"Who… are you…?"
The weak, feeble voice was barely audible, yet it still managed to awaken Yaoyorozu Chihiro.
He looked at the green-haired girl lying there, her brows tightly furrowed, her eyes still clouded with confusion. Chihiro casually picked up a strand of her turquoise hair, winding it around his fingertips, and smiled faintly.
"Your man."
Aoba Kokoro clearly hadn't processed his words yet. She stared blankly for a moment, then instinctively looked around. When her gaze finally landed on Chihiro—and his half-naked body—her pupils shrank violently.
"Ah!!"
The uniquely piercing scream of a young girl echoed through the cellar. However, the mansion's underground chamber was built with special soundproofing materials. The scream was quickly swallowed up, doing little more than making Chihiro's ears ring slightly.
Chihiro calmly twisted his fingers and pressed his palm firmly against Aoba Kokoro's chest. The force was so overwhelming that her face instantly flushed red. Her eyes, filled with humiliation and fury, glared at him as if they could kill. If looks were weapons, Chihiro had no doubt he would have died countless times already.
Aoba Kokoro knew who he was. She had seen him before—Yaoyorozu Momo's younger brother, the prodigy everyone in their class acknowledged. And precisely because of that, her shame and anger burned even more intensely. Yet she was gentle by nature. Apart from glaring at him, she could only sob helplessly. Tears fell to the ground, forming one expanding circle after another.
Chihiro raised a finger and wiped away her tears. Then, without a trace of concern, he put on his clothes and spoke calmly.
"The door is on the right. Go out by yourself. Pretend that nothing happened."
Aoba Kokoro froze.
Her tear-streaked face—beautiful like pear blossoms drenched in rain—was filled with disbelief. Let her go? How could that be possible?
"Don't say anything you shouldn't," Chihiro added, his expression turning cold, his voice losing all warmth."Otherwise…"
Five fingers came together like a blade.
Slash.
A deep, half-foot-long crack instantly appeared in the cellar wall.
Aoba Kokoro stared at it in shock, her mouth hanging open, terror completely undisguised. After several seconds, she gritted her teeth, hastily pulled on her clothes, and staggered toward the door.
Watching her retreating figure, Chihiro let out a quiet sigh and withdrew his right hand. The redness in his palm faded rapidly, turning pale before his eyes, even carrying a faint cooling sensation. What shocked him more was that his hand felt subtly stronger—barely noticeable, but undeniably real.
"As expected… my analysis wasn't wasted."
A trace of satisfaction surfaced in Chihiro's heart.
His S-Level Quirk, Smart Chip, had been incubating within him for a long time. Even so, the moment it awakened, Chihiro instinctively understood its basic functions.
[S-Level Quirk: Smart Chip — Analysis / Synthesis]Analyze the structure and data of a Quirk's origin, then continuously synthesize the desired Quirk based on the analyzed information.
This was Chihiro's preliminary understanding. And he also knew its limitations very well.
First, analysis required a long period of time. During this process, the target had to be unconscious or asleep, with no resistance. This was precisely why Aoba Kokoro—who had collapsed unconscious—became the perfect medium.
Second, the Quirk being analyzed could not be overly advanced. In other words, Chihiro's body could not withstand excessive modification. If pushed too far, it would collapse entirely.
Most importantly, the number of syntheses was limited.
If the synthesized Quirks did not conflict, Chihiro would have at most three opportunities. If a conflict occurred, even a Quirk as powerful as Super Cure would fail to save him.
For example, if he synthesized Ice this time and Fire next time, the violent clash between the two would tear his body apart.
That was why Chihiro was extremely cautious in selecting Quirks. He had even abandoned the idea of analyzing Yaoyorozu Momo's Creation. A top-tier S-Level Quirk like that had already reached a theoretical extreme. His body would never be able to endure it—and it wouldn't even provide much benefit.
Shaking his head, Chihiro pushed those thoughts aside. Quirks could wait.
He turned toward the now-closed door, pressed his foot against the ground, and his body melted into the shadows, flowing silently out.
Before long, he spotted a staggering figure walking unsteadily along the street. The cellar's hidden exit led directly outside, making escape effortless.
Seeing Aoba Kokoro struggling forward in her torn clothing, Chihiro felt a rare flicker of annoyance.
Tch… I should've at least given her something decent to wear.
But in the end, he simply shook his head.
Whether she would live to see tomorrow depended entirely on her choices tonight.
Like a phantom, Chihiro moved along the walls on both sides of the street, stepping lightly as a shadow. His movements were utterly silent—so silent that even someone standing directly below would never notice a person above them.
From time to time, he glanced down at the frightened girl. A faint smile curved at the corner of his mouth.
Then—before her head had even fully turned—
Chihiro's body suddenly slid downward.
Only his right hand remained, gripping the wall.
This was the terrifying reaction speed he could achieve—infinitely close to the theoretical limit of human reflexes.
For ordinary people, all they could do was stare in disbelief.