Crime, Punishment and the In-Between

"Tsukauchi, you're just in time. Take a seat over there and we'll start in a minute."

The dark-haired detective nodded in thanks to the Chief. He went over and sat down on an empty chair, behind a large conference table. He opened that black briefcase he had been carrying and placed a paper file on the table. After making sure nothing was missing, he looked up and took in the scene in front of him.

The large table was surrounded by various Heroes, who were all sitting in their chairs and either idly chatting or doing idle things to pass the time. Eight officers were there in addition to himself, standing at attention against the wall. He wouldn't be surprised if some of them were having an internal geek-out; having a chance to work hand-in-hand with Heroes was always a source of pride for the force. It also made great stories to tell the kids, if what he heard from his fellow detectives was true.

Even he was guilty of it to an extent, but it was usually his sister.

Tsukauchi was snapped from his musings when the sound of a closing door was heard, making him and everyone in the room look at the Chief, who walked to the podium in the forefront of the room. Straightening his tie, he addressed the gathered.

"Good morning officers, Heroes. I thank you all for taking the time to come here. I do not wish this to drag on any more than you so I will get to the point. As many, if not all of you are aware, there is a new player in Tokyo. One that has been making waves right under our noses in the past three months."

The screen behind the Chief lit up with an unfortunately familiar image, one of a treacherous Hero being held down by a masked assailant. A tense silence gathered over the viewers.

"The force has taken to calling this man 'Shinigami'. The media and the public have come up with different names for him ever since that recording came out on the internet and we have no indication of what his chosen alias may be, but for simplicity's sake, that is how shall address him. Over the past three months, this individual has been responsible for the deaths of people all over the city. I don't think I need to tell you how imperative it is to bring this man to justice."

No verbal response came, but the serious looks some of the Heroes wore were enough.

"In order to accomplish this endeavor, I have called for you Heroes, selected for reasons I will reveal through the course of this meeting, so we can bring down this Vigilante before he takes any more lives. To further explain, I invite Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi to the stand."

The detective stood up and walked over to the podium, file in hand. He gave a nod to the Chief and met the stares of the audience.

"Thank you, Chief. To those of you who know me, good to see and to those who don't, welcome." He started to flip through the file as he kept his eyes on the small crowd. "I'll get this out of the way to clear any misconceptions: we're not dealing with a simple murderer. If anything, he should be treated on the same threat level as the Hero Killer."

He let that statement settle in as he saw a couple of Heroes and officers narrow their eyes. "The Hero Killer?" asked a blue-haired man with square features. "I don't doubt your word Detective, but that's still a very serious claim to make."

"I understand, Ingenium." He replied. "But I would never make a statement like that if I wasn't absolutely sure." Tsukauchi pulled out a page from the file and placed it on the podium.

"The first question that needs to be asked is what do we know about him. Unfortunately, what we have is very little to go on," he said, grimacing. "We're not exactly when he started operating, but based on the evidence we gathered…we can put the estimate to at least five or six months ago."

Eyebrows everywhere shot up in shock and Tsukauchi internally winced.

"Hold up," commented Eraserhead, raising his hand. "You mean to tell me that this Shinigami has been operating for months now and no one said anything?" His stare was narrowed and focus on Tsukauchi, a level of accusation in both his eyes and tone.

"…we had no idea," replied the detective with a sigh. "This brings me to my next point: most of his kills, except for…that" he gestured to the screen. "Have been very subtle. They all took place in locations that would draw very little attention, like alleyways or old buildings. Not only that, but according to forensics, the killings were performed during the late hours. No loud noises, no concerned calls, nothing. The only time someone realized there was a dead body nearby was because of the stench or the blood, and those reports usually came in the mornings."

The tired-looking Hero looked at him for a moment and then nodded. "I see. Then am I safe to assume that there are bodies out there that you didn't find?"

Tsukauchi looked down solemnly. "…your assumption might very well be correct. That's why we can't place a proper body count."

The faint sounds of clenching fists tickled his ear. He didn't blame them.

"How did you find out he was responsible for all those deaths?" asked Manual, the Simple Hero.

Tsukauchi felt his lips twitch. "It took a while, and I am ashamed to say that I only started thinking of the idea after I saw the results of a drug deal gone wrong." He pressed a clicker and the screen changed. "This is that crime scene. Under those tarps are the bodies of yakuza drug dealers. Alongside one of them we discovered about 35 million Yen's worth of cocaine, both the drug and a cash bag containing half of that amount. Due to the presence of those two factors and the lack of collateral damage to the crime scene, I ruled out a Villain attack or a turf war."

"Which left one answer remaining: Vigilante," said Aizawa. Tsuakuchi gave an affirmative nod.

"That was a very prominent hypothesis. It was when I saw the similarities of the deaths to those of certain bodies found in previous months that it became solid enough to become a conclusion. This brings me to the next point: Again, except for Domino, all of the victims died from knife wounds. The autopsy reports from the dead yakuza and several others we strongly suspect to have been killed by him show no signs of any other causes of death. The only anomalies that could be found were that many of the wounds were found on lethal spots - like the spine, skull and even the heart – and in some cases, muscle and tissue around those areas were missing."

"Missing?"

"Yes. We did find the missing pieces nearby…usually on the floor."

Aizawa rubbed his chin and hummed. "This indicates that not only Shinigami knew where to hit his targets to ensure lethality, but he could do so with enough force to send chunks of flesh flying, am I correct?"

The detective nodded and a couple of whispers broke out.

"Those wounds…they were another reason, weren't they?" asked a tall, well-built man in a suit in a deep voice. His white-and-red eyes stared at the detective and were he anybody else, Tsukauchi might've shivered. Gang Orca was considered a terrifying Hero for a good reason. "You had no reason to believe before these yakuza deaths that they were the result of a loose killer."

"Yes, that was the case. Along with fact number three." A click later and the screen showed a map of Tokyo, marked with red dots in certain spots. "Much like the Hero Killer, he doesn't stick to one area. The dots are all the places where we found dead bodies and have strong evidence that Shinigami was responsible. Like Eraserhead said, there could be more hiding in places we haven't found or nobody reported, and there are other bodies that we found but are still skeptical about whether or not was his doing."

