…
[After a long day.]
'Swap'
☐SOCIOPATHY+PSYCHOPATHY+NARCISSIST☐
╰┈➤☐COMORBIDITY☐ *Image*
'...I rise... once again... let's move... lots to do...'
☐LETS☐SEE☐
...
'Once again, the rusty-salt sea breezes by. Pale and blanched colors mute across the darkening sky. And, once again, the bustling of traffic is not yet spurred.'
[Arriving to Kurohama District, you don your black suit. On your face, you wear a fresh All Might mask, not embedded in yet.]
'...drugs... we will kill tonight...'
[Prowling the streets and river banks, you stalk for vagrants.]
...
[After an hour, you spot your target.]
'Blue tarps, cardboard boxes, a mess of tents and scraps. But, more importantly, an amber bottle with a white cap, empty pill bottles.'
[Stepping closer, you hide your presence. Slow, methodical stepping, you creep closer to the entrance of the vagrant's domain.]
'You hear a faint rustling and then, snoring.'
[You spot a man curled, sleeping in a torn tent.]
'Your eyes focus and dart, lines form and a suggestion marks on your mind: Hidden, in their coat, are the pills.'
[Stepping closer.]
'With ease, a panther's stalk, a looming figure, you, intrudes.'
[The tent is loose, the door flap wide open, so you get closer, nearly inside.]
'Breathe slow, calm, and intentional.'
'The heart beat of a heavy sleeper, slow, pumping, *thump thump...* and another,*thump thump...*.'
'A benzodiazepine, an anxiety drug. Slows the heart, dulls the mind, and snares the mental. A highly addictive medication, common enough to be spotted here. The electric pulse you feel indicates he's been self-medicating for a while now, addicted and now lives for sleep.'
[You easily grab the man and open his coat, hearing the rattle of pills, you spot them held close to his heart. His hands grasps the bottle, but as you tug on it, his grip loosens instantly.]
'*thump thump...* and another, *thump thump...* His heart is very slow. Perhaps...'
'A stinging wave of nausea, a sickly yeast liquid sloshes in the blotched stomach slowly rising. The cheeks of his comatose face blush against his paling skin. This man is drunk.'
'You look around the tent and spot a pile of alcohol cans. A recent accumulation of metal scrap.'
[You back out of the tent with the newly acquired pills in your pocket.]
'...move on..'
[Out of the river bank, you readjust to society and walk with a normal gait.]
'White paper, blue letterings, and a phone number.'
[You spot a person walking by. Quickly you grab them, "Hey."]
["Eh! Eh?" A middle aged man looks at you with shock.]
'Still wearing your mask, but the suit is very nice.'
[You point to the river bank nearby, "Sir, there's a man overdosing in a tent over there."]
["Eh? Ah? Overdose? Over there? Really?" The man confused.]
["Call the police," you point to a notice sign on a wall, warning against drugs and a helpline.]
["Eh, really!?" The man takes out his phone and calls the police.]
'The All Might mask seals the deal.'
[As he does so, you walk away.]
...
'...before the party... understand the guests...'
[Using the information from the document #1 had in their possession, you go to the addresses of the Numbers.]
'You do an ocular pat down of all their information. Lives, loves, hobbies, and habits.'
'The turn of an umbrella, the dust on the windowsill, the marks of potted plants. Habits and more habits, personality and behaviors, thought patterns and vices.'
'You see children, a wife or a girl, a dog and or a cat, food in their kitchens, and hidden stashes. The personal identities.'
'The scent of candles, the smell of cigarettes, the stench of moldy water. The environment.'
'You don't see the Numbers in their homes. But, you see stress. Loved ones worried, pets restless, and things left on counters. A dust of their shoe prints, a collection of alcohol, an unkempt bed. They are doing something today, for your arrival.'
'AMBUSH.'
'Yes, from the get-go you knew they'd plan something behind your back.'
'...death...'
'Scout the other businesses, if assumptions are correct, they may ask for back up.'
...
[As the sky nearly fully darkens, you arrive at Black Flower Finance.]
[Looking around the building floor, you spot the company name is on the second floor. The other floors are diners and miscellaneous services. But overall, most are abandoned.]
'Secrecy is required for a business like theirs. Acquire a vantage sight.'
[From the opposite buildings, you spot a parallel office building, but it looks abandoned.]
'A peeled off sign, and papers scattered pinned on the glass, it's been abandoned, and the renter doesn't repair.'
'That means the owner of that building won't come by anytime soon. So go there.'
[From across the building, on the opposite side from the windows, you stand observing the office building.]
'Empty. It's the 2nd floor. In a medium side office room, there are two couches facing each other and to the back a large desk. A coffee machine is on a counter, and filing cabinets caked with dust. A fan above slowly swings, and a bulletin board is full of advertisements. You also spot a metal bat tucked behind a coat rack near the entrance door.'
'Spot that. The couch has a large concave dent, a dent that for leather would weigh at least 200 pounds, something #1, the lion man, would leave. The dent's coverage is contained, not rolled by fat or size, it's an athletic weighted individual. And, it's not in the dominant seat, so unlikely a member of Black would be there.'
'You said you'd come by Saturday to meet the members of Club Blue. It's still Friday, so they are just preparing for you. Today, you'll catch them off guard, and stomp them.'
'Check Tenka Trust, the last of the three. Maybe they'll have more clues.'
...
[Factories surround the area, though some abandoned, the sounds of metal banging can be heard.]
[Stalking the building of Tenka Trust, you see it's underground in the bottom most floor. On the side of a factory, stairs lead down to the business.]
'You appear in a deeper recesses of the industrial district. The walls are stained with graffiti, but the ground is clean with no broken glass or trash.'
'You notice symbols around indicating a specific location identifier. A broad triangle.'
'A more vicious business. The location, environment, and signs. The owner of Tenka Trust is a professional. A seasoned criminal.'
'Remember what #1 mentioned, one of them has connections, Tenka Trust should be that one.'
'You can't approach without getting noticed, they're in a hole. Inside the factory they're next to, most likely, has another entrance.'
[Walking inconspicuously around, you walk into an abandoned factory nearby that has a view of the entrance.]
'The Club Blue is open late, they'll be around for a bit, so you can afford an hour.'
...
[Over the hour, you saw 4 separate individuals come in and out of the stairs.]
'They looked varied, 3 were normal gangster-types, while 1 was a clear stark difference. The 1 was in a black suit and had an air of discipline. Perhaps a lent hand by the supposed connection.'
'You don't have enough information to make a connection, but the individual is clearly a higher tier member.'
[From the current sight, Tenka Trust hasn't given help to Club Blue. This doesn't mean they don't know, but at least 4 personnel are not at Club Blue.]
'At least 11 people are waiting for you, if you're that important, who knows, coincidences happen.'
'The Blue Water Loan Sharks do not hold any loyalty in the slightest. All you did was show power, force, pain, and ideals. The Heart Gu is temporary and not fool-proof, it doesn't instill a deep enough devotion for mind control, just a momentary light headedness. The only good thing it brings is immense pain.'
'You know what this means.'
'BLOOD WILL FLOW.'
'...strategy is suggested... distraction...'
[You look around and find some materials.]
'Oil drums for machine lubrication. A smaller canister of chemicals. Random scraps of plastic and Styrofoam.'
'...draw the police...'
[You open an oil drum. Seeing it's half full, you pour in the chemicals and add plastic and Styrofoam to the mix.]
