Chapter 11: Hope in Two Bags

The Police Force cordoning the battle zone watched in horror as their eyes glued to the nightmare called the Hunter Amongst Villains. When they volunteered to join the heroes' chase, they anticipated seeing Garou's defeat and his reign of terror meeting its end with great suspense boiling in their hearts.

Instead, they witnessed a nightmare in the form of Garou triumphing the heroes with overwhelming might.

With unmatched strength, speed without rival, and skills so alien it shattered mortal understanding, Garou single-handedly defeated their betters within five minutes, even though it felt like hours for all but Garou.

The Hero Hunter devoured their hope, consuming their confidence and morale as his food and drink and converting his meal into strength to use against them.

He ate their non-lethal rounds, tranquilizers filled with chemicals capable of downing even most vigorous or lively villains regardless of their size or might, and broke their weapons with them, two of which he reserved for Snipe, breaking his pistols and almost blasting his arms off.

Snipe now laid sprawled on the roof, knocked out of commission from the pain - arms still broken and dislocated. He can no longer lend his allies support from afar.

Then, in no time, Garou crushed almost all the heroes fell in piecemeal, regardless of their rank. Even if his foes were among the top fifty, top ten or even top five, he would still crush them indiscriminately with equal ease and ruthless oppression.

The unworthy and weak shall not stand in his crusade to purify the lands of 'justice,' the lie-riddled oppression in the guise of hope.

And to add into the horror, The Hero Hunter dropped an explosive revelation. It failed to sink through their common sense, their view of the world held back their understanding of Garou's words for a brief moment.

He was Quirkless. The man who preyed on heroes like sheep held no power from birth.

Hearing it come from the same man who could catch bullets with contemptuous ease would've sounded incredulous on all accounts like words from a hallucinating lunatic.

But not to Eraserhead. He knew since his Erasure failed to nullify his might expanded his mind to the possibility.

A man, born with no Quirk, who terrorized the hero world for months without challenge was their enemy. The heroes and Police Force didn't know whether to dismiss his words as ludicrous spiel or take it with a grain of salt.

Eraserhead took his words with more considerable attention than the others.

"...you're Quirkless?" The Anti-Quirk hero broke the confounded silence.

"Is it that shocking? No Quirks, no genetic nonsense, all pure technique," Garou grinned, relishing their reactions.

If a human could perform superhuman feats with no Quirk, another conclusion came to mind.

"What are you then? Don't tell me you're human?" Gran Torino queried. A Quirkless bearing this much power cannot be human.

"Really? You're asking me that?" His smile fell into a frown, scorn replacing mockery, "If you think Quirks determine our fate, then it only strengthens my point. You're nothing but losers and clowns playing hero in this useless world."

The first glimpse of the Hero Hunter's ideals opposes their initial expectations. He fought Heroes not out of violence, disguised madness, or pontificating fanaticism, but pure antagonism against modern society's collective view of heroes in general.

His true motivations overwhelmed them because he is the first Quirkless man that stepped into the fray between Heroes and Villains.

"You…" Garou stubbed Endeavour the most. The number two Hero has spent all his life trying to surpass All Might, resorting to using his own family as his pawns.

He wanted to surpass All Might all his life, while forced to suffer under his shadow without a shred of hope to surpass the light at the top.

His heart cannot accept Garou's truth despite his mind admitting it. He saw Eraserhead trying to render Garou helpless through the nightmare to no avail.

"You started this madness because… of Quirks?"

Endeavour did not want to acknowledge him. He refused to, for if Garou, a man with no Quirk, reached this level with his own power, then what was the point of his sacrifice? His efforts?

Then for what purpose did he, the hero who trained all his life to surpass All Might Quirk to no avail, forced upon Shouto?

"Those things you call 'superpowers' made you all weak and complacent. All this time, you lot thought me a fool drunk with power, but look at you all, who's the fool now? Tell me, how does it feel to have your confidence beaten into the dirt?" Garou shot back.