"In that way, he's different from the Hero Killer," commented Orca. "He doesn't show off his kills. And the victims themselves are all criminals, so it makes them even harder to verify."

Tsukauchi nodded. "I was just getting to that. All of his victims are, without exception, criminals who were suspected of serious crimes: rapists, drug dealers and traffickers are his preferred targets. As for the ones not suspected of anything, it is very likely that they committed similar crimes or were direct accomplices."

"The lowest of the low then," Ingenium said, his chin rested on his armored hand. "But none of them were Villains, right?"

The detective paused and tilted his head in thought before answering. "If we are going by the legal definition of Villain, then no. We have no direct evidence that the victims, bar the yakuza, illegally used their Quirks."

The Armored Hero's eyes briefly widened before giving him a nod.

"Ugh, is this going to be a waste of my time?" All eyes in the room looked at the imposing, red-haired man sitting in a corner, his blue eyes narrowed at Tsukauchi. "I know all of this. This Shinigami is nothing more than a Villain who thinks himself a Hero. The important question is, why isn't he here?"

Tsukauchi pursed his lips at the Number 2 Hero's attitude, not that he was unfamiliar with it. Still, it wouldn't kill him to show a little politeness. "We have sent an invitation to All Might as well, Endeavor. He sent a reply stating that should he encounter Shinigami, he will bring him to justice. Unfortunately, he is preoccupied with matters just as important as this one."

Endeavor's nostrils flared slightly, but he ultimately chose silence as his response.

"While I wouldn't use his exact words," said Orca while shooting a quick glare at Endeavor. "I do agree in some part that we know – or at least suspected - a good deal of the information you have shown us. You have confirmed many of those suspicions though, so thank you for that, Detective."

Tsukauchi waved him off. "It's fine. I have no doubt that you have all done some research into Shinigami. But I think we can all agree there is one more issue that we need to discuss." The screen changed to show the massive pillar of fire, dyeing the room in a faint blue glow.

"His Quirk. Or should I say, Quirks."

Everyone straightened themselves and the detective tried not to sigh in exasperation. Despite their professionalism, Heroes could be like children sometimes. When it came down to it, one of the first things that drew attention to a Villain (or Vigilante in this case) was their Quirk.

"…Quirks?"

He glanced at Eraserhead, who was staring at the screen calculatingly. His tone was even more serious than before. Tsukauchi understood why.

Multiple Quirks…that fact alone could lead the case down some pretty dark paths. Ones that Tsukauchi walked down himself.

"Yes. After examining the footage many times over, we have strong evidence to suspect that Shinigami is in possession of multiple Quirks. A form of invisibility," The screen changed to show a silent section of footage. In it, Domino was using his Quirk furiously in his office. At the other end of the screen, some of the tiles shattered in mid-air. "The empowered knife-throwing I mentioned before," the screen returned to the previous image. "A fire-based Quirk, one that produces flames at extraordinarily high temperatures."

Endeavor glared at the screen and let out a low huff, the corners of his beard momentarily sparking red.

"And…I'm sure you've all noticed something unusual when you watched the leaked footage?" The Heroes blinked in confusion at the question; except Eraserhead, whose lips were thinned.

Tsukauchi let out a soft sigh. Then again, he couldn't really blame them; if Tanuma hadn't pointed it out, he wasn't sure if he would've noticed. Turning the projector off, he asked: "Can any of you tell me what Shinigami looks like, apart from the fact that he wears a skull mask?"

Endeavor moved to reply, but then he paused. His face scrunched up as he tried to answer, but as the seconds ticked by, a let out a low snarl, and his eyebrows started to smoke. The other Heroes had similar reactions, looks of shock appearing on their faces.

"I see you understand. It seems that Shinigami is in possession of a mind-altering Quirk, one related to his appearance."

Silence stretched over the room. Mind-related Quirks were considered some of the most dangerous ones out there, especially in the hands of Villains. If a serial killer like Shinigami had a Quirk like that…

"…how is this possible?" asked Manual with a whisper. "How can a Quirk work through a recording?"

"I…too find it hard to believe," said Ingenium slowly. "Are you sure there wasn't something wrong with the camera?"

The detective shook his head. "We've examined both the camera itself and the CCTV network inside the building. Both show no signs of tampering." He then looked up and gave a firm look to all of the assembled. "These observations and facts have led us to classify Shinigami as an exceptionally dangerous individual, and is under serious consideration of being designated as an A-Rank threat."

Everyone drew a sharp breath. "That's the same ranking as the Hero Killer," commented Ingenium. "Is it that serious?"

Tsukauchi nodded. "Absolutely. The Police Force is asking of you to use whatever is within your power to find Shinigami and bring him to justice for multiple accounts of murder and vigilantism. Eraserhead, Orca, Endeavor," he addressed the three Heroes. "You have experience navigating through the criminal underworld. If criminals are dying and we aren't noticing, chances are that other criminals will. Eraser, you're especially important."

They nodded and Endeavor raised a flaming fist in front of him. "He will not escape."

"Good. Manual, Ingenium, you're both good at navigation through Tokyo and have an excellent record with high-speed response to threats. Use your resources to find out areas where Shinigami might frequent. If you need access to our records, you need only ask." He then returned to address them as a whole. "All of you, keep in contact with one another. If we're going to catch him, teamwork will be essential."

"Will we be allowed to bring in other Heroes for this?" asked Aizawa, earning a scoff from Endeavor and mutter about 'weaklings'. The detective looked to the Chief who gave him a quick nod. "Yes, but make sure you stress to them the point of not drawing too much attention. We've learned that Shinigami is a very cautious individual; a visible increase in our efforts might send him into hiding."

"And the press? They've been hounding you since that video."

At this point, the Chief spoke up. "We will prepare a statement, so don't concern yourself about that."

The Heroes all nodded and Tsukauchi tapped the file on the podium. "Good. Unless anyone has anything to add, then thank you all for coming and may we find Shinigami behind bars soon."

He turned and gave the Chief a quick bow before walking out of the room. Pausing next to the door, he let out a sigh. That debriefing was more tiring than he thought. 'I should go get a cup of water.'

The sound of footsteps behind him made him turn around to see Aizawa standing in the hallway. A brief gesture later and the two were walking side-by-side.