[Sealing the drum, you tip it over. Taking a random tool you poke many dozen holes on the sides, where the air pocket resides.]
[Taking a walk with the drum, you hide and reach the entrance of Tenka Trust.]
'You could, but they wouldn't report to the police.'
[You let some oil drip and lead a trail where you walk.]
'Their walk patterns are already known, they won't see it till you're already gone.'
[Making a trail, you walk the alleyways till you reach a busy street.]
'A perfect spot is noticed. An unfrequented building. And the street is going down hill.'
[On that street, to the side where you hide, you walk up the stairs of a company building.]
[Facing the fairly busy street, above, at the balcony, you watch and proceed to tinker with the drum.]
[You tip the drum around till the leaking oil covers the entire surface of the drum. After a good coating, you lift the drum to the non leaking side and walk to the windows.]
[Taking the old lighter from your inner pockets, you light the oil glazed around the drum.]
'Burn.'
[The drum invisibly lights on fire, the heat of fire giving you notice it's lit. Above the gas fire, you see the flames.]
'The pace of walkers, a gap is made in place.'
[At the balcony, you toss with a hefty might at a clearing. The drum's flame flickers but lingers as it consumes fuel in the air. smashing on the pavement, the oil drum's top dents open and a flow of oil leaks downhill. Fire still faintly flickering catches on and bursts in flames, the trail of oil lighting but useless as the drum starts to roll. Catching speed, the drum erratically spins down the street causing panic among the people walking, the oil fire splattering, melted plastic not dying out.]
[Running away, you don't look any longer.]
'That should take some of the heat off. Police resources will be sent. And a warning that you are watching.'
...
[Nearby Club Blue, you hide in the alleys.]
'No patrons are allowed entry, the bouncers are not allowing it.'
'They're hedging their bets. They don't want to make a scene at their best performing business.'
'...better for you...'
[You prepare yourself.]
'Your fibers TENSE, held till it CRIES. INDOMITABLE power GROWS. PROCEED.'
'Under a million suns, do not sweat blood. Sweat tears of joy, euphoria comes from pain. Do not falter.'
'Hide what makes you flinch, they don't know your unimaginable will. In human nature, DEFY.'
♻☐PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT+ENDURANCE+PAIN THRESHOLD☐
╰┈➤☐INSUPERABILIS☐ *image*
'DO NOT STOP. FUCKING MASH THEM INTO PASTE. GOD IN FLESH, FLESH IN GOD. WE ARE A WORLD OF POWER. STRENGTH FLOODS YOUR VIENS, DENSE IN YOUR CALLOUS SKIN. KEEP MOVING, PUSH THROUGH, KILL, MASS GENOCIDE, PILLAGE, BASH THEIR SKULLS, RIP THEIR SPINES, DO NOT FUCKING STOP.
WE ARE 🇸 🇺 🇵 🇪 🇷 🇮 🇴 🇷.'
'It stops moving, the crystallites. You command it. Beating the small dog, you cripple the distinct universe you lay inside. A chrysalis in hibernation and solstice. Every clash between your bottom leg on the opposing ground alters your distance closer.'
[Your body pulses with fiery blood, muscles engorging with blood and euphoria. The muscles bulge till it tears apart your skin, peeling, skin regrows over the newly hardened mass.]
'Your suit tightens to a point of no return, tearing at the seams, your arms snap the fibers and now collars of fabric wrap tightly around your biceps and forearms.'
'Internal systems combust, a shining star in a Dyson sphere. The blood of man is burned away, consecrated in hellfire, an infernal construct. Every motion evaporates millions of years of light from the heavenly body above, consuming the Eternal Engine within you, a distant yet closer hypergiant luminescent star in the sea of this one's soul.'
'You need to tear off this restraining suit, the rubbery matter sticks and crowds your structure. Things crumble, peel, and fade; the root of your skin needs to be pulled. And this *SEARING* heat broils your flesh into itchy sections of substances.'
[You stagger and grab your head. Having a molting mask, you place your hand on your forehead and dig deep, and deeper, and deeper, and deeper, till the fingers warp underneath the folds and out your eyelids. As fire continues to incinerate the sense of self, you dig even further, and further, gripping a hold of the human mask. Relief continues to cool the heat as the exfoliation enacts. A bump of the heart throbs with exuberance as a result of the final pop of the mask, a jubilee of molten slag pouring out. With excitement, you attach the real mask, the All Might mask.]
'...Grand Tenō... Arrives...'
'🇼 🇪 🇦 🇷 🇪 🇭 🇪 🇷 🇪, 🇬 🇷 🇦 🇳 🇩 🇹 🇪 🇳 🇴.'
☐Artificial Series☐
╰┈➤☐SHOCK ABSORPTION☐
'...shed no tears ...shed no blood ...be taller than the mountains... beyond the movement of stars...'
[Like a superstar actor, a jaunting step forward, you pass through the shadows, into the light, the street ahead of Club Blue.]
'Be no stranger to action. Today we are the main star, and the performance is physical comedy,'
'Nothing stands in your way. *Move aside*! The esteemed Grand Tenō strides without worry! Authority begone, enforcement disrupted, police investigating a barreling barrel of fire. It's time to start another mess, this time, discreet~.'
[With a winding hand rub, you stride heavy, then dash with starlight speed. Blitzing through the 2 bouncers, one with the small arms, and the other a plain big guy. They notice too late, "Hey!?" And you leap up the dark flight of stairs, "Get back here!" They follow, but follow too slowly, you quickly reach the employee door and swing it open. Beyond the hall, guarding the Blue Water's door, is a simple guard.]
'Black Flowers Finance.'
'The lights flicker a daunting purple, pictures of women and smiles strewn across the walls. The empty club is ripe for entrance.'
[From behind, "Stop him!" This catches the attention of the guard up ahead.]
'...you must end this farce...'
'Death is too early.'
[You duck and pounce, a leap of preposterous force launches you, in mere seconds, before the guard can react. Closing the distance, you tuck and spin, jump-kicking precisely at both shoulder joints, de-socketing them and pushing him back through the door and unconscious from head-trauma-by-door.]
'That door was 1 day old. Such a young soul cries, "The hinges warned me of you! So cruel!" The door splits apart, shattering into splinters, "Is this what death feels like?" The door, is dead.'
[Stepping on top the remains of the door, you observe the occupied room.]
[A huddle of men, two opposing each other. Blue Waters with Black Flowers. The Numbers stand tall behind #1 sitting in his office chair, behind his desk. The Black Flowers sit opposing, 5, each seated in a semi-circle.]
'*Pause* you hit the pause button. The scenario is clear, each member will move according to habit. Currently they hesitate to move, the flash of surprise still present. The Numbers seem intention-less, at least, everyone but #1. Plan each action, then hit play.'
'Slicked back hair on top of an nearly morbidly obese man, with a neck beard and pure evil smile of greed. His eyes are sharp and focus on wealth, gold, money- *no* gold, just gold. Donning this large figure, is a golden regalia of rings, necklaces, braces, chains, teeth, and even gold ears. A gold pig, is more apt to title him.'
'Surrounding that gold pig, seated are 4 men, two on each side.
'A cheesy looking guy, with sharp fingers. A man with an eternal clenched fist. A man with an enlarged arm. And a man that has a sharp shoulder.'
'#1 plans to mutiny. The gaze he has on you, it's one of disgust, fear, and anger. A scorned excommunicated noble, calling upon a connection he had, all to kill the protagonist. How cliche. Disgusting.'
