Midoriya Izuku walked down the street like a broken shell, his steps heavy and unfocused.
"Don't cry… don't cry!" he told himself desperately. "You already knew this, didn't you?! You knew it would be like this… and yet you still struggled all this way!"
No matter how hard he tried to encourage himself, tears continued to stream down his face.
"Boom! Boom!"
Suddenly, a series of explosions erupted from the commercial street across the road.
Izuku's dazed state vanished instantly.
"That explosion—!"
His blood ran cold.
"It's the sludge monster again! It found another target! Did All Might let it escape?! If it slipped away back then… then isn't this all my fault?!"
Crushing guilt surged through his chest as he blamed himself relentlessly. But when he finally saw the face of the person struggling desperately inside the sludge—
Izuku clamped both hands over his mouth.
"K–Kacchan!!!"
His body moved before his mind could catch up. Izuku charged toward the sludge monster without hesitation.
But before he could reach it, a powerful figure burst out of the crowd even faster—and grabbed him firmly, stopping him in his tracks.
"Hey, hey—what kind of over-the-top manga plot is this?!"
The man muttered to himself, then turned to look at Izuku.
"Judging by your face, the guy trapped in that disgusting sludge is your friend, right?" he said calmly. "Don't worry. I'll get him out."
This man was none other than Igarashi Masata.
Ignoring Izuku's stunned, almost angelic expression, Masata clenched his fists, joints cracking loudly—
And then—
He started taking off his clothes.
"What's wrong with this kid?! Why is he undressing in public?!"
"Does he have some kind of… strange hobby?!"
Whispers spread rapidly through the crowd.
Not far away, Yaoyorozu Momo, who had just rushed over after hearing the commotion, covered her forehead helplessly.
"Masata… seriously. We were just shopping," she muttered. "Did the hot-blooded gene in his body start acting up again? And is he really planning to fight the villain bare-chested?! Why does he always take off his clothes first?!"
After stripping down, Masata bent slightly, taking a sprinter's stance.
The powerful muscles across his body rippled as strength surged through them. His right leg slammed into the ground, and his entire body shot forward like a cannonball.
In the blink of an eye, he was right beside the sludge monster.
"You disgusting pile of muck," Masata growled. "Get down already!"
"Normal Straight Punch!"
His arm swelled with power, veins bulging as his fist shot forward. There was no flashy technique—just a clean, direct punch.
But the force behind it was terrifying.
Masata's physical ability had already reached a near-superhuman level. Combined with the speed of his strike, the kinetic energy exploded on impact.
Bang!
The sludge monster, still focused on Bakugo Katsuki, barely registered what had happened before a massive hole was blown straight through its body.
"Who dares interfere with me?!" the sludge monster roared.
Despite the gaping hole in its form, it didn't panic. Attacks like this couldn't be sustained endlessly—and it hadn't suffered fatal damage. Given time, its body would recover.
Sure enough, the sludge began to slowly regenerate.
Seeing this, Masata smiled instead.
"So ordinary attacks can't deal decisive damage," he muttered. "But they're not completely useless either."
"In that case—"
"Continuous Normal Straight Punches!"
By now, the surrounding crowd had fully noticed the extra figure beside the sludge monster—the half-naked boy who had earlier been mistaken for some kind of exhibitionist.
"Is that kid actually fighting the sludge monster?"
"His punches do something, but the monster just regenerates! Isn't this pointless?!"
Masata shouted out nonsensical battle cries as his fists became blurs. His arms swung so fast that afterimages appeared, fists hammering forward relentlessly.
"Ora! Ora! Ora! Ora!"
Each punch tore chunks of sludge away, sending it splattering across the street. The monster's body was repeatedly blown apart, and the sludge binding Bakugo loosened with every impact.
Seizing the chance, Bakugo detonated explosions from both hands and blasted himself free.
"Hey! You bastard!" Bakugo shouted furiously the moment he landed. "Who told you to interfere?! I didn't ask for your help! I had it under control myself!"
Masata froze.
He had just risked his life saving this kid—and now he was being yelled at?
"…What the hell?"
Suppressing the urge to snap back, Masata forced himself to calm down.
"Whatever," he said, trying to sound gentle. "You should get out of here first. That sludge monster isn't finished yet."
He glanced past Bakugo.
"And it looks like it's getting bigger."
After all, this kid was clearly the friend of the boy from earlier. He couldn't be that old, right? Masata thought casually.
(Izuku: 166 cm. Masata: 180 cm. Yeah… definitely kids.)
Bakugo twitched.
Being called a "kid" made his blood boil, a visible vein popping on his forehead. But before he could explode in anger, a massive shadow suddenly fell over him.
Looking up, he saw the sludge monster had fully reassembled.
And somehow, it had grown to the height of the surrounding buildings—towering, blotting out the sky.
A deep, ominous gurgling sound echoed through the street.
"Tch…"
As angry as he was, Bakugo knew this wasn't the time to argue.
Without another word, he turned and ran.