Just like the original, before Izuku could even get close to Uraraka, examinee 7111 suddenly grabbed his shoulder and started grilling him.
"Who exactly are you? You're not planning to bother the other candidates, are you?"
"Ehhh! W-Who… Me?" Izuku stammered, trembling as he answered, clearly nervous.
It didn't take long for the other students to start whispering, muttering about how weird he looked outside U.A.'s gates and in the halls, some even saying straight-up, "I'm glad he's my competition."
I could let a lot of shit slide, but this? This was past my limit.
Before I got dumped into this world - or hell, even before I turned into a NEET - I was like him: naive, anxious, a good kid. Sure, I got bullied and talked about too, but unlike Izuku, who could push past it and show people a different side of himself, I… how do I put it? I ran from reality, turned into a shut-in hikikomori, holed up in my room, cut off from the outside world. I thought if I tried hard enough, I could've been something great…
Then I realized the real world doesn't work that way. And after getting tossed into this place, it's even clearer. Reality's where people grind their asses off and make choices. It's not just about effort - success here's tied to luck too. If I'd been born into some average family, I wouldn't even have a shot at high school, let alone U.A.
This is a brutal-ass world where the strong rule and the weak get stomped.
So, Ida, let me school your ass real quick.
"Oy, I think you're the one fucking with my buddy here, you smug prick. And the rest of you, if you knock out one rival, you really think that bumps your odds of passing? Keep jerking each other off with that delusional bullshit, motherfuckers…" I spun around, chewing out every candidate nearby with a cocky smirk. "You're all just a bunch of gutless punks picking on someone you think's weak and doesn't belong."
"What? How dare you talk to us like that...?!"
He tried clapping back, but with the exam starting in a minute, I ignored his ass and turned to Izuku, who was gawking at me, shocked.
"Midoriya, stick with me. Rules don't say shit about helping each other, so you and me? We're crushing this. I've got your back this time. Just keep that secret power of yours in check with every hit, alright?" I whispered in his ear, scanning around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.
"Wait, how do you know about…" He stared at me, face pale, looking hella anxious and insecure.
"Details later, man. Get through this first, then you can grill me."
"R-Right. Got it."
"No need to drag it out. Let's roll."
Before he—or anyone—could say more, Present Mic started the countdown, and we got dumped into the battlefield.
And just like that, the exam kicked off.
…
The giant gate swung open. The 10-minute mock battle was on.
"START!"
While the crowd was still stunned by Present Mic's sudden command, I grabbed Izuku by the collar and dragged him inside at breakneck speed.
"There's no countdown on the battlefield, you fuckfaces! Get your ass up!"
Right after we got dropped into the arena, Izuku bolted for the battlefield entrance.
Back in the original timeline, he ran solo, trying to smash as many robots as he could but scored zilch 'cause he kept getting sniped and was too scared he'd fuck up.
Not this time. I'd set up for both of us.
I pulled out my specialized slingshot from my belt, gripping it with a small, wax-coated bullet. Inside was concentrated nitroglycerin – something I'd spent months extracting and compressing using my Quirk.
Whoosh!
The bullet whizzed through the air, embedding itself in the neck joint of a 2-point robot that was about to attack another contestant.
BOOM!
A crisp explosion rang out. The robot froze, its head dangling before crashing to the ground, billowing smoke.
"What the hell...?" The other contestant - a large man with an enhanced Quirk - stared wide-eyed at his prey being taken down right before his eyes.
"Two points for me," I smirked, reloading my weapon. "Midoriya! Finish off the injured ones! Don't just stand there!"
Izuku flinched, then lunged forward, punching a 1-point robot whose leg I'd just damaged.
We swept through. Or rather, I "KS" (kill steal). I didn't target the intact robots. I observed. As soon as another contestant had exhausted their energy weakening the robot, or was preparing to deliver the finishing blow, I would shoot it down from a distance.
The rules said: Defeat the robot to score points. It didn't say who dealt the most damage got points.
"Hey, you bastard!"
A furious roar erupted. A group of three contestants blocked my path.
"Stop cheating! I almost killed that robot before you shot!" A red-haired guy yelled, his fists clenched in stone.
"What rule forbids that?" I calmly retorted, my hand still reloading.
"You..."