[Your hands clench.]
'At least the rest of the Numbers seem amiable, merely pawns following a King, a lion, but soon the poacher.'
[Your hands unclench.]
'But that doesn't excuse their betrayal!?'
[Your hands clench again, harder.]
'A pinpoint line starts drawing the path you will take. A white wave of human silhouettes start blitzing across the room, enacting the actions of future movements the actors of the lay have yet to take. Everything else seems normal, no red lines, but there is one oddity, a large white silhouette that grows in size. It looks like an earth elemental spirit.'
[Your pupil's sphincter tightens to a single dot, light beams a single laser, color blending and mute into grey. Darkness grows at the corner of your television view, to a vignette of major proportion.]
'Act! Move! Your path is in #1's head.'
[By the time #1's eyes blink, your hand is already on their mane of fur. Nothing processed but the utterance of a child's words, "What?" And you slam his head down onto his desk.]
'A loud bang rings out. The skin over the skull splits apart and wooden splinters pierce the skull. The head is raw, hemorrhaging. A discombobulated brain rattles and squishes against the bone cage.'
[The Black Flowers start to react, but you can still make another action.]
'You cannot kill this man. But, you can lead him to death, and others can follow. Do what you see fit, monster. Again and again, you still do the same motions, creatures of habit? That is you, a 'creature,' a ' monster,' a 'bastard.' Die in hell, the kind that is eternal and alone.'
'The 🇰 🇮 🇳 🇬 is alone. No servant knows the bearing weight of power. Cry, whine, bitch and moan, cunt. The 🇰 🇮 🇳 🇬 does not care, he has decisions to make.'
[Your arm grips harder upon the mane of the lion, raising the head from the buckling desk, sticky blood dripping down, you slam down once more, tearing a chunk of hair and scalp.]
'Fractures to the skull, teeth pushed inwards. Not unconscious yet, his body still hums. A faint flicker of light.'
[With the little resistance #1 can give, you force his skull to pulverize onto the desk, breaking the desk and leaving a limp #1 on the trashed floor.]
'Monster.'
'🇰 🇮 🇳 🇬.'
[The Numbers hesitate, knowing your strength, but the Black Flowers retaliate in confusion.]
[A man seated in the far side raises their arm and fires a bone spear into your neck, breaking apart and splitting into fragments.]
[Another, to the opposite seat, raises a pistol and fires into your chest twice and once at your head. The bullets burst and pierce through your dress coat and flattens into a busted coin against your skin.]
'Like liquid splashing, the fragments pop and wash away. A brief burst of air from the hits.'
'Surprising the willingness to use a firearm, especially a loud one.'
[The Black Flowers seated in the center stand up, in the middle, the gold pig glaring continues to sit.]
'Not fear nor arrogance, observation, evaluation, an obsession with value.'
[To the left, a man's arm grows larger, into a alligator-like appendage.]
[Another's has his fingers turn into needles, unknown liquids sloshing around.]
'Slow it down. In front of you is a classic scenario, two on the right, two on the left, one in front. Each has their own abilities you've already seen through, simple enough, but the boss is the only unknown.'
'You recollect the visage of a stone golem. Perhaps it's related.'
[Stepping with purpose you loom over the gold pig.]
'Your sharp eyes spot a hesitation with the man, an insurance and choice. If you make any sudden moves, he may not reveal it to you.'
[Two more bone spears launches and break apart against your leg and chest.]
[The gunman fires till empty, your head dropping 20 flattened rounds.]
'Though barely noticeable, something about the sharpshooter makes notice to you. Every shot lands in the same spot, but it's not his Quirk, the imperceivable deviations show it's a soldier, more so a mercenary. His shooting shows a history, he's served and killed, then continued after service.'
'In a Quirk world, mercenaries are tougher than most pro-heroes, to be one is to be capable of killing Quirks without one. Though this little soldier may have an unknown Quirk.'
[Still slowly walking to the gold pig, he stands and grabs an injector from his pocket.]
'That's 'Trigger,' a synthetic compound made to boost the power of a Quirk.'
'It's the perfect opportunity, try it. You've always been curious about the interaction between it and you.'
'You've been slow for this exact moment. Giving him an opportunity to use it, he's revealed it.'
[With sudden speed, you dash and swipe the injector. The gold pig yelps, "Fu-!"]
'Time slows once again. Inject?'
'Why not? It'll be euphoric.'
'Do not.'
'You probably shouldn't'
'Things don't sit right.'
'It sits with viscous ebony.'
'I ask once again. Inject?'
[No, you don't need it yet. An ominous precognition makes note, an incredibly dangerous reaction will occur when injected.]
[You swap hands and clutch the injector in your left hand, aware and protecting it from any damage.]
["-ck!" The gold pig's skin starts changing hues and shines, metallic chrome and then gold creeps up his arms and spreads across his entire body.]
[The mercenary dives away to reload his pistol.]
[The bone spear man leaps back and aims at you, not firing until ready.]
[The needle fingers creeps away and circles around you.]
[Croc-arms swings!]
'Attack.'
[Bigger than the Japanese man, your arm-span reaches his face before his to your chest. With a crackling blow, your fists splits his cheek apart and jolts his head, causing him to immediately fall limp.]
[The now literal gold man crunches his fists into balls of metal, "If I have to!" And, not attacking you, he flexes his obese body and suddenly his golden skin bulks, masses of gold spikes jut out and he growls a groan. He hulks to a large figure, 10 feet tall, gold dropping in pebbles as he continues growing in size, slower than the start of it.]
'Noticeable, the original human form is obscured by this gold layer.'
[In range of the gold hulk, you await his action.]
'His arm groans with a metal screech.'
'The arm reels back.'
[In a swipe, the arm like a tree-log mace catches wind and batters your side, the gold deforming to your shape, it buckles and crumbles into some more gold pieces.]
[Air displaces in vacuums and wind hollers through the room.]
[As wind gusts, you force your hand into the gold hulk's chest.]
'Through rock and stone, ore and mineral, you strike GOLD! You're rich! You're rich!'
[Feeling a harder core, you flex and swipe the outer layer of gold like gravel. An avalanche of gold crumbles away, revealing the chest of the man inside.]
'He's considerably less overweight than before. Diet plan?'
'His Quirk, greed inherit to his core, as he accumulates money, he can consume it, turning it into gold armor. Not bad.'
'Watch what happens.'
[The gold hulk grapples around you and tries to crush you between his arms, the gold dents and warps, smoothing the parts pressured against you.]
[You simply burst out of the grapple, smearing the gold arms apart.]
[Reaching your arm into the hole of the hulk, you place your palm against the chest of the gold pig's core.]
'Internal Breaking Palm Requiem Non-Lethal.'
[A momentum and twist of your entire body, your palm flexes and explodes a large volume of air, pressure sinks inside and the gold armor peels out as the man inside seizes prone. All the gold drains of color, becoming a dull grey-like rock.]
[Collapsing on himself, the gold boss lays unconscious in a pile of dull rocks.]
'A presence behind you.'
[Needles break on your skin.]
'Hold on. We must be logical here. Give reason a chance. Here's my list of the positives and negatives.
Positives:
You will strike fear into the hearts of every individual and future members of the Numbers. This cements your commitment to the Numbers. Once the heart and mental faculties cease, everyone is the killer in heart.
Negatives:
Murder is not something you want done to yourself. A stain like this on your record could be found out. A man with a life story dies.'
