What if Deku Had Explosion powers like Bakugo But unlike Bakugo

 

The bus shook with the violent rattling of a vehicle that had seen too many trips up the winding mountain roads. Outside the window, the cherry blossoms of spring were blooming, painting the world in a soft, infuriating pink. It was the color of romance, of new beginnings, of high school youth.

To Izuku Midoriya, it looked like vomit.

He sat in the very back row, the seat that offered the most strategic view of the entire vehicle. He wore a dark, oversized hoodie that seemed to swallow his frame, the hood pulled up over a mop of unruly green hair that looked less like hair and more like a blast zone. Over his ears were heavy-duty, noise-canceling headphones, blasting a mixture of heavy metal and the Doom Eternal soundtrack loud enough to drown out the chatter of the other students.

He wasn't sleeping. His eyes, emerald green and dull, scanned the interior of the bus. He was counting exits. He was assessing threats. He was analyzing the structural integrity of the handrails.

It wasn't paranoia. It was habit.

His hands were occupied with a handheld gaming console, a high-end device he’d modified himself. On the screen, the Monkey King from Black Myth: Wukong was engaging in a rhythmic dance of violence against a mountain deity. Izuku’s thumbs moved with a speed that blurred to the naked eye, inputting commands with a precision that was less human and more machine.

Parry. Dodge. Heavy strike. Heal.

The game was his anchor. The digital world had rules. If you got hit, it was your fault. If you got angry, you focused, you adapted, you won. The real world wasn’t like that. The real world was messy, loud, and filled with people who thought they were the main characters of the universe.

Izuku hated main characters. He hated egos.

"Hey! Look at the size of that thing!"

The shout cut through the quieter parts of his track. Izuku didn't look up, but his enhanced hearing—a byproduct of his physiology—picked up the conversation from six rows ahead.

Two boys were gawking out the window as the bus crested the hill, revealing the sprawling campus of Tenbi Academy.

"That's the ultimate paradise, Takeru!" one boy with glasses yelled. "The school where girls outnumber guys ten to one! It’s heaven!"

"I can't believe I got in," the other boy, Takeru, replied, his voice cracking with puberty and desperation. "Do you think... do you think I'll get a girlfriend?"

"With the Maken? Maybe! We’re going to be legends!"

Izuku’s eye twitched. The combo on his screen faltered for a microsecond. Legends. Egotistical garbage.

Tenbi Academy. A school for the magically gifted, those who could wield "Maken"—mystical weapons born from the user's spirit or ancient artifacts. Izuku didn't have a Maken. He didn't have magic. He didn't have "Spirit Power" in the traditional sense.

He had rage.

He had been transferred here not because of his academic prowess, but because his previous school in a different reality—a place of heroes and villains—couldn't contain him. He was a "Hazard Class" student. His file read: Boundless Physical Parameters. Unstable Temperament. Do Not Provoke.

The bus screeched to a halt at the massive iron gates. The students poured out, a stampede of hormones and excitement. Izuku waited. He waited until the last person stepped off, then he saved his game, pocketed the console, and stood up.

As he walked down the aisle, the floor of the bus groaned under his weight. He wasn't fat; he was dense. His muscle fibers were woven tighter than steel cables, his bones reinforced by a reactive adaptation quirk that had spiraled out of control. To the world, he looked like a fit teenager. To physics, he was a walking tank.

He stepped off the bus, the sunlight hitting his face. He squinted, sniffing the air. He could smell them. Not just the cherry blossoms. He smelled ozone. He smelled sweat. He smelled the metallic tang of summoned weapons.

"Great," he muttered, his voice a low rasp that sounded like gravel grinding together. "Magic high school. Just what I needed. More people with god complexes."

The entrance ceremony was an exercise in torture.

The Headmaster, a man named Minaya, gave a speech about "Spirit" and "Youth" and "Unleashing your potential." Izuku stood in the back, leaning against a pillar, his arms crossed. He had put his headphones around his neck, a compromise to appear semi-respectful, though the Doom music was still faintly audible to him.

He felt eyes on him.

Izuku shifted his gaze. Standing near the front of the assembly was a girl with long, blonde hair tied in twin tails. She stood with a posture that screamed superiority. Kodama Himegami. He’d read the dossier. President of the Student Council. The "Queen" of the school.

She was glaring at him. Or rather, she was glaring at his lack of uniform compliance. He hadn't buttoned the blazer. He wore sneakers instead of dress shoes.

Izuku met her gaze. He didn't blink. He didn't blush. He looked at her with the same disinterest he showed a low-level mob in an RPG. You are an NPC, his eyes said. Do not aggro me.

Kodama frowned, seemingly offended that her glare hadn't caused him to wither. She whispered something to the girl next to her, a busty brunette with a ponytail.

Izuku looked away. He didn't care. He just wanted to find his dorm, unpack his PC, and see if the dormitory wifi had acceptable ping for Fortnite.

"Hey, you!"

A hand landed on Izuku’s shoulder.

Bad move.

Izuku’s body reacted before his mind did. His reactive adaptation kicked in. His shoulder muscles hardened instantly to the density of diamond.

"Ow!"

Izuku turned slowly. It was the boy from the bus. Takeru Oyama. He was nursing his hand, looking confused.

" man, your shoulder is like a rock," Takeru laughed nervously, trying to diffuse the sudden tension. "I'm Takeru. We're in the same class, 1-B. I saw you on the bus. You looked lonely, so I thought I'd say hi."

Izuku stared at him. Takeru was a generic protagonist type. Loud. Perverted (Izuku could smell the faint scent of arousal whenever a girl walked by). Desperate for approval.

"Don't touch me," Izuku said.

Takeru blinked. "Whoa, calm down. Just trying to make friends. We gotta stick together, right? Us guys are the minority here!"

"I'm not here to make friends," Izuku said, turning his back. "And I'm definitely not here to join your harem anime delusions. Leave me alone."

"Harem anime?" Takeru scratched his head. "What's that supposed to mean? Hey, wait up! What's your name?"

Izuku didn't answer. He walked away, his stride long and heavy. Every step he took left a depression in the dirt path that was a millimeter deeper than it should have been.

High above the courtyard, in the opulent office of the Student Council, two figures watched the monitor.

The room was dimly lit, contrasting with the bright exterior. Sitting in a high-backed leather chair was a young woman with crimson hair that flowed like spilled blood. Her eyes were a piercing blue-green, carrying an ancient weight. Rias Gremory. A devil of the Gremory House, currently attending Tenbi as part of an inter-dimensional exchange program regarding "Magic and Sacred Gears."

Standing by the window, sipping tea, was a girl with long black hair tied in a ponytail, wearing the standard uniform but exuding an aura of sadism and elegance. Akeno Himejima.

"That's him?" Akeno asked, her voice like silk wrapping around a knife. "The transfer?"

Rias nodded, her eyes fixed on the screen showing Izuku walking away from Takeru. "Izuku Midoriya. The files are... disturbing. No mana. No demonic energy. No spirit power."

"A normal human?" Akeno giggled. "Ara ara, how boring."

"No," Rias narrowed her eyes. "Look at the heat signature."

She tapped a key. The monitor switched to a thermal view.

Most students glowed with the warm orange of body heat, flaring brighter where they stored their Spirit Energy. Takeru, for instance, had a flicker in his chest.

Izuku was different.

He was a solid block of white-hot intensity. But it wasn't radiating out. It was contained. It was a pressurized vessel. His entire body was a reactor core running at critical mass, held together only by skin and willpower.

"He's running at a body temperature of 104 degrees Fahrenheit continuously," Rias murmured. "His heart rate is resting at 40 beats per minute, but the stroke volume suggests his heart is pumping sludge, not blood. And look at the density."

"He's heavy," Akeno noted.

"He is a bomb, Akeno," Rias said, leaning back. "A biological weapon of mass destruction compressed into the shape of a teenager. If he detonates..."

"Do we recruit him?" Akeno asked, licking her lips.

"We watch him," Rias decided. "He has trust issues. I can sense the emotional walls from here. They are thicker than the barriers protecting the Underworld. If we push him, he won't break. He'll explode."

Izuku’s dorm room was small, but it was single occupancy. That was the one condition he had demanded.

He spent the first hour scanning the room for bugs. He found one under the desk—probably put there by the curious Headmaster or the perverted vice-principal. He crushed it between his thumb and forefinger, turning the electronic device into dust.

He set up his station. A gaming laptop with military-grade cooling, his console dock, and a collection of controllers. He organized his games alphabetically. Cuphead. Elden Ring. Fortnite. God of War.

He sat on the edge of the bed and exhaled. The tension in his chest, a constant, burning tightness, loosened slightly.

He was safe here. No villains trying to monologue. No heroes trying to tell him to smile. Just him and the digital void.

He picked up his handheld again. He was stuck on a boss in Black Myth: Wukong. A tiger demon that required perfect timing.

Click. Click. Tap.

His focus narrowed. The world outside the room faded.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Izuku froze. A vein bulged on his forehead. He ignored it.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

"Hey! Transfer student! We know you're in there!"

It was a male voice. Crude. Arrogant.

Izuku paused the game. He carefully placed the console on his pillow. He stood up, his joints popping with the sound of gunshots. He walked to the door and opened it.

Three older students stood there. They wore the uniforms of the Kenpou Club—the martial arts club. They were big, muscular, and looked like they enjoyed stepping on ants. The leader, a guy with a buzzcut and a scar on his chin, sneered.

"So you're the special case," Buzzcut said, stepping into the room without invitation. "Midoriya, right? Heard you don't use a Maken. Heard you think you're too good for us."

"Get out," Izuku said. His voice was low, vibrating in the floorboards.

"Ooh, scary," the second guy laughed. "Look at this trash. Toys?" He gestured to the gaming setup. "You come to a warrior academy to play with toys?"

"I said get out."

Buzzcut shoved Izuku in the chest.

It was like shoving a mountain. Izuku didn't move a millimeter. Buzzcut stumbled back, his wrist jarring from the impact against Izuku's chest.

"What the hell is your body made of?" Buzzcut snarled, his ego bruised. "You think just because you're sturdy you can look down on us? We're third years! We have rank!"

"I don't care about your rank," Izuku said, his eyes darkening. "I don't care about your club. You are interrupting my peace. That makes you bad people."

"Bad people?" The third guy, a lanky spear-user, scoffed. "We're the elites of Tenbi! We teach the weaklings their place!"

He reached out and grabbed the handheld console from the bed.

Time seemed to slow down for Izuku.

"Put it down," Izuku said. The air in the room suddenly grew hot. The temperature spiked by ten degrees in a second.

"Or what?" Lanky sneered. "You gonna cry to your mommy? Oops."

He let go.

Gravity took over. The console fell. It hit the hardwood floor.

CRACK.

The screen shattered. The plastic casing splintered.

