The hideout was an abandoned printing press on the outskirts of Hosu. The air was thick with the smell of moldy paper and the metallic tang of dried blood. Just then, the purple-black mist emerged.
Kurogiri's warp gate spiraled open in the center of an empty lot, four figures emerging from the void.
Tomura Shigaraki stepped out, followed by the towering frame of Rappa and a stumbling, swaying Deidoro. Kurogiri remained half-submerged in the portal, his yellow eyes scanning the darkness.
"Where is he?" Shigaraki asked, surveying the warehouse. "You said he'd be waiting here."
"Patience, Tomura," Kurogiri said evenly. "The Hero Killer is many things, but predictable is not among them."
"He's late," Shigaraki muttered, scratching at his neck.
"I'm hating this guy even more by the minute."
"Maybe he decided not to show." Deidoro muttered.
"Still don't see why we need this guy," Rappa grunted. "If the boss wants bodies, I can provide bodies."
"We need more than bodies," Kurogiri replied. "We need .."
SHING.
The sound cut through the night like a razor.
Three throwing knives materialized from the darkness, hurtling toward Shigaraki's throat.
Kurogiri moved instantly. His body exploded into mist, a wall of darkness erupting between the blades and Tomura. The knives vanished into the warp gate, redirected harmlessly into the void.
"ABOVE!" Rappa barked. A figure descended from the rooftop in a blur of red cloth and gleaming steel.
Stain landed in a crouch twenty meters away, blades already drawn. Blood-red eyes burned with feral intensity beneath his tattered bandana.
"Hehe .. guess he is here after all .."
"Quiet you drunk."
"So .. you brought more muscle this time huh?" Stain's eyes narrowed. "It changes nothing but the number of dead."
"We do not wish to do battle Hero Killer." Kurogiri released the wall of mist.
"Yeah. What's your deal? I thought we had an agreement." Shigaraki said with narrowed eyes of his own.
"I agreed to hear you out. They weren't part of the deal." He focused on Deidoro and Rappa. "Bringing more men for a sense of security... Your actions show nothing but your cowardly nature."
"You weren't exactly friendly last time, were you?" Shigaraki scratched even more frequently.
'Dammit. My urge to kill this guy is maddening. Everything he does just pisses me off.'
"The last of my injuries were almost healed ... Then you came along. It's rude to attack your business partners."
Stain snorted.
"We don't have any business yet. So far, my assessment of you hasn't changed. You lack not just conviction and desire, but also anything to offer me."
He drew another knife. "You wanted to talk, now talk. You have thirty seconds,"
Tomura's scratching grew more frequent.
"This again ... You sure talk a lot Hero Killer. Conviction? Maybe I don't have anything as loaded as that."
He raised his head. "But if I had to choose a desire though. It would be killing All Might and destroying the current society."
Stain's attacking movement stopped.
"That garbage pro irritates me so badly. Especially the way people always worship him and the heroes under him like gods when they're anything but. In that case, I'll tear down their gods and destroy them while they're in shock. So yeah, that's my desire .."
Kurogiri's eyes narrowed. This wasn't the plan.
"Tomura .."
"I've heard enough." Stain interrupted. "It seems our goals fundamentally oppose each other .."
Silence followed.
"However, we do agree on one thing. Destroying the present. Regardless of why, this society needs to be purged."
He sheathed his blade.
"It seems I was a bit hasty. Maybe this wasn't completely in vain."
'Huh?'
Tomura was stunned.
"However, if that's all you have to say, we're done here. Leave."
"Tomura Shigaraki .." Kurogiri whispered. Now was their chance.
"Hold on." Shigaraki called out. "Who the hell said this is over? We still haven't gotten to why we're here."
Stain paused.
"Go on."
"Since we agree we have a common goal, then it shouldn't be a problem to work together regardless of our individual motives behind them, right?"
Stain didn't reply.
Tomura frowned. "I'm talking to you. Right?"
"That depends on what the work is."
"Hmph. Something you'll agree with. We want your help going after a new target."
Stain's eyes narrowed. "Who?"
"Endeavor."
"The Number Two Pro?" A wave of pure malice suddenly filled the warehouse.
Shigaraki tilted his head, his chapped lips pulling back into a jagged grin. "See? I knew you'd like the sound of that. Or don't tell me you don't wanna cull that arrogant bastard?"
'Hmph. How predictable.'
The hero killer reacted just as they thought he would.
"You have my ears villain. What are you proposing?"