'POSITVE 0: YOUR FIRST KILL.'
'Causality of the Universe: With Chaos at every Planck unit, Nothing is certain, yet is. Something could, yet could not. Be dark, and bright. Darker than the Abyss but Brighter than the Empyrean. A Singularity in a Paradoxical experience. To Touch is to Taste a Repulsion, to Hear is to Lick the chapped lips of one's Eye. Meaning that is Meaningless to the Current Perceiver. A Realm of Dimension beyond Fact and Truth. The Oblivion within Entropy is Absolute Erasure.'
'Simplified: Causality. Provide the cause, then execute the man. To rather not wish a man dead, kill them instead. Ease the strain of Entropy with Causality.'
'To save one life, may be the end of ten. One thing you can be sure of: Scum like him can be dead without grief. Off with his head.'
'Military Spear Hand Technique.'
[In a split moment, your hand swipes behind you. A whip-like sound splitting the air and the skull of a man. Blood and brain matter hit against a wall, splaying deep red across the freshly cleaned surface.]
'A different force of gravity, the man's split head careens into the wall at the force of Jupiter. Skull fragments imbedded in the structure.'
'Color winces and returns like a beaten puppy. Come back.'
[At the sight of their boss losing, a man dying, the Black Flowers despair. The bone spear guy yells, "WHAT THE FUCK! Who the hell are you!" Tears beading from their eyes. Breathes bated and hitched. Throat dry.]
[You look to the Numbers.]
'The faces of defeat, fear, and haunting prospects.'
[You smile, "I'm the one they wanted dead."]
'The reactions from the Numbers show shock and despair.'
[The bone guy raises his hands, "We accept defeat! Let us go, and we'll leave!"]
'A howl of superiority overcomes you. Mimetic concepts massacre the minds of feeble others. You speak words of power.'
["🇳 🇴," you reach the bone spear guy and grip his shoulder meat, "🇰 🇳 🇪 🇪 🇱."]
[In pain, he tenses and falls, kneeling, screaming, "GAHHH, I kneel! KNEEEL!"]
'Others watch in fear and hesitation, the Numbers not acting cause the Black Flowers to pause.'
["🇬 🇷 🇴 🇻 🇪 🇱." You pinch harder, piercing muscle and touching bone with finger tips.]
["GAHHHAHHHGAHH!" He screams in absolute agony, eyes bulging, tears and slobber dripping. He can't lower due to you holding him up.]
["🇷 🇪 🇵 🇪 🇳 🇹." With a flash of power, you pinch and strain the bone you pinch.]
[In silence, the screams go beyond voice and he groans, eyes zip to the back of his head, sweat beading and drenching him, he involuntarily passes out.]
'The mercenary hedged his bets, his bullets did nothing to you. If he did anything now, surely he'd be executed.'
[In horror, the others watch. You point to the floor in front of you, "🇬 🇷 🇴 🇻 🇪 🇱, 🇳 🇴 🇼."]
'A faint AUTHORITY grasps their souls, but SUPERIORITY overwhelms them, prey will cower.'
[Scrambling, everyone but the leaders dogeza in front of you.]
'The leaders are incapacitated.'
["🇷 🇪 🇵 🇪 🇳 🇹."]
["S-sss-sorry, sorry, we're sorry."]
["We a-apologize!"]
[And other babbling of faults and sorrows.]
[You walk forward and step on #5's back, the knife hand guy, "What did I say would happen, if even one of you mess around?"]
[He grunts and stammers, "W-w-we all get punished."]
[Your eyes watch hollow behind the All Might mask, "Did I not spare you last time? Show mercy? Restrain myself?"]
[They do not respond.]
[You step a little harder, the air squeezed out his lungs, ribs bending, "🇵 🇺 🇳 🇮 🇸 🇭 🇲 🇪 🇳 🇹." Blood drips from your hand, droplets marking the floor.]
[He doesn't respond, he can't, he struggles and asphyxiates slowly.]
[You release your step, and he gasps for air, you look to the others, "Do you all want 🇵 🇺 🇳 🇮 🇸 🇭 🇲 🇪 🇳 🇹?"]
["N-no!"]
["Please, no!"]
["NO!"]
[And more pleading.]
[You hear the 2 bouncers arrive to the door, "Intruder!?"]
[You look to them, "🇰 🇳 🇪 🇪 🇱."]
[They watch, first defiance, second realization, third acceptance, fourth kneeling.]
'While they're muscle, they're not part of the Loan Shark business. Maybe a little look-the-other-way-types, but they are civilians.'
[You walk to #2, squid guy, the loyal one, "🇪 🇽 🇵 🇱 🇦 🇮 🇳."]
'The Superiority in your voice simmers. Winds that once howled, now whisp.'
["A-ah, ah, the boss... n-number 1, ah, threatened us... we, we had to-had to!" He bashes his own head to the floor, "I-I'm sorry, s-sorry, we didn't fight! Didn't fight! So-s-so spare us! Please!"]
[You smile, and reach into your pockets, "If you want redemption, then you must prepare recompense. Words mean nothing, actions are everything." You pull out the pills, shaking it, "Today, we dispose of #1, you will do it. If you do, you will be spared, and I will appoint you #1."]
[#2 presses his head deeper onto the floor and thanks God, "Yes, y-yes, I will, I'll do it!"]
[You walk to the Black Flowers, who are quiet, "Do you like your boss?" You swipe your hand in the air and the excess blood on you flicks away.]
[The mercenary answers, "...He's a greedy sonofabitch but he's workable."]
[The croc-arms guy whines, "That bastard fucking sucks!"]
[Groaning from the pile of dull rocks, "...fu-fuckers..." The boss moans, stirring awake.]
["Did you like that needles guy?"]
["He did the dirty work." Mercenary.]
["Y-yeah, he was strange, kept trying to poke us!" Croc-arms.]
[The boss breathes heavy, "...that guy was a... friend... of a friend, of a cousin of mine..." He scoffs, "More trouble than worth."]
[You walk over to the boss of Black Flowers, laying in a pile of rocks, his skin is greyish, "Where did you get the trigger?"]
[He groans, "...heh.. you know about it? ...fuck." He lays still and thinks for a bit, "I got it from... Tenka. Shit's cheapshit."]
[You nod, "They have a lot of it?"]
["Shit, I don't know. How about you do what you did to us and find out?" He painfully chuckles.]
[You nod again, "I will."]
'Shivers across the room. The Numbers know your words are no longer baseless.'
[The gold boss sighs, "...fuck..."]
'A winding clock hits it's strike.'
[Another moment of pause, he declares, "Let me join you."]
'He's made his observations. Hedged his bets.'
[You tilt your head, "Join?"]
["Boss?"]
["Shut up, you little shits, fuckers!" His eyes look to you, "I heard from Raion, you're trying to take us over, right? Take it." He coughs and breathes still, "He said some shit but little Tekagi mentioned the details." He scoffs, "I'm tired being tossed around for money, I want to go big. Even if it's as the tail of a crazy fucking dragon."]
'His words tell you he's dealt with the underground for a long time as a grunt. The stint of being a Loan Shark boss was probably the culmination of all his efforts.'
'Raion is the Lion-man, and Tekagi is the Squid-man.'
[You hum, "We'll go over orientation later, but welcome to the Numbers." You walk over to the unconscious #1, picking him up you lay him in the center of the room.]
'At least this new 'leader' is sensible. A competent business man.'