Silence.

Absolute, suffocating silence descended on the hallway.

The birds outside stopped singing. The wind stopped blowing.

Izuku looked at the broken console. It was a limited edition. He had spent months modding it. It contained his 100% save file for Hollow Knight.

He looked up.

His eyes were no longer dull green. They were glowing. A bright, toxic neon green that illuminated the dark hallway. His pupils had contracted into tiny, predatory slits.

Inside his chest, something ticked.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

"You..." Izuku whispered. But it wasn't a human voice anymore. It was distorted, layered with a mechanical flanging effect, like a speaker being pushed past its limit. "You shouldn't have done that."

Buzzcut took a step back. Sweat suddenly beaded on his forehead. His instincts, honed by years of martial arts, were screaming at him. RUN. PREDATOR. DEATH.

"W-What the hell is that pressure?" Buzzcut stammered. "Summon your Makens! He's a monster!"

The three bullies summoned their weapons. Buzzcut held a giant hammer. Lanky held a spear. The third summoned brass knuckles charged with lightning.

"Teach him a lesson!" Buzzcut yelled, swinging the hammer with enough force to crush a car.

Izuku didn't dodge.

He raised his left hand.

BOOM.

The hammer struck Izuku's open palm. The impact created a shockwave that blew the windows out of the dorm room. Glass rained down onto the courtyard below.

Izuku’s hand hadn't moved. He had caught a magical hammer weighing two tons with the casual effort of catching a tennis ball.

"My turn," Izuku distorted.

His hand clamped around the hammer head. Metal groaned, then shrieked. With a sickening crunch, Izuku’s fingers sank into the enchanted steel. He crushed the hammer head into a ball of scrap metal with one squeeze.

Buzzcut’s eyes bulged. "I-Impossible... that's Orichalcum alloy..."

Izuku moved.

It wasn't movement. It was displacement. One moment he was standing there, the next, he was in front of Buzzcut. Boundless Speed.

Izuku didn't punch him. He simply flicked his finger against Buzzcut’s forehead.

CRAAAACK.

The sound was like a whip cracking the sound barrier. Buzzcut was launched backward. He tore through the dorm room wall, flew across the hallway, smashed through the opposite wall, and sailed out into the open air of the courtyard.

The other two bullies stood frozen, their brains unable to process the violence they had just witnessed.

Izuku turned to Lanky, the one who dropped the console.

Lanky dropped his spear. He fell to his knees. "I... I didn't mean..."

Izuku grabbed him by the collar of his uniform. He lifted him one-handed, feet dangling a foot off the ground.

The rage in Izuku was a physical substance. It pumped through his veins, empowering him. Unlike Bakugo, who needed sweat, Izuku needed only hatred. And right now, he hated these bullies with the fury of a thousand dying suns.

His skin began to smoke. Orange and black sparks crackled around his face.

"You break my game," Izuku growled, his face inches from the terrified student. "I break your bones. Equal exchange."

He threw him.

He didn't throw him out the window. He threw him through the floor. Lanky smashed through the floorboards, crashing into the room below (fortunately empty), and continued through that floor, burying himself in the foundation of the building.

The third bully, Brass Knuckles, shrieked and tried to run.

Izuku appeared in front of the door.

"Where are you going?" Izuku asked, tilting his head. The mechanical whirring sound of his "Ballistic" physiology was getting louder. Like a bomb counting down to zero.

"P-Please! I'm sorry!"

"Sorry doesn't fix the screen," Izuku said. He pulled back his fist. It glowed with a blinding, apocalyptic light.

He didn't hit the boy. He hit the air beside the boy's head.

EXPLOSION.

The air pressure wave detonated. The entire side of the dormitory building was blown away. The wall vanished, turned to dust. The bully was sent tumbling out onto the grass lawn three stories below, unconscious from the sheer shockwave.

Izuku stood on the edge of the ruined room, the evening wind whipping his hoodie. He looked down at the courtyard.

Students were screaming. Teachers were running toward the scene. Takeru was down there, jaw dropped, looking up at the smoking ruin of the dorm.

In the distance, Rias and Akeno had stepped out onto a balcony. They were staring.

Izuku didn't care about the audience. He didn't care about the damage.

He walked back into the remains of his room. He picked up the broken pieces of his console. He looked at the shattered circuit board.

A single tear of pure, unadulterated frustration leaked from his glowing green eye. It evaporated instantly against his superheated skin.

"I hadn't even reached the save point," he whispered.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

Kodama Himegami arrived at the scene first. She used her telekinesis to lower herself to the exposed floor where Izuku was standing. She was furious. Her school was damaged. Her authority was being challenged.

"You!" She pointed a finger at him. "Transfer student! You destroyed the dormitory! You assaulted three upperclassmen!"

Izuku turned slowly. The glow in his eyes was fading, but the smoke was still rising from his shoulders. He looked at the blonde girl. He analyzed her. Egotistical. Loud. Bully vibes.

"They started it," Izuku said flatly.

"They started it? That's your excuse?" Kodama scoffed, stepping closer. "You act like a child! Look at this destruction! You are a menace! I should have you expelled immediately!"

She reached out to grab his arm. "Come with me to the principal's office. And don't think about resisting. I am the strongest Maken user in—"

Izuku slapped her hand away.

It wasn't a gentle slap. It was a sharp, stinging rejection.

"Don't touch me," he repeated.

Kodama gasped. She looked at her hand, which was reddening. No one had ever defied her like that. "You... you hit a girl?"

"I hit a person who was annoying me," Izuku corrected. "I believe in gender equality. If you act like a villain, you get treated like a villain. Man, woman, or alien."

Kodama’s face turned red with anger. "You insolent commoner! I'll teach you some manners!"

She summoned her Maken—a massive sword that appeared from thin air. She swung it at him, intending to stop the blade just before it hit his neck, to scare him.

Izuku didn't flinch. He didn't even blink.

As the blade rushed toward his neck, he raised two fingers.

CLANG.

He caught the blade. Two fingers. Pinched against the steel.

The force of her swing, enough to cut through a tank, was halted instantly. The shockwave of the stop blew Kodama’s hair back.

"W-What?" Kodama stammered. She pulled, but the sword wouldn't move. It was rooted in place.

"Your form is sloppy," Izuku critiqued, his voice returning to its normal, bored rasp. "You rely too much on the weapon's magic. You have no physical discipline."

He flicked his wrist. The massive sword shattered. Not the handle, but the magical blade itself cracked and dissolved into particles of light.

Kodama fell backward, sitting hard on the debris-strewn floor. She stared up at him, her eyes wide with fear and confusion.

"Who... what are you?" she whispered.

Izuku stepped over her. He grabbed his duffel bag, which had miraculously survived the explosion.

"I'm just a guy who wants to play video games in peace," Izuku said. "And this school has terrible internet."

He walked to the edge of the ruined floor and jumped.

He landed in the courtyard with a heavy thud that shook the ground, dusting himself off.

The crowd of students parted like the Red Sea. No one wanted to be near him. They looked at him with fear.

Except for a few.

From the shadows of the training hall, a woman with long purple hair and a traditional warrior’s outfit watched him with a grin that threatened to split her face. Momoyo Kawakami from the Majikoi universe.

"Oh?" Momoyo chuckled, cracking her knuckles. "He caught Himegami's sword with two fingers? And he has that look in his eyes... the look of a beast who holds back." She shivered with excitement. "I think I'm in love. I need to fight him."

Nearby, hiding behind a tree, a girl with animal ears and a tail—Tamaki Kotatsu from Fire Force—was shaking. "So scary! He's like a demon!"

"He's hot," Maki Oze countered, flexing her own muscles subconsciously. "Did you see that lat spread when he threw that guy? His deltoids are impeccable."

Izuku ignored them all. He walked toward the exit of the dorms. He needed to find a repair shop. Or a new store.

As he walked, a figure blocked his path.

It was Rias Gremory. She stood there, regal and calm, flanked by Akeno.

"Midoriya-kun," Rias said, her voice smooth. "You seem to be in a bind."

Izuku stopped. He looked at the red-haired devil. He smelled sulfur and ancient magic. "Move."

"You have nowhere to sleep," Rias pointed out, gesturing to the hole in the building. "And you have likely violated a dozen school rules just now. You need an advocate. Someone to smooth things over."

"I don't need help," Izuku grunted.

"Everyone needs help," Akeno added, stepping closer, her smile predatory. "Especially a bad boy who destroys school property. We can offer you a place to stay. The Occult Research Club has... amenities. Including high-speed fiber optic internet."

Izuku paused.

He looked at Akeno. He looked at Rias.

"Fiber optic?" he asked.

"10 Gigabits up and down," Rias lied smoothly (she would have it installed by morning). "And a 75-inch 8K screen."

Izuku weighed his options. On one hand, these girls were clearly schemers. Devils. He didn't trust them. They wanted something.

On the other hand... lag was the enemy.

"Fine," Izuku said. "But if you disturb me while I'm gaming, I will blow up your clubhouse too."

Rias smiled. It was a victory. "Deal."

Izuku adjusted his headphones, putting Doom Eternal back on. He walked past them, signaling them to follow.

As he walked away, the adrenaline faded, and the exhaustion of the dimension transfer hit him. But beneath the exhaustion, the anger still simmered. The Bomb had been planted at Tenbi Academy. The timer was ticking.

And Izuku Midoriya was just waiting for the next person to press his buttons.

The morning sun filtered through the high gothic windows of the Occult Research Club (ORC) building, casting long, elegant shadows across the polished wooden floor. The room smelled of expensive tea leaves, old parchment, and the faint, sweet scent of sulfur that clung to high-ranking devils. It was a sanctuary of peace, power, and aristocracy.

Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Currently, the serenity was being violently assaulted by the furious clicking of a mechanical keyboard and the rhythmic, aggressive tapping of mouse buttons.

"Die. Die. Heal. Dodge. Frame trap. Gotcha."

Izuku Midoriya sat in the corner of the room. He had pushed an antique mahogany desk against the wall, and atop it sat a monstrosity of a gaming rig that Rias Gremory had procured overnight. The tower hummed with the sound of military-grade cooling fans, struggling to dissipate the heat not just from the GPU, but from Izuku himself.

He was shirtless. His back was a landscape of scarring and muscle, dense fibers that looked like steel cables woven under skin that radiated a constant, low-level fever. Steam curled off his shoulders, vanishing into the air conditioning vents.

"Ara ara," a voice purred from the doorway. "You're up early, Midoriya-kun. And you're already so... hot."

Izuku didn't turn around. His eyes, currently a dull, tired green, were locked onto the 8K monitor Rias had bribed him with. On the screen, a competitive match of Overwatch 2 was in overtime.

"Don't start with the puns," Izuku grunted, his fingers flying across the keys. "And don't stand in front of the router. You're blocking the signal."

