Unduh Aplikasi
43.47% The Hunter Amongst Villains / Chapter 10: Chapter 10: Hunter's Truth

Bab 10: Chapter 10: Hunter's Truth

During a manhunt, the heroes must spearhead as scouts and then leading the main force of whom laid in wait in their respective police stations or at certain checkpoints away from civilian traffic. Once the target was found, the scout alarmed the rest of the forces into exigent actions, converge the criminal from all sides and box him or her in - cutting the person off from any potential escape and gun them down.

The scale depended on the danger level the individual pose, and for Garou, the government reserved one of the largest welcome party in Japan's history, all of the members designed to disarm Garou's defenses and capture him with overwhelming numbers and might - All Might exempted, however.

No matter how many times the heroes asked, the coordinating leader, Sir Nighteye, did not divulge the reason why All Might did not join them. Days before, Endeavour was especially perplexed by his absence, expecting the Symbol of Peace to jump at the chance to take down the public menace, but later quelled his concern in favor for the promise of glory.

Now, the lead scouting squad ventured the trail, a group of five lead by Hound Dog - the light-brown Lycan sniffed the concrete as the other four scouting the area around their tracker. To avoid attention from the masses the heroes dispersed, maneuvering through the streets or across the rooftops. None of the civilians approached Hound Dog unlike the days before the Hero Hunter. No children were running up to Hound Dog asking for autographs, no parents asking for pictures. They knew why he was here, aware of the manhunt for The Hero Hunter, The Nightmare of Heroes. The Hunter Amongst Villains.

The scent of which he tracked later lead to another trail, the other more recent than the current.

One trail depicted Garou leaving the crime scene, reeking of blood from head to toe. The other…

'He is mocking us.' Hound Dog growled, flashing his glistening teeth behind his retracted lips.

The latter trail was fresh, showing Garou returning to the crime scene erstwhile. Hound Dog knew of the Hero Hunter's… glaring accouterments. According to Sir Nighteye's summary of Garou, the man was unpredictable in mind and action, a being that thrives in violence outside the border of common sense.

And so recently too, the other scent a few hours old, as if the Hero Hunter was openly mocking them, taunting them brazenly.

Hound Dog swore to apprehend Garou this day, in the name of all the heroes he'd defeated and sent to the hospitals.

Traveling across the rooftops, Eraserhead and Snipe watched Hound Dog below as the warm, humid breeze of the summer air caressed their skin and gently billowed their respective scarves.

"Hey, Eraserhead. I've been wondering on one thing for a while."

Snipe asked wanting to kill some time.

"What is it?" Eraserhead responded, his voice slightly exhausted and dull.

"Ever wonder why Garou never killed any of us?" Snipe asked.

"Well…" Eraserhead had no idea. So far, all the villains he apprehended were just violent and without any meaningful or coherent purpose, delinquents rampaging for the sake of violence. Garou was an even stranger animal, however.

"I don't know. But I can tell there is a semblance of some motivation behind his actions."

Garou's proclivities were unique unlike the rest, the first that preferred leaving heroes severely injuries in body and spirit en masse, but still left them alive nonetheless.

"Maybe he trying to scare people into not becoming heroes or villains." Snipe guessed.

"That… might be possible."

It would explain his hatred towards both sides of the coin. Eraserhead could sympathize with those sick of the villains popping up like flies, albeit not those against the heroes.

"At this point, I don't think he's even categorized as a villain anymore. These days, Garou's hunts of heroes are now more…" Snipe paused trying to find the right words to describe Garou's recent hunts.

"Tame? Mild?" Eraserhead inputted.

"Downright humiliating. Worse, I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing."

Now, the heroes Garou hunted would join the body pile in a more… asinine fashion. There was even one time when Garou crammed Slidin' Go into a trash can and kicked him down rolling a steep, concrete slope. Reports confirmed that Garou smiled once the hero crash into a parked car at a sharp corner. Many more shared Slidin' Go's fate, forced to roll downhill while bathed in stinking garbage along the way.

It was as if Garou found more entertainment slaughtering their dignity than their bodily health. He even hung another Hero on a pole by their underwear which was absurd, making him more like an out-of-control prankster at this point.

"Well…" Aizawa has no comment on Garou's sudden transition from a demonic nightmare to a prankster imp.

"He still has a lot to answer for."

Snipe shrugged. "Yeah. We can find out after we apprehend him."

As they finished their chat, they heard Hound Dog speaking through their earphone communicators.

"[Hound Dog, here. Picked up a new trail, one stronger than before. Following now.]"