[You look to #2, "Get me a bottle of vodka. Any." He scrambles and runs out. Looking at the bouncers, "You two, you're number 0's, come here." They hesitate with great difficulty.]
[The greyish boss, mutters, "Can I be number 7?"]
[You shrug, "sure."]
["Cool..." Number 7.]
[You watch the struggling bouncers, "Come, come." And they hurry over. You stare at them and then pat them both on the shoulder, "Good work, 0's. Club Blue workers will be spared, understood?"]
[They nod vehemently, "yes..."]
[You smile beneath the mask, "Don't run away, I know your families thanks to former #1." You point to Lion-man, and they show frustration. Patting them again, they snap out of it, "Don't worry, I'm not a money hungry guy like #7, you'll all receive great merit rewards on your salaries."]
'A sense of change.'
[The right one nods and the other one, the one with thin arms, kneels, "Thank you, boss!" Following the other's lead, the right one kneels, "Boss!"]
[You pat their heads, "Do not fret, as 0's, you're civilians, not drafted as soldiers. Be free and calm your heart, wealth will flow." They bow, kneeling. You rub your mask's chin, "I still need to meet with more workers."]
[Squid-guy runs back, holding vodka, a cheaper variety, "Here, boss T-Tenō."]
'Aw, he remembers your name.'
[You clap your hands and grasp the bottle, "Thank you, Number 1!" You kneel to the limp body of former #1. Taking the bottle of pills, you unscrew it and pour the pills into your hand, putting the pills in his mouth, you pour the vodka down his throat, washing the pills down his throat, and unconsciously he swallows both. As you pour the vodka, you look at #1, "Does he have a car around?"]
["Yes, boss."]
["Can you drive him to his house and then rig it to make him drive into it?"]
["I-I think so."]
["Put him in the passenger seat with that dead guy in the trunk, drive him to his house, I'll give the address, put him in the driver's seat, cut the brakes and tie his foot to the pedal, then push it down, close the door, and come back. Sound good? He'll be delirious, so he'll give no trouble. Make it fast, fast enough it vaporizes him and the evidence."]
[After a brief moment of thought, he nods, "I-I can do this! Like the tv-shows, right?"]
[You nod, "Like the tv-shows." you pick up a piece of paper and write down the address, handing to #1, "Here, do it."]
["Yes, sir."]
'Even if this fails, they'll be the ones framed for murder.'
[You look to the rest of the people, still heads on the floor, "Does anyone want to help? I'll grant more forgiveness."]
[#4 raises his hand off the floor, the normal looking mute-screamer one, "I-I can help, sir!"]
'He must not want his family to be hurt.'
[#5, blade hands, coughs, "I know our boss's car, I can... assist."]
[You clap your hand, "Wonderful! So many helpers. You all do this and forgiveness will be given! #3?"]
[#3 rubber arms grunts, "Ah..., I'll help lift the... body... bodies."]
[You smile and clap once more, "Wonderful! This is it! The Numbers helping each other!" You twirl, "Numbers! Grand Tenō wants roll call!"]
["ONE!" Squid answers.]
["THREE!"]
["FOUR!"]
["FIVE!"]
["Seven?" Gold Boss hesitant.]
[You applause, "Great! My boys, my Numbers! Go, set off on your quest!" The bottle of vodka empties.]
'He's a big lion-man, surely his tolerance can handle that much.'
[The Numbers, except #7, takes the former #1, lion-man, and the headless body out of the room and disappears.]
[You rub your hands, "0's, watch orientation!"]
["Yes, boss!"]
...
[You give the trial of blood and flesh.]
'They eat the blood and flesh of their God.'
'You mention the Gu Heart and the control you have.'
...
[The ordain of Number.]
'1 is squid.
2 is mercenary.
3 is rubber arms.
4 is normal dude.
5 is blade hands.
6 is bone spears.
7 is gold pig, who's skinny now.
8 is croc arms.'
...
[The mission of the Numbers.]
'You give a speech on the purpose of the Numbers, and how you will now operate.'
...
[The change of business.]
'The needs of a warehouse and business documents are given. At the mention of the Detnerat project, #7 gives a toothy smile.'
...
[Let them free.]
'After a business chant of celebration, shouting their numbers out loud, you let them roam free.'
...
'Interestingly, no police show up. Those gun fires must've been very loud. Maybe there's a gun hero around here, an underground prowler or a simply uninterested community.'
'Gun Hero is more likely, no use in looking for them, doesn't matter.'
...
[The boys come back, after their special mission.]
[You open your arms, "My boys! You've arrived, I presume everything went well? Hmmm?"]
[#1 salutes, "Yes, Tenō-Aniki.]
'Aniki is a term of respect.'
[You smile, "Oh, my dear Number 1! Tell me, how did you do?"]
[He nods, "#5 drove us to the location written." He cracks his knuckles, "And well... we set it up, made it look like an act."]
[#5 steps forward, "Yes, Tenō-Aniki. Uh, #1 is really good at doing this." He clears his throat, "Went... smoothly."]
[#1 lightly smiles, "Hit the house straight on, faster than we expected."]
[You nod, "Nice, nice, hopefully you hit the wife and kids too."]
[Silence, then, #1, "...what?"]
[You nod more interested, clapping your hands, "Haha! Well, y'know, the former #1 was a married man. Nice kids as well. Little pups ain't they." You point to #4, the normal family man, "Like you." And pointing to #3, rubber-arms, "And your dog."]
'DREAD.'
'This is most amusing.'
[Your face contorts behind the mask.]
[You clasp your hands in a finale, "Well, all's well that ends well. And at least you're not Helena."]
'From the classic literature by William Shakespeare, All's Well That Ends Well.'
[They stay quiet.]
[You shmooze on forward, "Weeeeell, not a problem! Take those dark thoughts and... throw it away!" You mimic a ball toss from your head.]
[You walk forward and grip #1's shoulder, serious, "Listen, #1." And then releasing your grip, you pat his chest, "Be good? For me. And, if so, we'll have power, money, influence, and most of all, dear #1, we will be good people, not evil."]
[You sweep some dust off #1's shoulder, "Oops, there was a ghost here." Dusting it off.]
[Going to the exit of the Blue Water's door, "#1, take care of business, I left the email with the instructions for previous #1. Uh.. pick up his computer from the floor and figure it out. I gotta meet our debtors." You point at #1, "Remember, we're no longer a loan shark business. Clean slate. Blue Water's now the Eight Currents."]
[They don't respond.]
[You wave around, "remember to clean this mess."]
[You exit.]
...
'Hush ye, hush ye, little pet~, Ye'll no be fashed wi' bogles yet. The bugaboo will get ye soon~, If ye dinna sleep this afternoon. If you don't be good and do what you're told, you'll be carried away to the bogeyman's hold. Don't you open the door, don't you let him in, He'll take you away with a terrible grin.'
...
'Swap'
'A rundown pyre of piety. The surrounding weeds are cut and trimmed down, but the vines of age eat away at the stone. Panes of normal glass have cardboard and tape covering shattered spots. The door and path are left swept and maintained.'
'The trajectory of the broken glass lines about a few yards away, fairly close, a spherical object was thrown, amateurishly, at the panes.'
'The signs of a rebellious child? Or hatred for the religion.'
'Not abnormal. Religion has been shunned in the recent century. Quirks have distracted folks away from the allure of religion and started their own. Classic religions are still in basic practice as they are part of culture, but it's been muted, hiding away.'
