Rain pattered against the asphalt, washing away crimson spots into the gutter. Police lights cut through the mist, painting the alley in alternating red and blue.
Three thugs lay scattered across the wet ground like broken dolls, each with identical injuries: shattered kneecaps and damage to areas no man wanted damaged.
Detective Kaori Hoga crouched beside the closest victim, her crimson eyes narrowed as she studied his swollen knee. Her dark ponytail hung over one shoulder as she scribbled notes in her small black notebook. The rain beaded on her police jacket but she paid it no attention.
"Fourth one tonight," she muttered, rising to her full height. "Same MO as the others."
Rain dripped from the edge of her ponytail as she moved toward a trembling woman huddled under a paramedic's blanket. The victim clutched a designer purse to her chest like a shield.
"Ma'am, I know this is difficult, but can you describe what happened?" Kaori's voice softened, her notepad poised.
The woman blinked rapidly, mascara tracks running down her cheeks. "I was walking to my car when these three surrounded me. The big one grabbed my purse..." Her voice shook. "Then this figure just... appeared. So fast. He hit the first guy's knee with something—a crack so loud I felt it in my teeth. The others tried to run but he caught them both."
"Can you describe him?"
"Small. Not very tall. Wore this bright blue hoodie with All Might's face on it." The woman's eyes widened. "After he took them down, he just looked at me and disappeared."
"Did he say anything?"
The woman hesitated. "Just one thing. He whispered, 'Tell them the Super Stylish Thug Slayer was here.'" Her lips quirked upward. "It was actually kind of badass."
Kaori's pen stopped mid-word.
"The... Super Stylish Thug Slayer?"
"Those were his exact words."
Kaori thanked the witness and walked away, pulling out her phone. Rain drummed against her shoulders as she dialed a familiar number.
"Tsukauchi speaking." The voice on the other end sounded tired.
"We've got another four, sir. Same pattern. Kneecaps and... sensitive areas." She leaned against the brick wall, watching paramedics load the moaning criminals into ambulances. "That makes twelve in the past two days."
A sigh crackled through the line. "Any Quirk usage?"
"None reported. Just a baseball bat and what witnesses describe as 'scary fast reflexes.'" Kaori flipped through her notes. "All witnesses report the same outfit: black beanie, surgical mask, and an All Might hoodie."
"An All Might fan breaking kneecaps." Tsukauchi's voice carried years of weathered patience. "That's a contradiction I didn't need tonight. Any leads on identity?"
"He's calling himself the 'Super Stylish Thug Slayer' now."
Silence filled the line for a long moment.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Tsukauchi finally asked.
"Super. Stylish. Thug. Slayer." Kaori spelled it out slowly. "Sir, I know it sounds ridiculous, but this guy took down twelve armed criminals in a single night without a scratch. Witness accounts suggest he's getting faster with each encounter."
"Bring me everything you have in the morning. Photos, witness statements, the works." His voice hardened. "Vigilantes playing hero always escalate. Today it's kneecaps. Tomorrow it could be necks."
Before Kaori could respond, her second phone buzzed in her pocket. A cheerful pop song blared through the rain—her personal ringtone. She checked the screen: "MOM" flashed in bold letters.
"Sir, I need to—"
"Go ahead," Tsukauchi said. "Get some sleep after. Tomorrow's going to be busy."
The line went dead. Kaori stared at her personal phone, still singing its upbeat tune, and sighed deeply before answering.
"Hi, Mom. No, I haven't met any nice boys at work. Yes, I'm eating. No, I don't want to meet your friend's son..."
===
Isaiah lay sprawled across his bed, staring at the ceiling with a wild grin. His muscles burned pleasantly, his lungs no longer aching from the completed run. His damp All Might hoodie hung from the doorknob, dripping quietly onto a towel.
"Eight thugs, two muggers, and a pair of drunks picking on a homeless guy." He stretched his arms above his head, feeling the soreness like an old friend. "Not bad for two nights of work."
『You got lucky. Twelve fights against untrained criminals with no Quirks. The moment you run into anyone with actual power, you're toast.』
Isaiah scoffed. "Please. I finished the daily quest AND farmed enough AP to max out my F-rank. I'd call that a strategic success."
He pulled up his status screen, the blue glow illuminating his face in the darkness.
Name: Izuku Midoriya
Level: 1 | Title: Quirkless Loser | Class: None | Attribute Points: 850
ATTRIBUTES:
Strength: F(8/25) | Agility: F(10/25) | Vitality: F(9/25) | Intelligence: F(12/25) | Sense: F(6/25) | Aura: F(24/25)
"Eight hundred and fifty points," Isaiah whispered, his fingers hovering over the translucent interface. "Time for an upgrade."
『Try not to waste them all at once, genius.』
"Watch and learn."
He began allocating points methodically. First, Strength to maximum—feeling his muscles tighten and grow denser with each point added. Next came Agility—fifteen more points to reach the cap, making the world around him seem fractionally slower. Vitality followed, his lungs expanding, his heart strengthening, his bones reinforcing themselves.
The sensations intensified with each upgrade. Intelligence brought crystal clarity to his thoughts, connections forming faster than before. When he maxed out Sense, the entire room became sharper.
"Confirm upgrades," he commanded, voice barely above a whisper.
[Confirm Attribute Upgrades? Cost: 380 AP]
"Confirm."
Power surged through him, not gently like water but violently like electricity. His back arched off the bed, teeth clenched to prevent a scream. His bones felt like they were being reforged, muscles tearing and rebuilding themselves in seconds.
The pain subsided, leaving him gasping. He sat up slowly, looking at his hands. They appeared the same, but everything felt different. He clenched his fist and the power behind it made him smile.