Snapped out of their idleness, Eraserhead placed a hand on the device, a grey wireless earphone inserted in the ear canal and fastened around the ear.

"Copy that. Team on standby."

Sneaking through the streets, Hound Dog continued sampling the air with each whiff as he turned his head to another area. If he recalled during their briefing, the area must be Hosu's market district. The time settled in early eve, streetlights still unlit as the sun still hovered obliquely above the horizon.

Entering the crossroad, Hound Dog saw Hosu's market district. From right and left, delis, cafes, and more marked by signs and billboards fencing the near-empty street. Car traffic was scarce, barely half the avenues filled on either side of the dividing yellow line - the air so quiet that not even the hum of engines was deserving of even an iota of attention.

Scenting the air once more, Hound Dog blinked. Garou's scent was most active here despite there being many trails. Just up ahead down the road.

"Strange…"

The tracks confused him. If the odors did not lie, Garou was here, just around the left turn. Unsure, Hound Dog followed them, his nose cyclically sampling the air, as the tracks lead him closer to the source.

'Is he… shopping?' It was the only plausible reason for his presence here, but he quickly shook his head. The very idea of Japan's Number One Menace purchasing goods like an ordinary citizen was beyond absurd, like saying All Might had secretly converted into a villain.

But his nose did not lie, and the trail was leading him to a supermarket right through the glass slide doors and within the room-lit interior. Rising to his two feet from his quadruped stance, the canine hero stared at the door while growling through his black muzzle encasing his snout.

He was here. Hound Dog was sure of it. Garou's stench was too strong to dismiss like an area so recently marked despite his beliefs.

He must alert his team to formulate a plan before-

The sound of the slide doors opening shook the Hero from his deep rumination. The scent grew active, the source drawing nearer and nearer until…

Hound Dog widened his eyes. Garou left the building through the automatic glass doors, staring at the Hero face to face with the supermarket light casting Garou's long shadow which shrouded almost all of Hound Dog minus the head.

The atmosphere suddenly dropped in temperature as tension rose, all warmth in the air died under Garou's gaze. The one with twin-pronged hair of bright crimson and demonic black dying his right sclera stood before Hound Dog face to face, the eyes of the first eerily fixed onto the latter's eyes with nary a twitch, radiating tension sparked between the two, their encounter was so sudden it left Hound Dog in a stupor.

And now after facing Garou, Hound Dog instantly understood the difference between seeing Garou through pictures and meeting him in person.

Garou's very presence was polarizing, simultaneously like a roaring flame burning those around and a cold void leeching the heat from the surroundings. Or maybe it was a fire that feeds on the temperature of others, robbing the energies to sustain its false brilliance, a flame that preys on other flames so to speak.

It was the closest metaphor he could find to describe Garou's aura of intimidation.

"Sup."

"!" His tone was calm, casual, but his hostility was palpably conveyed, like pricking thorns scratching his fur and drawing phantom blood.

Snapping out of his stupor, Hound Dog reached for his ear comm, but Garou was faster.

As his fingers were mere centimeters from turning on his commlink, his skull rattled from below his chin to his brain. The environment around him distorted, visual lucidity fading into blurs, as he felt his hold to reality slipping from his hand.

The Dog Hero did not know that Garou instantly knocked him out with a kick below the snout even as his awareness faded.

"'Scuse me."

Garou nodded as he bypassed Hound Dog. The hero behind him stood unconscious on his feet, his body not even tilting or swaying under even the breeze; a feat something none of the heroes could expect. It was as if he was lost in thought, his head in the clouds while his hand raised to scratch an itch.

None of the passersby even noticed his condition, dismissing his inactivity as usual — none except the hero fluttering in the air, his form flat and thin like paper.

Edgeshot didn't perceive what Garou did to Hound Dog, But that did not stop him from alerting the rest to Garou's location.

However, just when he attempted to reach for his ear comm, he saw Garou turning his head toward his direction.

He knew. Their time now fell under a limit upon their prey making his move.

---------

"Well, they're quicker than I thought…"

In all honesty, Garou did underestimate their effectiveness. Their response time did catch him by surprise, giving credence to the media's claim of their schedule packed in handling the many villains that popped up after his debut.

'Still, how many villains did it take for them to not pursue me after so long?' However, their late delay of pursuit did call their efficiency of handling villains into question. By all means, he was sure that he posed a more significant threat than all the villains in Japan combined.

Turning away from the weird cosplaying hero with the body of a paper plane, Garou surmised that they might have prioritized public security over him. They did have a responsibility to the people after all.