'Something to note: The Vatican has undergone secrecy, a pope still represents, but that is all.'
'Theory: Quirk Abominations. There are many secret facilities in the present and past that have been doing incredibly inhumane experiments on Quirks. It's highly likely that the Vatican has been trying to produce a symbol of their God. At least, a number of religions have been trying.'
'You remember Ibara Shiozaki, a girl with vines for hair, and a determination for piety.'
[You approach a church.]
'We killed a man, right?'
'Technically two. No, more.'
[You take a deep sigh of agony and sickening excitement.]
'You love this feeling.'
'That shitty feeling is emotion.'
'That emotion is simulated, if a Quirk user ever reads your history, maybe they'd see your anguish and have a favorable disposition against you. If they read your mind? We'll deal with them.'
[You stretch and loosen your muscles, taking off the ripped pieces of your suit, wearing now a sleeveless dress suit.]
'An odd fashion statement.'
'An odd life.'
[You knock.]
'One. Two. Three.'
'As the resonance echoes, inside you sense the bouncing waves. A wide open space with pews and a lectern at the end, a muted noise makes note that there is another room, a backdoor room for other activities.'
'You sense it's a church inside, genius.'
'A faint tap of steps come closer.'
[You wait for a bit, and then open the doors.]
'Churches should always have their doors open. Jesus welcomes all, no?'
'No, the doors can be locked. Every faith is different, every interpretation is different, every Messiah is different. No common consensus can be made with the population. That goes to science as well. Beholder and all.'
[A wave of fresh dust musk wafts over you, a cooler wood smell tickles the skin.]
'A God could be born here. A New God. A Pantheon ignited by blood and flesh.'
[A woman in light robes and a head dress, unlike a nun, she's in casual wear.]
'Donning a young woman, 30-ish years old, thin and sparkling, is a pink and grey robe with designs of no pattern. The head dress is a simple white cloth wrap over forehead, looking more like a simple headband.'
[You flash a smile behind the mask, "Hello, is this a church?"]
'Her face expresses shock and joy, a smile lifts.'
["Eh? All Might? ...no-Yes! Yes, this is the Second Genesis Church." She smiles and bows, "Come in, come in!" Beckoning you in.]
'The standard of beauty is altered in your reality bubble. Weather is always nice. People do the things you say. Everything seems to go your way, a so called "Plot Armor." Perhaps you're just a character in a story like your dreams.'
'Or, you don't perceive negative things as negative. There is nothing other than the path forward.'
'Seems she doesn't mind your mask.'
[You nod and bow, following her in.]
'Stranger danger, but not for you. Besides the other two beings in this site, she's alone.'
'She must be used to strangers with masks.'
[You follow her from behind, "So... Second Genesis?"]
'You know of Second Genesis. In 1861 through 1930, Uchimura Kanzō was a prominent Japanese author, Christian evangelist, and the founder of the Nonchurch Movement. A branch of the Nonchurch Movement, the Second Genesis, occurred when Quirks started to emerge in 1977. In their belief, human history is divided into pre-Quirk, First Genesis, and post-Quirk, Second Genesis, periods. Originally the Nonchurch Movement was the worship of Christianity without an external site or outside piety. In the Second Genesis, public worship is obsolete; private study of one's Quirk is worship, believing Quirks are God's gift. Every "gift" is tailored to an individual's "soul," God's way of giving personal purpose to humankind, a divine purpose given to all. So, understanding your Quirk takes priority over using, displaying, or suppressing it. Jesus was merely a Quirk user, and a symbol of the new Genesis, the Second Genisis to come. And, Quirkless are just a byproduct of the pre-Genisis.'
'Bogus. Though, they don't really care about the faith anymore. They're more like pure-Quirk-evangelists. Like the Meta Liberation, but more on the study than the freedom of use.'
[The woman starts speaking, "The Second Genesis is-"]
[You interrupt, "Wait, sorry, I do know. Kanzō, Christianity, Nonchurch, Quirks, gift, and divine purpose. I apologize, I forgot I already knew this."]
'You don't want to listen to another explanation.'
["Wow!" She turns around, "You know quite a lot already. Are you a follower?"]
[Your smile dims to a neutral state, "No, I'm a debt collector."]
[Her pace halts, face twinged with strife, "...debt?"]
[You crack your knuckles and swipe your hair to the side, "Yes, I'm here to collect some debt." Rubbing your neck, "Let's see, the church... 1 mill loan, 4 percent every day, 3 months... 50 million debt." You snap your fingers, "50 million." Pointing to the floor in front of you, "Here, right now."]
[A distortion of confusion and fear, she stammers, "I-I know of no debt!-But..."]
'A clockwork puzzle finally clicking it's last piece, finishing the work.'
[She collapses, "...no, it... it can't." Her gaze to the floor at your feet.]
'Scorned.'
[You clap your hands, "Madam, is the one responsible for this debt here?"]
[After a few moments, "no."]
["Ma'am, are you or the others able to fulfill this debt?"]
["...no."]
["Miss, I've done terrible things today, are you going to be next?"]
["..." Horror flashes on her face, she looks up, "Monster," to the wicked smile on your face.]
["That's not very nice girl." You step closer, she shivers but stays still. "I could... pluck your pearls, maybe take a flower's petal, or sell a very valuable donor," You linger a bit before the 'but', "...But, I'm interested in acquiring the church."]
'Her eyes dilate and pulse, every word heightening her noisy mind.'
[You lean closer to her, crouching to the floor meeting her face, "Smile. Be happy I'm merciful." You reach over almost touching her cheek, "Unless..."]
[She flinches, "NO, I accept."]
[You stand, "The church or your body?"]
["Y-you fiend, the church!" She looks away, "I... I don't even own the church. Talk to Makoto."]
["Makoto? Ironic isn't it?"]
["What?"]
["Never mind."]
...
'Next order of business, a workshop. It seems that corporations are becoming the major market powerhouses, small businesses no longer have the capacity to handle every Quirk.'
'These buildings are shorter than most of the region, a building style aged by time, never rebuilt. Most are two stories, one for the business, the other for living. Rows make it a district, perhaps long ago it was bustling with commerce, now, it's just taking up space.'
'Rain-shutters curve downwards, dry, marks of decay mold them into darkened sinking ships. Piles of plastic boxes, and flattened cardboard stacked and fallen into a mulch. Stickers and postages line the walls and poles, all expired and too old to even recognize some.'
'You see a festival event from more than 40 years ago. It's paper is merged into wall, the ink entirely staining the stone.'
[You stand in a run down street, where a workshop lies, the Kokuhaku Workshop.]
'Not the Confession Workshop, 告白工房, a Black and White Workshop, 黒白工房.'
'Such a misunderstanding by word of mouth may have contributed to the lack of business.'
'The rest of the businesses are closed, the few exceptions are a food vendor that is closed for most of the week, or a random trinket salesperson.'
'Not even the homeless stay here.'
[At the store, the metal gates are sealed, but a paper sign says to come in, pointing to a door to the side.]
[You knock on the door, "Yo, yo." And then you turn the knob.]
'It loosens in your grip and clicks clean, opening the way.'
[Pushing the door away with a hand, you walk on in.]
'The immediate smell of dust, water, and metal.'
'Disgusting. The thought of smithing is just abhorrent. Why waste time on such useless things. Nothing will be as good. This world has no special materials, no fantasy, no whimsy. This reality simply cannot handle you.'