"Multiple Quirks. Do you think that it might be his work?"

Tsukauchi's eyes narrowed. "…I don't know. According to Yagi, killing other criminals is well within his nature. But something like this is too brazen, too bold."

Aizawa hummed. "You have a point. Still, that many Quirks can't come from natural means, so he must've gotten them from somewhere, and he's the only one we know who could do that."

The detective rubbed his jaw and sighed. "We've already made a lot of assumptions. We should wait until we have more intel on Shinigami before we start connecting dots."

The underground Hero gave a curt nod and the two resumed walking, all the while thoughts rumbled in Tsukauchi's head. Three months and no results left their mark on him. Now, he could only hope that with the additional support they would stop this killing spree once and for all.

Even now, who knew which unfortunate victim was suffering at his hands?

-x-

"Come on Ritsu, I'm not asking for a lot."

My carelessness has cost me. This time, the price is unfathomable.

"I mean, it's not every day that my precious recluse of a son talks to someone his own age."

Universe, God, Allah, whatever you're called, I must ask thee:

"Much less the fact that she's a cute girl."

Is this my punishment? The karma inflicted upon me for my mission?

"I just want to know how she caught your interest."

Although to my surprise, it doesn't seem as bad as yesterday.

"Dating and grandbabies will come later."

I stand corrected.

I weakly groan and look up from the table. I shoot my mother a glare, to which she just grins. "Mom, I told you a dozen times already: it was just a conversation, nothing more. I hardly think that constitutes as grounds for friendship, let alone dating."

She raises an eyebrow. "Really?" she asks. "Name one time in the past few months when you actually talked to someone your age that wasn't for school purposes."

I move to answer, but I hesitate. Damn it, she had a point. Even before I became an assassin, my interactions with schoolmates ranged, with the exception of the above-mentioned fact, from muted to nonexistent. Seeing as nothing comes to mind, I simply clamp my mouth shut and keep glaring at her.

"See? If you were older, I'd take you out for a night of drinking."

"I don't think that encouraging your son to drink is a good look for a lawyer Mom" I reply, feeling the corners of my lips twitch. "Besides, I still really don't think that it's a cause for celebration."

She just waves. "Oh, hush you." Placing one leg over another she asks "Can you at least tell me something about her? You say you've met her before."

"Yeah, during the last time we were in the mall. Didn't you see her?"

"Nope," she replies, shaking her head. "I must've been talking to the tailor too much."

I lean back and idly rub the table. "There's not that much I know about her actually. Her name's Kyoka Jiro, she likes music and she's going to U.A. That's all."

Mom's eyes slightly widen. "U.A? Impressive. The Hero course, I presume?"

"Yup. She gave me her number BUT" I quickly say in response to the growing smile on her face. "I doubt that we'll be meeting anytime soon. I don't really have a reason to hang around Mustafu."

While Mom does nod slowly in acceptance, I can see that she still wants to say more. "You should at least text her. Just for casual talk, from time to time." Her tone softens as she looks at me with those blue eyes, so much like my own, but filled with warmth. "Please Ritsu, I'm worried. I know you have trouble with people, but it's not mentally healthy for you to be like this."

…Goddamn it, Mom. I look down at the table and bite my lip. "You've never said anything serious about this before. Why now?"

"…you're growing up."

A sigh escapes my lips. I'm not stupid; she does have a point. Mawla isn't exactly 'friend' material. Honestly, there are times when I'm surprised at how well-adjusted I turned out. As well-adjusted as an assassin can be.

That doesn't mean I have to like it.

"Mom? Did you ever want to become a Hero?" I ask, changing the subject.

"A Hero?" I look up and see her tapping her chin in thought. "Hm…not really."

I tilt my head. "Not once?"

She keeps tapping before shaking her head. "Nope. If I did, it wasn't anything more than a stray thought. But I did like helping people. That, and my Quirk, is why I became a lawyer."

I lean forward slightly, placing my arms on the table. I think I remember her telling me something like that before. "But why do you like helping people?"

She gives me a strange look. It's hard to describe; a mix of surprise and deep thought. She fiddles with strands of her black hair before looking me in the eyes. "The answer to that…I'll tell you some other time."

I give her a flat stare. "Wow. Real original" I deadpan.

She shrugs. "It is what it is." Lifting her mug of coffee, she asks. "Do you have anything planned today?"

I pause. That's a good question. I'm seriously considering going to the Nine Rings to fish for more information, maybe return to hounding the yakuza. I also consider going to that Villain market for leads, but I drop it. With Shadow Gear so close, I don't want to risk it. I haven't contacted them since that video leaked; I don't want to know how far their claims of confidentiality extend.

Another option is going to the World Collection. The thought makes me internally wince in shame. Ever since this whole…thing started, I haven't visited there once. A combination of focus on my new mission and the conversations with Mawla about his life – more insightful than any museum – kept pushing back any visits. Well, now that would change.

"I was thinking of going out for a walk, then heading to the World Collection. There might be a new exhibit."

Mom leans back on her chair. "The World Collection, huh? That sure brings back memories. I'd be tempted to go with you if it wasn't for this sudden assignment Takashi gave me."

"Heh. Bet you never thought you would deal with this when you finished law school."

She shoots me a glare and this time I flash a grin. "Cheeky brat," she mutters. "Well, go on then. Don't let me keep you waiting."

I get up and grab the gym bag. Since it's a bit chilly outside I stuff a hoodie in it. I throw the bag over my shoulder and approach the door, but then Mom speaks again.

"Ritsu, I know you're not comfortable with this. But that girl seemed like a nice person; I've seen all kinds of people in my career, and that girl isn't one of those assholes I whine on about." I turn around and look at her, her gaze boring right into me. "So I'm asking you: can you at least try?"

…

…

…damn.

"…okay Mom. I'll try."

She smiles at me and waves me off. Sending her a wave of my own, I quickly find myself headed down the street towards the station. The ride itself passes in mental silence, to my slight dismay. What Mom said was bouncing all over the place. After I enter Hosu and slip into the alleyways, I 'ring the bell'.

'Mawla, I think another round of training would be nice.'

I hear silence for a few moments before Hassan's deep voice answers. 'What is thy plan, contractor?'