As Garou pondered, he walked across the street parallel to his side of the sidewalk, towards the bus stop leading to the mostly unpopulated neighborhood. If the heroes have even a speck of intelligence, they would understand that his dare to follow his lead.

The bus arrived, four tires underneath, extended white chassis, and the annoying ad sponsoring the shampoo of a useless blonde Medusa posing as a hero plastering the sides.

"Hmph," Garou glared at the sight of Uwabami, the view of the hero reminding him of Amai Mask.

Garou along with a few others, a mother and daughter, a medium-aged man in a suit with his eyeballs literally floating out the sockets, he paid his fare and took a seat in the back right next to the parent and child.

In his seat, his gaze staring at the man with floating eyeballs, he grimaced. No matter how many times he'd seen them, the mutants types, he cannot adapt in this land of strange common sense. The people here are weirder than monsters, the reason that they're not monsters in general. Usually, those with inhuman features like the floating eyeballs person would attack and terrorize out of instinct. Like how could the eyeballs float out his socket anyway? Did the guy lose them sometimes? Wait, the eyeballs were turning his way.

Looking away from the eyeballs, Garou returned his thoughts to the topic. In summary, the sight of inhuman beings mingling with society as ordinary citizens was disconcerting for a man born in a xenophobic world filled with death.

But at least he knew how to differentiate them from monsters, using their auras in generally. For someone like him, it was simple to distinguish the mutant Quirk users and monsters apart. The critical difference being monsters possess no trace of humanity in their mind, body, and soul while mutant Quirk users still do in mind and soul.

As he dwelled in his thoughts, he felt something small and soft tugging his loose trousers. Looking down, he saw the girl, her short hair rich scarlet and her eyes ruby red, looking up at him with curiosity behind her gaze.

"Mister. Why is your right eye black and the other not?" She asked, pointing at Garou's right eye, specifically the black sclera.

"Aya! Don't be rude to strangers!" The mother lightly chastised, her tone harsh and disciplinary.

"No, it's fine, ma'am." Garou didn't mind.

Even he cannot explain the black sclera and red hair. He suspected himself achieving around half of his goal under great hardship, almost becoming a monster of his dream. However, his progress stagnated because of his environment, his foes too weak to push him past his limits, which was aggravating.

"I get that a lot."

Even the boy asked how he got his makeover ever since he revealed his hair's original color.

"So is it a Quirk? What is it?" The girl, Aya, asked, looking up at Garou with eyes overflowing with innocent curiosity.

"Well…" Garou pursed his lips. "I don't know, but it is not from a Quirk."

No harm was present in divulging the truth since the natives disregard non-Quirk preternatural occurrences as myths.

"You lying." She pouted in return.

"What? It's the truth. I have no Quirk, believe it or not." He chuckled, finding her reaction to his teasing amusing.

"Are you wearing a costume then?" She asked, tilting her head curiously.

"Nope." He couldn't stop his smile from growing wider.

"Stop lying!" She complained.

"I'm not."

He found this conversation enjoyable. At least until he made the last stop, he can feel the presence of the paper hero known as Edgeshot trailing him behind a considerable distance.

"Mommy, he is being mean!" Aya complained to her mother of whom looked at Garou with slight disapproval and warmth.

"Aya, sweety, you shouldn't bother someone you don't know. And you, stop teasing Aya. What should you do if she cries?" She asked.

"Alright, alright." Garou raised both hands in mock surrender.

While they chat, the bus slowed to a piecemeal halt, the engines lowered to a continuous, constant hum in its stasis.

"Aya, it's our stop. Time to go, sweety."

The woman said as she rose from her seat and gently pulled her daughter's hand. Aya dragged her, the mother smiled and bid Garou farewell.

"Goodbye, mister!" Aya replied, waving her hand at Garou. Garou waved back with a simple raise of his hand while watching her leave out the steps followed by the other passengers behind her. Now, it was only him left, seats devoid of presence as the bus revved back to life as it traveled towards the last stop.

"Last stop, Owado Street. After making it to the last stop, please leave the bus. I repeat, there are no more stops after the next stop."

The driver announced, prompting Garou to grin as his fingers tightened around his shopping bags. Even without his eyes, he can feel it. Many more eyes joined him, gazing at his presence outside the streets almost unseen.

Now it was his turn to leave.

"Thanks." Garou thanked the driver after leaving the bus, smiling with slight anticipation. It had been a while since the first batch of heroes hunted him down. The real question remained: will they match the might of their predecessors?

Impossible. No wounds plagued the Hunter this time.