Such logic was profound, almost inconceivable. All villains to this day never truly followed their beliefs.

They claim the unfairness of Quirks and society despite relying on the same power that sourced their suffering.

Garou was different. He had no Quirk. He did not need it, and the truth was devastating.

They knew the feeling of which his previous victims shared was terrible, horrible for the heroes who came so far in the hero world like Edgeshot.

"I doubt there's a technique in the world that lets anyone catch flying bullets or cuts flesh with bare hands," Aizawa retorted.

If there were, Aizawa would have devoted all his time to master those techniques years ago in high school.

"Then 'erase' my 'Quirk' and take me in," Garou dared.

His sharp tongue made Eraserhead bite his lower lip bloody nearly. Garou slaughtered Aizawa's trust in his abilities with his mere standing here.

Endeavour refuses to listen to Garou much longer. He will not let a damn upstart tarnish his image with his arrogance.

"I don't care if you're Quirkless or a freak of nature. Surrender or we will be forced to use lethal force," Endeavor warned with hate leaking from his tone.

He narrowed his eyes in a searing glare, his gaze as scalding as his Quirk.

"Lethal force? Where?" Garou flashed the Flame Hero his middle finger. "I don't see anything lethal."

Grinding his teeth, his hate now exteriorizing, Endeavour seethed as he unconsciously superheated the air in his anger.

His tangibly burning rage touched even the heroes near him, unsettling them. Endeavour's composure melted like candle wax, the scalding fluid of viscous white landing on their morale - harming it.

Garou playfully followed, "What? Oh, wait, you mean yourself? Please, don't joke with me. As if the second best can do anything."

Garou's harsh words stoked Endeavour's dark flame into a frenzied inferno.

Endeavour can no longer silence his heart with temperance or will. He can only combust.

"One more word from your insolent tongue and I will-!" before Endeavour could finish, Garou punched the air.

BOOM!

A shockwave of air zipped to Best Jeanist and blasted him high in an arc over Endeavour at his boiling point. Best Jeanist landed unceremoniously, his face on the rough concrete with his lower body recurving like a bow.

The standing heroes stole a glance behind them. What did Garou do?

They looked back at Garou. His fist stretched straight forward, the knuckles facing the fallen Best Jeanist.

That stance reminded Gran Torino of…

"Like this one? Guess who I got this from." Garou laughed as he flexed his fingers mockingly.

The feel, the application, the impact, everything was all too familiar to Gran Torino but the uncanny precision. He felt the rushing air, but it was far too condensed, focused with an intensity never before seen.

"No…" Was it from him? From the same one who can split the clouds and sunder all evil in his prime?

"Yes, that's right. Consider it my version, superior to the crude original." Thrusting his hand at his right with a twisting wrist, Garou fired a blast of high air pressure at the concrete wall past the lamp post.

If All Might was a grand tsunami, Garou was the world's deadliest waterjet in human form. The streetlight post fell obliquely, the severed top sliding from the diagonal surface of its bottom as it clattered into the sidewalk. Subsequently, the building behind it suffered the same fate, the loud groan of stone grinding with ear-flinching friction. It slid down left until it met its neighboring twin across the adjacent alleyway, crashing with a heavy rumble as if a titan walked the earth.

The consecutive cuts were clean and free of cracks, all of which the heroes and Police gawped without exception.

"Isn't that…" Stunned to silence, Endeavour noticed the similarities of the technique, but not the application.

"Like the upgrades? I couldn't stand All Might's simplicity, so I modified it to my style. Be glad I didn't dice you all like confetti at first sight."

The heroes realized a horrible truth - that the monster hunted them without his fangs all this time. The glimpse of the true terror hidden under the sheep's clothing exceeded their realm of common sense.

"Monster…" Gran Torino uttered the only word that can describe Garou - a genuine, human monster.

"From what pit of the nine hells did you crawl out of?" Eraserhead asked while staring at the diagonally bisected building.