Akeno Himejima giggled, walking into the room with a tray of tea. She was wearing her standard Kuoh Academy uniform, which seemed a size too small in all the right places. She placed the tray on the edge of his desk, leaning over just enough to be provocative.

"Rias-buchou went to a lot of trouble to set this up for you," Akeno said, tracing a finger along the edge of his mousepad. "The least you could do is wear a shirt. Or... invite us to play?"

"You'd throw the match," Izuku muttered. "I checked your stats. You play support but you focus on DPS. You're a battle Mercy. Toxic."

Akeno blinked. She had no idea what he was talking about, but she found his dismissal fascinating. Most boys at Tenbi Academy—hell, most devils—would be groveling at her feet. Izuku treated her like an NPC with bad pathfinding AI.

"The Headmaster is looking for you," Akeno said, changing tactics. "Regarding the... remodeling you did to the boys' dormitory yesterday."

"It was self-defense," Izuku said. "And structurally unsound architecture. Not my fault."

"The Student Council isn't seeing it that way," Akeno warned, her tone dropping slightly. "Kodama Himegami is furious. You bruised her ego. That’s harder to heal than a broken bone for a girl like her."

Izuku finally paused. The "Defeat" screen flashed on his monitor—his teammates had failed him. He sighed, a sound that rumbled like a subterranean earthquake. He grabbed the cup of tea, downed it in one gulp despite it being scalding hot, and crushed the porcelain cup in his hand without meaning to.

"Oops," he said flatly, staring at the ceramic dust.

"Boundless strength," Akeno noted, her eyes narrowing. "You have no control, do you?"

"I have control," Izuku stood up, grabbing a fresh hoodie from his duffel bag. "I just don't have patience. There's a difference."

He pulled the hoodie over his head. It was black, with a stylized bomb icon on the back. He grabbed his backpack, shoved a portable console into his pocket, and walked toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Class," Izuku said. "I'm here to be a student, remember? Or a prisoner. Whatever you devils call it."

"Be careful, Midoriya-kun," Akeno called out, her voice echoing in the hallway. "The Student Council runs this school. If you fight them, you fight the system."

Izuku didn't look back. "I've beaten systems before. They usually have a weak point in the coding."

Walking through the corridors of Tenbi Academy was like walking through a minefield of hormones and magic.

The news of the "Dorm Destroyer" had spread. As Izuku walked, the sea of students parted. He could hear their whispers. His enhanced hearing picked up every syllable, every heartbeat, every intake of breath.

"That's him? The guy who nuked the Kenpou club?"

"He looks kind of... plain."

"Are you kidding? Look at his eyes. He looks like he wants to kill everyone."

"I heard he eats gunpowder for breakfast."

Izuku ignored them. He kept his head down, focusing on the path to Class 1-B. He just wanted to get through the day, get his attendance marked, and go back to grinding ranked matches.

He stepped into the classroom.

Silence fell instantly.

The teacher, a nervous man named Mr. Oususu, dropped his chalk.

"Ah... M-Midoriya-kun," the teacher stammered. "You... you decided to come?"

"Am I expelled?" Izuku asked, walking to the empty desk at the back of the room—the protagonist seat, unfortunately.

"N-No! Not at all! Please, sit!"

Izuku sat. The chair groaned in protest under his density.

Sitting two rows ahead of him was Takeru Oyama. The boy turned around, giving Izuku a shaky thumbs-up. "Dude! You're alive! I thought Himegami killed you!"

"She tried," Izuku said, pulling out his Switch. "She missed."

"You can't play games in class!" a shrill voice shouted.

Izuku didn't need to look up to know who it was. The blonde twin-tails. The haughty attitude. Kodama Himegami. She was in his class. Of course she was. The universe loved its tropes.

Kodama marched over to his desk. She slammed her hands down on the wood.

"Midoriya!" she screeched. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you, commoner!"

Izuku paused his game. Animal Crossing. He was fishing. It was peaceful. Or it was, until this banshee arrived.

He looked up. His eyes were deadpan. "You're blocking the light. It's creating a glare on my screen."

"You..." Kodama’s face turned a shade of red that clashed with her ribbon. "You humiliated me yesterday! You broke my Maken! Do you have any idea how much Spirit Power it takes to reconstruct a Prime Maken?"

"Don't know. Don't care," Izuku said. "Maybe if you spent less time yelling and more time training your core strength, your sword wouldn't be so brittle."

The class gasped. You didn't talk to Kodama like that. She was the "Princess" of the Himegami family.

"You think you're tough because you have some freakish brute strength?" Kodama hissed, leaning in close. "You have no technique. No magic. You're just a wild beast. A rabid dog that needs to be put down."

Izuku stared at her. He could smell her perfume—something floral and expensive. He could also smell the ozone of her magic building up. She was charging energy right here in the classroom.

"Are you done?" Izuku asked. "I have a mortgage to pay on my island."

"Meet me in the courtyard at lunch," Kodama declared, standing up straight and flipping her hair. "A duel. Official rules. If I win, you become my servant. You will do whatever I say, and you will apologize to the Student Council on your knees."

"And if I win?" Izuku asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You won't," she scoffed. "But if by some miracle you do, I'll grant you one request. Anything within the school's power."

"Fine," Izuku said, returning to his game. "If I win, you leave me alone. Forever. And you get me a mini-fridge for my room."

"A... mini-fridge?" Kodama blinked, confused by the banality of the request. "Fine! Deal! Prepare yourself, commoner!"

She stormed off back to her seat.

Izuku sighed. He caught a sea bass. At least not another carp, he thought.

The courtyard was packed.

It wasn't just students from Tenbi. Word had spread fast. The "Transfer Student vs. The Student Council President." It was the main event.

Izuku stood in the center of the designated dueling ring. He wore his PE uniform—a simple tracksuit that looked ready to burst at the seams around his arms and thighs. He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking bored.

Opposite him, Kodama Himegami was fully geared up. She wore a combat modification of her uniform, and floating around her were eight Shikigami—paper spirits that glowed with elemental energy.

"This is an official duel!" the referee, a terrified second-year student, announced. "No killing! No permanent maiming! Begin!"

"Prepare to be educated!" Kodama shouted. She waved her hand. "Shikigami Formation: Crimson Lotus Flame!"

Three of the paper spirits transformed into swirling fireballs. They shot toward Izuku like missiles.

Izuku didn't move. He didn't dodge.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

The fireballs impacted his chest. Smoke billowed out, obscuring him from view.

"Hah!" Kodama laughed. "Direct hit! Even a tank would be melted by that heat!"

The smoke cleared.

Izuku was standing there. He brushed a speck of ash off his shoulder. His tracksuit was slightly singed, but his skin? Pristine. Not even a sunburn.

"Is that it?" Izuku asked. "My laptop runs hotter than that when I'm rendering 4K video."

"What?!" Kodama stepped back. "Impossible! Lightning Formation!"

Two more Shikigami struck. Bolts of electricity, thousands of volts, arced through the air and struck Izuku.

He yawned. The electricity crackled over his skin, grounding harmlessly. His reactive adaptation had already altered his skin's conductivity. He was effectively a walking rubber insulator.

"It tingles," Izuku commented. "Like a bad haptic feedback controller."

Kodama was trembling now. Her magic wasn't working. "Why... why won't you fall? Why won't you scream?"

"Because you're weak," Izuku said, taking a step forward.

The crowd went silent.

"You rely on your status," Izuku said, taking another step. "You rely on your family name. You rely on these floating paper toys. You've never been punched in the face, have you?"

"Stay back!" Kodama panicked. She summoned her Maken again—the massive sword. "I am a maiden! You can't hurt me! Chivalry demands you yield!"

She swung the sword. It was a desperate, sloppy strike fueled by fear.

Izuku didn't catch it this time.

He stepped inside her guard. Boundless Speed. He moved faster than her eyes could track.

He was inside the arc of the swing. The sword passed harmlessly over his head.

He stood chest-to-chest with her. He looked down into her terrified eyes.

"Chivalry," Izuku said, his voice low and distorted, the Whitty-esque mechanical growl leaking into his tone. "Is just a way for weak people to feel safe from consequences."

"Y-You wouldn't hit a girl..." Kodama whispered, tears forming in her eyes. "I'm the President... I'm a woman..."

"I believe in gender equality," Izuku said.

He pulled his right fist back.

It wasn't a haymaker. It wasn't a smash. It was a straight right cross. Technically perfect.

"Equal rights," Izuku said.

He threw the punch.

"Equal lefts."

CRACK.

His fist connected with her cheek.

It wasn't a love tap. It was a punch thrown with the weight of a freight train.

Kodama Himegami didn't just fall. She spun. Her body did a full 360-degree rotation in the air before she slammed face-first into the dirt. The impact created a small crater.

Silence.

Absolute, horrifying silence.

The students of Tenbi Academy stared with their mouths open. The boys were pale. The girls were gasping. He had actually done it. He had decked the prettiest, most powerful girl in the school.

Kodama lay on the ground, twitching slightly. She wasn't dead—Izuku had pulled the punch significantly—but she was out cold. Her perfect nose was bleeding. Her cheek was already swelling.

Izuku shook his hand out. "She has a hard head. Probably all the bone density protecting that small brain."

"Y-You..." Takeru, from the sidelines, looked like he was about to faint. "You punched Himegami! You actually punched her!"

"She attacked me with a sword," Izuku said, looking around the stunned crowd. "If a guy attacks me with a sword, I punch him. If a girl attacks me with a sword, I punch her. It's called fairness. Anyone else want to debate philosophy?"

No one moved. The fear pheromones in the air were thick enough to taste.

Then, a slow clapping started.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

From the top of the gymnasium roof, a figure jumped down. She landed in the center of the arena, creating a shockwave that kicked up dust, rivaling Izuku's own entrance.

She was tall, with long, wild purple hair and a warrior's coat draped over her shoulders like a cape. She wasn't wearing a Tenbi uniform. She exuded an aura of pure, unadulterated violence.

Momoyo Kawakami. The "Goddess of War" from the Majikoi universe.

She stood up, grinning like a shark that had just smelled blood.

"Beautiful," Momoyo said, her voice booming. "Absolutely beautiful! I've never seen a man at this school with a spine like that!"

She walked over to Kodama’s unconscious body, poked it with her foot, and laughed. "She was asking for that for years. Good form on the punch, by the way. You rotated your hips well."

Izuku looked at her. He analyzed her instantly. Threat Level: High. Combatant. Battle Junkie.

"Who are you?" Izuku asked.

"Momoyo Kawakami," she introduced herself, stepping into his personal space. She was almost as tall as him. "I'm a third-year. And I'm bored. So bored. Everyone here relies on magic tricks. But you..."

She reached out and squeezed his bicep.

Izuku instinctively hardened the muscle. It felt like she was squeezing a steel beam.