As he left, when the bus finally drove away, Garou waited in the silent twilight with one shoulder facing the road ahead and the other behind, basking under the sinking sun in the horizon once again. Looking up as the night choked out all the light slowly and the street lights lamping the streets in the sun's place, he realized that the sun did set when he fought All Might. It was poetic, symbolic even, signifying the darkness dominating the light once more.

"Well, how long will you rats prowl? Get out of there already."

Speaking to the shadows, Garou did not bother to allow even his assailants a brief glimpse. He waited as the heroes started to approach from the shadows, the alleyways around the square streets.

Many costumes arrived one by one, Edgeshot first, some guy of whom black fur covered fur from head to toe adorned in a haori and a hakama, and more that he didn't recognize now.

Garou didn't bother learning the names of the other heroes besides the top ten, minus a few exceptions at least. Sliding the bag from his palm to his wrist, Garou reached into his hero encyclopedia underneath his shirt just in case.

Taking it out, he flipped the pages by the thumb for a moment. However, his keen ears picked up ringing bangs of gunfire, most likely from firearms, two shots followed by two bullets whistling to him. In the interim as the world around him slowed to a perceived crawl, he calmly absorbed the sound of which two high caliber bullets emitted. But their trajectory was abnormal, each round curving towards their respective targets; one for the shoulder and the other his thigh.

Without looking away from his manual, Garou flung the manual ogee leftwards, trapping two bullets of which some hero decided to fire from the rooftops between the pages. Following the bullets' trajectory, Garou found a man garbed in western cowboy attire with a gas mask covering his face across the roof. He flashed him a brief smirk before tilting his manual to facing the floor, letting the bullets clatter by his feet as if to condescend his efforts before resuming his browsing the manual.

In the sidelines, Kesagiriman lifted his visor out of shock. Edgeshot stared at Garou dumbfounded, unable to process the feat.

"What the hell…" Snipe couldn't believe it. It was the first time he encountered someone capable of catching two high-velocity bullets with flawless precision and timing. Sir Nighteye did not only exaggerate the threat Garou posed, and he understated how dangerous he could become.

"Let's see…" Garou murmured, undeterred by the preemptive strike, as his eyes scoured the pages for the names of the heroes around him.

"Snipe. Hmmm, Kesagiriman? What a dumb name."

Kesagiriman felt offended by Garou's comment on the sidelines.

"Hmmm, oh, Ectoplasm? I see. What else…"

In Garou's idleness, vehicles ranging from police cars and SWAT vans entered the scene from both entries in droves, cordoning him. Heavily armed officers bedecked in heavy gear, ranging from riot helmets and full-body kevlar and each wielding submachine guns and rifles, and heroes exited the vehicles from the sides of the white cars and back of the vans.

"Best Jeanist, Kamui… Midnight?" Garou eyed the R-18 Hero, ocularly glazing her BSDM costume from head to toe, questioning her attire's legality.

"Hm." He ignored the pervert, wanting to remain pure from her taint.

Now that Garou thought about it, he got the attention of a lot of heroes. A tree guy, another in full light metal armor, and more, and unexpectedly some that Garou sent them to the hospital. He did not expect some of his previous victims to join the strike team, like Crimson Riot. Garou was surprised by Crimson Riot especially since he did bend his limbs and folded the red hero into a literal human pretzel before throwing him into the body pile.

'Is that Eraserhead?' Garou blinked at the adventitious sight of the infamous Anti Quirk hero. He pondered on Aizawa's physical capability now that he thought about it. Should he test him in this clash?

Although the one standing behind the firing line dwarfed Eraserhead's presence after Garou took notice of him, revealing himself to be Endeavour. Now it was starting to interest him.

Returning the handbook in his shirt, deciding to have fun being in the dark, Garou smirked as he greeted them, "So, after all these months, you idiots finally showed up? Took your sweet time, though. I was getting bored." Garou mocked as he gently placed his shopping bags on the floor.

His eyes glazed at his new environ, absorbing the presence of the heroes and law enforcement around him. Despite knowing their full capabilities, he found this exciting in a sense. This might be his first encounter dealing with organized law enforcement as well.

"Give it up, Garou. Your 'hunting' days are over. If you know my Quirk, you'll know it won't end well in your favor."

Garou gave the speaking Eraserhead his attention, his interest aroused.

"So?"

"'So?'" Eraserhead returned his question. "Are you saying you can escape this?"

Garou blinked for a moment before it finally hit him. So that was their grandmaster plan? After all of his accomplishments, all of the body piles, this was the solution to their victory?

"Are you serious?" Garou asked, his voice dropped from jeering to the deathly grave, his smirk thrown into an instant frown. Did they actually think he had a Quirk? That they can just shut down his physical might and apprehend without resistance? Just like that?