How on Earth did the world overlook someone of his caliber for so long? Sir Nighteye did state in their briefing that Garou did not exist in any records in Japan, or in general. It was like he popped out of thin air.

The question Eraserhead wanted to be answered was how.

"Oh, no, no. Not hell. Heaven. A bird dropped me here," Garou smiled.

However, his answer subverted their expectations like a kid smashing a glass house with a hammer.

'What?'

"You mock us even now?" Endeavour growled.

"But I'm quite serious. It was big, yellow, and spoke in an annoying voice."

'Are you messing with us?' was their silent consensus.

They were not sure if Garou was referring bird-type mutant Quirk user or some mutant bird in general, but his tone was too thick with absurdity to take into pensive account.

"Enough of this." Endeavour stepped forward, refusing to hear further 'nonsense.'

"I, Endeavour, Japan's Number Two Hero will personally bring you to justice." He declared with resolution.

Garou's response sounded cynical. "Someone's in love with his voice."

Endeavour ignored that, his stoicism unfazed.

"If that's your final response, then prepare to fall by my hand!" He aimed his finger at Garou, his body blazing an orange flare lighting the twilight dusk.

"Hoh?" Amused, Garou visually scanned Endeavour, sizing him up from head to toe.

He was not impressed, be it radiant effects or aggressive drama, "You look like All Might's cheap knockoff."

The heroes around Endeavour flinched upon feeling the air temperature spiking in response to Garou's taboo. Some stepped back two paces from caution.

The heroes present were aware of Endeavour's character, his weakness regarding All Might.

Endeavour, inflamed by Garou's direct comparison, warned, "Do not compare me to him."

"Oh?" Garou's eyes zoned into Endeavour as the corner of his lips curled upwards.

"So second-best has a jealous streak. Juicy~" Garou sang upon finding a morsel worth sampling.

Endeavour's features warped further from Garou's verbal oil, "Your throat will burn first."

Garou laughed, undeterred by Endeavour's threat. "Come at me, then, matchstick."

"Youuuuuuuuuuuuuu!" Endeavour finally set off, his rage-induced Quirk exploding a heatwave which buffeted the heroes as years of frustration escaped his throat as inflamed screams.

"Endeavour! Don't-" Eraserhead shouted, attempting to warn Endeavour not to take Garou's bait. But it was too late.

Endeavour took launched forth with an explosive step.

However, in their clash, Garou rammed his palm into Endeavour's chest, the impact bending Endeavour forward and expunging spit-mixed blood from his mouth. Like blowing out a candle with a huff, the resulting shockwave killed all of Endeavor's flame covering his body before Endeavour caromed tumbling over the floor.

"Buah?!"

Garou watched Endeavour rolling the floor in pain as he defeated a scream while clutching his chest. And like the snuffed candle, Garou's amusement died along with it, leaving only ashes of boredom and disappointment.

"Like I said, a cheap knockoff."

With scorn, Garou leaped in the air and crashed his fist into Endeavour's ribs, fracturing the cage of bones protecting Endeavour's lungs as the flat terrain behind collapsed under the force.

Garou grinned at the sight of spurting blood and white eyes.

"And you're out!" Garou laughed as if to amuse himself with Endeavour's fallen image.

The Number Two Hero's defeat snuffed the vestiges of kindled hopes. The heroes remaining or recovered from Garou's brutalizing could scarcely find the courage to fight - namely, the will to fight on.

Midnight, recovered, could barely stand, trembling with exertion and fear.

Edgeshot could not tear his sight away from Endeavour's defeated form as his body shook.

Most of the other heroes shared similar symptoms of despair, which worsened when Garou turned their focus to them.

"And as for the peanut gallery…"

Now confident in his victory, Garou walked forward with lax temperance as he walked over Endeavour - one step pressed on his face.

However, Gran Torino stepped in, blocking him from the rest of the heroes.

"Run, you brats!"