"We work together. I provide the information and manpower. You set the plan for when and how it goes down. If Endeavor falls, the world's faith in the 'Symbol of Peace' will crack. If the public sees that the Number Two is not enough to protect them, the system begins collapsing. Right now, people only see you as a dangerous criminal. This will have a much better effect than your previous thirty nine victims."
Stain's crimson eyes flicked between Tomura and the trio behind him.
"You expect me to trust a villain like you?"
"No need to be like that now. Trust isn't necessary when there's mutual benefit, is it? Both of us gain from it, so what's the problem?"
Stain's gaze shifted to Kurogiri who seemed far more composed than his supposed master. The mist villain nodded.
He could work with this, maybe, if only to see just what would become of that warped sense of conviction sprouting in this brat.
'I can always take care of him later if he turns out bad. But this is too good a chance to gut the ultimate fake to pass up.'
"And after?"
"Leave. Drop dead. Whatever. Someone as crazy as you will probably become a problem later for the league of villains, so we have no interest in retaining you long term anyway."
"Very well. I can work with that."
"Good enough," Shigaraki muttered. He turned back toward the Warp Gate. "Kurogiri, we're done here. Let the Hero Killer have his fun. We have a stage to set."
As the League began to retreat into the mist, Rappa stayed behind for a moment, his eyes lingering on the alleyway behind the press. "Boss, go ahead. I'm gonna take the long way back. There's something I gotta take care of first."
"Do what you want," Shigaraki waved a dismissive hand. "Just don't get caught. It'd be a pain to replace you."
The Warp Gate collapsed, leaving Rappa alone in the dark with the fading shadow of the Hero Killer.
Rappa watched the spot where the purple mist had evaporated. The air still felt charged with Shigaraki's petty malice and Stain's suffocating pressure.
"Bureaucrats and fanatics," Rappa spat, cracking his neck. "No wonder the old boss couldn't stand 'em."
He reached into the pocket of his heavy coat and pulled out a small, outdated flip-phone. It was a burner—one of the untraceable models the Hassaikai used for internal logistics. It had been dead for weeks, but ten minutes ago, while Shigaraki was posturing, it had vibrated.
A signal. A code word. And a coordinate
Rappa didn't know how anyone had found the number, but based on the coordinates, there was only one person left alive who possessed the sequence to activate that specific encryption.
Rappa flipped the phone open. There was no text, only a set of coordinates and a timestamp: 23:45.
"Hmph. Still obsessed with punctuality," Rappa grunted, crushing the burner phone in his palm until the plastic snapped and the circuitry hissed.
He turned his back on the printing press and began to walk.
[HOSU DISTRICT — ABANDONED CLOCK TOWER]
The meeting point was an old clock tower on the north side of the city. The gears had long since rusted into silence, and the glass face was cracked.
Rappa climbed the stairs, his heavy boots echoing against the stone. He didn't bother being quiet. If this was a trap, he'd punch his way out. If it wasn't... well, he was curious.
He reached the top floor. The bell chamber.
Standing by the massive, motionless gears of the clock was a tall figure. He wore a long, dark trench coat that seemed to swallow the light, and his head was covered by a deep hood. He didn't turn around as Rappa entered. He was staring out at the city, specifically toward the train station where the morning commuters would soon be arriving.
"You're late, Rappa," the figure said. The voice was cold, rhythmic, and carried the unmistakable cadence of a man who measured the world in seconds. "Your discipline has slipped since the Young Head's passing."
Rappa stopped, his massive arms crossing over his chest. A grin, jagged and dangerous, spread across his face.
"I thought the heroes had scrubbed you out of the gutters, Clock-work. Or did you just hide in the cracks until the smell of blood brought you back?"
The figure turned. The moonlight hit the lower half of a mask. Above it, his eyes were hidden in the shadow of the hood.
"Rappa," Kurono said, his voice thin and sharp as a needle. "You were always the most difficult 'Bullet' to keep in a chamber. I see you've found a new cage to inhabit."
"Cage? I'm just looking for a good scrap, and the brat with the hands promised plenty of them," Rappa sneered, slamming his fists together. The shockwave blew a cloud of dust away from his feet. "What about you? Without the boss to tell you when to breathe, you look a little lost."
"The Hassaikai has deep roots,"
"Hah, a fight's what I wanted. Looks like I'll settle for listening. Spill."
Kurono tilted his head, the beak of his mask pointing directly at Rappa's chest.
"Tell me everything that happened that night. From the very beginning."
__
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