"Are you sure you would rather come with us in scathed?" Endeavour replied in Eraserhead's stead. "I suggest you save us the trouble and tranquilizers and come quietly. There's much you've to answer for."

His arrogant response prompted the pincering lines of kneeling SWAT members to tense their own triggers with stress, the tense atmosphere starting to weigh down their composure in this iconic moment. The Hero Hunter stood before them, his fangs and claws disarmed, his form rendered vulnerable to conventional weaponry. If he did not come quietly, blood would be shed this day. Unlike before, none can afford failure - Garou's presence alone was jeopardizing enough. They cannot allow him to remain free, out of bars or within life.

Within the pause, Garou stared at Endeavour, his eyes stoic, unreadable. These heroes had not a single clue on how to handle dangers beyond their level: no careful coordination, no planning, just simple protocol without scrutiny.

"He… hehe…" The sheer ridiculousness of it all started to get to Garou. He had been underestimated, again and again, none of those present possessing even a single iota of the true danger he posed.

"Hahaha! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Usually, such hamartias were tolerable back home. But here, after months of repeated disappointments and apparent examples of his might via his victims, they moved with less than half the appropriate measures required to handle him, even if injuries riddled him bloody.

He finally understood with perfect clarity. All this time, they did not perceive him as a villain with tremendous power, but someone in possession of a dangerous Quirk — an out of control Villain that must be put down.

"So that's how it's gonna be." Garou wanted more than this. He had hope that the heroes had something to push him to his limits, but, unsurprisingly, they failed his expectations. He will punish them for their mistake, collect their compensation with their bodies.

------

"I hope you're ready." Garou threatened, his gaze shifting into a piercing glare of cold ire.

Garou's unnatural presence took form, his entire visage growing; as if something terrible was slowly abandoning its human disguise. The shift in the atmosphere was palpable as if lead filled the air to crush their courage under the growing weight of which all present flinched on reflex.

"To feel true terror carved in your skin."

Under his threat, all firearms present, even Snipe's pistols on the roof, primed impromptu. Their target must be delusional if he can overwhelm this obstacle while powerless.

"If you wish to fall in wounds, then so be it, 'Hero Hunter.'" Endeavour laughed, amused by his response. "Fire!"

"Open fire!"

From both sides, guns flared in a fulminous orchestra, unleashing storms of rounds of which they converge towards Garou as the center. Under Eraserhead's nullifying gaze, none of the heroes expected Garou to withstand the barrage especially after all the crimes he committed to now. None of the heroes could allow such a dangerous person to roam, but their code forbade them from killing him. Despite his atrocities, he did not take the lives of any Hero or Villain. By now, Garou should be a pincushion of tranquilizer darts, pumped full of powerful anesthetics and lying on the floor helpless.

But no blood touched the grey road, not even a drop; only slugs glancing the stone around Garou. In the silent aftermath, all stared at the singular form of the Hero Hunter speechless, unable to believe the sight in front of them.

Garou remained on his feet unharmed, arms crossed perpendicular - right arm straight forward and left wing under it - both of whose fingers held non-lethal bullets between their fingers. The residual smoke of ignited gunpowder still steamed from the metal.

"What… did he just?"

Some of the heroes could not understand what occurred. Didn't Eraserhead shut down his Quirk? All confidence of victory vanished at this scene, wasted like the spent ammunition around Garou's feet.

"What… just what happened to his Quirk? Eraserhead!" His confidence shaken, Endeavour shouted at the key player to Garou's capture.

"Eraserhe-" Endeavour cut himself off upon seeing the scarlet glow behind Eraserhead's slit visor.

His Quirk did activate, his nullifying gaze affixed to Garou unfaltered. Then how did Garou's Quirk still work under his Quirk's effect? Only two possible answers came to mind, Eraserhead's mind.

One, Garou's Quirk was, as outrageous as it seemed, completely invincible. Or two, even more outlandish, Garou did not have a single Quirk. Or, finally, three, the most possible but illogical answer, Garou's Quirk was a Mutant Type all this time.

Either way, their plan failed. In the end, Eraserhead could not remove Garou's fangs and claws, an outcome none could believe was possible.

"Are you ready?" Garou asked.

Now, mantling the shroud of terror, Garou's size seemed to double, his human features distorted by the intangible veil woven from origins unknown, the fabric indisputably inhuman.

"O-O-Open fire!" The SWAT Team panicked.

Fear for their safety devoured their equanimity, forcing the captain of the firing squad to repeat his order to down the demon before his and his fellows' bodies join the bloody pile.