Gran Torino snapped them from their distressed stupor. In his desperate attempt to stall, he alone knew - he understood the threat Garou posed to Hero Society and the dangers he held, for Gran Torino armed himself with the knowledge of his pupil's downfall.

He savvied the situation better than most. Garou's hand now touched the delicate scale balancing the order of this world. They cannot allow him to tip it in favor of chaos.

"You're brave for a fossil. You that short on lifespan?" Garou stopped and whistled impress.

They did not know the old hero when Sir Nighteye added him to their team. Clouding mystery enveloped his background like a shadow, but his heroic spirit and nobility shone brightly enough in the dark for all to see.

"Oi, old man. What are you doing?" Eraserhead asked, his voice almost built into a shout.

He knew the reason behind the older man's intentions. The older man was about to martyr for them.

"Unlike those whippersnappers, I can't let you follow through with your intents." Ignoring Eraserhead, Gran Torino glared at Garou, ready to put his life at Death's door to protect the soul of hero-kind.

"You think your martyrdom can stop me from killing you all?"

"Heh, and doing nothing is better?" Gran Torino returned.

Garou's smirk rent into a straight line.

Gran Torino was milking Garou's patience to near empty. He quickly glanced behind him to see if they ran, but they remained stuck in a stupor. Why won't they run?

"Is this how you want to go out? Die as a useless fool?" Garou asked.

"We're all gonna die anyway! I like to meet my end as an inferno rather than a fading spark."

Garou's straight line bent into a frown.

"You serious?"

Gran Torino's time now ran short. Garou's mood for chatter was nearing its end, replaced with irritation.

"Got a problem with that, sonny?" He laughed.

Gran Torino could no longer extort Garou's hidden honor. He was glad All Might shared his tale of his encounter.

The old hero wondered if he could manage to escape with his health intact. He could imagine himself actually dying under one of Garou's infamous body mounds should he decide to end him. He really did not want to throw himself into the mouth of the meat grinder.

"As if I would waste time with a decrepit old fart."

Torino found Garou's insult provocative, and that Garou's tongue was as sharp as his might.

"Out of my way, shorty."

"Don't make this 'shorty' teach you a lesson." Inflamed, Gran Torino threatened with equal irritation.

"A lesson in what? Humiliation? Disgrace? Do you offer yourself as a sacrifice to demonstrate?"

'I'm doing it already.'

Gran Torino was surprised he managed to extend his time to this extent. Garou must immensely dislike fighting someone of his age.

However, in his mulling, the heroes he endangered himself for walked up beside him. Why did they not run?

"Oi…" Gran Torino veered his eyes sideways at the foolish youths. "I told you, youngsters, to run."

"Don't talk as if we can outrun a guy like him," Eraserhead dryly with a half-joking tone.

Gran Torino detected Eraserhead's attempt to quell his unease with humor.

"Do you even know what I'm doing?"

"Yes, and we appreciate the effort. But, unfortunately, our reckless youth won't let us run," Midnight answered with her own humorous choice of words.

On their shaking feet beside Gran Torino, five heroes stood while some stirred from their imposed slumber.

Gran Torino clicked his tongue, "You dumb fools will only feed yourselves to the meat grinder."

Eraserhead gave a weak laugh, "Well, I like this better than the 'other' meat grinder. A villain chewing me out is better than the press."

Gran Torino had no words to respond to that.

"Huh… good point."

It was either the frying pan or the fire underneath at this point, regardless. In actuality, this situation was unsalvageable the moment Eraserhead's Erasure failed.

"Then, young'uns, are you all ready to learn what it means to face an overwhelming foe?" Gran Torino already learned his lesson with All For One. This man was just as terrible as the Ageless Monster.

"Maybe," Midnight joined.

"I still owe him for the sneak attack," Edgeshot added.

Gran Torino misjudged them. They now look like proper heroes in their purest, their courage shining in the darkest night.

"You all should've stayed down like a good dog."

His piercing chides sparked only anger within the heroes from the verbal friction.