'Training, a bit of patrol, visit the museum, then scope out the Nine Rings bar.'

'Adequate. Very well, I shall prepare a training set.'

'Thanks.' I finally reach the old door. Entering the darkness, I make my way down the stairs. I change into my work outfit without the gauntlets and Hassan manifests before me.

"Today thou shall practice thy hand-to-hand combat techniques. If thy performance is satisfactory, we shall incorporate weapons techniques." Wordlessly, I slip into a basic fighting stance: bent knees tucked arms, and half-formed fists. He raises an arm and makes a beckoning gesture. "Come."

I move.

Another thing I learned about Mawla over these past few months: for a priest and a centuries-old wraith, he was a ferocious fighter, be it with a dagger or with his bare hands. Despite his size, he was very nimble and swift. How much of that is a consequence of his wraith-like state and how much of that was carried over from his time alive, I don't know. But it doesn't matter. Sparring with him is like fighting a river of shadows. I never get in an actual hit. Every block turns into a counterattack, every dodge a silent rush. It takes all of my mental faculties, reflexes, and a tiny use of my Quirk just to keep up and if I'm lucky, score a hit. But not win.

Not anytime soon.

"Again."

Time always seems to pass by strangely when I train. Sometimes it crawls at a snail's pace, other times it flies by without notice. Honestly, it all depends on how painful he makes it and how many times I fail. But regardless of the time, I feel…content. Or as content one can be when getting pummeled to the ground over and over. I cannot explain exactly why. The words elude me.

At some point, I draw the old dagger. Mawla doesn't arm himself, not that it matters. With his sheer ferocity, he could take on an army of Pro Heroes unarmed. If he uses a knife or that enormous sword…

I dwell on it no longer when I feel a vicious punch to my gut and a sharp tip pressed to my neck. Slightly recovering from that blow, I peek at my hand to see the dagger gone, now in Hassan's grip. I can't do anything; the slightest move anywhere would result in death, had this been a real battle. I bow in submission and he drops me to the ground.

"Thy physical strength needs work. Thy technique is solid at its root, yet its branches rattle in the wind. It is far from perfect…" he looks down at me with those flaming eyes. "But it is better."

I bow my head as I fight down the smile. That would lead to more pain. "Thank you, Mawla."

I look back up and wait for the next instruction. His next words though come as a bit of a surprise.

"I believe that a small endurance test will do thou good. Go outside and circle the block ten times, with thy gear and Concealment active."

I wisely refrain from commenting and equip my knives and gauntlets. I head back outside and look down the alley. Taking a deep breath, I start running.

When I first started training with my new gear, difficulties revealed themselves. The extra weight on my arms and waist made it harder to breathe and I found my stamina reserves much smaller than before. But then I recalled those anime where the MCs wore training weights and – in conjunction with Hassan's thoughts – realized what I was doing was very similar. I'd considered adding additional weights, but for some reason never got around to it. I need to remember that for next time.

I exit the alley and circle the street, maneuvering through pedestrians and keeping my breath steady. Occasionally I duck back into the alleyways and navigate through the maze they make. I settle into a rhythm as I jog, making sure my breathing pattern is steady. On the seventh or eighth loop, Mawla speaks up.

'I wish to address an issue.'

'Oh?' I mentally ask, lightly panting as I keep running. 'What is it?'

'It is related to the conversation thou had with thy madar. She has a point.'

What?

I nearly trip at that, thankfully still in an alley. I lean against a wall and catch my breath. 'What do you mean, she has a point? Isn't me not having friends a good thing when it comes to assassination?'

'In thy normal life, it certainly makes things easier, true. But I am referring to something of a similar nature: contacts.'

My eyes widen behind the mask at that statement. Contacts? As in, info suppliers?

'Yes. Up until now, thy targets have come from overhearing other criminals, be it deliberately or through luck. While thy ability makes this easy for you and it is a commendable approach, with the rate thou art progressing thou shall need to find a more reliable source of information. One that can deliver intelligence to you even when thou are not seeking it in person.'

I look down at the pavement as I mull over his words. He has a point. A very big point. After Domino, I promised I would properly scout and research my targets. I've followed up on that, first scoping out the area or identifying scumbags, but if I want to keep that promise, I would need a source of intel other than myself. There's just one problem:

Where do I find one?

The first option that comes to mind is the dark web, but I quickly shut it down. I do not want another close call to happen like with Shadow Gear. Going to a library perhaps? A spare laptop? Those all have their issues, all in regards to tracing. Still, if nothing else…I shelf the idea and move on.

News reports? I need to hit criminals preferably before they strike. Useful for catching up on an already existing individual or group, but not for that. I have access right in my pocket anyway, so I can always take a look.

That left…people. Yeah, there are just two problems with that.

'In case you've forgotten Mawla, I killed a Hero on camera and I killed many more criminals in the shadows. I can't go to Heroes or anyone associated with them unless I want to find more Heroes chasing after me, and I'm pretty sure if a criminal or Villain finds out who they're talking to, they'll try and gut me alive. That, and I hardly think anyone working for or with criminals would be so willing to impart information like that.'

'I never said it would be easy. I am merely stating the facts.'

I sigh. I don't think anything I've done related to this job in the last half-year was easy. 'I know. I'll think of something, I promise.'

I set out again and resume my jog, but as I'm about to start the final circuit, I hear it.

Boom!

I sharply turn in the direction of the noise. Apart from the tall buildings, I don't see anything. But it came from…the east. Yes, east, if I remember the sunrise/sunset directions correctly. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a couple of people pausing as well. Whatever it was, it was loud.

I stand still for a moment and then shrug. Eh, what's the harm?

I run in the direction of the boom. As I approach what I believe to be the source of the noise, I notice that there are more people moving that same direction. Definitely something big. After a few more minutes, I arrive at the scene, and the sight makes me pause and blink in realization.

'Villain attack. Of course.'

There are only three things that attract masses of people in the middle of the street: A Hero walking by (opportunity for autographs), a Villain attack (seeing Heroes in action and more opportunities for autographs), or flash concerts (even more autographs – there's a pattern, is there?). But unless that Hero looks American, is muscular and is named All Might, Heroes don't draw this big of a crowd. And I'm not hearing any music so…yeah, Villain attack.

But no Heroes.