However, before their fingers even tensed, Garou responded in turn. After his arms blurred at speeds beyond their perception, every gun in the vicinity fell violently disassembled, broken apart by high-velocity projectiles. Whatever Garou did to remove their fangs, it knocked some of them down their feet while others stumbled from the penetrating force.

"W-What happened?! Status report!"

Endeavour shouted, now evidently concerned by the illogical turn of events.

"Our… no, no! Impossible!"

One of the SWAT team inspected the object jammed inside his submachine gun. It was the slug of the same round they fired off their weapons.

"H-He threw our tranqs back at us! That is not possible! He's not human!"

The shouting enforcer trembled before looking at Garou, seeing the monster pose as if he threw projectiles on both sides.

"What the hell?" Eraserhead couldn't understand this guy. What in the world was his Quirk?

The heroes gathered were meant to draw and quarter Garou in should he become troublesome, towards Eraserhead before neutralizing him. Sir Nighteye did mention Garou's tendency to not include civilians in his hunts, but he gathered the heroes just in case.

However, in an unexpected turn of events, the Hunter challenged them in an open field, away from public eyes, and still, he managed to defy their expectations.

"Are you done?" Garou asked. His face was now a rictus, no mockery or scorn.

His words reminded the heroes of their duty. They were here to apprehend the Hero Hunter without fail.

"Well, it looks like we got ourselves a genuine monster."

Gran Torino, an old man sharing a child's height, landed in front of Garou, a tiny, senior man possessing short spiky hair and a beard.

His costume was a full-body monochrome suit, a yellow cape fluttering behind his back, a belt with the letter 'G' on it, thick yellow gloves and boots, and a dark domino mask resembling two diamonds.

"You sure you want this, old man?" Garou asked, no gaiety present in voice or mien.

"Hah!" The elder laughed with a furious smirk.

"Who said I'm fighting you alone?"

Those around him caught Garou's narrowing eyes with focus, seemingly enough to draw him away from Edgeshot for attempted subjugation.

Three crimson lines flew towards Garou as Gran Torino shot forth, propulsing himself towards Garou from both sides.

Unfazed, Garou caught Gran Torino by the head in one hand and severed the red lines with a swipe using the other. Edgeshot watched as Garou threw Gran Torino at him, causing the foldable hero to widen his body into a paper net and catch him.

"Charge!"

Sparks igniting sparks, the other heroes charged, the battle started with Gran Torino's first move. All of the SWAT teams moved out, leaving the heroes to their jobs as the chaos begun in the natal night.

Heroic cheers filled the quiet street as they attempted to subdue the most dangerous man in Japan. However, their attempts were but the prelude to a dark epoch.

"I'll go first!" Midnight joined the fray, already pulling open her costume to release her knockout pheromones at Garou.

However, as she ran towards him, Garou appeared before her and gripped her shoulder. With a grip strength that could break bone past the muscle, Midnight felt as if Garou ripped out her strength as he incapacitated her in one move. She fell to her knees, white dominating all colors on her eyes, ready to fall defeated.

"He knocked her out with a shoulder squeeze?" Eraserhead had completely underestimated Garou.

No, everyone present did. They made sure to expect anything, but not on this scale. Their imaginations were not big enough, something they never thought possible.

The pheromones didn't even seem to affect him. His health was more vigorous than an enraged ox and just as angry.

Without wasting time, Garou tore Midnight's whip from her grasp before she completely fell facedown and swung it at Edgeshot, the thong of the whip biting the side of his nape with a thunderous crack. Next, with another swing, he slammed the undulating whip's tip at the ground to launch the bullets up via the splash force of the impact. Pivoting by his sole after ducking Kesagiriman's high-speed lariat from the side, he grabbed two of the midair bullets with his other hand and threw them at Snipe.

The bullets flew faster from his hands than those from firearms, each slug striking Snipe's guns just when he aimed at Garou after reloading - both rounds shattering the weapons apart and, through them, glanced off Snipe's shoulders. Despite the pistols softening their momentum, the projectiles nearly snapped Snipe's shoulders from their sockets, causing the hero to cry out in pain.

Joining Kesagiriman, Crimson Riot and Ingenium roared with heroic spirit in their charge towards Garou. However, without discrimination, the three flew high above in an arc, their costumes suffering dents and recurves while Ingenium's armor left cracked. The second they stepped within Garou's range, they were defeated in that same second, faster than their average eyes can see.

Eraserhead watched as the three plummeted behind him in their landing, now nothing more than unconscious casualties. Their encounter was beyond anything they imagined when facing Garou. Garou possessed power and skill far higher than any villain could achieve.

