Chapter 9: The Supreme Liquidation
The atmosphere within Exam Center C didn't merely vibrate; it groaned under the structural stress of an approaching titan. From behind the artificial skyline of the mock metropolitan district, the 0-Pointer emerged—a gargantuan, rolling cathedral of rusted iron, exposed pistons, and hydraulic fury. It was less a machine and more a mobile fortress of obsolescence, its massive red optical sensors scanning the debris-strewn streets with a cold, terrifyingly mechanical detachment.
With every rotation of its colossal treads, the ground buckled, sending jagged cracks spider-webbing through the reinforced pavement. Dust billowed in thick, suffocating clouds, obscuring the sun. Most examinees did exactly what the U.A. faculty had mathematically expected: they surrendered to the lizard-brain instinct of survival. They panicked. The broad boulevard became a chaotic tapestry of fleeing teenagers, their Quirks firing off in useless, desperate bursts—sparks of fire, ripples of gravity, and futile physical augmentations—all discarded like chaff as they scrambled to escape the "Gimmick."
Amidst this tide of retreat, Hiromi Higuruma did not move. He stood as a pillar of obsidian in the center of the boulevard, his bespoke black suit jacket fluttering violently in the artificial gale created by the giant's advance. He looked up at the towering metal god, his sharp, aristocratically handsome features set in a mask of profound, weary disappointment.
"To call this an 'obstacle' is a gross legal fallacy," Hiromi mused, his thumb tracing the fine grain of his wooden gavel with rhythmic precision. "This is a systemic failure of the duty of care. U.A. has deployed a weapon of war against unproven children for the sake of a televised spectacle. It is negligence masquerading as education."
The Intervention: A Breach of Protocol
A sharp, high-pitched scream sliced through the low-frequency rumble of the robot's treads. Hiromi's head snapped to the right, his perception sharpened by years of observing human distress in the witness stand.
There, amidst the rubble of a collapsed storefront, lay a girl with short brown hair. Her leg was pinned beneath a massive, multi-ton slab of concrete dislodged by the 0-Pointer's seismic vibrations. The robot, slave to its programming to move forward regardless of the terrain, was mere seconds away from grinding her into the asphalt.
Hiromi recognized her instantly. Ochaco Uraraka. In the original tapestry of this world's history—the timeline he carried in his memories—she was meant to be saved by the frantic, self-sacrificing leap of Izuku Midoriya. But Hiromi's presence was a jagged stone in the gears of fate. He scanned the horizon; Midoriya was nowhere to be seen, likely stalled by the very chaos the robot had unleashed.
Hiromi was not a man of "destiny"; he was a man of the Law. And the Law dictated that even a delay of a single second was an unacceptable risk to human life. He would not wait for a protagonist to find his courage when he already possessed the power to enforce a stay of execution.
Hiromi didn't hesitate. He didn't scream a spirited hero's catchphrase or call out the name of his technique. He simply exerted.
Cursed Energy Reinforcement: Level 4.
He flooded his lower extremities with a dense, pressurized surge of CE. The ground beneath his dress shoes detonated as he vanished. He reappeared beside the girl so violently that the air behind him snapped in a thunderous sonic pop, a localized vacuum created by his sheer velocity. He reached down, his fingers—reinforced to the density of diamond—sinking into the concrete slab as if it were wet, unformed clay.
This was the terrifying peak of his Yuji-like vessel. His muscles didn't bulge in the grotesque fashion of a weightlifter; instead, they became impossibly compact, their molecular density mimicking that of a neutron star. With a sharp, controlled exhale, he heaved the multi-ton slab upward. The weight that should have crushed a car was tossed twenty feet away with a flick of his wrists, tumbling through the air like a piece of discarded cardboard.
"Exit the area," Hiromi commanded. His voice wasn't a shout; it was a calm, melodic chime that somehow cut through the deafening roar of the machine. "Now. Seek the recovery girl at the perimeter."
Uraraka scrambled away, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and profound confusion, but Hiromi remained. He turned his back to her, facing the 0-Pointer which now towered directly over him. Its massive, clawed fist was raised, preparing to clear the "rubble" in its path—rubble that now consisted solely of a lone man in a suit.
The Jurisdictional Override
Hiromi was acutely aware of the limitations of his gift. His Domain, Deadly Sentencing, usually required a sentient soul—a defendant capable of conscious malice and moral agency. A robot was an object, a tool. But as the 0-Pointer's shadow swallowed him whole, Hiromi tapped into a deeper, more esoteric understanding of his technique. If the Law could not judge the tool, it would judge the presence of the tool within a protected space.
"Domain Expansion..." he whispered, his voice carrying the weight of a closing argument. "...Deadly Sentencing."
A black, ink-like sphere erupted from his feet, expanding with predatory speed. It devoured the street, the rubble, and the massive machine. Uraraka and the distant examinees gasped as the world was replaced by a mahogany void.
Inside the Domain, the laws of physics were superseded by the laws of the Court. The 0-Pointer remained frozen by the "Non-Violence" pact, its massive fist suspended a mere six inches above Hiromi's head, held in place by invisible, celestial chains.
Judgeman appeared behind the judicial bench, its three glowing eyes burning with a terrifying, divine light. However, instead of the usual scrolls of human sin, the shadows of the courtroom wrapped around the machine's chassis like rusted shackles.