"Oh my," Momoyo flushed slightly, her breath hitching. "That's natural density. No mana enhancement. You're a monster, aren't you?"

"Don't touch the merchandise," Izuku swatted her hand away. "I'm not interested in fighting you."

"Why not?" Momoyo pouted, which looked terrifying on someone with her aura. "I'm strong! I can take a punch! I bet I can take your punch!"

"Because you're loud," Izuku said, turning to walk away. "And you look like the type who doesn't know when to quit. I hate clingy opponents."

"Hah! Clingy? Me?" Momoyo laughed, following him. "I'm persistent! There's a difference! Come on, just one spar! No magic! Just fists! I'll even let you hit me first!"

"No."

"I'll buy you lunch!"

"No."

"I'll buy you that game... what is it... Fortnite skins?"

Izuku paused. He looked back at her. "V-Bucks?"

Momoyo grinned victory. "10,000 V-Bucks. For one spar."

Izuku considered it. 10,000 was a lot. He could buy the Battle Pass and the new crossover skins.

"Fine," Izuku said. "But not now. My cooldown is active. I need a nap."

"Deal!" Momoyo pumped her fist. "I'll hold you to it, Bomber-kun!"

"Don't call me that," Izuku grumbled, resuming his walk.

He didn't make it five steps before the crowd parted again.

This time, the atmosphere was different. It wasn't fear. It wasn't excitement. It was reverence.

A girl was walking through the courtyard. She had long blue hair, a perfect figure, and wore a modified uniform with an armband that read "Student Council President." But not the Tenbi council.

She walked with an air of absolute authority. As if gravity itself bowed to her will.

Medaka Kurokami. From Medaka Box.

She stopped directly in Izuku's path. She stood with her arms crossed, her chest puffed out (which was saying something), looking down at him despite him being taller.

"Izuku Midoriya," she announced. Her voice projected without effort, clear and charismatic. "I saw your display."

Izuku groaned internally. Another one.

"And?" Izuku asked. "Are you here to lecture me too?"

"Lecture? No," Medaka shook her head, her hair swaying mesmerically. "I am here to recruit you."

"Pass," Izuku tried to step around her.

Medaka side-stepped, blocking him. "You are misunderstood. You are labeled a beast, a monster, a hazard. But I see the truth. You are simply overflowing."

She leaned in, her blue eyes scanning him like an X-ray.

"You have too much power," she diagnosed. "It leaks out of you as rage because you have no outlet. You are a 'Minus' existing in a 'Plus' world. Your abnormality causes you pain."

Izuku stiffened. The ticking sound in his chest grew louder. Tick. Tick.

She was analyzing him. She was pitying him.

"I don't need your psychoanalysis," Izuku growled. "I'm not broken."

" everyone is broken in their own way," Medaka declared, spreading her arms wide. "But I can fix you! Join my Student Council! I will teach you how to channel that boundless strength into something productive! We will rehabilitate you! We will make you a hero who smiles!"

Izuku stopped.

A hero who smiles.

The image of All Might flashed in his mind. The smiling mask. The pressure. The fake society.

His eyes glowed neon green. The air pressure around them dropped.

"I don't want to smile," Izuku said, his voice distorting heavily.

He stepped close to Medaka. For the first time, Medaka felt a chill. Not of fear—she didn't know fear—but of warning. Her "The End" ability, which allowed her to copy and master any skill, was screaming at her. Cannot copy. Physiology incompatible. Subject is volatile.

"I don't want to be fixed," Izuku hissed. "I am not a project. I am not a charity case. I am a person who wants to be left alone."

"But being alone is sad!" Medaka insisted, grabbing his hand. "I cannot allow a student to wallow in solitude! It is my duty to make you happy!"

Izuku looked at her hand on his. Then he looked at her face.

He realized something. She wasn't malicious. She wasn't a bully. She was genuinely, 100% convinced she was helping.

She was an Egotist of the highest order. The "Good" Egotist. The kind who forces their help on you whether you want it or not.

In some ways, that was worse than Kodama.

Izuku ripped his hand away.

"You want to make me happy?" Izuku asked.

"Yes! Anything!" Medaka beamed.

"Then get out of my way."

Medaka blinked. She stood frozen. No one had ever rejected her help so bluntly. Usually, they fought her, she beat them, and they joined her. But Izuku wasn't fighting. He was dismissing.

"I..." Medaka faltered. "But..."

Izuku didn't wait. He activated his Boundless Speed.

WHOOSH.

He vanished. A gust of wind blew Medaka's hair back.

He was gone.

Medaka stood there, staring at the empty space. Momoyo walked up behind her, whistling.

"Rejected by the Beast," Momoyo laughed. "That's a first for you, Miss Perfect."

"He... he runs fast," Medaka murmured, a blush of frustration—or was it excitement?—coloring her cheeks. "He is... difficult. I like it."

"Get in line," Momoyo cracked her knuckles. "I saw him first."

Izuku sat on the roof of the library. It was the highest point on campus, aside from the clock tower.

He had his legs dangling over the edge. The wind was cool up here.

He pulled out his portable console. The screen was cracked from the previous day, but it still worked. He loaded up Cuphead.

He needed something difficult. Something punishing. Something that required 100% focus so he didn't have to think about the harem of lunatics forming around him.

"Equal rights," he muttered to himself, selecting a boss level.

He thought about Kodama’s face when he punched her. He didn't feel joy. He didn't feel pride. He just felt... relief. Like popping a blister.

"Next time," Izuku whispered, tapping the buttons furiously. "I'm aiming for the jaw."

Below him, the school buzzed with activity. The rumor mill was churning. The factions were moving. The Fire Force girls were debating his fire resistance. The DxD devils were plotting his recruitment. The Majikoi warriors were planning duels.

But for now, Izuku Midoriya was alone.

And that was the only victory that mattered.

The grandiose combat arena of Tenbi Academy was a technological marvel, a coliseum of steel and reinforced mana-dampening glass designed to contain the destructive outbursts of hormonal teenagers with god-like powers. Today, the arena floor was set to "Volcanic Terrain." The ground was a jagged landscape of obsidian rock and flowing rivulets of holographic (yet painfully hot) magma.

The heat was oppressive. It shimmered in the air, distorting vision and making the sweat stick to the skin of every student in Class 1-B.

Every student, that is, except one.

Izuku Midoriya sat on a jagged outcrop of rock, his back to the class. He was wearing his PE tracksuit, the sleeves pushed up to reveal forearms that looked like they were carved from granite. Steam was rising from his shoulders—not from the environment, but from his own internal reactor.

He held a portable gaming device in his hands. Cuphead. He was stuck on "Grim Matchstick," the dragon boss. The irony of playing a game about a dragon while sitting in a fake volcano was not lost on him, but he didn't care. He just wanted to beat the level.

"Midoriya!"

 The instructor for today wasn't a teacher. It was a guest lecturer from the Tokyo Special Fire Force, brought in to teach "Thermal Resistance and Disaster Management." Lieutenant Takehisa Hinawa adjusted his glasses, his expression stern.

"Put the game away," Hinawa barked. "You're up next."

Izuku didn't look up. "I'm busy. The dragon is in his third phase."

"This is combat training," Hinawa said, his voice flat. "If you don't participate, I'll have to mark you as failing. And failing means remedial classes on weekends."

Izuku’s thumb slipped. The little cup-headed character on the screen took a fireball to the face. GAME OVER.

The air around Izuku suddenly grew heavier. The holographic magma near his feet seemed to bubble more violently, reacting to the sudden spike in his bio-pressure.

"Weekends are for grinding ranked matches," Izuku said, his voice a low, distorted growl. He stood up, shoving the console into his pocket with aggressive force. "Fine. Let's get this over with. Who am I fighting?"

Hinawa checked his clipboard. "Since you have shown... extraordinary durability and a penchant for explosive force, we're testing your limits against specialists. Step forward, Company 8 representatives."

Three girls stepped onto the obsidian field.

The first was Maki Oze. She was muscular, with a physique that commanded respect, her dark hair tied back. She wore the heavy turnout gear of the Fire Force, though she had shed the jacket, revealing a tank top that showed off her impressive deltoids. She looked focused, her eyes scanning Izuku for weaknesses.

The second was Lisa Isaribi. She looked bored, or perhaps just wary, her red hair falling over her face. She stood slightly behind Maki, her magnetic tethers already glowing faintly at her hips.

The third was Tamaki Kotatsu. The girl with the twin-tails and the cat-ear aesthetic. She looked terrified. She had seen what Izuku did to Kodama Himegami. She was trembling, her hands fumbling with the ignition of her powers.

"Three against one?" Izuku asked, cracking his neck. The sound was like a gunshot echoing through the arena. "Hardly seems fair."

"Don't get cocky, pretty boy," Maki said, falling into a impeccable Muay Thai stance. "We take down Infernals—demons made of fire—for a living. You're just a high schooler with anger issues."

"I'm not a high schooler," Izuku corrected, stepping off the rock and landing on the arena floor with a heavy thud. "I'm a raid boss."

"Begin!" Hinawa shouted.

Tamaki moved first. Or rather, she tried to.

"D-Don't underestimate me!" she shrieked. "Nekomata mode!"

Blue flames erupted from her feet and head, forming the shape of two tails and cat ears. It was a powerful display of Third Generation pyrokinetics. She launched herself at Izuku, aiming for a swift, agile strike to confuse him.

"Neko-Fire... Waaaah!"

It happened in slow motion. Tamaki’s foot caught on a slightly raised piece of obsidian. Physics seemed to bend to ensure her humiliation. She tripped.

She didn't just fall. She tumbled through the air in a defying-gravity spiral. Her trajectory shifted inexplicably toward Izuku. Her uniform snagged on a rock, ripping in key places, and she landed face-first right in front of him, her chest pressing against his shins, her posture compromising in the extreme.

"I-I'm sorry!" Tamaki squeaked, her face burning brighter than her flames. "I'm cursed! It's the Lucky Lecher Lure!"

The male students in the observation deck cheered. "Lucky! Look at that angle!"

Izuku looked down.

He didn't blush. His heart rate didn't spike. There was no nosebleed.

His eyes glowed a toxic, neon green. The veins on his forehead bulged.

"You call this fighting?" Izuku asked. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the cheers. It was cold. Absolute zero.

Tamaki looked up, expecting to see a flustered boy. Instead, she saw a monster looking at a cockroach.

"Get up," Izuku ordered.

"H-Huh?"

"I said GET UP!"

Izuku stomped his foot.

He didn't stomp on her. He stomped next to her head.

BOOM.

The impact was like a grenade going off. The obsidian floor shattered. A shockwave of pure kinetic force exploded outward from his boot.

Tamaki was blasted backward. The air pressure ripped her away from him, tumbling her end-over-end until she crashed into Lisa, knocking both of them down. The blue flames on her tails were snuffed out instantly by the displacement of oxygen.