"Go!" Ectoplasm shouted before spewing glowing white fog from his lipless maw, summoning his expendable clones into the fight as Kamui, Best Jeanist, and more entered the fray.

Even with their numbers, Garou did not move. He did not need to, for his presence was as imposing as an immovable mountain.

Each of the rushing Ectoplasm clones merged to increase their size, choosing quality over quantity, Best Jeanist unleashed fired his wires which zipped around Garou toot sweet, and Kamui enlarged his hand into branching brown.

"Forced Internment Giant Bites!"

"Lacquer Chains Prison!"

The triad assault crashed down upon Garou, Kamui's wood constricting Garou, Best Jeanist's fiber strings about to tether him, and Ectoplasm's giant clone ready to devour him - an invention wrenched from desperation.

BOOM!

However, Garou did not abide by standard rules. With a raise of Garou's fist after its discarding Midnight's whip, scarlet contrails following its ascension, the giant clone's head disintegrated. With three crimson swipes with the other, the wood and wires dropped to the floor as blood flowed from Kamui's palms.

"Oops," Garou uttered upon seeing blood.

"Didn't mean to do that. I thought you were a tree, honestly."

After hearing his mock apology, Kamui stared at his hands, focusing at the blood spurting from his gashes fitfully.

"Ahhhhhhgh!" Kamui screamed, clenching his hands as he stumbled back. The cuts weren't deep, but it was severe, the skin and muscle tore while the bone's slightly abraded from the friction.

"Kamui!" Best Jeanist grit his teeth.

Never before did a villain counter his fibers with contemptuous ease. A feeling shared by Ectoplasm after seeing his clone's head blasted to oblivion via one explosive punch.

"I-I'm alright!"

To prove Kamui wrong, Garou slid his foot under Midnight's whip and kicked it up to his hand and cracked it at Kamui. The tip speared into his skull, right between the forehead, and launched him back but not sans kayoing him cold. His body flew straight, covering significant ground above the terra.

Eraserhead intercepted his path, catching Kamui with spread arms, but his flight's velocity knocked him down tumbling across the floor, forcing a pained cough from Eraserhead as he set Kamui's body down the floor.

"Alright, this isn't working."

Eraserhead stated the obvious. All of their tactics were useless, countered, or turned against them, and Garou didn't move too far from his spot. It was as if he was mocking them with condescension in his demonstrating the difference between him and them.

Plan A had failed. Plan B was failing. Plan C does not exist as far as he knew. Aizawa wondered if Endeavour could take the monster.

As for Endeavour, he was watching the carnage with his arms crossed. The time was ripe for him to save the day, but the unpredictable vortex of carnage stopped him from reaping the bounty. His face retained its stoicism, but behind his visage, doubt and fear clashed with his remaining confidence and pride.

Before Endeavour, Garou cracked at Best Jeanist with his stolen whip. The fiber hero managed to parry, but it only muffled the force enough to suffer knockback sans severe damage as his back skid burning across the concrete.

None present ever thought Garou as a weapon master, but here he was, defying expectations with feats surpassing that of Midnight by a large margin. Unknown to most, Best Jeanist's ribs boiled from the impact, the damage momentarily incapacitating him.

"Now! Before he throws it again!"

Gunhead, Deatharms, and Fourth Kind joined the fray to down the menace as he pulled back his whip. Gunhead prepared to fire his keratin claw bullets from his bulky grey gauntlets as Death Arms and Fourth Kind charged with their fists raised.

"Hoh."

However, to their dismay, Garou hooked his foot under Midnight's prone body by the leg and threw her at the vanguard, towards the shooter to his surprise, causing Gunhead to halt his Quirk midway as he caught Midnight in his arms while the other two ran past him.

"You coward!" Fourth Kind roared, hungry for vengeance against Garou for sending him to the hospital in shame - for beating him using his fists, for making him hit himself.

"Same goes for you."

Retorting back, pulling the whip taut apart, Garou pirouetted under Fourth Kind's right hook and danced towards Death Arms, closing the distance so fast his face was centimeters away from Garou's.

"Whoa!" Astonished into action, Death Arms threw a left hook, but Garou ducked and spun around his left undeterred. When their backs confront, Garou's raised his arms overhead and hooked the taut thong of the whip under Death Arm's chin and pulled the hero into a choking hold tight.

Now choking the hero using the whip as a garrote wire, Garou, with his gaze, dared the others to come at him while seemingly strangling the hero.

"He's enjoying this." Endeavour now understood the drive.