The building I'm looking at looks like another generic office building, or at least it used to. Because the front entrance and the windows next to it are all shattered, the glass shards scattered over the sidewalk. Standing in front of the wrecked glass and behind giant spikes of earth is a burly man wearing a dark brown vest and steel gauntlets. His head is hidden behind a…is that a motorcycle helmet?

The clicking of phone cams fills my ears and I shut down my Quirk. From behind the gathered crowd of onlookers, I see the flashing of police lights. I move forward, slipping through gaps and see that several officers are pushing some spectators away.

Briefly making sure that my Concealment is still active, I return my gaze to the helmeted thug. Is this a robbery? This place does look like a bank...no, something's not right.

"Good day to you all, people of Tokyo and Japan."

The voice echoes through the streets and I look up. On the edge of a broken window a few floors up, there is another man, more slender-looking than the one on the ground. He seems to be wearing a suit and a mask depicting a man with a thin mustache, the one that some hackers wear. In his hand is a large megaphone.

"I apologize to you all for interrupting your busy schedules, but I promise this will only take a moment of your time." His voice sounds young, yet smooth.

"I represent a group of concerned individuals; people who have seen the façade that is the Hero system, and how it has harmed the citizens of this nation. It has made you all into mindless sheep, unable to muster the will to survive or fight unless a Hero is nearby. That mentality has claimed the lives and minds of many, hiding in the shadows and unable to make their voices heard. My colleagues and I are of those people and bear many scars as a result of that mentality. Today, we take the first step to change this system."

He gestures to the building. "In this building, there are thirty or so hostages. In order for them to go free, they must work together and free themselves from our hands, thereby also taking the first step to recognizing their inner strength. Any of you bystanders watching are also welcome to join in this exercise and try and free them. BUT!" He raises a finger. "If any Hero or policeman tries to interfere, the exercise will end and the hostages will be 'refreshed', so to speak. And the exercise will resume on another day, in another place, with a new batch of oppressed." I think even a deaf man understood the context of that word.

A hostage situation. That's a first for me. How do I deal with this? Do I even deal with this? There are way too many people, and it's in broad daylight. Not to mention the fact that a Hero or Heroes could come along and want a battle like that is very low on my priority list. Domino was a fluke and proven to be trash. I don't want to know what will happen if I kill an actual Hero.

As I ponder over the matter, I faintly notice that someone stepped out of the crowd. The cracking of pavement snaps me from my thoughts and I fully see that one of the cops is lying on his behind, with a huge earthen spike jutting out right in front of him.

"Ah-ah-ah!" calls out the masked man, wagging a finger. "Naughty policemen need to abide by the rules! In case you all were too distracted to notice; my associate will keep any unwanted visitors away. Those spikes are nothing to scoff at and neither is the speed which he can make them." He removes the megaphone from his face and gestures to someone behind him. A punkish woman with ripped clothes, a ponytail tied behind a shaved head and wearing a kabuki mask stepped forth, dragging and hauling up an elderly man in a disheveled suit. "To make sure you understand that we are not joking around or bluffing, I ask that all children who might be watching this look away."

The woman pulls out a knife…and the suited man falls to the floor beneath her, his throat wide open.

Gasps and screams fill the air as I look at the window with shock. They just…

"Oh, and one more thing! If the hostages haven't freed themselves in thirty minutes, then a third of them will suffer the same fate as this poor gentleman. Thank you, and we wish you all a pleasant day."

With those words said, he and the woman withdraw back into the building and the crowd starts whispering among themselves. But I barely notice that. What's on my mind is the image of that man's expression as his throat was slit. Pure fear. I've seen that expression many times, mostly on my enemies and once on the faces of those children in the trafficking station.

But never in a position like this.

My fists clench as I feel cold rage overtaking me. So, they want to play bloody? That's fine. When I'm through, they will see so much blood that not even their ghosts will want to –

'CONTRACTOR!'

I flinch as Hassan's voice echoes in my head. 'Mawla!'

'Control thyself!' he says, chiding me. 'Or hast thou already forgotten thy promise?'

I swallow in shame. He's right. I nearly did something reckless, and now that I think about it, I have no idea how it would turn out. Taking a deep breath, I relax my body.

'I'm sorry Mawla. You're right; I can't go rushing in again.'

'Good. Thou art an assassin, not some lowly street thug. Patience is thy ally; use it well and thy blade shall always strike true. Now, thou art correct that this is not a matter thou can leave be. What is thy objective and how shall thou go about achieving it?'

I look towards the entrance where the helmeted thug was standing there, menacingly. 'The objective…is to eliminate the hostage-takers without letting any harm come to the hostages. I need to do this without drawing any attention from the outside.' I take a peek at the phone of the person next to me, who was recording the event. 'And I've got around 25 minutes to do it before they bail.'

'Good. Then what is thy plan of attack?'

I look back and forth between the man and the building, scratching the side of my mask as I do so. 'Well, if I don't want to draw any attention, then I can't kill 'Spikes' over there. And I need to give myself as much freedom of movement as I can, so…' I take a closer look at the windows. They were darkened glass, not clear panes, meaning that nobody could properly see anything inside. Useful for hot days, but in this case…

Hmm…I wonder if…

-x-

The masked man sat down on the revolving chair and sighed. "That was a bit stressful, I must admit. But all is going according to plan." He took in the décor of the office, no doubt belonging to some manager or executive. A calligraphy scroll hung on the wall and the chair was of very high quality, colored in forest green. Even a small bottle of spirits stood on the polished table.

He turned to his female colleague, sitting on a similar chair in front of him. "Were there any issues with the new students?"

She shook her head. "Not since the broadcast. They've quieted down, but that's all they're doing. Just cowering there next to their desks."

He waved at her. "They will fight back. Even if a touch more intimidation is necessary, they will fight back. The desire to live is stronger than whatever rules society has placed." He then took a better look at her and noticed that her posture was slouched. "Are you okay?"

She looked at him for a moment or two before sighing and removing her mask, revealing a youthful face with violet eyes. "It's just that…before I killed that man, he was practically begging me to spare him. He didn't even try to fight back. Did we have to do it?"

