split second to climb the wooden barrier like a predator scaling a tree.
By the time they realized what he was doing, he was already perched near the ceiling, muscles twitching with energy.
"Can't catch me!"
Then he dropped—straight toward the door, using his weight and momentum to smash through the half-grown wooden barricade. The impact splintered it enough for him to squeeze through.
"Stop him!" Aizawa barked.
The hallway beyond erupted in movement as other heroes and officers turned toward the commotion. Inosuke didn't slow—he barreled forward, slipping under one man's grab, vaulting off another's back, and kicking a third in the chest hard enough to send him sprawling.
Kamui and Edgeshot burst out of the room behind him, hot on his heels, but Inosuke was already halfway down the hall.
It took three more heroes, a net launcher, and a lucky shot with a capture foam canister to finally bring him down—writhing, snarling, and swearing vengeance on every "coward who gets in the way of killing demons."
By the time they dragged him back toward a reinforced cell, several officers were nursing bruises, Edgeshot's side ached from the kick, Kamui's arm had splinters from his own wood snapping under strain, and Aizawa was off to get his arm set.
Through it all, Inosuke still fought like they'd just inconvenienced him on a morning hunt.