"I hate fanservice," Izuku growled, steam hissing from his mouth. "It's a waste of animation budget. And it's a waste of my time. If you want to strip, go to a club. If you want to fight, throw a punch."

The arena went silent. Even Hinawa raised an eyebrow.

"He... he blew away the fire with just air pressure?" Maki Oze whispered, her eyes widening. "And he didn't even look... interested?"

"He's gay," Lisa groaned, rubbing her head as she stood up. "He has to be."

"No," Maki tightened her gloves. "He's focused. He's a warrior. All right... my turn. Witch of the Flames!"

Maki summoned her fire spirits—Sputter and Flare. Two small, anthropomorphic fireballs floated around her.

"Take this!"

She directed the fireballs at him. They grew in size, turning into roaring cyclones of flame.

Izuku stood his ground. He didn't block. He took the flames head-on.

The fire engulfed him. The temperature inside the vortex reached over a thousand degrees. The students gasped.

"Midoriya!" Takeru yelled from the stands. "He's gonna get cooked!"

Inside the inferno, Izuku stood perfectly still.

System Alert: Extreme Thermal Variance Detected.

Adapting...

Adapting...

Complete.

His skin began to change. It darkened, taking on a metallic, charcoal sheen. His pores sealed. His biological cooling system went into overdrive, turning his blood into a super-coolant.

He inhaled. He breathed in the fire.

Then, he swung his arm. A simple backhand swat.

The fire tornado was torn apart. It dissipated into harmless sparks.

Izuku stood there, his skin smoking, his clothes singed but his body unharmed. He looked at Maki.

"Is that all?" he asked. "My grandmother's spicy curry burns more than that."

Maki grinned. A feral, excited grin. "Okay. You're tough. Magic doesn't work. Good. I prefer hitting things anyway."

She dashed forward. Unlike Tamaki, she didn't trip. She moved with the grace of a trained soldier. She feinted a jab, then spun into a high kick aimed at his temple.

Izuku blocked it with his forearm.

THUD.

The impact shook the ground.

"Heavy," Izuku muttered. "Good technique."

Maki didn't stop. She used the momentum to spin, launching a flurry of knees and elbows. She was faster than Kodama. She was more disciplined than the bullies. She was hitting his pressure points.

Bam. Bam. Bam.

Izuku took the hits. He let her hit him. He was analyzing her rhythm.

"You're strong," Maki panted, landing a solid punch to his gut that would have ruptured a normal person's spleen. It felt like punching a solid wall of rubber and steel. "Why won't you go down?"

"Because you're fighting a tank with a pistol," Izuku said.

He caught her next punch.

His hand wrapped around her fist. His grip was absolute.

Maki tried to pull back. She couldn't.

"You have discipline," Izuku said, looking her in the eye. "I respect that. You're not a bully. You're a soldier."

"Let... go!" Maki gritted her teeth, trying to ignite her fist to burn him.

"But," Izuku continued, his grip tightening just enough to crack her knuckles. "You're annoying me."

He pulled her in. He didn't punch her. He headbutted her.

CRACK.

Forehead to forehead.

Maki’s eyes rolled back in her head. She stumbled backward, dazed, blood trickling from her nose. She wobbled, trying to maintain her stance, but her legs gave out. She fell to one knee.

"Maki!" Lisa screamed.

Lisa lashed out with her magnetic tentacles. They wrapped around Izuku's neck and arms, glowing with intense heat, trying to constrict him.

"Get off him!" Lisa yelled.

Izuku looked at the fiery tentacles wrapped around him. He looked bored.

"Tentacles," Izuku sighed. "Another overused trope."

He flexed.

RIIIIIIP.

He tore the magnetic fire constructs apart with sheer physical strength. He grabbed the severed end of the energy tether and yanked.

Lisa went flying. She shrieked as she was dragged through the air, landing in a heap next to the dazed Maki.

Izuku stood alone in the center of the arena. The heat was intensifying. His anger was rising. Not at them specifically, but at the situation. At being forced to perform like a circus animal.

"Are we done?" Izuku shouted at the observation deck. "Or are you going to throw more waifus at me to beat up? Because my patience has a health bar, and it's in the red."

"Impressive."

The voice didn't come from the observation deck. It came from the entrance tunnel.

Suddenly, the heat in the arena vanished.

The magma on the floor hissed and turned gray. The steam in the air crystallized. Frost began to creep across the obsidian, turning the black rock white.

The temperature plummeted from 120 degrees to freezing in a single heartbeat.

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of high heels echoing on ice.

A woman walked into the arena. She wore a pristine white military uniform, a peaked cap casting a shadow over her eyes, and boots that reached her thighs. She had long, pale blue hair and eyes that looked like frozen oceans.

General Esdeath. The Empire's Strongest. The guest instructor for "Advanced Combat Philosophy."

She walked past the groaning Fire Force girls without even glancing at them. To her, they were the weak who had lost. They were irrelevant.

Her eyes were locked on Izuku.

Izuku shivered. Not from the cold—his body had already adapted to the sudden temperature shift by generating massive internal heat—but from the look she was giving him.

It was the look a starving wolf gives a particularly juicy steak.

"You," Esdeath said, stopping ten feet away from him. "What is your name?"

Izuku narrowed his eyes. "Izuku. Who's asking?"

"Esdeath," she replied, a small, sadistic smile playing on her lips. "I was watching from the shadows. You possess... delightful qualities."

"I possess a headache," Izuku retorted. "Are you the next boss fight? Because you look like a Cryo-user. I hate freeze mechanics. They stun-lock you."

"Stun-lock?" Esdeath tilted her head. "Interesting terminology. But no. I am not here to fight you. Not yet."

She took a step closer. The ice spread from her boots, rushing toward Izuku.

Izuku didn't move. As the ice reached his shoes, it hissed and evaporated. The heat radiating from him was pushing back against her absolute zero. A circle of dry ground remained around him.

Esdeath’s eyes widened. "Oh? You can resist my cold without a Teigu? Without magic? Just raw physical vitality?"

She licked her lips. It was a predatory, hungry gesture.

"I have been looking," Esdeath murmured, stepping right up to the edge of his heat circle. "For a man who is not weak. A man who does not break. A man who can stand equal to me."

"Good luck with that," Izuku said, turning to leave. "I'm going to the nurse's office. I think I broke that cat-girl's dignity."

"Stop."

Esdeath raised her hand. A massive pillar of ice erupted from the ground, blocking Izuku's path.

Izuku stopped. He turned his head slowly. The ticking sound in his chest started again.

Tick. Tick.

"You're blocking my path," Izuku warned.

"I want to test you," Esdeath said, summoning a rapier made of ice. "Just a little taste. Show me that rage. Show me that beast I saw in your eyes."

"I don't perform on command," Izuku said.

"Then I'll force it out of you."

Esdeath lunged. She was faster than Maki. Faster than Kodama. She was a calamity in human form.

Her rapier aimed for his shoulder.

Izuku reacted. Ballistic Mode flickered. His arm moved in a blur.

CLANG.

He punched the tip of the ice rapier.

The ice shattered. But the force of his punch carried through. The shockwave hit Esdeath.

She didn't fly back. She dug her heels into the ice, sliding backward ten meters, carving deep grooves in the floor. She laughed. A maniacal, joyful laugh.

"Yes! Yes!" Esdeath shouted, her cheeks flushing pink. "That power! That raw, unrefined violence! It's magnificent!"

She dissolved the remains of her sword and looked at him with an intensity that made the other students cower.

"Izuku Midoriya," she declared, pointing a gloved finger at him. "I have decided."

"Decided what?" Izuku asked, his fist still smoking.

"You are worthy," Esdeath announced. "You will belong to me. I will break you, I will train you, and then... I will love you."

The entire class: "EHHHHHH?!"

Izuku stared at her. He processed the statement.

Analysis: Yandere archetype. High-level threat. Obsessive. Danger to personal space and gaming time.

"No thanks," Izuku said flatly. "I'm a solo player."

He turned to the ice wall blocking his exit.

"MOVE!"

He punched the wall. The entire glacier shattered into a million sparkling diamonds. He walked through the raining ice shards, hands in his pockets, hoodie up.

Esdeath watched him go, her hand over her heart, her breathing heavy.

"He rejected me..." she whispered. Then, her smile widened, becoming even more terrifying. "He's playing hard to get. The hunt... has begun."

From the sidelines, Maki Oze sat up, holding an ice pack to her head. She watched Izuku leave, then looked at Esdeath’s terrifying expression.

"That guy," Maki muttered, wiping blood from her lip. "He's going to have a rough year."

"He called me pathetic," Tamaki whimpered from the floor, tears in her eyes. "He didn't even look at my cleavage. He just looked at my bad footwork."

"He's a monster," Lisa agreed, rubbing her neck. "But... did you see how he handled the General? He didn't even flinch."

Izuku made it to the locker room before his legs started to shake.

He sat down heavily on the bench. He pulled out a bottle of water and downed it in one go. His skin was burning. The adaptation took a toll on his calories. He was starving.

"Why..." he whispered to the empty room. "Why can't I just be in a slice-of-life anime? Why does it have to be a battle harem?"

He pulled out his phone. He had a notification.

New Friend Request: IceQueen_Genocide

Message: "I know where you sleep."

Izuku stared at the screen. He blocked the number. He threw the phone into his locker.

"I need to play Minecraft," he muttered, putting his head in his hands. "I just need to build a house and farm wheat. No fighting. No girls. Just blocks."

The door to the locker room creaked open.

"Midoriya-kun?"

It was a soft, timid voice.

Izuku didn't look up. "If you're here to challenge me to a duel, take a number. The line starts behind the ice psycho."

"N-No," the voice said.

Izuku looked up. It was Maki Oze. She was still in her tank top, a bandage on her forehead where he had headbutted her. She looked nervous, twisting her hands together.

"I... I wanted to say thank you," she said quietly.

"Thank you?" Izuku raised an eyebrow. "I concussed you."

"Yeah, but..." Maki looked away, blushing slightly. "You didn't treat me like a girl. You didn't go easy on me because I'm a woman. You fought me like a warrior. And... you told me I had good discipline."

She looked at him, her eyes shining with genuine respect.

"Most guys here just stare at my muscles and call me a 'Gorilla Cyclops'," she admitted. "Or they try to protect me. You just... hit me."

Izuku sighed. He leaned back against the locker.

"You have a good right hook," Izuku admitted grumpily. "Work on your ground game. If I had grappled you, it would have been over in two seconds."

Maki beamed. It was a blindingly bright smile that lit up the dingy locker room. "Right! I will! Can... can we spar again? Sometime? No powers? Just martial arts?"

Izuku looked at her. She wasn't an egotist. She wasn't a bully. She was just a martial artist who wanted to get better.

