The classroom smelled faintly of chalk and floor polish—a combination that had always lulled Minoru into drowsiness. Not today. Today, his mind buzzed with a different kind of focus. While the other five-year-olds scribbled crooked letters in their notebooks, he sat completely still, eyes closed, attention turned inward.I wasn't the type to enjoy exercise in my last life. Sitting at a desk for eight hours a day was my thing. Now? Now I had to get used to pushing my limits every day if I wanted to survive in this world. If I wanted to stand in U.A., if I wanted to become a hero.
My quirk alone—Pop Off—wasn't going to get me there. Not unless I made it into something more. And now that I had this second ability—Body Control—things had changed.
Pain... it's just a signal. A warning.
The thought echoed in his mind as he slowly extended his awareness. His quirk—Body Control—gave him access to a system no normal human could touch. Muscles, nerves, sensory pathways—he could tweak them all like sliders on a control board. And today's experiment? Pain limiters.
He clenched his fists under the desk. A tiny spark of discomfort shot up his forearm as he tensed too hard. Normally, he'd flinch. Not this time.
Reduce pain receptors by 30%... no, 50%.
The sensation dulled instantly, like muting background noise.
Then he cranked it to zero.
The effect was surreal. He stabbed a pencil tip into his palm—nothing. Not a twitch. Not a wince. For the first time, pain was gone. He could push his body past every natural barrier without screaming for mercy.
A grin tugged at his lips. So this is what those shounen protagonists feel like when they say, "I'll go beyond my limits."
But as the teacher droned on about vowel sounds, reality sank in.
Pain isn't the enemy. It's the warning sign. Without it… I could snap something without even knowing.
The realization was sobering, but it didn't kill his excitement—it sharpened it. He'd need control, not recklessness.
---
The bell rang, snapping me out of my trance. The teacher called for lunch break, and everyone bolted out like hungry wolves. I packed my things calmly and walked to the library. It wasn't like I had friends here—not yet.
---
Stacks of books loomed like silent guardians. He wandered through until a math textbook caught his eye. Normally, numbers bored him, but something had changed. He sat by the window, flipping pages on angles and force calculations.
It clicked almost instantly.
So if I know the angle of projection and the applied force… I can predict the arc of my movement. No wasted energy. No random guessing.
His ability gave him more than physical control—it gave him processing power. The same enhancement that let him manipulate internal functions now worked on data. Equations that once made him groan now danced across his vision like neon signs.
He closed the book, ideas exploding in his head.
With this, I can calculate jump distances, rebounding angles… maybe even ricochet attacks.
Heroes didn't just hit harder—they hit smarter.
After school, he bolted home, changed into his training clothes, and stuffed his bag with essentials—cakes, water, and his father's prized protein bars. In this world, those bars weren't like the weak snacks from his old life. A single one packed the nutrients of a full meal, loaded with tech-based additives for fast recovery. Perfect for what he had planned.
---
The hilltop. His secret training ground. The forest spread out below, branches swaying like challengers inviting him to leap. He dumped his bag and rolled his shoulders, excitement bubbling in his chest.
"Let's see what I can really do."
---
First, the armor. He focused, channeling his quirk through every fiber of his being. Muscles tensed, skin hardened, pressure points aligned—until his body shimmered with a thin, translucent shell.
Full-Body Quirk Armor.
It wasn't metal, but a biological exosuit—layered muscle density reinforced by micro-tension adjustments. Strong enough to absorb impacts, flexible enough to move.
He grinned. Not bad for a warm-up.
---Next… senses. Humans limit themselves because the brain can't handle too much input. But I wasn't exactly normal anymore.
I closed my eyes, reached inward, and flipped the mental switch holding my senses back.
Sound hit me first—a thousand tiny noises I'd never noticed before. Leaves brushing, ants crawling, distant chatter from the village. My skin tingled with air currents, temperature shifts, the texture of bark from meters away. My nose caught scents like layers of perfume—earth, sap, sugar from the snacks in my bag.
And then came the pain. A crushing headache, like my skull was splitting open. My knees buckled.
"Too… much…" I gasped, clutching my head. The world tilted, sound blending into static.
I forced it off—slammed the switch down. The noise died, the clarity faded, and I collapsed onto the grass, panting.
"Idiot…" he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "Even with an enhanced brain, that was suicide."
I tore open a protein bar and ate, focusing on digestion. Body Control let me see the process—nutrients breaking down, glucose hitting the bloodstream. I sped it up, turning food to energy faster than any normal person could. Warmth filled my limbs.
I steadied my breathing and wiped the last bead of sweat from my forehead.
This time, I only unlocked 20%. The world sharpened, but it didn't crush me. I could see the veins on leaves, hear the flutter of a bird's wings. Perfect balance.
I stood, flexed, and grinned.
Now came the fun part.
He crouched low, eyes scanning the trees like a predator.
If I hit that branch at 30 degrees, push off with 40% leg strength, then twist mid-air to angle for the next trunk…
He launched.
BOOM! His foot slammed into the bark, propelling him sideways like a human pinball. Branch to branch, trunk to trunk, he bounced through the forest, adjusting force and angle mid-flight. Every move precise, efficient, almost mathematical.
Leaves exploded around him as he zipped through, landing in a perfect crouch on the last tree.
Adrenaline roared in his veins. This… THIS is how Cannonbolt must feel.
He pushed harder. Faster. Muscles screamed—but pain was dialed down. He kept going, leaping, twisting, flipping, until sweat drenched his armor and lungs burned like fire.
Finally, he dropped onto the hilltop grass, chest heaving. He grabbed a protein bar and tore into it, closing his eyes as his quirk shifted focus inward.
Digestive acceleration.
He visualized the process, manipulating enzymes, cranking metabolism to full throttle. Food broke down, glucose surged, ATP flooded his cells. Within minutes, fatigue faded. Energy blazed back into his limbs like fresh fuel.
He grinned. So this is how you break limits—eat, adapt, repeat.
Some cycles later, his body felt stronger than this morning. Not by much, but enough to notice. Enough to prove the theory.
---
As the sun dipped low, painting the sky in gold and crimson, Minoru lay back on the grass, staring at the first stars. His mind spun—not with exhaustion, but with plans.
He had discovered three truths today:
1. Pain is a limiter. Remove it, and you push beyond human endurance.
2. Enhanced senses + brain speed = battlefield domination.
3. Math isn't boring when it makes you unstoppable.
He clenched his fist, feeling the quirk hum through his veins.
Heroes aren't born—they're built. And I'm going to build myself into the best.