The urban landscape shifted once more.
Buildings sank into the ground. New ones rose in their place. Streets rearranged themselves like pieces on a chessboard. Fire hydrants burst. Smoke machines hissed to life. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance.
A full-scale disaster zone.
At the center, standing atop a steel beam like a rodeo king surveying his ranch, was Sniper.
He adjusted his hat and grinned.
"Well now, listen up, you bright-eyed broncos!" he hollered. "This here game's about savin' the biggest heap o' citizens in five minutes flat!"
He paced dramatically across the beam.
"But I reckon some of y'all are wonderin'—" he cupped a hand to his ear theatrically, "'Ain't that gonna take longer than a turtle crossin' the prairie if we go one by one?'"
He spun his revolver.
"That's why you'll be ridin' in posses! Four members each!"
A massive screen lit up, displaying GROUP PHASE: RESCUE OPERATION.
"And the four posses with the scrawniest score…" He tilted his hat lower, shadow covering his eyes. "…will be sent packin' straight outta this rodeo!"
Bang!
Bang!
Gunshots echoed through the arena.
"You've got two minutes to form yer squads! Don't get left without a saddle!"
...
Instant chaos.
Third-years immediately clustered together.
Reputation. Established teamwork. Trusted Quirks.
This wasn't a solo qualification round anymore. This was exposure. Agency scouts were watching.
And no one wanted to gamble on a first-year wild card.
Ren stood still.
Ignored.
He was Ren Takeda, yes.
But this was the U.A. Sports Festival of U.A. High School. This was where careers were born. No one was sacrificing their future just to get to know him.
He exhaled quietly.
If only I could do it alone…
A hand landed on his shoulder.
"Hey, first year! Join my group!"
Ren didn't even need to turn.
Too loud. Too cheerful. Too confident.
He sighed.
Mirio.
Ren turned slowly.
There he was—Mirio Togata—smiling so brightly his teeth practically reflected the stadium lights.
Behind him stood two third-years.
One had short black hair, sharp eyes, tense posture.
The other had striking red eyes, currently wide with disbelief.
"M-Mirio… what are you doing?" the black-haired one whispered urgently.
"Are you for real?" the red-eyed one added, staring at Ren like he was a risky stock investment.
"Yeah, why?" Mirio asked casually.
"He'll slow us down—"
Mirio raised a hand, cutting them off effortlessly.
"I think he'll be a huge help," he said, still smiling. "Actually… I think he might be stronger than you."
Silence.
The red-eyed student's jaw twitched.
"What? You're joking, right?"
Ren didn't react outwardly.
But inwardly—
He smiled.
Mirio tilted his head.
"Nope. I'm serious."
"You can't just decide that based on nothing!" the black-haired one snapped. "You barely know him!"
Mirio's grin didn't falter.
"I can feel it."
"…You can what?" the red-eyed one muttered. "Mirio, are you messing with us?"
Mirio's eyes shifted slightly toward Ren.
Sharp.
Not playful.
Just for a second.
"I'm not."
Before anyone could argue further—
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Sniper fired into the air again.
"Time's up, you herd of headless horses!" he bellowed. "Hope y'all picked yer posses, 'cause the gates are closin'!"
...
Each group was assigned a letter.
Ren glanced up at the massive screen.
GROUP A
That meant one thing.
They were first.
A ripple moved through the stadium. The opening team always set the standard. Too slow, and they'd look unimpressive. Too flashy, and they'd become the benchmark everyone else would aim to surpass.
Usually, teams built their entire strategy around their fastest member. With only ten minutes on the clock, speed dictated everything—route optimization, search patterns, vertical coverage.
But Ren's group…
The two third-years immediately huddled together.
"We should split into quadrants."
"No, Mirio can phase through structures—he should handle collapsed zones. We'll sweep streets and rooftops."
"What about evacuation stacking—"
Mirio wasn't listening.
Ren wasn't either.
They stood a few meters apart.
Both calm.
Both thinking the exact same thing.
Why would I need a strategy for something this simple?
The countdown hit zero.
Sniper raised his revolver dramatically.
"Group A… ready…"
A beat of silence.
Bang!
"GO!"
Mirio grinned—
—and sank straight into the ground.
The concrete swallowed him whole.
A split second later, he popped out several meters ahead, rising from the asphalt like a golden phantom before diving back under again.
The two third-years bolted forward.
The red-eyed one glanced back—
Ren hadn't moved.
He stood still.
Eyes closed.
'What is he doing?' the red-eyed student thought, irritation rising. 'Does he expect us to carry him?'
He clicked his tongue and faced forward.
'Tch. This is what we get for letting Mirio drag him in—'
A streak of white shot past him.
Not running.
Not dashing.
A flash.
"What—?!"
Ren.
Lightning coiled around him like a living mantle. The air around his body distorted subtly—smooth, streamlined.
Slipstream.
He minimized air resistance.
Ren accelerated.
BOOOOOM.
A shockwave detonated through the mock city.
Windows rattled. Dust blasted outward. Debris skidded across the asphalt.
The red-eyed student stumbled mid-stride.
"What?!"
Up on the steel beam, even Sniper froze.
"The prodigy…" he muttered, lowering his gun slowly. "He just busted clean through the sound barrier…"
The crowd fell into stunned silence.
Ren's perception sharpened.
Eagle Eye activated.
His consciousness split—
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Five simultaneous fields of awareness expanded across the urban grid.
Citizens.
His body moved before thought fully formed.
A building.
He was there.
A trapped civilian under fallen beams—rescued.
+50 POINTS
A rooftop victim surrounded by artificial flames—extracted.
+50 POINTS
A crushed vehicle three streets down—handled.
+50 POINTS
The scoreboard began climbing.
Rapidly.
Relentlessly.
Mirio resurfaced from underground, holding a rescued mannequin civilian under one arm.
He blinked.
"…Huh?"
The scoreboard already displayed triple digits.
"What's happening—"
Bang!
Sniper fired into the air again, this time not theatrically.
But because he genuinely needed attention.
"The… the citizens…" he stammered, staring at the tablet in his hand.
His voice cracked through the arena speakers.
"All of 'em… have been rescued."
Silence.
He swallowed.
"In one minute."
The digital clock above still read:
03:59
Mirio stood in the middle of the street, blinking.
"…What?"
The crowd didn't react at first.
They couldn't process it.
Then—
It erupted.
Cheers detonated like fireworks.
"REN TAKEDA!"
"REN TAKEDA!"
"REN TAKEDA!"
The chant spread through the stadium like wildfire.
Students.
Spectators.
Even agency scouts leaned forward in disbelief.
Ren stood at the center of the artificial city.
Wind curling faintly around him.
Lightning dissipating into harmless sparks.
He looked around at the roaring crowd.
And then—
He grinned.
To be continued...
***
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How was this chapter? Liked it?
Have I made Ren show off a bit too much?