Location: Naruhata Ward – Commercial District
Time: Two Days Later | Morning
STEP. STEP.
Kaito walked down the freshly paved sidewalk. The morning sun hit the clean asphalt.
The entire commercial block was buzzing with people.
Shoppers were already walking in and out of the massive corner supermarket. The cracked, ruined alleyways from last disaster were completely gone.
Kurogane walked right next to him. The big construction foreman hooked his thumbs into his tool belt.
He looked up at the solid storefronts with a massive, proud grin.
"I gotta hand it to you, Boss," Kurogane laughed, slapping a thick hand against a brick pillar. "When you told me to compact the dirt to ninety-five percent and merge all these foundations, I thought we'd be stuck pouring concrete until next year. Look at this block. It's a fortress."
"You guys put in the real work, Kurogane," Kaito said.
"We had some serious investment this time," Kurogane grinned. He pointed a thick finger toward the roof of the supermarket. "My company bought a fleet of those Detnerat-Shield construction drones. They hauled all the high-beam steel up top while we poured the quick-dry mix down below. Saved us weeks of sweating."
"Smart move," Kaito nodded. "Keep those drones tuned up. I'll definitely have more jobs for your crew soon."
They turned the corner and walked down the residential street.
They stopped right in front of Kaito's apartment building.
A brand new third floor sat perfectly on top of the original structure. The exterior walls were painted a clean, modern grey.
Kurogane crossed his massive arms and stared up at the building.
"I still can't believe the materials you gave us for this one," Kurogane said, shaking his head. "We injected those experimental Shield resins straight into the main support beams. We layered the nano-polymers inside the drywall. I actually took a twelve-pound sledgehammer to the side wall yesterday just to test it."
Kaito raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"Almost broke my damn wrists," Kurogane chuckled loudly. "The hammer bounced right off. Didn't even leave a scratch."
"Perfect," Kaito smiled. "I want this place surviving anything."
Kurogane held out his rough, calloused hand.
Kaito reached out and shook it firmly.
"Thanks for the hustle," Kaito said. "I'll authorize your final payment transfer today."
"Anytime, Mr. Arisaka. See ya around," Kurogane waved, turning around and heading back toward his work trucks.
Kaito walked up to the front gate. He pulled out his keys, unlocked the heavy security door, and stepped inside.
CLACK.
The lobby smelled like fresh wood and new paint.
CHATTER.
Loud, happy voices echoed from the main communal living area down the hall.
Kaito walked down the corridor and stepped into the room.
The place was full of life.
Koichi sat on the floor mat, eating a bowl of cereal. Kazuho was leaning over the back of the couch, showing Makoto something funny on her phone.
Iwao sat in a heavy armchair with a cup of black coffee. His wife sat on the couch next to Makoto.
Their daughter Tamao was flipping through a magazine at the kitchen island.
"Morning, everyone," Kaito called out casually.
"Hey Kaito!" Koichi smiled, raising his spoon.
Makoto looked up from Kazuho's phone.
"I was just looking at the local listings," Makoto said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "The property value in Naruhata just spiked again this morning. Owning twenty-six buildings here makes you one of the richest guys in the district, Kaito."
"I just wanted a productive neighborhood," Kaito laughed.
He walked over to the coffee maker on the counter, grabbed a mug, and poured himself a cup.
Iwao's wife looked over at him with a very warm, genuine smile.
"We really appreciate everything you did with the building, Kaito," she said softly. "Iwao told me you made sure the crew worked around us. I honestly thought living on the bottom floor while a third floor was being built would be a nightmare. We barely heard a thing."
"Yeah!" Tamao chimed in from the island. "Those little flying drones did all the loud stuff outside. It was actually pretty cool to watch them build the roof from my window."
"I'm glad it wasn't a hassle," Kaito said, taking a sip of his coffee. "I told the contractor to let the machines haul the steel. That way, you guys wouldn't choke on dust or listen to hammering all day."
Iwao took a slow drink from his mug. He looked around the reinforced room.
"The walls feel solid," Iwao grunted his approval. "Good security doors. Nobody is kicking their way in here anytime soon."
"That's the idea," Kaito agreed.
"It really feels like a totally different place," Kazuho smiled, looking around the bright room.