The masked man tilted his head at her. Wordlessly, he got up and moved around the desk, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I understand your feelings. Taking a life, especially like that, is never easy. But we had to show the police and the Heroes that we are not to be messed with. Besides, it is as you said: that man lacked the will to fight back. He was too set in this wretched mentality that ruined our lives, and was thus unworthy of living in the new society we will usher in."

The woman slowly nodded and he patted her shoulder. "Excellent. Now, why don't you go in and check on the hostages? Make sure to keep the walkie-talkie on you at all times."

Her expression steeled and she rose from the chair, the mask firmly in her hand. At the foot of the door, she turned around and addressed him. "Hey, if we kill all of the hostages, won't that just mean the Heroes will come at us harder?"

"Yes, but don't worry" he waved off her concerns. "I have a secure location we can stay in before we move out of the city. And as for the Heroes themselves, let's just say I have a contact who is willing to-"

The lights suddenly went out.

The woman jumped in place and quickly looked around. The leader frowned behind his mask. "Stay here for a moment," he said to her before pulling out his own walkie-talkie and pressing the PTT button. "Sentinel, did anyone enter the building?"

A crackle of static later, a response came. "Nope. They're all just standing there - HEY! DIDN'T YOU HEAR? NO POLICE! – sorry. Other than that cop, no one even tried. Cowards, the lot of them."

"Yes yes, thank you."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, everything's in order. Stay out there and keep doing your job. If anything happens, we'll call you." He pressed the button again. "Slugshot, do you copy?"

Another crackle of static. "This is Slugshot, I hear you. What's going on with the lights?"

"I'm not sure. Did anyone try anything?"

"Just like Sentinel, nothing. They're looking at us like we're the ones who did it."

His frown grew deeper. "It seems then we have an unexpected guest. Are all of the lights gone?"

A faint shuffling came from the speaker. "Looks like it. The stairway's gone dark too. Should we start killing?"

"No. Perhaps this is one of those who have seen the truth. Just in case though, send someone downstairs to check on things."

"Way ahead of you. I sent Jit-uh, Whip downstairs a few moments ago. Maybe a fuse got blown."

"Perhaps." He replied, yet he still felt unsure. "Remember the code names from now on, alright?" He disconnected and pressed it again. "Whip, this is Fawkes, do you copy?"

No reply. "Whip, I repeat, do you copy?"

A different crackle drew his attention to the woman, who had taken out her own device. "Whip, I'll tear you a new asshole if you don't answer, do you copy!?"

Like before, silence. This was no accident; an unknown was in the building. Barking a quick "stay sharp!" to the men downstairs, she looked at him. "This is good, right? Someone's fighting back."

He nods slightly as he looked down the now-dark hall. This was good, could be good. Someone had suppressed the rules of their society and was rushing to aid his fellow men and women, regardless of whether he had a license or not. That was what he wanted, after all. Why they had set out in this admittedly risky mission.

Then why was a sense of dread creeping up his spine?

-x-

Keitaro shivered as the woman next to him quietly sobbed. Ignoring the shushing of the others, huddled next to him on the floor, he gently rubbed her back. Leaning into him, he whispered soft reassurances in her ear. After a few more sniffles, she calmed down.

"Th-thank you" she whispered.

He smiled at her. "No problem. We're all scared here."

She looked into his eyes and her lips quivered. "It's just – I remembered my brother. We had a fight a week ago and I haven't apologized. Now, I don't know if I'll be able to-"

"Don't think about that" he said, cutting her off. "These guys are lunatics if they expect us to actually fight them. The Heroes will come and defeat them, I'm sure of it. Then you can apologize to your brother."

A faint smile grew on her lips. "You're good at this," she said, rubbing her eyes.

He let out a chuckle and slightly. "Trust me, when your wife has anemia and self-esteem issues, you get a lot of practice." He looked up at the sight of the three Villains standing guard. "Why did the lights go out? It's not a scare tactic or they wouldn't have yelled at us. And the way that guy started whispering into his device doesn't seem like an act."

"M-maybe help is on the way?"

The bespectacled man bit his lip. "I hope so." He turned his gaze to the Villain with the odd-looking jaw. After using his Quirk to fire what looked like rocks at a table and reduce it to splinters, he rounded them all up and made them listen to the message. One of them was taken upstairs. It was obvious what happened to him, and what would happen to them if nothing changed. But right now, he was looking at the door to the main staircase impatiently. One of the Villains went through there when the lights went out and so far, hadn't returned. He shifted himself on the ground and looked at the other hostages. They were growing more worried by the second; the dark room and the windowpanes that blocked out sunlight didn't help at all.

"Come on," muttered a bandana-wearing Villain holding a pistol. "What's taking the guy?"

"I don't know," grumbled the third one, a scary-looking Villain with a sack of flesh under his chin. "He should be back by now and he hasn't answered his comm."

The bandana Villain bared his teeth before suddenly aiming the pistol at the crowd, making them and him scoot away. "Maybe if I fire a round, whoever's hiding will have the balls to show his ugly-"

"Stand down!" barked the jaw Villain. "You know what the boss said."

His friend snarled at him before reluctantly lowering the firearm. He shot the crowd a nasty glare and trudged over to the other two. "We obviously have a smartass in the building and he's taken care of Whip and the moron on the ground floor. Now, this is what the boss wants so maybe this is a good thing, but if you see anyone who isn't us or" he gestured to the hostages "these losers, rush him. Don't kill him or anything like that, but break a few bones."

The two Villains nodded and then out of nowhere a thump was heard, coming from behind him. Right where the door was. The bandana villain hissed at the hostages to stay down and Jaw narrowed his eyes. "Bullfrog," he gestured to the door. "Be ready."

His sac-chinned comrade nodded and walked slowly towards the door. The entire room had gone silent, watching the Villain with bated breath. The two Villains also watched, with the younger-looking one aiming the gun at the door. When he finally reached the door, he peered through the rectangular windows. Grunting he lightly pushed it open and…

He looked out the opening. He pushed the door even further to the point where it was fully open. Keitaro stared at the dark-yet-empty hallway confused. What was going on?

The Villain turned to his partners-in-crime and shook his head. "I don't see anything. Maybe it was just the-"

"AAAAGGGHH!" The bespectacled man quickly turned around and felt his eyes widen at the sight of the bandana Villain clutching his now-bloody hand, the pistol lying on the ground next to him. And was something sticking out of the hand?

