Chapter 2: Empty Wallet
The following afternoon, after the final bell rang at Orudera Junior High, Usopp hastily gathered his worn-out backpack and rushed back to his neighborhood. He convened a highly important meeting with his three tiny admirers in an abandoned scrap yard tucked behind the apartment buildings. This rusty, forgotten plot of land, filled with broken refrigerators, old tires, and shattered washing machines, served as their "Secret Operations Base."
Usopp sat atop a rusted, dented washing machine, legs crossed, while the three first-graders stood in a neat, straight line before him, saluting like soldiers awaiting their general's command.
"Men," Usopp began, lowering his voice into an exaggerated, dramatic baritone to mimic the Pro Heroes he saw on television. "The coming weeks are going to be a grueling test of endurance. The U.A. entrance exam is rapidly approaching. I must hone my physique to the absolute peak of human performance. You three, acting as the official 'Usopp Defense Squad,' are hereby tasked with facilitating the training of this future top-ranking hero!"
The kid in the middle raised his hand timidly. "But Captain Usopp, we watched a documentary about U.A. on the news! They said the entrance exam involves a lot of really violent combat and smashing things. How are you going to fight with your eyes? Are you going to look at the bad guys so intensely that they get uncomfortable and surrender?"
Usopp coughed loudly into his fist, shifting his weight on the washing machine to hide his sudden spike of anxiety. "Ahem! That is an excellent inquiry from a concerned citizen. However, my strategy goes far beyond simple, barbaric punches. I will utilize my extraordinary Zoom Quirk to discover the microscopic weaknesses of my enemies! If a villain has a slight cavity in their left molar, I will see it! If their shoelaces are frayed by two millimeters, I will know! I will exploit these structural flaws and defeat them with psychological warfare and precise geometry!"
The kids exchanged looks of pure, unadulterated awe. "Woah! That sounds kind of mean, but also totally genius!"
The physical training commenced immediately, and it was an absolute, unmitigated disaster. Usopp instructed the children to stand twenty paces away and throw empty soda cans at him while he ran back and forth across the scrap yard, practicing his evasion techniques.
He sprinted from a pile of tires to an old couch, panting heavily. "Alright, throw them! Give me your worst!"
One of the kids lobbed a crushed aluminum can high into the air.
Whirrrrr-bzzt! Usopp activated his Quirk. His pupils shifted forward. Instantly, his vision magnified. He zoomed in on the incoming projectile. To his incredibly enhanced eyes, the can appeared to be moving in extreme slow motion. He could see the leftover drops of sticky soda clinging to the rim. He could read the tiny nutritional information printed on the side. He could see the exact trajectory it was taking.
His eyes processed the danger perfectly. The problem was his body. His scrawny, unathletic legs simply could not move fast enough to react to what his eyes were seeing.
"Ah! I see it! It is coming right for my..."
SMACK.
The aluminum can bounced squarely off his forehead with a hollow thud. Usopp let out a comical yelp, his arms flailing wildly as he tripped over his own oversized sneakers, tumbling backward into a pile of dusty cardboard boxes. A small cloud of dust plumed into the air.
"Captain Usopp! Are you okay?!" The kids panicked, dropping their remaining cans and rushing over to the pile of boxes.
Usopp groaned, slowly sitting up and aggressively brushing the dust off his patched uniform. He rubbed his stinging forehead, forcing a remarkably strained smile. "O-Of course I am! I purposefully allowed that projectile to strike me. It was a calculated maneuver to test the bone density of my cranium! As expected, my skull is as hard as titanium steel! The training is proceeding exactly according to my master plan!"
Just as he brushed the last piece of cardboard from his shoulder, his pocket vibrated. He pulled out his cellular phone. It was an ancient, blocky device that belonged in a museum. The screen was cracked in three different directions, and thick rubber bands were wrapped tightly around the middle to prevent the battery from falling out of the back. It was so old it still had a physical number pad.
He pressed the chipped center button to open the new text message. It was an automated alert from his mobile carrier: "Your current prepaid balance is 0.05 Yen. Please recharge your account soon to avoid service termination."
Usopp stared at the screen, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He shoved the broken phone back into his pocket. Life at the bottom of the economic ladder was incredibly harsh. He didn't have the funds to buy modern training weights, protein powder, or enroll in a proper martial arts gym. All he had was this junk-filled yard, his excessively large shoes, and a Quirk that only allowed him to see his own failures in terrifyingly high definition.
He looked at the setting sun, painting the smoggy Mustafu sky in shades of orange and purple. "Alright, men," Usopp said, adjusting his posture. "Physical conditioning is concluded for the day. Tomorrow, we move on to advanced tactics. I will teach you the highly complex art of running in the exact opposite direction of danger at supersonic speeds. It is a secret technique I developed, known as the 'Tactical Survival Retreat'!"