She turned to Kaito and grinned. "It is kind of weird knowing my friend is actually my super-rich landlord, though."
"I still live in the same building, Kazuho," Kaito joked, pointing his coffee mug at her. "Nothing changes. You guys just get better windows and a safer roof over your heads."
"Well, we love it," Koichi said, finishing his cereal and setting the bowl down. "Naruhata finally feels like a real, top-tier ward. And man, the walls are amazing. I don't hear the street traffic at all anymore."
"That was a priority," Kaito said, setting his coffee mug down on the counter. "I had the crew pack double-thick soundproofing foam inside all the exterior walls. You guys can actually sleep through the night without hearing the police sirens or the trains passing by."
"It really makes a huge difference," Makoto agreed, leaning back on the couch. "It feels like a luxury hotel in here."
*-*-*-*
Location: Yokohama – Underground Bar
Time: Night
SCRATCH.
SCRATCH.
Tomura Shigaraki sat on a wooden barstool.
He dug his fingernails deep into his own neck, tearing at the dry skin. Small drops of blood pooled under his fingernails.
The bar was completely dark. A single small lamp lit up the counter.
CLINK.
Kurogiri stood behind the bar. He held a white cloth and wiped down a glass. He placed the clean glass onto the shelf behind him.
"Please stop scratching, Tomura," Kurogiri said quietly.
Tomura ignored him. He dragged his nails across his collarbone again.
"The whole game is rigged," Tomura hissed. His voice was hoarse and shaking with anger. "It makes absolutely zero sense. Sensei is the Final Boss. He has the highest stats on the server. You don't just walk up and one-shot him."
Kurogiri picked up another glass and started wiping it.
"We all watched the live broadcast, Tomura," Kurogiri said.
BANG.
Tomura slammed his fist down onto the counter. The wood splintered slightly under his knuckles.
"I saw a hacker use a dev command!" Tomura yelled, his eyes wide and bloodshot. "That bastard Hero X showed up and completely broke the physics engine. He folded a tsunami. He stopped an earthquake with a slap. And then he just crumpled Sensei up like a piece of trash. The level cap is completely broken."
Tomura stared at his own hands. The hands that were supposed to decay society.
"I am stuck in the starting zone," Tomura muttered, scratching his neck again. "Sensei told me I was his successor. But he has his own clones now. He has the Doctor. He doesn't even need me. Where the hell is he?"
"We do not know," Kurogiri answered. He set his cloth down. "The Master has not contacted us since the Tartarus prison break. We are completely disconnected from his current plans."
SLIDE.
Kurogiri poured a small amount of cheap liquor into a fresh glass. He pushed it across the counter toward Tomura.
"If the Master is absent, sitting in this bar accomplishes nothing," Kurogiri advised him. "You need to decide your own next move."
Tomura glared at the glass. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar.
"What am I supposed to do?" Tomura asked, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "I can't fight Hero X. It's an instant Game Over. My stats are garbage compared to that."
Kurogiri leaned slightly over the counter. The dark purple mist of his body swirled slowly around his metal collar.
"Then you must gain experience," Kurogiri suggested. "The underground is shifting right now. My contacts on the streets say a massive new syndicate is forming."
Tomura scoffed. "Who cares about a bunch of low level NPCs grouping up?"
"You should care about this group," Kurogiri told him. "The brokers are uniting the outcasts and the vigilantes. And they are using Hero X as their absolute figurehead. They worship him as a god."
Tomura froze.
His fingers stopped moving against his neck. The scratching stopped completely.
He stared blankly at the wall behind the bar.
A massive, violent disgust twisted his face. The idea of a giant fan club worshipping the guy who humiliated his master made his blood boil.
It felt like a direct insult. A rival guild claiming the top spot on the server.
GULP.
Tomura grabbed the glass of liquor. He threw it back and swallowed the cheap burn in one gulp.
CLACK.
He slammed the empty glass back onto the wood.
"A fan club," Tomura sneered. "A whole guild of trash mobs praising a hacker."
He stood up from the stool. The panicked, lost kid from five minutes ago was gone. His eyes were totally focused.
"If Sensei isn't coming back right now, I am taking the controller," Tomura declared. "We are going to grind. We need to build our own party."
