**Musutafu, Hero Public Safety Commission Secure Briefing Room – February 5, 2026, 07:15 AM**
Ms. Arai's face was graver than usual. The holographic display showed grainy security footage: a massive, black-skinned humanoid creature with exposed muscle fibers, multiple eyes, and a beak-like mouth tearing through reinforced concrete like paper. Nomu—prototype. The first confirmed sighting.
"This is no longer low-level," she said. "This… thing was created in an underground lab. Quirk-enhanced beyond normal limits. It's already killed three pro heroes and injured twelve civilians. Your Pack is the only team with the synergy and recent success record to handle it. Mission: locate, contain, neutralize. Do not engage civilians. Do not let it escape the industrial sector."
Yamcha studied the footage, jaw tight.
"We'll need every edge."
Back at the loft, the three gathered around the table. Missori's antennae twitched as she analyzed the video feed on her upgraded tablet.
"Regeneration factor: extreme. Pain tolerance: near-zero. Speed and strength: variable, but increasing with each recorded fight. My Golden Threshold may disorient it, but not stop it. Portal can reposition us, but not contain it long-term."
Nemuri crossed her arms.
"My fragrance barely slowed Muscular. Against this? It might not even register."
Yamcha leaned forward.
"Then we don't rely on quirks alone. We outlast it. Wear it down. Hit weak points—joints, eyes, brain stem if we can expose it. Missori, gadget support: energy dampeners, tracking beacons. Nemuri, crowd control if civilians are near. I'll take point. Ultimate Wolf Fang to keep it off-balance. If it adapts… we adapt faster."
Missori nodded. "I can build a short-range disruptor pulse. It may slow its regeneration for seconds at a time."
Nemuri placed a hand on Yamcha's shoulder.
"You sure about leading this one solo up front?"
He met her eyes.
"I've fought worse. And I've got you two watching my back."
**Abandoned Industrial Sector – Sub-Level 4 Lab Ruins – 11:00 AM**
The Pack arrived via Missori's Keikai Gate—emerging into a cavernous underground chamber lit by flickering emergency lights. The air stank of chemicals and blood.
The Nomu stood in the center—seven feet tall, black skin stretched over bulging muscles, beak snapping, multiple eyes scanning. It had already torn through steel doors like foil.
It saw them. Roared. Charged.
The fight began.
First hour: testing.
Yamcha darted in with Wolf Fang Fist combos—rapid strikes to joints, trying to slow it. The Nomu regenerated almost instantly, but each hit bought seconds. Nemuri released fragrance clouds—useless. The creature didn't breathe like a human; it just absorbed the gas without slowing.
Missori's disruptor pulse fired—green energy wave that made the Nomu stagger for three seconds. Enough for Yamcha to land a double palm thrust that cracked ribs.
But it healed. Faster each time.
Second hour: attrition.
They rotated. Missori used portals to reposition Yamcha behind it—allowing blindside attacks. Nemuri's whip cracked at exposed nerves. The Nomu adapted—growing extra arms, hardening skin where Yamcha struck most.
Sweat poured down Yamcha's face. His aura flickered between red and gold.
Missori's antennae glowed constantly, reading its intent.
"It's learning. Becoming immune to the same patterns."
Third hour: desperation.
The Nomu's speed doubled. Yamcha barely dodged a fist that cratered the concrete where he stood. Nemuri was thrown against a wall—bruised but conscious. Missori's disruptor overheated.
Yamcha's breathing grew ragged.
"Fall back!" he shouted. "Both of you—now!"
Nemuri hesitated.
"Yamcha—"
"GO! I can handle this. Get clear!"
Missori opened a Gate—pulling Nemuri through despite her protests. They emerged on a higher level, watching through a cracked viewport.
Yamcha stood alone.
The Nomu roared, charging.
**Hidden Observation Point – Ventilation Shaft**
Stain crouched in the shadows, sweat beading on his brow despite the cold.
He had followed rumors of the "Pack" after the Muscular incident. Curiosity had turned to necessity—he needed to see if they were true heroes or another set of false idols.
What he saw now made his hands tremble on his sword hilt.
The Nomu was monstrous—faster, stronger than anything he'd faced. Its attacks blurred; even Stain's trained eyes struggled to track them.
Yet Wolf Fang moved faster.
Every strike precise. Every dodge by millimeters. Aura flaring gold-orange now—burning like a dying star.
Stain's breath caught.
*He's not human. Not entirely. But he fights like one who's died before and come back.*
The Nomu lunged—claws aimed at Yamcha's heart.
Yamcha planted his feet.
Hands cupped.
Energy gathered—blue-white light swirling between his palms, growing brighter, roaring like a contained storm.
"Kame… hame… HA!"
The beam erupted—massive, blinding, a torrent of pure power.
It struck the Nomu center-mass.
The creature roared—then screamed—as the force lifted it off the ground, hurled it upward through ceiling after ceiling, through the earth, through the sky.
Straight toward the sun.
The beam faded.
Silence.
Yamcha collapsed to one knee, gasping, aura flickering out.
Nemuri and Missori burst through the Gate, rushing to him.
Nemuri dropped beside him, hands on his face.
"You idiot… you could've died."
Missori knelt, antennae glowing softly.
"His energy signature… it's depleted. But stable."
Yamcha managed a tired grin.
"Had to… finish it. Couldn't let it hurt anyone else."
**Ventilation Shaft**
Stain exhaled shakily.
He had seen death before. Fought monsters in his own way.
But this…
He had never seen anything like that beam. Never seen a hero push past limits so completely.
And the Nomu—something even he admitted privately he couldn't have killed alone.
*They're real.*
He slipped away into the shadows, sword sheathed.
For the first time, the Hero Killer felt something close to respect.
**The Loft – Late Evening**
The three sat on the floor—Yamcha bandaged, Nemuri holding ice to his shoulder, Missori scanning him with a small gadget.
The TV played muted news: "Mysterious beam of light seen over Musutafu—Nomu threat neutralized. Wolf Fang Pack credited."
Nemuri kissed Yamcha's temple.
"You scared us."
He squeezed her hand.
"Worth it."
Missori's antennae glowed warmly.
"Your power… it was beautiful. Terrifying. But beautiful."
A notification pinged on Yamcha's phone—Commission secure line.
"League of Villains spotted in multiple sectors. They're watching you. Be ready."
Yamcha looked at his team.
"They're coming."
Nemuri smiled fiercely.
"Then we'll be waiting."
Missori nodded.
"Together."
The Pack sat in silence, the city lights glittering outside.
The next threat was emerging.
But they were ready.