"Maybe," Izuku said, closing his eyes. "If you bring snacks. I'm hypoglycemic after fights."

"Deal!" Maki pumped her fist. "I make great protein bars! I'll bring some tomorrow!"

She ran out of the locker room, looking happier about getting headbutted than anyone had a right to be.

Izuku sat in the silence.

"Great," he groaned. "Now I'm a personal trainer."

He reached for his bag to get his Switch. But as he did, he noticed something.

His bag was moving.

He froze. He slowly unzipped the main compartment.

Inside, curled up on top of his gym clothes, was a small, white creature. Not a cat. Not a dog.

It was a small, plush-sized version of a creature that looked suspiciously like a miniature dragon. It looked up at him with big, red eyes.

"Kyuu?"

Izuku stared at it.

"I am not keeping a pet," Izuku told it sternly.

The dragon burped a tiny puff of fire that singed his spare socks.

Izuku stared at the singed sock. The rage flickered for a second, then died out, replaced by exhaustion.

"You're lucky you're quiet," Izuku whispered. He zipped the bag back up, leaving a gap for air. "Don't touch the save data."

He stood up and walked out of the locker room.

The Bomb had survived the fire. He had survived the ice. But he had a feeling the real explosion was yet to come.

 The artificial forest of Tenbi Academy was a marvel of bio-engineering and spatial expansion magic. From the outside, it looked like a modest grove behind the gymnasium. Once you stepped through the perimeter barrier, however, it expanded into a sprawling, dense woodland covering several square kilometers. The trees were ancient redwoods that blocked out the sun, the undergrowth was thick with ferns and thorns, and the air was humid, smelling of damp earth and pine needles.

It was the perfect setting for the monthly "Survival and Evasion" exercise.

The rules were simple: Students were dropped into the forest in random locations. They had to retrieve three flags from designated "High Threat" zones guarded by autonomous golems and make it to the extraction point. Combat between students was permitted but "discouraged" unless competing for a flag.

Izuku Midoriya sat on a fallen log, roughly three kilometers from the starting point.

He wasn't looking for flags. He wasn't looking for the extraction point. He was looking for a decent LTE signal.

"Come on," he muttered, holding his smartphone up to the canopy. "Two bars. Just give me two bars so I can download the patch."

He was wearing a camouflage variation of his usual hoodie, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tactical pants were reinforced at the knees, and his heavy combat boots dangled lazily off the log.

Around him, the forest was alive with the sounds of distant explosions and magical skirmishes. He ignored them. His hearing, enhanced to a degree that rivaled high-end sonar, filtered out the noise. He categorized the sounds automatically:

   North-East: Fire magic. Probably the Fire Force girls burning down a sector.

   South: Electrical discharge. Takeru screaming. Ignored.

   West: Heavy impacts. Maken usage.

He sighed, lowering his phone. The update for Monster Hunter Now was stalled at 98%.

"This school," Izuku grumbled to a squirrel that was watching him from a branch. "Has the budget for a pocket dimension forest but can't install a decent Wi-Fi repeater tower?"

The squirrel chirped and ran away.

Izuku opened a bag of chips he’d smuggled in. He wasn't participating. His plan was to wait out the timer, let the "protagonists" fight over the flags, and then walk out when the whistle blew. He was actively suppressing his presence. To the magical senses of the other students, he was a void. A non-entity.

But there was one type of sense he couldn't hide from.

Instinct.

High in the canopy, crouched on a branch fifty feet above Izuku, a pair of eyes watched him.

They weren't human eyes. They were predatory, with vertical slits for pupils.

Hitomi Uzaki. Code name: Brutal Ratel. A Therianthrope—a human-animal hybrid with the DNA of a Honey Badger.

She was bored. The students here were soft. They relied on flashy magic, long incantations, and glowing swords. They had no killing intent. They were herbivores pretending to be carnivores.

But this one...

Hitomi sniffed the air.

He smelled different. He smelled like ozone. He smelled like gunpowder that had been soaked in nitroglycerin. Beneath that, there was the scent of blood—not fresh blood, but old, dried blood from a thousand battles.

He was sitting still, eating chips, looking at a phone. He looked defenseless.

Lie, her instincts whispered. That's a trap.

The hair on the back of Hitomi’s neck stood up. In the animal kingdom, bright colors warned predators to stay away. This boy was wearing dark colors, blending in. But his aura... it was screaming "Danger."

Hitomi licked her lips. Her canine teeth elongated. Her nails grew into razor-sharp claws, harder than steel.

"Finally," she whispered, her voice a low growl. "Something that might not break when I bite it."

She didn't announce her presence. She didn't shout a move name. That was for amateurs.

She dropped.

She fell silently, twisting in the air to maximize velocity. Gravity was her weapon. She aimed her claws directly at the back of his neck. A lethal strike for anyone else. A warning tap for someone of her caliber.

Izuku didn't look up. He didn't tense.

Just as her claws were an inch from his spine, Izuku tilted his head to the left.

WHOOSH.

Hitomi’s claws sliced through the air where his neck had been a microsecond before. She landed on the log behind him, her claws digging deep into the rotting wood.

"Missed," Izuku said, still looking at his phone. "99%... come on..."

Hitomi’s eyes widened. He dodged? No, he didn't even look.

"You..." Hitomi hissed. The thrill of the hunt spiked in her veins. "You're not a herbivore."

"And you're loud," Izuku said, finally turning to look at her. He scanned her. Animal ears. Tail. Claws. "Therianthrope? Killing Bites verse? Great. More furries."

"I am a Ratel!" Hitomi roared. "The most fearless animal on Earth!"

She lunged. This time, it wasn't a drop; it was a frontal assault. She was a blur of silver hair and violence. She slashed at his chest, her claws tearing through his hoodie.

SLASH.

Fabric ripped. Skin tore. Three deep gashes opened up across Izuku’s pectoral muscles. Blood sprayed.

"Got you!" Hitomi grinned maniacally. "You bleed! You—"

She stopped.

The blood didn't drip. It sizzled.

As she watched, the gashes on Izuku's chest began to steam. The red liquid retracted. The skin knit itself back together. Muscles reconnected. Cells multiplied at a hyper-accelerated rate.

In less than two seconds, the wound was gone. Not even a scar remained.

Izuku looked down at his torn hoodie. It was his favorite All Might: Golden Age limited print.

The air temperature around the log dropped. The birds in the nearby trees stopped singing.

"You ripped the shirt," Izuku said. His voice was quiet. Too quiet.

"Regeneration?" Hitomi stepped back, her tail twitching with excitement. "You heal instantly? That means... that means I can cut you as much as I want!"

"You ripped... the shirt."

Izuku stood up. He dropped the bag of chips. He dropped the phone (which had finally hit 100%).

"Do you have any idea," Izuku whispered, the sound vibrating in Hitomi’s chest, "how hard it is to find merch from my home dimension?"

"Stop whining and fight me!" Hitomi shrieked. She activated her Killing Bites mode fully. Her aura flared white. She launched herself at his throat, jaws wide open, intending to crush his windpipe.

Izuku didn't dodge this time.

He raised his hand.

CRUNCH.

He caught her by the throat mid-air.

Hitomi gasped, her momentum halting instantly. She hung there, suspended by his grip. She clawed at his arm, her adamantium-grade nails screeching against his skin like they were scraping a chalkboard. She drew blood, but it healed as fast as she cut it.

"You have sharp claws," Izuku noted, his eyes turning a vibrant, glowing green. "But you have no weight."

He slammed her.

He swung his arm down, smashing Hitomi into the forest floor. The impact cratered the earth, sending a shockwave of dirt and leaves flying outward.

BAM.

Hitomi coughed blood, the wind knocked out of her. But she was a Ratel. She didn't feel fear. She felt rage. She kicked up, her legs wrapping around his arm, trying to break the joint.

It was like trying to break a solid steel girder.

Izuku lifted his arm again, lifting her with it.

"Get. Off."

He swung her like a ragdoll. He smashed her into the massive redwood tree next to them.

CRACK.

The tree, five feet thick, splintered. Hitomi went through it. She flew out the other side, tumbling through the undergrowth.

Izuku dusted off his shoulder. "Annoying."

He turned to pick up his phone.

But Hitomi wasn't done. A low, guttural growl emerged from the splintered tree trunk.

"More..." she wheezed, standing up. Her body was bruised, her uniform torn, but her eyes were burning with ecstasy. "More! HURT ME MORE!"

She charged again. She was faster this time, fueled by pain. The "Killing Bites" logic: the sharper the fangs, the stronger the win.

Izuku sighed. "I'm just trying to update my game."

He stepped into her guard. Boundless Speed.

He grabbed her by the tail.

"Bad dog," Izuku grunted.

He spun. Once. Twice. He turned into a centrifuge of human violence. Hitomi was lifted off her feet, spinning so fast her features blurred.

"So long, Gay Bowser," Izuku deadpanned.

He released the tail.

Hitomi became a projectile. She broke the sound barrier, flying through three consecutive trees before crashing into a rock formation fifty meters away.

Dust settled. Izuku inspected his hoodie again. It was ruined.

"Great," he muttered. "Now I have to go to the school store. They only sell those tacky 'I Love Magic' shirts."

"Halt right there!"

The voice was amplified, authoritative, and incredibly irritating.

Izuku closed his eyes. Can't I have five minutes? Just five?

He looked toward the source of the voice.

Descending from the sky were three figures clad in mechanical armor—Variable Suits.

The leader was a blonde woman with drill curls (of course), encased in a red and white floating armored suit with multiple laser cannons hovering around her. Claire Harvey. The President of the Student Council (Hundred Division).

Flanking her were two others. One was a tall, dark-skinned girl with a massive pile-bunker gauntlet (Liddy Steinberg). The other was a girl with glasses and a tactical visor over her eyes (Erika Candle).

They landed in a triangle formation around Izuku, weapons trained on him.

"You are under arrest for excessive use of force and brutalizing a fellow student!" Claire announced, pointing a cannon at him.

Izuku looked at the rock pile where Hitomi was currently pulling herself out of the rubble, laughing maniacally.

"She attacked me," Izuku said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. "She ripped my shirt. I defended myself. It's called self-defense. Look it up."

"We saw the thermal feed!" Liddy shouted, stepping forward. Her mechanical fist revved up with a high-pitched whine. "You grabbed her by the tail and threw her through a forest! She's a girl! You're a monster!"

"She's a Honey Badger hybrid with skin harder than tank armor," Izuku countered, his patience fraying. "If I had thrown a normal person, I would have used 1% power. I used 5% for her. She liked it. Ask her."

"I DID!" Hitomi yelled from the rubble, waving a bloody hand. "DO IT AGAIN!"