Kurogiri straightened up. "What is your target, Tomura?"
"We are going to crash their server," Tomura smiled.
It was a cold, cruel smile. "Find out where this stupid vigilante network meets. We will hunt them down, crush their little fan club, and steal any players worth keeping. I am going to build my own guild."
"Understood," Kurogiri bowed slightly. "I will gather the coordinates from the brokers."
Tomura turned his back and walked toward the exit of the bar.
*-*-*-*
Location: Tokyo – Abandoned Warehouse
Time: Three Months Ago (Flashback)
PITTER-PATTER.
The rain poured hard against the metal roof.
Inside the massive warehouse, the air was hot and smelled like wet clothes and cheap cigarettes.
Over two hundred people stood in the dark.
Street thugs, mutants with extra arms or scales, and unnamed vigilantes crowded together.
They looked exhausted.
Just a few days ago, most of them were huddled in civilian evacuation shelters waiting for the world to end.
Spinner stood near a concrete pillar, gripping his massive sword made of chained-together knives.
Twice paced in a tight circle. "This is a great party! I hate everyone here!"
Mr. Compress sat on a stack of wooden pallets, quietly rolling a silver coin across his knuckles.
Over in the shadows, Stendhal stood perfectly still.
On the other side of the room, Dabi sat on a rusted car hood together with his subordinates. He looked completely bored, staring at the ceiling.
CLAP. CLAP.
Giran stood on top of a shipping container in the center of the room.
He dropped his hands and looked down at the massive crowd through his round glasses.
"Alright, listen up," Giran yelled over the noise. "I know half of you want to kill each other. I know a lot of people didn't show up tonight because they are too paranoid. But you guys came."
"Why did you call us here?!" a guy with lizard scales shouted from the back. "The streets are crazy right now! Pros and their sidekicks are flipping every part in the city! Those HPSC agents were included."
"That is exactly why I called you," Giran answered plainly. "The heroes had won. The Demon King is gone. The top ranks are sweeping the wards. If you walk out there alone tomorrow, you are going to get thrown in a cell. After all don't forget most of you guys have unknown identities and vigiliantes"
A scarred thug stepped forward, pointing a switchblade at Giran.
"So what?" the thug yelled. "You want us to form an army? Take orders from a guy like you? I work alone!"
PUUF.
"Nobody is forming an army," Giran said casually, pulling out a cigarette. "You all stay solo. You keep doing your own thing. I am offering you a safety net."
Giran lit his cigarette and took a drag.
"An anonymous message board," Giran explained. "A dark web network. You see a hero patrol? You post it. Someone needs a safe house password? You share it. You get cornered by a pro? You call for backup. It is a warning system so we don't all get wiped out."
The crowd went quiet.
The mutants and street thugs looked at each other. They were used to fighting alone. The idea of having a backup alarm sounded really good right now.
"A network needs a name," Spinner called out looking at Stenhdal across the hall, holding his sword up. "If we aren't an army, what flag are we flying?"
Giran grinned.
He knew exactly what to say.
"We fly the name of the guy who actually saved our lives today," Giran said loudly. "Hero X."
The warehouse erupted into loud murmurs.
Stendhal stepped out of the shadows. The crowd nervously parted for the terrifying vigilante.
"He is the true savior," Stendhal rasped, his eyes burning with absolute focus. "He cleansed the world of the fakes today. He showed us the true path. I will follow his name."
Over on the rusted car hood, Dabi pulled his hand out of his pocket. He pressed his thumb to his middle finger.
SNAP.
FWOOSH.
A bright blue spark lit up the dark space.
"The guy walked in, embarrassed the strongest people on the planet, and left without saying a word," Dabi smirked. "I'm down with that."
Huff-puff.
"So it's settled," Giran smiled, blowing smoke into the air, after all what he really needed were those vigiliantes that were strong enough to hold the pros. "We use the network to survive. But our main goal is to find Hero X. We track him down, we bring him out of the shadows, and we make him our official representative."
"WOOOOHH!"
The crowd cheered loudly. The biggest underground secret network in Japan was just born.
*-*-*-*
Location: Tokyo – The Underground Hub
Time: Present Day
CHATTER.