"Motherfu-AAHH!" He fell to his knees as whatever was stuck in his hand violently tore itself out of it and flew to the middle of the room, behind Bullfrog. Before anyone could react properly, the bandana Villain's head jerked backward, his cloth falling to the ground as a knife struck through his forehead.

Like the one before, the knife flew back to the same spot and vanished. The Villain fell over, a faint noise gurgling from his lips.

Bullfrog let a fierce growl and his chin sac swelled in size. Keitaro braced himself and held the woman that he helped; whatever that Villain was going to do, it was not something he wanted to experience point-blank.

But before he could unleash whatever Quirk he had, the sac was suddenly sliced open. A massive amount of air blew from it, buffeting the room. The Villain let out a strangled cry, but a knife struck his forehead like the other one. The knife flew out, but unlike his partner, he remained standing. At least for a few more seconds, because then he fell down with a loud thud that echoed throughout the room.

A peek at the crowd showed that they all had more or less the same reaction as him: shocked at the sudden and bloody death of the Villains, yet relieved that someone was saving them. The last Villain standing had a more violent reaction.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" he yelled, eyes darting left and right. A cracking sound started rumbling from his chin. "I don't know who or where the fuck you are," he yelled, his voice distorted by his Quirk. "But you've made the biggest mistake of your shitty life!"

He reared back his head to fire at the door and –

Pow!

"BLARGH!" Rocks flew from his mouth and pelted the door as he stumbled backward. Keitaro couldn't see it well, but there was something on his chest area. There was a faint zipping noise and whatever was stuck in his chest flew back into the darkness, much like the knives that killed the other two. The Villain clutched his chest, his breath growing heavy. He looked back into the darkness and his eyes rapidly grew wide. In them, even with the distance and lack of light, Keitaro saw something he only saw in movie theaters and a couple of times in his family inn: pure, unbridled fear.

"W-wait, you're that killer! Shini-glurgh!"

His hands suddenly flew to his throat as a wet shlick was heard. Something seemed to push him, and he joined the rest of his friends on the floor. Dead.

Keitaro gripped the floor as the sweat marred his suit. What just happened!?

"Leave now. There's no one else below."

A few seconds later after processing those distorted words, Keitaro joined the others in rushing toward the stairway. After witnessing that bloody spectacle, he didn't need to be told twice.

-x-

"Fuck!" the woman yelled, smashing her fist on the wall. "What the fuck is going on!?"

The masked leader rubbed the chin of his mask as his mind raced furiously. Not just Whip, but Bullfrog, Slugshot and Raider (a rather juvenile code name to be honest) had gone silent. That meant that the hostages were free, at least until they encountered Sentinel. But there were more pressing concerns at the moment.

"It seems that our mystery guest has dealt with our comrades downstairs. As such, the hostages are no doubt making their way towards the exit."

She ripped the mask off her face and gritted her teeth. "Shit. The mission's bust then?"

"On the contrary!" He replied. "Someone risked their life to free the hostages and the police and Heroes haven't done anything! We may have lost comrades, that is true, but part of our goal was realized today."

The woman shot him a fierce glare, indicating that she really didn't share his opinion. "Then what do we do now!?"

He raised his arm placatingly. "Now, we withdraw and retreat into the shadows. We gather new like-minded associates and find a new target. Naturally, I shall implement new measures into the next lesson, to further ensure that no one will be able to stop the revelation of truth. Follow me."

He started walking forward towards another corridor, where another stairwell lay, leading to a back entrance. But just before he passed an open doorway, he heard it.

And good thing that he did, because he managed to avoid the very nasty slash that would've otherwise ruined both his mask and face. Instead, it left a noticeable gash on the wall.

His female compatriot scooted back as he activated his Quirk, one of his best weapons. With a mere gesture, a long and silvery chain shot out of his palm. He twirled his arm and the chain lashed in the empty air, hitting nothing. Taking a second to breathe, he flicked his other wrist and a second chain shot out of his palm. If he could shoot out multiple chains, it would serve his cause even better, but he made do.

A snap to his side made him see the woman undo her hair and throwing it to the side of her face. The now-free ponytail was crackling with electricity. Turning back to the empty corridor, he called out to the unknown assailant.

"I must say, you nearly got me there. Are you perhaps the one who defeated my men?" Silence was his answer.

"Now now, I know you have reason to mistrust me, but I merely wish to know who was it that understood what society should be."

His reflexes acted up and he managed to block something flying towards him at incredible speeds. Another whoosh drew his attention to the object in question flying backward and disappearing from sight. He let out a sigh. Honestly, was good conversation so hard to come by these days?

"My dear, why don't you help me subdue this man before the Heroes come?" The woman narrowed her eyes at the form of address but nonetheless nodded. She charged the room and wildly swung her head and hair around, sending sparks flying. He raised his arm and prepared himself to strike. The moment she would stun and ensnare their guest, he would further bind them with his twin chains. Whether he would then knock them out or take them with him for recruitment.

The woman must have seen something because then she rushed forward with a manic grin on her face. "Got you!"

She grabbed something and the leader felt the grin forming again as he watched her grapple with the invisible person. He stepped forward, arm and chain raised and about bind the assailant when –

"AH!" The woman yelled and stepped back, her arm now sporting a bloody gash. He quickly snapped his arm forward and pulled the woman back with his chain…but not before the knife left another mark on the side of her head.

She hissed as she placed a palm on the cut. That did not look good. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine!" she bit out. "Fucker got me good. But it's really hard fighting an invisible man. Especially with those knives; it's like they came out of…nowhere…" Her eyes started to widen and he saw her body starting to shiver.

"Boss. I think…that's him."

He tilted his head, keeping his eyes forward. "'Him'?"

She quickly nodded. "You know…the one who killed that cheesy fake Hero. The one with the flying invisible knives."

The leader felt his own eyes widen. "I see."

He had of course, like so many others, heard of this mysterious Vigilante. At first, many thought him a fellow Villain or oppressed, striking out against Heroes. But that all changed when certain rumors began flying around in the underworld. How certain gangs were all found dead with knife marks on their bodies. Gangs that even some criminals distanced themselves from. And there was another rumor…one body was found amidst those knife-ridden ones charred to the bone. A state that some said was very similar to the deceased fake Hero Domino. Many names had been invented for him, but several stood out, most prominently the name he was given by the Tokyo Police Force.