Claire ignored Hitomi. She was focused on Izuku. She saw a boy with glowing green eyes, surrounded by destruction, radiating an aura of instability. To her strict, militaristic mind, he was a threat to the order of the academy.

"Silence!" Claire commanded. "Izuku Midoriya. Your file says you are 'Boundless.' That you have no respect for authority. We are the guardians of this school. We cannot allow a loose cannon like you to roam free."

"I'm not roaming," Izuku said, picking up his phone. "I'm sitting. You guys are the ones flying around in knock-off Gundam suits disturbing the peace."

"Knock-off?!" Claire’s eyebrow twitched. "This is a Hundred! The ultimate weapon against the Savage! How dare you insult the Harvey family legacy!"

"Claire-sama," Erika interrupted, adjusting her glasses. Her visor was scanning Izuku rapidly. "Warning. His bio-rhythms are... strange. His heart rate is increasing, but his blood pressure is stabilizing. It's like he's... charging."

"He's just an arrogant thug," Liddy spat. "Let me teach him a lesson, Claire-sama! I'll knock that boredom off his face!"

Liddy didn't wait for an order. She triggered her thrusters.

"Jet Uppercut!"

She rocketed toward Izuku, her massive mechanical fist glowing with kinetic energy. It was a blow designed to punch through the carapace of alien monsters.

Izuku watched her come. He didn't raise his hands.

Bam.

Liddy’s fist connected with Izuku's face.

A shockwave blew the leaves off the surrounding trees. Dust billowed up.

"Direct hit!" Liddy cheered, landing back. "That should knock him out cold."

The dust cleared.

Izuku’s head was turned slightly to the side. There was a red mark on his cheek. Not a bruise. Just a mark, like someone had poked him firmly.

He slowly turned his head back to face them.

His expression hadn't changed. He still looked bored. But now, the boredom was mixed with something else.

Disappointment.

"Was that it?" Izuku asked. "I've had mosquito bites that hit harder."

Liddy’s jaw dropped. "N-No way... full output... even a Savage would have been dented!"

"My turn," Izuku said.

He didn't move his feet. He just flicked his finger.

An air bullet—a Delware Smash at 2%—shot from his finger.

It hit Liddy in the chest plate of her Variable Suit.

CLANG.

The metal caved in. Liddy was launched backward, tumbling end over end until she crashed into Claire, knocking the President out of the air.

"Liddy!" Claire screamed, untangling herself. She looked at Izuku with genuine anger now. "You... you damaged a Hundred suit with a flick of your finger?"

"It's cheap metal," Izuku critiqued. "Should have used Vibranium. Or Adamantium. Or at least high-grade carbon fiber."

"All units! Fire!" Claire ordered. She lost her composure. "Suppression mode! Level 3!"

Claire’s floating cannons opened fire. Beams of high-intensity plasma rained down on Izuku. Erika added her own long-range sniper fire to the mix.

PEW. PEW. PEW. BOOM.

Explosions rocked the clearing. The ground was chewed up. Smoke and fire consumed the area where Izuku stood.

"Did we get him?" Erika asked, checking her scanner. "I can't get a read. The thermal interference is too high."

"Nobody could survive that barrage," Claire huffed, flipping her hair. "He should have surrendered."

From the smoke, a sound emerged.

It wasn't a groan of pain. It wasn't a plea for mercy.

It was a ringtone.

♫ All Might Theme (8-bit Version) ♫

The smoke swirled.

Izuku was standing there. He was holding his phone to his ear.

"Hello?" Izuku said into the phone, ignoring the fact that he was standing in a crater of molten earth. "Yeah, Mom? No, I'm fine. Just some gnats. Yeah, I'm eating my vegetables. No, I haven't made friends. Why? Because the people here are insane. Okay. Love you too. Bye."

He hung up.

He looked at the phone screen.

"Call dropped," Izuku whispered. "Low signal interference from the energy beams."

He put the phone in his pocket.

He looked up at the three girls hovering in the air.

The green glow in his eyes began to shift. It swirled, turning chaotic. The pupils vibrated.

"You interrupted my update," Izuku listed his grievances. "You interrupted my snack. And now..."

He touched his pocket.

"You made me hang up on my mother."

The air pressure in the forest suddenly spiked. Gravity seemed to increase tenfold.

Erika’s scanner exploded. Sparks flew from her visor. "My sensors! Overload! What is this energy?!"

"It's not spirit power," Claire gasped, feeling a weight on her chest that made it hard to breathe. "It's... pure malice."

Izuku took a step forward.

His form seemed to flicker. For a second, his head looked like a bomb with a lit fuse. His body looked glitchy, like a corrupted video file.

"Ballistic Mode: Engagement Protocol... 20%."

The voice wasn't Izuku's anymore. It was the sound of grinding metal and electric guitar distortion.

Izuku hunched over. His muscles expanded, tearing the remains of his hoodie completely off. His skin turned a shade darker, hardening. Orange sparks—like the fuse of a bomb—cracked and popped around his hair.

He looked up.

His eyes were gone. Replaced by swirling white vortexes of pure energy.

"GET. DOWN."

He slammed his hands onto the ground.

It wasn't a smash. It was an eruption.

The earth split. A fissure raced toward the three girls, glowing with volcanic light. A pillar of energy exploded upward, reaching for the sky.

"Shields! MAX POWER!" Claire screamed.

The three girls combined their energy barriers. The blast hit them.

It wasn't heat. It was kinetic force. It was the physical manifestation of "Leave Me Alone."

The barrier shattered instantly.

The three girls were blasted out of the sky. They fell, crashing into the canopy, snapping branches, until they hit the forest floor with a heap of tangled metal and limbs.

They weren't dead. But their suits were offline. Their weapons were bent. Their pride was obliterated.

Silence returned to the forest.

Claire groaned, trying to push herself up. Her HUD was flashing red. CRITICAL FAILURE.

She looked up.

Izuku was standing over them. The glitchy effect faded. His eyes returned to normal, though they were still glowing ominously. The orange sparks died down.

He looked down at the "Queens" of the academy.

"You rely too much on your toys," Izuku said, his voice raspy but human again. "Without those suits, you're just bullies with fancy titles."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He checked the signal.

"Still two bars," he sighed.

He turned his back on them.

"Wait..." Claire whispered, her voice trembling. Fear—genuine, primal fear—clutched her heart. She had faced monsters. She had faced Savages. But this... this was a force of nature. "Where... where are you going?"

"To find a better signal," Izuku said without looking back. "Don't follow me. Next time, I go 50%."

He walked away into the shadows of the trees.

A few minutes later, Hitomi dragged herself out of the rubble. She was limping. Her arm was dislocated (she popped it back in with a sickening crunch). She was covered in dirt and blood.

She looked at the spot where Izuku had vanished.

She looked at the three Hundred girls, who were crying and shivering on the ground.

Hitomi grinned. A wide, bloody, ecstatic grin.

"He's perfect," Hitomi whispered. She licked some blood off her lip. "He beat the machines. He beat the badger. He's the Apex."

She sniffed the air, memorizing his scent.

"I'm going to mate with him," she decided firmly.

"What?" Erika asked, still dazed, adjusting her broken glasses.

"You heard me, tin-can," Hitomi laughed. "That wasn't a fight. That was a courtship dance. And I think I'm in love."

The Aftermath: 20 Minutes Later

Izuku found a clearing near a waterfall. The signal here was three bars.

Download Complete.

He sat down on a rock. He took a deep breath. The rage simmering in his veins slowly cooled. The ticking in his chest slowed down.

He opened Monster Hunter Now.

"Finally," he muttered. "Time to hunt a Rathalos."

He tapped the screen.

Incoming Call: Momoyo Kawakami.

Izuku stared at the screen. He declined the call.

Incoming Message: Rias Gremory.

"Midoriya-kun, we detected a massive energy spike. Did you nuke the forest? P.S. We made cookies."

Izuku ignored it.

Incoming Message: Esdeath.

"I felt that tremor. You're thinking of me, aren't you?"

Izuku blocked the number again.

He put the phone down and put his head in his hands.

"I just want to play," he whispered to the waterfall. "Why is my life a harem anime? I didn't sign the contract."

From the bushes behind him, a small rustle.

Izuku didn't turn around. "If you're another girl with a weapon, I'm going to throw you into the river."

"It's just me," a male voice said.

Izuku looked back. It was Takeru. He looked terrified, holding a white flag.

"I... I brought you a replacement hoodie," Takeru said, holding up a black hoodie. "I saw what happened on the drone feed. I thought... you might be cold."

Izuku looked at Takeru. He looked at the hoodie. It was plain. No logos.

"Thanks," Izuku said, taking it.

"Can I... sit here?" Takeru asked. "It's safe near you. Everyone else is scared to come within a mile of your signal."

"Sit," Izuku grunted, pulling the new hoodie on. "But if you talk about girls, I'm throwing you in the river."

"Deal," Takeru sat down, pulling out his own Switch. "Wanna play Mario Kart?"

Izuku looked at him. A spark of genuine emotion—relief—flickered in his eyes.

"Blue shells only," Izuku said.

"You're on."

For the rest of the afternoon, the forest was peaceful. Well, except for the occasional scream of terror from the distance as Hitomi hunted down other students to vent her frustration.

But in the clearing, the Beast was calm. For now.

It was a Saturday.

For most teenagers, Saturday meant freedom. It meant sleeping in. It meant hanging out with friends.

For Izuku Midoriya, it meant Questing.

Not a video game quest. A real-life quest. A fetch quest.

He stood outside the electronic store in the nearby shopping district, a bustling hub of commerce that catered to both normal humans and the magically inclined. He was wearing his new plain black hoodie (courtesy of Takeru), dark jeans, and his noise-canceling headphones. He had a list.

1.  New HDMI cable (Gold-plated, low latency).

2.  Spare controller (Drift was inevitable with his grip strength).

3.  Pre-order copy of Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree.

He was in a good mood. Or rather, his baseline level of annoyance was at a manageable 15%. The sun was shining. The air smelled of takoyaki. He had successfully avoided Rias Gremory’s attempts to drag him to a "Familiars Forest" picnic. He had blocked Esdeath’s number six times.

He walked into the store. The cool air conditioning hit him. He breathed in the scent of plastic and ozone.

"Sanctuary," he whispered.

He browsed the aisles. He picked up the cable. He tested the weight of a few controllers. He even found a rare amiibo he needed for his collection.

He was at the counter, wallet in hand.

"That will be 15,000 yen," the cashier said, scanning the items.

Izuku reached for his wallet.

"Wait!"

The voice came from the ceiling.

Izuku didn't look up. He handed the cash to the terrified cashier. "Keep the change."

"Target acquired!"

From the ventilation duct above the counter, five figures dropped down.

Smoke bombs exploded. POOF.

Colored smoke—pink, blue, yellow—filled the store. Customers screamed. The cashier ducked under the counter.