[SUBJECT: U.A. GIMMICK UNIT 00]
[STATUS: UNLAWFUL INSTRUMENT]
"This unit has no soul to sentence, and therefore no mouth with which to lie," Hiromi's voice boomed, amplified by the Domain until it vibrated in the very marrow of any who heard it. "However, it exists in gross violation of the safety protocols of this jurisdiction. It is a public nuisance and an imminent threat to the life of the innocent. As the presiding judge of this space, I move for a Summary Judgement."
In a standard trial, there would be a defense, a rebuttal, a dance of words. But the Law of Higuruma was adaptive. Since the robot could not speak, the Law viewed it as an "abandoned asset"—a dangerous object with no legal right to occupy the courtroom's space.
[LIQUIDATION GRANTED]
The Domain dissolved in a swirl of shadows, returning them to the dust-choked street of Center C. Hiromi didn't possess the Executioner's Sword; that was a blade reserved for the sentient guilty. Instead, his wooden gavel began to drink in his Cursed Energy. It grew to a monstrous, impossible size, its head becoming as large as a vintage sedan, glowing with a dense, black-violet aura of pressurized energy.
The Impact of the Gavel: Sentence Passed
Hiromi didn't just swing blindly. His mind, sharpened by a lifetime of analyzing complex litigation, calculated the structural weak points of the 0-Pointer's reinforced chassis. He saw the stress fractures in the titanium, the flickering heat of the primary hydraulic core.
He leaped. His CE-reinforced body cut through the air like a high-caliber bullet, leaving a trail of distorted air in his wake.
"Sentence: Erasure."
He brought the massive gavel down in a perfect vertical arc, aiming for the 0-Pointer's central "eye"—the primary sensor hub.
BOOM—!!
The sound was not merely deafening; it was a physical assault on the senses. It wasn't the sound of metal breaking or glass shattering; it was the sound of the atmosphere itself being punched out of existence. The point of impact didn't just dent; the metal vanished, converted into a fine, molecular mist by the sheer density of the Cursed Energy.
A visible shockwave rippled through the robot's entire seventy-foot frame, traveling down its internal struts like a lightning strike. It shattered the hydraulic core, snapped the primary drive shafts, and buckled the massive treads. Hiromi landed gracefully on one foot, his back to the machine as the 0-Pointer began its final collapse.
It didn't fall forward with a crash, nor did it topple backward. It folded inward on itself, the structural integrity completely deleted by the single, perfect strike. It was a controlled demolition of a god.
As the massive machine settled into a heap of scrap and fine, grey ash, Hiromi stood in the center of the settling dust. His suit remained miraculously pristine, not a single thread out of place. He calmly adjusted his cufflinks, his hooded eyes reflecting the flickering fires and the dying sparks of the destroyed "obstacle."
The Monitoring Room: The Assessment of Power
Inside the U.A. high-security control center, the Pro Heroes were gripped by a localized paralysis of shock. The screens flickered with the image of the lone student standing amidst the ruin of their most expensive training asset.
"Did he... did he just neutralize the 0-Pointer with a single physical manifestation?" Midnight gasped, her hand pressed to her throat as she stared at Hiromi's handsome, disturbingly calm face.
"No," Aizawa interjected, his voice dropping into a low, predatory growl of intrigue. "He didn't just hit it. He used that 'Courtroom' to impose a localized reality shift—freezing the target—then hit it with a level of concentrated, refined force I've only ever seen from the likes of All Might. But look at the biometric feed... his heart rate hasn't even spiked. He wasn't even trying. To him, that wasn't a fight. It was a chore."
Nezu, the principal, stood atop his chair to get a better view of the monitors. "He didn't just destroy the robot, Shota. He treated it like a nuisance. Like a typo he had to strike from a legal record. Hiromi Higuruma... he isn't here to be a student. He isn't here to learn. He is here to be an Authority."
All Might watched the screen in a heavy, contemplative silence. He saw the way Hiromi looked directly into the hidden cameras—not with a smile of youthful victory or the braggadocio of a top scorer, but with a gaze of absolute, unyielding judgment.
"He's powerful beyond measure," All Might whispered, a cold shiver running down his spine. "But that power... it feels heavy. It doesn't feel like hope. It feels like he's carrying the weight of the whole world's sins on his shoulders, and he's found them all wanting."
The Return: The Closing of the Gates
The buzzer sounded, a long, mournful drone signaling the end of the entrance exam.
Hiromi walked through the gates of Center C, passing a phalanx of other examinees who stood frozen, staring at him in terrified, silent awe. He didn't look back at the wreckage of the fortress he had dismantled. He didn't check the scoreboard to see his points. He didn't need to. He knew the verdict.
As he boarded the train home, the setting sun casting long, orange shadows across the cabin, his thoughts returned to the crumbling foundation of the system he had just officially entered.
"The foundation is cracked and the pillars are rotting," he thought, watching the city lights begin to twinkle like false promises through the window. "They play at heroism while neglecting the sanctity of the Law. They think a numerical score defines a man's worth, and they think violence is a substitute for justice."
He closed his eyes, his mind already drifting toward the first day of school, mapping out the inconsistencies he had observed in the U.A. staff during the orientation.
"Fourteen years of waiting in this new life. The preliminary hearing is finally over." He gripped his gavel beneath his coat, a faint, dark spark flickering in the shadows. "Now, the real trial begins. And I will be the one to pass the sentence."
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Author's Note: Hello everyone! Thank you so much for the incredible support! If you enjoyed this expanded look into Hiromi's overwhelming power and his unique philosophy, please show your support and give me that POWERRRRR! Stay tuned for the next chapters, where the "Judge" finally meets Class 1-A!