"This is a Hero competition, not a kindergarten sports day," I interrupted, my voice cold. "Do criminals wait for you to accumulate energy to deliver a spectacular blow? Do criminals take turns attacking? If I were a Villain, you would have been dead by now. Instead of standing here crying, go find another one, you slowpokes."
I fired a bullet that grazed the redhead's cheek, hitting the 3-point robot that was about to ambush him from behind.
Bang!
The redhead's face turned pale, and he swallowed hard.
"No need to thank you. Now fuck off."
They stormed off, but no one dared utter another word. My ruthlessness and effectiveness had overwhelmed them.
But I knew I was making myself the most hated person in this class. Fine. Heroes don't need to be loved, heroes need to win.
Suddenly, the ground shook violently.
From afar, a gigantic shadow obscured the sunlight. The 0-point Robot. It was much bigger than I imagined. Seeing it in a comic book was one thing, but standing before a massive block of metal as tall as a 20-story building, tearing everything in its path, was a completely different and terrifying experience.
"Fuck…"
That "zero-point" robot was barreling straight at me. Didn't give a damn about the other candidates scrapping with smaller bots, they just kept charging, leaving a trail of wreckage like some end-of-the-world flick. The ground shook like crazy, debris flying everywhere. Some kids got pinned under rubble, stuck, while others bolted in panic.
"Move Midoriya! NOW!" I yelled, freaking the hell out.
"O-Okay! Let's get out of here!" He started to say it and was ready to haul.
"Help!"
Suddenly, a weak cry for help rang out. Uraraka Ochako was trapped under the rubble.
I saw Izuku freeze. Fear was etched on his face, his legs trembling. But then, his expression changed. Without thinking, without calculating, he dashed forward.
Right then, I saw his arm flare up - One For All kicking in full blast, about to break his right arm again like before. Then Uraraka rode a chunk of robot over, used her power to float Izuku down safely, and puked her guts out from overusing her Quirk… All of it, same damn script. Felt so familiar, almost nostalgic.
His arm was shattered, bruised and swollen. Uraraka slapped him, sending him suspended in mid-air for a safe landing.
"So you really inherited it, huh? Nice work man," I muttered under my breath, watching Recovery Girl - an old nurse lady from U.A.'s staff - roll up and use her power to fix Izuku's busted arm.
"Now you've made a solid impression. Your shot's here…"
…
A week later, we finally got the results.
Izuku scored 30 villain points. Only difference from before? He nabbed 50 rescue points this time, totaling 80 - enough for U.A. Hell, he even got surrounded by, like, so many girls - something that never happened in canon, and honestly, still felt surreal right now.
Thanks to me meddling, Bakugo didn't get his usual 77 points, dropped to 70, slipping from first to fourth. Safe to say he wasn't thrilled, as in original timeline, he would've grabbed Izuku's collar. Here? He just glared. He knew better now. I was ready to harden my skin to tungsten with my Quirk, so even if that asshole blasted me with a slap, I would just shrug it off and deck him back - with my hardened arm, of course - sending him flying a few meters. Maybe that prick'll learn something this time.
As for me, I passed with 54 villain points, 10 rescue points, and an 80% on the written test, enough to get into 1-A. Not too high, not too low. But the price I paid was the nickname "The Despicable Score Thief" that spread across freshman forums.
Phase 1 of my plan's done. Help Izuku ace the exam, boost his confidence, and become one of his crew. Best-case scenario, sure, but what actually went down was way better than I'd mapped out.
Izuku saved Uraraka and broke his arm, earning mad respect and props from the other students. First day of class, everyone was hyping him as a hero who'd risk it all to save someone. Me, though? Got greeted with dirty looks for sniping points like a cheap bastard. Still, shit's moving like I wanted - no hiccups so far.
The atmosphere in class 1-A was quite tense. 24 desks with 3 were empty. I sat at the back, ignoring the unfriendly glances from a few classmates whose scores I had "accidentally" stolen on the exam. Probably.
But there's still some small fries to fry, like Bakugo's beef with me.
He sat at the desk in front of me, his feet propped up, giving me a murderous glare before turning away. He knew I was here. He remembered the incident in the alley. And his silence was more terrifying than an explosion.