"We would rather bite back than to listen to you," Midnight shot back, pulling her whip tight.

"Ohhh, nice comeback. But that won't save you from the beatings I have in store."

With victory at his doorstep, Garou strode forth, ready to end this farce. Their displaying courage irritated Garou. He found their drive naive and weak.

Looking at them rising to their feet, deluding themselves of the reality before them, only further fueled his desire to break them piece by piece as he imagined how he would defile the street with their bodies.

Throwing their bodies in a growing heap had lost its appeal and throwing them into trash cans bored Garou. Maybe he should gather them and tie them up in one big ball using Edgeshot as the cloth and throw them into the ocean to fish for sharks.

If they can't get out of that amusing situation and die, then it only showed how pointless this world's heroes are.

As Garou pondered, he noticed the guy in full armor shambling towards him behind the line of rejects. His foot was about to step on his grocery bag far in the back. Garou's eyes widened as shock replaced his anger.

"Whoa!"

His groceries! He didn't come here to mess up his dinner! He swiftly fired a stream of air at the guy whose hero name he had already forgotten.

It struck him clean in the chest, knocking him down into somersaults while knocking out all the air from his lungs.

"..." The heroes stared at Garou for a moment. Garou did not think at that moment.

The safety of his groceries overrode his caution out of priority.

"Ah."

Which meant he had goofed.

---------

The heroes stared at Garou for a moment. They turned their heads from him to Ingenium, then back to Garou once more.

They did not miss Garou's slip. Despite him holding all the cards, Garou actually showed fear. But what was its source?

Eraserhead looked back at Ingenium, wondering what he did spook the unstoppable force. He only saw rubble, the standing SWAT members shuttling the unconscious heroes, Endeavour included, away to the medics that tagged along with them, and… two bags of groceries both which remained surprisingly untouched throughout the chaos.

'Wait…' Eraserhead remembered that Garou bought them from a supermarket. He looked back at Garou with curiosity, but the Hero Hunter returned his stare with glaring murder.

He could feel Garou's bloodshot ire visually burning a hole in his head.

He took one step back. Garou did not react. However, when he took another step, Garou's murderous rage flared into a scalding supernova.

When Eraserhead turned around to head towards the groceries blatantly, Garou, with one spanning step, crushed the ground beneath his foot with excessive force.

The explosive sound stopped Eraserhead's steps. Turning to Garou, they resumed exchanging stares in this awkward silence.

"…"

The surviving heroes looked at Garou as if witnessing a new animal. They tracked his line of sight and caught sight of the bags like Eraserhead did.

From the opening, they could see previews of celery, scallions, and the leaves of carrots spilling out.

"Got something precious in there?" Eraserhead asked as he briefly glanced at the bags behind him.

"No."

His tone was as convincing as a third-grade child trying to deny hiding their stolen cookies. They confirmed that he valued something there much.

"Mind if we take a look?" Eraserhead queried.

"One more step and I will pluck out your eyes."

Garou's threat only piqued their curiosity. As if by the drop of a hat, all the other heroes took a step back towards his groceries, hoping for the same reaction.

Garou, with another mighty step, cracked a broader crater with eyes gleaming murder at them.

The awkward silence returned, Garou and the heroes exchanging the same awkward stares.

If any bystanders watched, the scene would look no different than that of a stalemate. Only this time, one man severely outmatching the heroes was waiting for the others to draw their luck.

Within the still, tense battlefield, Gunhead asked, "So you don't have something very secret in there?" The hero asked.

"Just groceries."

Garou's answer made it sound as if he hid treasure in those bags.

"Then can we take a look?" Gunhead repeated Eraserhead's question.

"Why are you asking? No one touches my things without losing everything."

If they were honest, none of the heroes expected Garou to be this defensive over his possessions. His threat no longer held the same weight as before, only bolstering their curiosity to see the contents instead.

The heroes exchanged their glances, eyes visually consenting to their new change of plans. Their most significant chance of victory now lies in the grocery bags Garou held so vitally, as ridiculous as it seemed.