CLINK.
The old warehouse was fully renovated. Server racks hummed in the corner.
Hired hackers sat behind monitors, managing the dark-web message boards.
Dozens of thugs and vigilantes sat around metal tables, drinking cheap beer and sharing street rumors.
This was the neutral zone.
Everyone had their own separate safe houses, but they came here to trade gear and get paid.
"I love the drinks here!" Twice yelled, hugging a random mutant at the bar. "This beer tastes like absolute piss! I'm leaving!"
The mutant just laughed and pushed Twice off.
Over by the main intel board, Spinner shifted his weight.
He held his massive knife-sword. He watched Stendhal pin a map of Tokyo to the corkboard.
"Hey, Stendhal," Spinner said, trying to sound tough but clearly fanboying. "I saw your posts. You're tracking the big guys now. Let me tag along tonight. We can team up."
Stendhal didn't turn around. He drew a red circle on the map with a marker.
"No," Stendhal rasped. "You just want to swing a sword. You have no real conviction. I work alone."
Spinner frowned and gripped his weapon tighter. "Come on, man. I can help."
"I don't need help," Stendhal replied coldly.
Tap. Tap.
He tapped the red circle on the map. "The HPSC captured the Tartarus escapees during the disaster. They are hiding them in temporary black sites around the city. The government is too weak to execute them properly."
Stendhal turned his head, staring at Spinner through his broken mask.
"The heroes just lock the filth away so they can break out again," Stendhal said. "I am going to find those holding facilities. I will break in and kill the inmates myself. The pain of my blade will cleanse their sins."
Mr. Compress sat at a nearby table.
He shuffled a deck of cards with one hand.
"A harsh critic," Compress chuckled, sliding a card across the table. "But the government certainly needs a director to fix their script."
CLACK. CLACK.
Giran sat behind a large metal desk in the center of the room.
He typed on his laptop.
He reached into a lockbox, pulled out a stack of yen, and handed it to an informant sitting across from him.
"Good intel," Giran said. "Buy a drink."
Dabi walked past the desk. He wore his heavy black coat.
He carried a duffel bag full of Yakuza-funded weapons.
"Leaving early?" Giran asked, tapping his cigarette over an ashtray.
Dabi stopped. He pulled out his phone and swiped the screen.
"I have errands," Dabi said lazily. "Endeavor raided three of my setups for the past few month. He burned my place and chased me through half the city. It was incredibly annoying."
"And tonight?" Giran asked.
"Tonight, I actually have his schedule," Dabi smirked, tapping the message board app on his phone. "Some guy just posted Endeavor's route. I'm going to wait until the flaming idiot was alone."
"Petty," Compress laughed from his table.
"I just want to annoy him," Dabi shrugged. He threw the duffel bag over his shoulder and walked toward the heavy steel doors. "Update the board, Giran. Tell me if he changes his route."
"Will do," Giran called out.
The room stayed loud. Thugs traded weapons. The servers kept humming.
Giran turned his laptop screen toward Compress.
"Look at the numbers," Giran smiled, pointing at the active user count on the forum. "We have thousands of people logged in right now. They are checking the streets, dodging the police, and looking everywhere."
"A massive audience," Compress agreed, looking at the screen. "Do you think they will actually find him?"
"With this many eyes?" Giran laughed, putting his cigarette out. "Someone is going to spot Hero X eventually."
"Don't forget even the HPSC and pro heroes didn't managed to find him Giran. And you're hoping this ragtags can do better than them?" Compress reminded.
"Who knows, maybe someone can get lucky."
*-*-*-*
Location: Tokyo – Arisaka Consulting Office
Time: Monday | Two Day Later
Kaito walked into his private office.
He set his paper coffee cup down on his desk and dropped into his heavy leather chair.
His apartment building renovations were completely finished. His short vacation was officially over.
BEEP.
[Welcome back, Boss,] the custom AI voice spoke from the ceiling speakers. [Your vacation setting is now turned off. You currently have over four thousand unread emails from the World Heroes Association and affiliated international agencies. Also, you have an incoming direct call on your personal line.]
Sip.
Kaito took a sip of his coffee.
"Who is calling the personal line?" Kaito asked.