"Shinigami…that is who you are isn't it?" He called out. Truth be told, the sense of dread from before had returned. The one thing consistent about the rumors was this: no victim was left alive. Not. One.

If he was here then…then his men were no longer of the living.

"Or is it The Assassin? Villain Killer? I…I had no idea I was in the presence of such a notorious figure. You've made quite the waves in the streets did you know that?"

"What are you doing?" she hissed. Her trembling was far more visible now and her voice had gained an edge of hysteria. "This ninja fucker is gonna gut us like fish if we don't scram!"

He bit back a vicious reply. He knew that, but he had to stall. He didn't know why this killer was here, but he would not let his mission die. He opened his mouth to whisper to his comrade to retreat, but he heard it too late.

She knelt there, an expression of surprise forever etched on her face as an invisible weapon pierced her skull. Her head violently jerked forward and both blood and brain matter dripped on the floor.

At this moment his calm left him. All that he could think of right now was getting out of there and as far away from this…wraith…as possible.

But it was not to be.

He felt himself being slammed down. Then being pulled up and having his mask torn off. Staring into those ghastly blue eyes, too inhuman to exist.

"Your orders have caused innocent blood to be shed. You endanger helpless people for your own ideologies. The evening bell has tolled thy name, and the Abyss awaits thee."

No. No.

"Please. I don't want to die."

How pathetic he was.

The skull tilted his head, and the response was chiding, like talking to a child.

"Bisogna morire, scum. Bisogna morire.

ZABANIYA!"

-x-

As I approach the door, I sigh. That turned out better than I had hoped. Finding the fuse box was easy; buildings like that always had a central one in the lobby. Then it was simply a matter of picking off the Villains one by one. Granted, I had hoped that they would all come at me in the corridors like the guy with whips for arms, but I made do. Even the big one - Bullfrog, I think - didn't have time to use his Quirk.

Concealment for the win once again!

The final two...well, it was trickier, but I caught the woman mid-grapple and slashed her. And when she was talking, a well-aimed grapple shot through the skull silenced her. I should practice using this thing more as an actual grappling hook. And the masked leader, well...I have no idea what prompted me to say that. Guess I listened to that album a few more times than I thought last night.

I push open the side door and step out into the alleyway. The splashing of drainage water barely distracts me from my thoughts. I can't stay for too long. The police or Heroes will deal with Spikes any minute now, and my arm is feeling incredibly numb. I walk forward a little bit more as I think about what to do. A nice relaxing visit to the Collection sounds even more pleasing.

"Wow. I have to say, I'm impressed."

I sharply turn to see a figure in the shadows. "I honestly thought the Heroes would barge in any time back then but I've gotta say, that was awesome."

He can see me? How can he see me!?

I take a step back and the splashing hits my ears once again. Ah.

He raises his arms. "Whoa, easy there. I'm not here to fight. The opposite, actually."

The figure steps forward and I blinked. Scars. Under his eyes, on his arms, even a bit showing on his chest, hidden under a black coat. His eyes look at me (or at my spot) with curiosity, and there's something else in them, something familiar other than their color.

Drive.

"Now, I'm sure you're paranoid as fuck, but I think actually seeing you would help. Before you ask me, if I really wanted to attack you..." He lifts his palm and to my surprise, a bright blue flame appears. "I would've torched this whole alley by now."

I narrow my eyes at him. What's he playing at?

'Contractor, dispel thy Concelament.'

Eh? What?

'There is something about this situation. I do not know what, but this man has a point. We are away from any prying eyes or ears. The lawmen and Heroes are too distracted by the hostages and finding the scum. My advice has never proven thee wrong.'

I'm not sure...ugh, fine. I still haven't reached the bottom of the crazy barrel.

I un-Conceal myself and he perks up in surprise. "Heh. You look even more badass than in that video."

"Who are you and what do you want?" I ask. I don't want to waste time. The man (although I think he's closer to my age, I can't tell) smirks and steps forward.

"The name's Dabi, and as to what I want...I just think that you and I can help each other."

-x-

Ritsu Ogawa (Assassin - Hassan-i Sabbah)

Stats:

Strength: D+

Agility: C

Endurance: D++

Mana: C++ (Only when using Power of the Valley. Otherwise, nonexistent.)

Luck: C+

Skills:

Presence Concealment D+: The ability to hide from others. A poor level for any Assassin, but against ordinary criminals and some intelligent ones it works well.

Throwing (Dagger) B and Throwing (Retrieval) B: The expertise for throwing projectile weapons; in this case, daggers. His daggers have the same destructive power as firearms when thrown, typically spelling certain death for human targets. He can retrieve them to his hand with but a mere gesture

Information Erasure C++: Erases all traces of the user's identity, physical or digital, after leaving a scene of assassination. It does not hide the user's identity in any other situation, and clues can be pieced together to deduce identity. If the user's identity is discovered, then the effects of the skill weaken. Rank increased thanks to multiple exposures outside of Presence Concealment.

Power of the Valley of Death C++: A unique connection forged as a result of finding a relic of Alamut. Assassin can draw power from the Valley to perform certain skills he would otherwise be incapable of doing.

Quirk - Super-Hearing C: A power gained as a result of evolution. Allows the user to hear precise details within a certain range. Can extend the range in exchange for loss of detail. Also alerts the user of incoming danger provided they can react to it.

Noble Phantasm:

Zabaniya - Delusional Judgment Rank C+

An 'ultimate assassination technique' bearing the same name as the angels of hell, a title which all previous 'Old Men of the Mountain' used for their own techniques. Unlike them however, who were forged by extensive modification of the Hassans' bodies, this technique is a reflection of the Assassin's desire to inflict what he deems true judgment. Calling upon his unique connection to the Valley in the Shadow of Death, Assassin drags his target's soul to the Valley, where the First Hassan awaits them. Their soul is laid bare before the Great Founder and should they be found guilty of whatever sin Assassin finds them to have committed, the flames of Gehenna will burn away their soul and body until naught but ash remains.