Why Garou valued them or what secrets lied inside, they did not know, but they knew the bags were crucial enough to rattle his composure. That alone was already a viable enough reason to use it against the unstoppable monster.

But it was a minacious line. One misstep and the monster will devour the heroes whole, bones and all.

"We don't have much choice, do we though?" Eraserhead snarked at Garou.

Out of their options of the frying pan or the fire, the heroes chose the latter.

"Then your lives are forfeit. Prepare to die."

They cast their die. They can no longer go back through the line of no return.

"Go! I'll hold him off!" Eraserhead stepped forth as the volunteering vanguard.

No tactic in the book could lead anyone to victory over any foe too overwhelmingly superior.

They acted on instinct now, drawing all of their combat experience they accumulated ever since they first enrolled as students in their respective Hero Schools.

One could say this was their most significant test so far.

"Go! I'll cover you!" Gunhead shouted, stepping behind him as the support.

---------

Those bastards were wising up.

Garou growled as he sprinted with intent to maim, to compensate for his great blunder.

His groceries were now under risk of being potential leverage. He would crush the heroes in ways that would make his previous hunts look tame in comparison.

If he falls, he will do so in a fight to the death, pouring out everything he got or die trying against a powerful foe - not by goddamn fate holding his secrets against him in its hands.

The first to block him was that mummy — the first in line as an example of what was to come.

"Do your worst, monster!"

His eyes gleamed with palpable rage, rattling all the heroes looking his way into the blazing fire.

"You first." The world Garou slowed as he accelerated, now everything was but a crawl to him, turtles moving in slow motion.

Grabbing the scarf the moment he threw it, Garou pirouetted towards Eraserhead, closing the distance like a fast-forwarded whirlwind through Gunhead's barrage of keratin rounds.

In less than a second, Garou stared directly into Eraserhead's eyes centimeters from his face, dominating his panorama like an invading storm. Garou knew he couldn't react, relishing the fear the mummy's eyes displayed with trembling in that respite.

During that transition, Garou twirled the scarf, surrounding both him and his quarry. They stood in the center directly under the eye of a pellucid tornado of white cloth.

Garou decided to use Eraserhead as his example with his excuse of a weapon, desiring to crush his pride first by showing him a glimpse true weapon mastery.

Garou ran past the mummy and leaped, pulling the metaphorical pin of the grenade, as the whirling scarf converged onto the hero like a serpent enwrapping its prey in a white cocoon of cloth as the hunter leaped through the shrinking gap and bypassed the entrapments with impeccable timing.

Landing near his groceries, his irate consuming their courage eyes, Garou spread his lips in contrast to the searing rage permeating from his pores.

Anticipation flowed through Garou, fantasies of promised brutalities he will soon enact, even more so when he pulled the literal Mummy to him by the scarf as Garou flew above the elderly dwarf into his hand like he was holding a staff, a weapon to be used. Garou rested his newest 'hunting tool' on his neck, brandishing the wriggling chrysalis unfazed by the struggles of the caterpillar within.

The bizarre combination of Eraserhead and Garou stunned the heroes. They cannot process the sight of Eraserhead within Garou's fingers as his human weapon.

"I did warn you."

Those were his last words before he resumed their execution - of their health and dignity.

"Go, Mummy, I choose you!" Uttering a line from a popular game Ghin introduced before, Garou dropped the cocoon to his feet with a flashing grin and kicked the defenseless mummy at Gunhead.

"Mmmmm!" The 'caterpillar' screamed, but his treacherous scarf dulled his panicking screams muffled during his unwanted flight.

"Again?!" Gunhead prepared himself this time, not wanting another repeat of his previous trouncings, but the Eraserhead chrysalis pulled itself back in a sudden halt, and with a kick, Garou relaunched his human weapon into his torso.

For the third time, another hero crashed into Gunhead, this time skull to skull with bolstered momentum, knocking out the martial hero out of the picture once and for all.