Izuku stood there, holding his bag of electronics. He didn't cough. He didn't wave the smoke away. He just sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of a thousand interrupted cutscenes.

"Ninja," Izuku muttered. "Why is it always ninja?"

Through the smoke, five girls emerged. They wore colorful shinobi outfits that were less "stealth" and more "idol group."

The leader, a girl with long black hair and a red scarf (Asuka), pointed a short sword at him.

"Izuku Midoriya!" Asuka announced. "We are the Hanzo Academy Shinobi! We have been hired by the Principal to test your combat capabilities in an urban environment!"

"Hired?" Izuku asked, looking at the smoke clearing around his precious electronics. "Did he pay you to ruin my day?"

"Prepare yourself!" a blonde girl with a large scroll on her back (Katsuragi) shouted. She bounced forward, her assets defying physics. "If we win, you have to let me molest you!"

"What?" Izuku blinked. "Is that legal?"

"Ignore her!" a girl with an eyepatch (Yagyuu) hissed, drawing an umbrella. "Focus on the mission. Hibari, flank him!"

A small, pink-haired girl (Hibari) popped up behind him. She was holding a giant stuffed rabbit. She looked like she was about to cry. "I... I don't want to hurt him! He looks scary!"

"Just hit him with the rabbit!" Yagyuu ordered.

Izuku looked at the bag in his hand. The HDMI cable. The controller. The amiibo.

"Can we do this outside?" Izuku asked. "I have fragile items."

"No mercy for the wicked!" Asuka yelled. "Secret Ninja Art: Earth Crawler!"

She slammed her sword into the ground. A shockwave traveled through the floor tiles, aiming to knock him off balance.

Izuku sighed. He side-stepped.

The shockwave missed him. It hit the display rack of 4K TVs behind him.

CRASH.

Three brand new, 65-inch OLED televisions toppled over. They smashed onto the floor. Glass shattered. Circuit boards sparked.

The store went silent.

Izuku looked at the broken TVs. He looked at the cashier, who was now sobbing.

He looked back at Asuka.

The ticking in his chest started.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

"You..." Izuku’s voice dropped an octave. The air pressure in the store dropped. The smoke swirled around him, turning dark. "You broke the TVs. Do you know what the refresh rate on those was?"

"Uh..." Asuka faltered. "120Hz?"

"144Hz," Izuku corrected. "With G-Sync compatibility."

He put his bag down on the counter gently.

He turned to face them.

His eyes were glowing. The neon green was back, brighter than the store's fluorescent lights.

"Hanzo Academy," Izuku growled. "You just aggroed the wrong boss."

The fight spilled out into the street.

Or rather, the flight spilled out.

Asuka was thrown through the store window. She landed on the hood of a parked car, denting it.

"He's fast!" Asuka yelled, scrambling up. "Faster than Ikaruga!"

Ikaruga, the calm, collected member of the team, drew her katana, Hien. She stepped forward, her expression serious. "I will handle him. His movements are chaotic. I will find the pattern."

She slashed. A vacuum wave of air pressure, sharp enough to cut steel.

Izuku didn't dodge. He punched the air.

BOOM.

His punch collided with the air slash. The shockwave canceled it out. The force of the impact blew the windows out of the shops on both sides of the street.

Ikaruga’s eyes widened. "He parried wind?"

Izuku appeared in front of her. Boundless Speed.

He grabbed her katana by the blade. His hand didn't bleed. It sparked.

"Nice sword," Izuku commented. "But you telegraph your swings. Too much wind-up."

He twisted his wrist.

SNAP.

The legendary blade Hien didn't break, but Ikaruga's grip did. He wrenched the sword from her hand.

He tossed it aside like a piece of trash. It clattered down a storm drain.

"My sword!" Ikaruga gasped, looking at the drain in horror.

"Get a controller," Izuku advised. "Less maintenance."

Katsuragi attacked from the side, aiming a series of kicks. "Take this! Tornado Spin!"

Izuku caught her leg mid-spin. He held her upside down.

"Pervert," Izuku said.

He spun her. He used her as a human flail to knock away Yagyuu, who was trying to summon a squid monster from her umbrella.

THWACK.

Katsuragi collided with Yagyuu. They both went flying into a pile of cardboard boxes in an alleyway.

"Hibari!" Asuka shouted. "Use your secret technique!"

The pink-haired girl was trembling. "B-But..."

"Do it!"

Hibari closed her eyes. "Secret Ninja Art: Rabbit Stomp!"

Her giant stuffed rabbit grew to the size of a truck. It leaped into the air, aiming to crush Izuku.

Izuku looked up at the descending plush toy.

"Cute," Izuku said.

He caught the giant rabbit with one hand. He held it up, stopping its momentum instantly. The ground cracked under his feet from the weight, but his arm didn't bend.

Hibari stared. "He... he caught Nintaro?"

Izuku looked at the rabbit. He squeezed.

POP.

The giant rabbit exploded into a cloud of stuffing and fluff. It rained white cotton all over the street.

Hibari fell to her knees, crying. "Nintaro!"

Izuku stood amidst the falling stuffing. He looked like a demon in a snowstorm.

"You have terrible summons," Izuku critiqued. "Next time, summon a tank."

"Reinforcements!" Asuka screamed into her wrist communicator. "We need the Crimson Squad! Now!"

From the rooftops, five more figures appeared.

Homura and her Crimson Squad. The rivals of Hanzo Academy. They dropped down, weapons drawn.

"You called for help against one guy?" Homura scoffed, igniting her six swords. "Pathetic, Asuka."

She looked at Izuku. She sensed it immediately. The heat. The rage.

"Oh," Homura grinned, her eyes lighting up. "I see. He's strong. He burns brighter than me."

"Ten against one," Izuku noted, cracking his knuckles. "This is a raid battle. Good. I need the XP."

The Crimson Squad charged. Homura led with a fiery slash. Yomi attacked with her giant broadsword. Hikage used her knives. Mirai used her gun-umbrella. Haruka used her chemicals.

Izuku moved.

He didn't use magic. He used Adaptation.

He adapted to Homura’s fire. It felt like a warm breeze.

He adapted to Yomi’s heavy strikes. He caught the broadsword and used it to block Hikage’s knives.

He adapted to Mirai’s bullets. They bounced off his skin.

He adapted to Haruka’s poison gas. He inhaled it and breathed it back out as pure, clean air.

He was a whirlwind of violence. He wasn't killing them—he was dismantling them. He threw them into walls, into lamp posts, into each other.

He was systematic. Efficient. Brutal.

Within five minutes, the street was a disaster zone. The ten shinobi girls were scattered, bruised, and defeated.

Izuku stood in the center of the carnage. He wasn't even out of breath. He adjusted his headphones, which had somehow stayed on his head.

"Is that it?" Izuku asked. "I have a bus to catch."

"Stop!"

A voice rang out.

A girl ran into the street. She had short silver hair and wore an outfit that looked like a mix between a mage and a casual adventurer.

Maya. From My One-Hit Kill Sister.

She stopped between Izuku and the fallen ninjas. She spread her arms wide.

"Don't hurt them anymore!" Maya shouted. She looked at Izuku.

Her eyes widened.

She saw the power. The overwhelming, boundless strength. The aura of a "Cheat Skill" user.

Her brother, Asahi, was weak. But this guy... this guy was the definition of "Overpowered Protagonist."

Her "Bro-Con" instincts flared.

"Onii-sama?" Maya whispered.

Izuku blinked. The rage faded slightly, replaced by confusion. "Who?"

"You must be!" Maya gasped, her cheeks flushing. "That power! That brooding aura! That 'I don't care about anyone but secretly I protect everyone' vibe! You're the ultimate Onii-sama!"

She lunged.

Izuku tried to dodge. But Maya had a unique skill. She was a "Bro-Con Specialist." Her speed when pursuing a brother figure was infinite.

She latched onto his leg.

"Onii-sama! Please! Don't be a villain! Be my big brother! Protect me! Scold me! Buy me ice cream!"

Izuku looked down at the girl clinging to his leg. He tried to shake her off. She held on with the grip strength of a hydraulic press.

"Get off!" Izuku shouted. "I'm not your brother! I'm an only child!"

"That's what a cool brother would say to protect his sister!" Maya squealed, rubbing her cheek against his jeans. "I'll never let go! I'll cook for you! I'll do your laundry! I'll kill anyone who looks at you wrong!"

Izuku looked around. The ninjas were groaning. The shopkeepers were staring. The police sirens were approaching.

And he had a strange girl attached to his leg.

"I hate this world," Izuku groaned.

He tried to walk. He dragged Maya with him. Scrape. Scrape.

"Heavy," Izuku muttered. "What are you made of?"

"Love!" Maya chirped.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over them.

Asuka stood up. She was battered, her uniform torn, but her spirit wasn't broken.

"He... he didn't finish us off," Asuka panted, wiping blood from her lip. She looked at Izuku dragging Maya away.

"He held back," Homura realized, standing up next to her rival. "He could have killed us all in the first ten seconds. He just... pushed us away."

"He's kind," Hibari sniffled, hugging a piece of stuffing. "In a scary way."

"He's a challenge," Katsuragi grinned, despite her bruises. "I want to touch those muscles again."

"He is the ultimate prey," Yagyuu whispered.

The ten ninja girls looked at each other. A silent agreement passed between them.

The mission failed. But the target was acquired.

The Escape

Izuku managed to pry Maya off his leg by bribing her with a promise to buy her a crepe. He left her at a crepe stand and activated his Boundless Speed to vanish before she could finish eating.

He made it back to his dorm room (which had been hastily repaired by the school's magic division).

He locked the door. He barricaded it with a chair. He checked the window for ninjas.

"Safe," he exhaled.

He unpacked his bag.

The HDMI cable: Intact.

The Controller: Intact.

The Amiibo: Box slightly dented.

"No..." Izuku whispered, tracing the dent on the cardboard box. "The mint condition value... dropped by 15%."

His eye twitched.

Knock. Knock.

"Midoriya-kun! I know you're in there!"

It was Maya. How did she find him?

"Onii-sama! I brought you the rest of my crepe! Open up!"

"Go away!" Izuku yelled through the door. "I'm playing Elden Ring!"

"Can I watch? I'll be quiet! I promise!"

"No!"

"Please? I'll wear a maid outfit!"

"NO!"

Izuku put on his headphones. He turned the volume up to max. He started the game.

But even through the noise cancellation, he could feel them.

The presences.

Outside his door. On the roof. In the trees.

The Ninjas were watching.

The Fire Force girls were lurking.

The Devils were plotting.

The Hundred girls were monitoring.

And now, the Little Sister was knocking.

The harem was growing. And the walls were closing in.

Izuku Midoriya stared at the "You Died" screen on his monitor.

"I wish I could respawn in a different genre," he muttered.