'Hold on, let's not be hasty. Remember Condenium, a Quirk material that is malleable and can act in specific directions. A physics-breaking material.'
'Could that split planets? Seal the Dao? Even make a scratch on an Immortal? Mortal shit is mortal shit.'
'I agree, it's boring. The body is already a forged weapon.'
[With a sigh, you look around as the dust settles from the moonlight and into a dimly lit room.]
'A waiting room, or more so a backroom closet with a few chairs to a wall. The chairs are dusty as hell and have boxes of scrap on them. Moonlight brightly beams from a small slit of a window from the top of the wall. The beams illuminate a door across from you, presumably the workshop. The tiles below you are cracked and have begun to subduct. Tracks of dirt and swift marks of human tracks.'
'A worker's boot. Old, sturdy, and with weight. Contrasts with the other shoe prints. A modern shoe. Worn, flatter, and tracks less dust.'
'A family owned business? A father and their son? The shoes aren't feminine, especially with the weight of the prints.'
[You take a deep smell of the area.]
'Underneath the grime of metal and oil, you can smell the scent of males. No sweet or sour females. A musky smell of carbon and ash, a smoker.'
'You'd like to think it were a female. Female blacksmiths were your favorite, easy to yield their favor. A little skill and affection could swoon any smith.'
["Yoo-hoo! Anybody home?" You raise your voice.]
[Silence.]
'Deeper in the recesses of the building, behind the closed door, a shuffle. The lightest shift of a shoe on dusty concrete flooring.'
[You stare towards the direction of a faint noise through the solid walls, "Sorry, I'm so soooo~ late, but I'm here for some important business."]
[Steps that could be called stomping march on over and to the opposite side of the door.]
'A stout man will reveal himself.'
[Swinging the door open, "Whadda want so late at night..." Looking up and down at you, "...Boy?"]
'You could only describe the short man before you as a dwarf. Bearded to the chest, locks of grimy bushels of hair, and a sharp look with a honker of a nose.'
'On closer inspection, this man may actually be of dwarf species.'
[You tilt your head, "Dwarf?"]
["Bah! Dwarf? Nonsense boy! Cut me open and you'd find rice!" He points, "Now, whaddya want, boy! Wearing that mask is weird!"]
'Come now, All Might is the symbol of peace, some positive feelings should be felt upon seeing my face.'
["Dwarf, I'm here to collect some debts."]
["Ey, I ain't no- Debt?..." The man scratches his head, murmuring, "Ohhhh... oh noooo..." He sighs, "Aye, it's me, I fucked it up." He raises his hands, "But I don't have no money! I swear! Swear on me precious life!"]
'The man's rough voice is like music to your ears, it's been so long since you've heard the sounds of a working man.'
[You nod calmly, "There's no problem here, dwarf." You look around, still in the waiting room, "Let's get inside first, I have a proposition that... removes your debt."]
'His eyes sparkle. Must be a good deal for him, he's excited.'
["Aye, lad! C'mon through! Show you roond the shop." He curtseys and backsteps into his workshop inviting you, "Take a wee look but don't be fiddling around oke?"]
[You nod and walk inside, following the dwarf's guidance.]
'Boredom, mixed with a hint of disgust. The inside of this place is retched with... projects. Imperfections everywhere, the signs of amateur play.'
'Considering this dwarf has lived at least, no, exactly 46 years old, his progress isn't total dogshit. Maybe if he spent a million years in a smithy, he'd improve to a fledgling.'
'That dwarf isn't an immortal, not like yourself in a past life.'
'Dream, *No* Nightmare.'
["Sooo, quaint place you got here."]
'Metal shelves filled with loose boxes of scraps, random labels, and tools strewn around. Clumsy organization over tens of years accumulated into a system, a system only he knows.'
'A hanging bicycle on wires is above, vintage model, looks repaired but is collecting dust, a forgotten piece. On the wall are numerous nails and tacks, places where a clock would be set, die or break, and be placed somewhere else; Or frames of memories, slowly put up and later taken down. Paint droppings from the opening of tins when first brought, create a drop painting on the concrete floor, a lazy masterpiece a wealthy launderer would buy for millions if put on a canvas with a story.'
'A glimpse of this dwarf's mind, the path he usually takes, the tools he actively uses and sets down, the desk and table he sits at, and the table he works on. You see the recent use of a hammer, and the forgotten wrench saddled on a plastic box of batteries. A coffee stain on the table, with a mug on a different one. At his desk, the planning place, he has a vice grip attached and a wall of hanging tools, the board peeling but still functionable.'
'It's a fascinating phenomenon of an artist. To be meticulous on a project, neglecting the workplace. A focus on the goal and slowly losing the care to maintain the setting. It shows character, and the some that clean and keep their station maintained, are simply freaks.'
["Aye there lad, took me my whole life, working here. Ain't a loose screw I can't find." He sits at his desk, a standard but old office chair.]
["So, the deal."]
["Yes, yes, the deal you have. C'mon, lay it on me."]
["Alright, to be up front, I wish to use your services."]
["..."]
["..."]
["That all, lad?"]
[You nod, "Yes, and the debt is washed away."]
["Aye..." He scratches his beard, "What's the catch? There's always a catch."]
'Servitude.'
["There's no catch. I'll even be paying for your work."]
["..."]
[You smile, "I just need a special blacksmith, willing to do special things for me, or, the new organization the Blue Waters is under."]
["I see... what's the name of me new lender?"]
["We are the Numbers."]
["Numbers, ey? Not very creative are ye? I guess you can count then."]
["It is a method of hierarchy within the organization, keeps things easy to manage."]
'For someone else to take over the Numbers so you can ditch.'
["Smart one ain'tcha? I can't get even my own son, me own damn blood, to do things right."]
[You nod politely, "Well, I require masks."]
["Like the one on your face? All Might?"]
["No, I bought this from a cheap mart. I require an official looking mask, y'now, the gangster sort of type."]
["Animal masks?"]
["No, more mysterious factor, a sleek white mask with eye holes and a mouth slit, and a number engraved on the forehead."]
["..." After a pause, the dwarf places his fist into his palm in revelation, "Ah! The Numbers! I see, very easy to recognize then."]
["Precisely."]
'Also for when one of them dies, you can just give it to the next person.'
["Do ye have a sketch, a wee drawing for me to inspire?"]
["I can draw some right now, but I require a method of the manufacturing."]
["Aye, the 'special' thing."]
[You look around, "Do you have a bucket I can use?"]
["Er, I guess, lemme looksie." He turns around his chair and finds a white plastic bucket, "Here's a bucket." He grabs it and sets it on his desk.]
[Stripping off your suit, you take off the coat, and then the dress shirt, revealing your bare chest.]
["Fucking hell, lad, yer scarred to all hell! Gangster shit, say."]
☐Artificial Series☐
╰┈➤☐SUPER REGENERATION☐
[You pound your chest like a drum, fracturing parts of your ribs. Again, you pound harder and harder, shattering and splintering apart the cage surrounding your organs. When soft and soppy, as bones begin to harden again, you pierce the bruised skin layer and dig through the taught muscles beneath, peeling past the striations. Sinew and fascia silk across the organs, you don't mind it and dig further till poking a tougher flesh, the heart. A throbbing muscle of pure function is at your fingertips, pulsing with a double step, you creep your fingers around and feel a tense sensation halting your breath. With the aorta ends and arteries between your fingers, you quickly grasp and pinch off the valves and veins, separating the major connecting viscera. With a twist and pull, you yank out your own beating heart as the regrowing rib cage scratches your arm coming out. And thus, in your hand is a beating heart, squirting blood and throbbing, the silky smooth webs and fat clinging on. Swiftly, you plop the heart in the bucket and lean over to face inside the bucket.]