Muffled, Eraserhead cried in pain as Garou yanked him back in his vile clutches, his fingers latched tightly on his poor skull.

Facing the heroes, he spun his entrapped prey around his wrist and held him as if he was a weapon.

Pivoting Eraserhead around via his center of gravity around his from left before twirling him by the foot like playing with nunchucks, swinging him in revolutions, transitioning from over shoulder to shoulder before spinning Eraserhead around his neck in two full cycles, Garou finished his dance with a squatting pose with his mummy resting on his nape horizontally.

Either Garou was showing off, or he was tormenting Eraserhead with his display of skill. Regardless, they gave Eraserhead their sympathies. They can imagine the amount of motion sickness he suffered through the bandages without need for sight.

Even Eraserhead's retching gags reached their ears through the sound-dampening combat-cloth.

"...huh." Staring blankly, Gran Torino expected something like to happen, but not at the scale of Garou using living heroes as human weapons.

In fact, in all his years, he had never seen any hero used to this extent. None of the hero schools had a solution to when the villain used the hostage as their mocking weapon.

"You ready to die?"

---------

The SWAT, or the 'villain pickup' crew as most would dub them, watched as the Hero Hunter decimated the heroes one by one with his Eraserhead weapon.

They stood there helpless even when Garou bashed Edgeshot's jaw with a mighty swing of his Eraserhead weapon.

The more they watched Garou decimate the heroes, the more the carnage wrung their hearts of hope.

They wish to join the battle and save the heroes. But what could small ants do to a giant?

Reality was a cruel mistress, crushing ideals under its heel without remorse - leaving only plausible option was to stand far away in the sidelines spectate the carnage as part of the lifeless environment.

As unnoticeable and insignificant like the pebbles at their feet.

Plausible option.

As if pulled by desperation and instinct, one SWAT member lifted his foot - and took his first step.

"H-hey."

Another noticed his stepping forth, next to the police's LAV.

"What are you doing? Are you trying to kill yourself?! Woof!"

Kenji Tsuragamae whispered in a quiet shout, demanding the man to step back.

They were to help the heroes capture Garou, not endanger themselves to the growing pile of victims. If heroes cannot defeat the man, then the Police Force would fare no better.

However, in response, the man looked back without a word.

"..."

He looked at the others behind him. His gaze was silent behind the visor, but they could feel his wordless message - why he was rushing into the vortex.

"I'm sorry."

The man spoke as if he was delivering a farewell before marching towards death's door.

The man returned his focus to Garou, who was holding Death Arms by the throat and rushed towards the objective.

The grocery bags.

It would've been comical should it be another circumstance, but they are the key to resolving this disaster. The man did not know how he can resolve their dilemma should they manage to succeed somehow, but at least he would secure a checkpoint for the heroes' second wind.

The man rushing towards the items has this thought. What happened afterward, he would leave it to God to decide.

"You…!" Kenjiro stopped himself upon noticing another officer joining the first.

"I'm sorry! Dock my pay when I get back!" The other apologized in return before another followed.

Before Kenjiro could follow with a threat, more of the men rushed past him, joining that man into the fray.

Kenjiro's men started following them one by one.

No sane mind would rush into a tornado that promised absolute death, but no follower of justice would allow evil to triumph so openly, especially like this, and stand without action.

The brave souls charged forth without a word, containing their steps the best they could. They were afraid that they would catch the monster's attention if they made too much noise.

The brave souls look like lumbering trees trying to be as silent as mice. They were lucky enough that Garou was too angry to notice them, for all of his attention was poured into venting all of his frustrations into their suffering.

Their hearts pounded like war drums in their chests with volumes high enough to drown the heroes' cries of pain from their ears.

They ignored everything but the item of importance, and only the crucial miscellanea Garou tried desperately to protect, all in a sliver of hope that they, the common masses, can make a difference.

That was all they wanted - to make a difference where even their champions cannot. They must.

For if no one comes to save the day, who will?