[It is Pro Hero Salaam from Egypt,] the AI replied.
Kaito smiled.
He reached forward and pressed the glowing green button on his desk console.
"Arisaka speaking," Kaito said.
"Manager Arisaka!" Salaam's voice boomed loudly through the speaker.
He sounded completely desperate. "Please tell me you are actually sitting at your desk this time! I have been calling for two weeks!"
"I was on vacation, Salaam," Kaito laughed casually. "I had to finish some personal errands."
"I flew all the way to Japan months ago!" Salaam complained, practically whining over the phone. "I stood in your lobby! I was the very first person on your international waiting list. And then I turn on the news and see you working with Sir Nighteye! He completely cut the line!"
Kaito chuckled. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.
"Nighteye was a local emergency," Kaito explained simply. "I needed to handle some things here in the city first. But you waited long enough. Your turn is up. I am officially accepting your contract."
"Yes!" Salaam cheered loudly through the speaker. His sad tone vanished instantly. "Finally! I will wire the deposit right now. I will clear my entire schedule. When do we start?"
"I will send you my flight details tomorrow," Kaito said. "Make sure your agency in Cairo is ready. I need a private room."
"I will clear out the entire top floor for you!" Salaam promised excitedly. "The weather is very hot here right now, but we will make it completely comfortable for you."
"Just keep the air conditioning running," Kaito joked.
Kaito kept Salaam on speakerphone and looked at his main computer monitor.
"EVE, pull up the inbox," Kaito ordered.
CLACK.
The massive screen on the wall lit up. An endless list of urgent emails scrolled rapidly down the screen.
Sigh.
"The WHA actually did it," Kaito sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "They sent me the files for the top ten heroes of every single member country. That is almost two thousand people."
"The WHA is completely terrified right now," Salaam told him over the phone. "They want you to fix everyone's power scaling before another villain attack again. After all, if not for All Might and that mythical vigilante Hero X. The world right now is doomed."
"I am just one guy," Kaito said flatly. "I am a civilian. If I take a three-month physical contract for two thousand heroes, I will be ninety years old before I finish the first round. I am not working myself to death."
"So what are you going to do?" Salaam asked.
Kaito tapped his fingers against his desk. He thought about it for a few seconds.
"No. I am going to change the rules," Kaito said.
He grabbed his wireless keyboard and pulled it onto his lap.
"EVE, update the main Arisaka Consulting website," Kaito commanded. "Add a new service tier. Call it the Remote Consultation Slot."
[Updating,] the AI confirmed.
"How does that work?" Salaam asked curiously.
"I am opening ten online slots every month," Kaito explained while he typed. "No face-to-face meetings. Pro Heroes apply for a slot. They send my company all their combat footage, their medical data, agency statistics and their quirk limits. I read the files, and write them a customized development document to fix their flaws."
"You just send them a blueprint?" Salaam asked.
"Yes," Kaito nodded. "They get the Golden Manager upgrade, and I never have to leave my office. I will charge a flat fee of four million dollars per document."
"That is brilliant," Salaam laughed. "It is a cheaper tier than a full contract, and you still get to choose who you accept. You are going to make an absolute fortune. But for me, it is better to really have a face to face contract."
"I agree with you. Me personally going to their agency is better. But I just set my own schedule," Kaito smiled.
Tap.
He hit the enter key to publish the update to the world. "I will see you in Cairo next week, Salaam."
"Haha... I will be ready!" Salaam laughed before hanging up.
KACHA.
Kaito set his phone down.
He looked at the massive inbox of desperate global heroes on his screen.
Sip.
He picked his coffee cup back up and took a slow, comfortable drink.
"Mmm... That should do it."
.....
[Author's Note]
Hey everyone, thank you so much for the continuous support on the story.
I have a bit of bad news. I won't be able to update for the next two days.
My grandfather's side of the family is throwing a massive reunion, and I was given the job of being the main host and emcee for the entire event.
The workload is absolutely huge. There are countless relatives and extended family members coming over for a massive two-day celebration, so my hands are going to be completely full managing the crowd and the schedule.
I am really sorry for the sudden break. I just need to get through this massive family event, and I will be right back to writing and posting chapters after two days.
Thank you guys for understanding!
...
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