'A churning in your stomach.'
[With projectile force, blood and bone fragments jettison out of your mouth and into the bucket. Liters of blood and bone bits with various random human parts spilling into the bucket, filling only half a quarter.]
[To your gaze, a pale horrified stout man is gawking with his eyes busted open. Aghast, he cannot speak.]
'Well, a few more times would fill it.'
...
'The last on the list of important individuals is a hero.'
[You tug on your suit, fitting it in place nicely.]
'The reflection of the rays of sun glow off the grey ash moon above this side of the world. A minor existence in this vast reality. A mere light ray within it's own time dilation is but a mere fizzling dying fire.'
'Shadows pull the buildings down into rudimentary shapes. The unknown masks in a flat plane, the depth blurred by darkness.'
[As you walk the night, you rub your eyes and look around.]
'The pupils in your eyes change and the sphincter in the gel waves like a sea creature, or fungus reacting to deterrents. A morphing spherical ball within the socket capturing absent light, rods bubble and crease, the darkness not darker than oblivion. Even the shadow in a closed box has dead light within, for the box is not entirely empty.'
[Grey lines form depth and show a mapping of your surroundings. You cannot read the papers on the walls away from you except for the times a light pole shines it's own light.]
'Words spill out your mouth.'
["Blink blonk. Rock and Stone. I wanna eat spicy. Did you like the tea? Sorry for that punch. We're fucked. I'm bored. It hurts. Smells good. Kill him. That hurt. Dark. I'm a sexual tyrannosaurus."]
...
'A heavenly light vanishes, an unsightly hollow creasing the edge of atmosphere. Beyond the steps, these steps, evil follows.'
'A particular corner of the city. A vagrant haven, a killer's delight, a poor man's barrel which has reached it's bottom. You pass the boundary of what is called 'society' and now enter the domain of animals.'
'These animals don't hunger for only food and money, they hunger for attention. Fiends, more apt to be called goblins.'
[On the last of your list, the hero's residence. Notably, it's in a bad part of the neighborhood, of the bad part of the city, of the bad part of the country.]
'The hero is a washed up non-ranker. A nobody, barely passing the license, it's a beginners luck in a hardcore world.'
'He borrowed a large sum of money and hasn't paid it back in a long time, the interest has accumulated to exponential degrees. The only reason it hasn't been collected is the high risk of facing a relatively powerful Quirk user.'
'Part of being a loan shark is knowing your targets and being able to collect, it seems the hero was once a repeat loaner so Blue Waters gave him some slack. Time to get what he owes.'
'TEACH HIM A LESSON.'
'You just need his cooperation into bolstering your Numbers.'
[Stepping forward, you reach a rusted gate before a stone paved entrance.]
'Blocky, rigid, overgrown. Flat, one-story residential failure, built atop of a winding hill.'
'The stones are shattered into broken patterns, popped out of their sockets and tossed around. Rain has washed the dirt into the missing pieces, making the shaped twist and curl apart like nails growing gnarly.'
[Pushing aside the rusted gate, it creaks with a horrendous noise.]
'The oil-starved metal screams like a mandrake at harvest. A searing sharp sound that is abnormally loud. It's a piercing noise that makes gooses bump or twitch the eyes.'
'A simmering anger within you. That noise is not something you like.'
[You smear the stone flooring with a swivel till it polishes smooth, lightly whittling down the grit on your shoe.]
'Bad juju.'
[A waft of something rotten.]
'Sulfur immolated into gas, ammonia spilled without regard, sweet shriveled fruits, all make the smell of death, aged death.'
'A human response, a reaction that stems from ancestors, the genetic code that lingered in the surviving tribes, a reflex that senses corpses.'
'A dead body, weeks dead. The smell is still faint, so it's in the house.'
[That smell of rotten is a dead body, the whereabouts is unknown, but probably in the residence.]
'It's invasive. Greasy. Like licking the ground of an old grease stain, clinging onto your tongue, making saliva mix like oil.'
'It's not unfamiliar to you, that's what makes it bearable, familiar. Every organic organism has the potential to make this smell within them, it's just a flip of the switch to make it come out.'
[Walking the unstable overgrown stone entrance, you reach the humble door.]
'Unfortunate the hero has died, most likely by choice. Probably a inferiority complex mixed with a weak mind. Strength comes from grit and hard work, but mentality matters as well. Enlightenment, to learn from one's experience and mistakes. To grind down your blade into just a hilt is foolish, it must be applied with knowledge and experience, to sharpen and maintain.'
'The smell is strong, it must be a larger body, male, and slightly overweight. Dead in the living room.'
'Ironic.'
'A note blinks in your mind: The hero was married, but the wife was killed by a villain. He was not alone, he had a child to take care of.'
'Killed himself with a kid? Where would the child be, or, maybe it was a double.'
[You reach and grasp the handle's knob, twist, and open it.]
'A mush of fat seeps into the fabric of the sofa. Melting, an obscured figure is collapsed into a slug-like status.'
'Warning, the hazardous gasses are now exposed. Cover your face, despite your immense endurance, it's better to be safe.'
'Don't worry, the smell won't disappear for a while. It's sticky hands have already molested you and all your clothes.'
[Tearing more of your suit jacket, you makeshift a mask. Prepped, you walk into the domicile.]
'The skeleton is still covered in a film of decay. Like mushy peas on some bangin' mash, this bungle of a mess is grotesque.'
'Despite that, the figure seems to be a single body. The cranium split apart, cause of death, self-inflicted. Quirk, Hunter's Mark, able to inflict a weak point into a location within sight. A gaze in the mirror, he marked his head, then a simple facepalm hemorrhaged his brain.'
[No bludgeoning wounds, just the skin around the head bulging and peeling apart due to a swelling cranium. Exploded from the inside, trapping gas and liquids till a burst of noxious fumes.]
'The purest form of Miasma.'
["Hello? I'm here for a delivery?" You step forward more, "I'm looking for a..."]
'The state of the house, shabby: no second floor, forgotten trash, lack of furniture, dirty rags, no toys, no books, grimey, dark, water logged, rotten food, busted lights, wood caved in, rocks, dust, and a dead body.'
'Notice: A small footprint has been trotting around. Age: 12. No, 14, some malnutrition has shrunken the bones.'
'And it's recent, the tracks move along a path that swept dust through the kitchen area. The child is roaming free.'
'Like an animal, feral. To exist in these conditions is extraordinary for this world.'
'Male, the smell is of a boy.'
["...Boy." You sweep your head around, watching the walls and corners.]
'There, instantly you notice it, a second room, closed by a door.'
["Young man, I'm here to reclaim you."]
'Debt must be collected, passed down by generation. The boy will do, and perhaps his Quirk will be useful'
[You step to the closed door, knocking thrice, "I'm here to help."]
'A tunnel fills with pressure. Heating from the compression. Then, a contraction of ease, the density releases with flow of lethargy.'
'A slight breath of air is heard from within. The sound of nocturnal respiration.'
[You fiddle with the door knob and twist it open, "...sleepy boy."]
'Before you...'
'Presented...'
'OFFERED...'
'All for you...'
'Within sight... smell... hearing...'
'A shell.'
'Covered in blood.'
...