Sure enough, while Izuku was still blushing like a tomato talking to Uraraka, I felt someone creep up behind me - fast as hell, didn't even clock it 'til they were there.
"If you wanna play buddies, do it somewhere else. This is U.A, not some playground!"
A scruffy-looking dude with a messy beard and tangled hair stepped out of a sleeping bag right behind us. No way this guy's a normal human.
After climbing out, he eyed us with a tired look and went on:
"Hmm, took you eight seconds to shut up. Life's short, kids. You don't appreciate that."
Oh yeah, fuck me, I totally forgot this guy's a main factor too.
"I'm your homeroom teacher, Aizawa Shouta. Nice to meet you all," he said. "Put on your PE uniforms and head to the field."
"What? A test?! Right after we just started?" someone asked, surprised, with murmurs of agreement rippling through the others.
"Yes or no answers only." he replied flatly. "I need to see what you lot are really capable of."
Everyone scrambled to the locker rooms to change into gym gear.
In the original timeline, this test ranked students based on how many challenges they could clear, with the lowest scorer getting expelled. It's a bluff, sure, but if I called the old man out here, that lie'd turn real, kicking off a domino effect that'd fuck everything up worse than ever. So, best keep my mouth shut.
First up was the 50-meter dash. Pretty much everyone used their Quirks. Bakugo clocked 4.13 seconds, blasting his way there with explosions, while Uraraka lightened herself with Zero Gravity to run faster though it didn't help much. Others, like Ida Tenya with his calf engines and Aoyama Yuga with his navel laser, zipped to the finish in under 4 seconds.
"Onodera Ryuga, prepare."
I stepped to the starting line. My opponent was Ojiro.
I took a deep breath.
I activated my Quirk. I didn't transform my whole body – it was too strenuous and slow. Instead, I focused on my leg bones. Molecular alteration: Carbon Fiber.
A sharp pain shot through my shins like thousands of needles piercing my marrow. My bones became lighter but ten times stronger than steel.
"Run!"
I pushed off the ground with all my might. The recoil was so strong I felt like my muscles were about to tear.
My time wasn't great - 6 seconds flat - but it still beat Izuku's 7.
I was breathless, sweating profusely. The transformation of my internal structure consumed an incredible amount of energy. Even though I was faster than average, compared to Iida or Bakugo, I was still second best.
After the first three tests, we moved to the next: ball throw.
Izuku had just completed his legendary 705.3m throw with a broken finger. The whole class was in shock. Aizawa was smirking.
It was my turn next to him.
I held the ball in my hand. Plan: Transform it into Aerogel – the lightest material in the world – and chucked it with everything I had.
Result? 50 meters. Low as fuck. It was too light to carry momentum against air resistance.
…
Finally, the test results dropped.
"By the way, no one's getting expelled, like I said at the start."
Everyone's faces were shocked, partly feeling tricked, mostly relieved no one was getting booted.
"It was a lie. A rational ruse to push your Quirks' limits," he said, giving us a weird look before adding, "How are you kids this dense? Oh, and Izuku, go see Recovery Girl now, or you won't make it to class tomorrow."
Then everyone got their scores, me included. 17th - not stellar, but good enough to blend in. Izuku hit 21st - dead last - but his future's bigger than that. Bakugo? Third place. He didn't look happy, probably pissed he's not top dog like before.
Anyway, this is just the start - long road ahead. Gotta cook up my own plans here.
Soon, U.A.'s gate's gonna get busted open, letting reporters swarm inside. Then there's the League of Villains' U.S.J. mess and a pile of shit after that. I need to stay on top of it all, then I can flip this series' shitty ending - now this world's reality.
Right then, I tracked down All Might, who was chatting with Eraser Head—scruffy Aizawa—about Class 1-A, especially Izuku. Didn't wanna butt in, so I waited 'til the homeroom teacher split before rolling up to All Might.
"Yo, All Might-sensei."
"Oh! Young Onodera! What can I do for you?" he said, turning to me with that big-ass trademark blinding grin of his. "You want an autograph?"
I didn't smile back. I stepped closer, dropping my voice to a whisper so only he could hear. "Nah. And I think we need to talk. Private. About One For All."
The smile vanished from his face instantly. His blue eyes sharpened, locking onto mine with a sudden intensity.
"...Follow me."