Alastor thumbed through the bills Inko had been forced to pay because of the boy's condition, and each one was another itch to just grab the chain leading towards the slime of a man and just break it, causing the soul to shatter all the more appealing. But he couldn't worry about that now, now Inko would have an easier time with money, so she could spend some money on herself. The boys' room had been stripped of everything except the most expensive and memorable. A gold statue of All Might is estimated to be worth 1,568,760.00 yen or 10k in dollars. A poster signed by Sir Nighteye, who was rumored to be looking for that very poster and willing to pay large amounts of money. A figurine of an underground hero named EraserHead. That one had seen some action as the paint on the base was scuffed, and there was dirt in places the boy hadn't been able to clean. Apparently, the hero had saved the boy once from a roof when he had been attempting to jump. So the boy treasured the figure as a last line of defence against the darkness of his mind. There was also a cologne sponsored by an R18 hero named Midnight, which actually smelled very regal. From what Alastor understood the R18 ment she was only supposed to be viewed by people over the age or of the age of 18. And he could understand why, based on the memories of the boy, the lady had bearly any clothing at all, she bearly wore enough to keep the cold off her. The old life before his first death was scandalized by the minimum clothing, but he realized times had changed, but not that much. Women weaponised their looks back then, and they do it now. In the business sense, he respected her for it.
"Il est temps de redonner à Média sa véritable forme. Even if in a modified form." (It's time to bring back the true form of media. French)
Alastor had a plan to help Inko while giving himself a hobby to do other than just collect souls and watch Tom's cage matches. With the rise of television in those infernal crackle boxes, radio had become a place for people to advertise and replay music people had heard dozens of times. So after finding a gold mine of a memory from the boy, an episode of the Radio Hero Present Mic's podcast. Alastor would start his own podcast to be able to gain advertisement to gain money as his podcast grew more popular. He had it planned out; it would take a few months of freelancing until his show got traction, then the people who had been listening from the start would gain a free membership. That way, they would tell people about how generous the owner was and lead to more people joining. By then, he should be able to get offers for ads to be placed in the episodes, and it would snowball from there.
Alastor chuckled at the small shadow minion he had conjured as the boy's analytical mind kicked in, planning possibilities and outcomes. The added intelligence from the boy was a welcome addition to his own.
In a bedroom once filled with All Might worship, now lay a desk with recording equipment and a notepad with everything Alastor wished to talk about, along with his sceduakl. A cup of steaming tea sat next to him to keep his throat from getting dry as he adjusted his collar, not that anybody could see him.
"Welcome! One and All! It is nice to be on the air once again. The weather is frolicking, and the people are beaming. Today we have a forecast of light criminal activity and major relaxation. The sun decided to work overtime today, so the beaches are full and the ACs are earning overtime! Listen here on the RadioWave podcast, where we talk about everything and nothing and interview everybody and nobody. I am your host, Alastor, and I welcome you today. Today is a day for relaxation, so that is our topic today! How to best relax in a world where somebody could throw a twenty-foot sea urchin at your house at any time!"
Radio waves hit the air running. The mysterious host Alastor, who had apparently been on the air before, seemed to just suck listeners in with his enigmatic voice that crackled like he was on the radio. When he said he talked about everything and nothing, he meant it. There were some days Inko would mention a fruit or interesting hero she saw that day, and it would become an hour-long discussion with Alastor. He also interviewed everybody and nobody. He had met up with Tom at a cafe, and he got an interview with him, which also brought all of the "Divine General Big Raga" boxer fans, and that was a spike in popularity. Alastor also interviewed an old lady with a nice flower quirk who had owned a store that had been in Japan since before WW1. His episodes were full of witty jokes, dry humor, but were educational and perfect to press play on and have in the background of whatever you did.
There were also times that Alastor got real during his episodes, when he talked about suicide rates and the causes for them. He had done extensive research and drew from his own experience to reach out to people, telling them they are not alone and all they need to do is speak up, and he would listen. Victims of villain attacks were offered sympathy only if they wished for it, while those who only wanted help were able to join help circles right there in the description of the podcast. And then there were those criminals who were scared to relapse and ruin what they worked so hard for. Alastor would send them a private email; he was never vague about what he thought about the process. He believed that people should learn to stand on their own, but he knew it was hard. So he offered a choice: sell their soul to him so he could become stronger and never tell anybody about this. In exchange, they would never relapse again or fall into bad habits.
It surprised Alastor how many people were so desperate to get out of the criminal life that he found himself receiving hundreds of emails asking how they could be strong. For those who wished to get better on their own, Alastor offered solutions such as hobbies that took extensive time and work so that the person would be idle and at risk of having wandering thoughts that wished to ruin the work the person had put in. But he thought the work was worth the cost; he could feel emotions going to him as he knew that, subconsciously, with the departed soul of the boy of who's body Alastor inhabited, was happy they were helping people.
Now, of course, you can't get much past a mothers since, and it only took a week for Alastor to be discovered by her. And he simply told her the truth; he saw that while not having to pay for the apartment any longer, she was still struggling with the multiple jobs she worked. So he wanted to help, and if nothing, the tearful hug and the pride.
"I am so proud of you, I am so lucky to have you as a son."
That Inko was able to sob out, well, if his next three episodes, he sounded like he was riding cloud nine. Well, nobody had to know. There, of course, was the occasional meme about his weird obsession with jumbalya.
Eight months until the UA entrance exam.
Alastor stood on the pristine sand of a clean beach. He was gazing at his clawed hands that had once been frail, bony fingers of a weak boy. A muscular body replaced a weak frame with red hair that spotted his chest. He was lean but muscular, capable of all of his original feats, but power-wise wise he was on the same level as Vox. Alastor knew he was ready; the beach was clean. Inko was finally accepting the money RadioWave was making. He was still getting stronger, and he still had that hunger to be the strongest, but right now he felt.
Content
It was an almost foreign feeling. He had never been content in hell, always striving for more power. Being restrained by deals with cannibals and sexually frustrated TVs. But right now?
Alastor closed his eyes, his ever-present smile falling into a relaxed smirk as he felt the cool sea breeze on his face. He felt the power coursing through his veins as shadows writhed eagerly around his back. He could feel the special connection he had with Tom, able to just pull the chain, and he would appear. The just out of reach sentient radio staff.
"I am ready, The world better be ready. I wont be gentle."