"So this is what it feels like." He stood, testing his balance. "To actually have a body worth inhabiting."
『Congratulations. You've gone from pathetic to barely adequate. A true inspiration.』
Isaiah ignored the sarcasm, too focused on the new sensations flooding him. He bounced on his toes, relishing how light he felt. He dropped into a perfect push-up, then another.
"Who's barely adequate now?" he asked, completing twenty push-ups without breaking a sweat.
Before Arcan could respond, a new notification flashed across his vision—not blue, but blood red.
[ALL F-RANK STATS MAXIMIZED]
[REQUIREMENTS FOR RANK-UP MET]
[RANK-UP QUEST ISSUED: THE FIRST DAY IS THE DEEPEST CUT]
His triumph vanished, replaced by wary focus as he read the quest details.
A familiar scent, isn't it? Disinfectant, desperation, and mediocrity. You've returned to the spawning ground of your past self. This is not a school; it's a cage full of monkeys who think they're lions. It's time to remind them of the food chain. Don't just survive this day. Dominate it.
[Objectives]
Establish a New Baseline: Shatter the perception of the "quirkless, useless Deku." Not one person should look at you the same way by the time the final bell rings.
Leash the Pomeranian: Confront Katsuki Bakugo. Do not avoid him. Make him understand, in no uncertain terms, that his position at the top is no longer guaranteed.
Show Contempt for the System: Openly display your newfound knowledge and confidence. Make at least one teacher utterly speechless.
[Rewards for Success]
5x [Gacha Token (Common)]
Significant EXP Gain
Rank-Up
[Penalty for Failure]
Title Inflicted: [Bakugo's Victim]
Ego Collapse: Temporary loss of all mental-resistance skills.
System-enforced hospitalization.
"Katsuki Bakugo," he muttered. Izuku's memories flooded his mind—years of torment at the hands of a boy with explosive palms and an ego to match.
A boy who told him to jump off a roof and hope for a Quirk in his next life.
『The pomeranian with the big bark. Think you can handle him now that you've beaten up some drunk thugs?』
"Different kind of fight." Isaiah paced the room, new muscles working smoothly together. "Those criminals wanted money. Bakugo wants submission. Breaking his body would be easy. Breaking his perception of me as inferior? That requires finesse."
『So what's your plan, big shot?』
Isaiah walked to the window, looking out at the rain-soaked city. Somewhere out there, police were collecting evidence, connecting dots. Somewhere out there, a blond-haired bomb with a god complex slept peacefully, unaware that his favorite punching bag had been replaced by someone who saw his power as nothing more than a resource to be harvested.
"I'm going to give him exactly what he wants," Isaiah said. "A target for his rage. A canvas for his ego." His lips curled into a cold smile.
"And then I'm going to shatter his entire worldview."
===
Detective Tsukauchi rubbed his tired eyes, staring at the maps and photos spread across his desk. Twelve attacks marked with red pins created a strange, circular pattern across Musutafu's downtown area. An empty cup of coffee sat forgotten at his elbow.
Someone knocked on his office door. "You wanted these, sir?"
Kaori Hoga entered, carrying a stack of files. Despite the early hour, her uniform was perfectly pressed, her ponytail neat. Only the slight shadows under her eyes betrayed her late night.
"The witness statements and evidence reports," she said, placing them on his desk. "And breakfast." She added a paper bag that smelled of warm pastry.
Tsukauchi nodded his thanks, reaching for the top file. "Any patterns emerge overnight?"
"Several, actually." Kaori moved to the map, tracing the attacks with her finger. "The incidents form a perfect ten-kilometer circle. The timing between attacks suggests our vigilante maintained a consistent pace throughout the night."
Tsukauchi frowned. "A ten-kilometer circle at consistent speed? That's..."
"A training run," Kaori finished. "He wasn't just hunting criminals. He was exercising."
He leaned back, stunned by the implication. "Who goes jogging and decides to take down twelve criminals as a side activity?"
"Someone testing themselves." Kaori pointed to the time stamps. "The attacks got progressively more efficient. The second one took nearly three minutes according to witnesses. The last one was over in twenty seconds."
Tsukauchi flipped through photos of the victims, all with identical injuries.
"There's one more thing." Kaori pulled out her notebook. "We searched police records for previous vigilante activities matching this pattern. Nothing in Japan, but..." She slid a printed article across the desk. "Three years ago in New York. Twenty-five gang members found with broken kneecaps and worse. All connected to an assault on a teenage girl. The perpetrator was never caught."
Tsukauchi studied the article, his expression growing darker. "You think our 'Super Stylish Thug Slayer' is an international vigilante?"
"I think we're dealing with someone more dangerous than we initially assumed," Kaori said. "American techniques, Japanese target area. And the All Might hoodie raises questions."
"Misdirection," Tsukauchi murmured. "Wear a symbol of peace while committing violence." He stood, straightening his coat. "We need to get ahead of this. If this vigilante follows the pattern from New York, they're just getting started."
===
Isaiah stood before the bathroom mirror, adjusting his school uniform. The blazer that once hung awkwardly now fit his frame perfectly. His enhanced physicality hadn't changed his appearance dramatically—he was still recognizably Izuku Midoriya—but there was a new quality to his posture, a dangerous confidence in his eyes.
He ran a hand through his unruly green hair, considering the day ahead. Aldera High School. The hellscape where Izuku had suffered daily torment for years. Where teachers looked the other way while Katsuki Bakugo ruled through fear and firepower.
His reflection smiled back at him, cold and calculating.
"Ready or not, Kacchan," he whispered. "Here comes the new and improved Deku."