Garou was now playing with them. At first, it was personal, but now he was starting to enjoy toying with their self-esteem like a cat playing with yarn. Even more so with the hero-made-hostage in his hands, his life held by the literal thread of which Death Arms desperately pulled at in his vain struggle for freedom.

Garou's lips slowly curled into a smile once the adrenaline flowed as he slowly pivoted, scanning his surroundings while his toy gagged and choked behind his ear. After stopping at a certain angle, his right shoulder facing Ectoplasm, Garou released Death Arms from the throat and swung his whip upwards, smacking Ectoplasm with so much force he careened through the air in somersaults - flipping four times before crashing down unceremoniously.

Garou then dropped the whip, grabbed Death Arms' skull and threw him at Gunhead faster than he could react. Then he leaped high overhead, in a sailing arc with the grace of a falling leaf, and landed behind Endeavour and Eraserhead.

"Are you all done with your presentation?" Garou asked as Best Jeanist struggled to stand on his feet recovered.

The rest of the remaining heroes joined Endeavour. All that remained was Best Jeanist, Endeavour, Eraserhead, Fourth Kind, and Gran Torino.

"I'll take that as a yes. But you failed to entertain like the rest."

---------

"Entertain? You think we're nothing but toys for you to play?"

The one called Eraserhead rebuked his words, his brows provoked into a furrow.

"What else are you?" Garou laughed.

"We're heroes, you monster." A soft yet angered voice joined the conversation.

Walking beside them, Gunhead joined the heroes, his unique mask suffered cracks, a bruise marked his right shoulder, and his focus disoriented but his body still able.

"Oh, you live. How's your soul mate? He still kicking?" Garou taunted as he glanced Death Arm's direction. The hero was coughing, his breath deprived and his stamina was waning, but still capable of returning the fight.

"Huh. Should've broken a windpipe or two."

Garou pondered how he should break the survivors' spirits. He went this far with the horrendous appetizers, so he should entertain himself with the remainders despite already consuming the main course that was All Might.

"Where in the nine hells did you learn to fight like that?" The small old man in black and yellow asked, his lips curled to a stoic lour. Never in all his years did he encounter anyone like Garou, not even that One could compare in terms of talent.

"Self-taught." They cannot meet the Old Fart or any of the heroes back home anyways — no need to burden them with the illogical. Besides, Garou did learn by himself after leaving the dojo.

"Are you serious?" Eraserhead could not believe it. A man 'his age' with so much talent and potential like him could exist? Preposterous. If not…

"You won't find anyone else like me out there." A half-truth since he was raising one from scratch.

"Why do you hunt heroes, Garou?" Endeavour was the next person to ask. The Hero Hunter demolished his preconceived beliefs. The man before them was not a villain, but something more. His actions in destroying all the heroes present without breaking a sweat justified it.

"Because you're all worthless." Garou bluntly replied, his smile glowering. "None of you are even close to being called heroes."

His condescending insult inevitably provoked scowls as the atmosphere weighed down the air with tension.

"Meaning?" Eraserhead asked, his eyes narrowing into menacing slits behind the visor.

"Is it not obvious?" Garou spread his arms, diverting their attention to their environment.

"Your colleagues' breathing corpses explains enough."

His refute provoked them into defending the honor of their comrades.

"The heroes are the defender of peace. Their might is secondary to their sense of justice and willingness to stand against evil, lest they become nothing but violent souls," Gran Torino argued, bringing the matter of the heroic heart.

"Then why is there no Quirkless heroes? Hm?"

His answer caught them off guard, blindsided their expectations.

"I do not follow." Endeavour did not expect this kind of response.

"Let me tell you something interesting." Garou's distasteful frown deepened before revealing the bitter truth.

"I. Have. No. Quirk."

---------

Omake:

Garou was… strange. He hates heroes, yet is more human than heroes. He started ranting to me how much he hated Quirks, mostly because all the heroes are weak. I thought he wanted to find someone strong to improve himself or sate his lust for battle.

I was wrong.

There was a realm outside of human reach. Garou did not elaborate, his exegesis vague, but I think I understand in a sense. There is a power that defied rational understanding, something that lies on the other side. I had no idea what he meant, but after training with him, gambling my entire life on his path, I now knew what he meant.

God has placed a limit on me, on all of us - biological, mentally, and spiritually. Garou… well, he is far on this road, despite his power already beyond that of the Number One Hero's. I now started to understand his goal after weeks of observation.

He wanted to become a Symbol like All Might, but not on All Might's level. He wants to become the sky, the infinite expanse untouched by any shackled to the Earth. Not the mountain, like All Might, but the endless horizons above us, watching us from the ethereal unknown.

I wanted to see that. I want to know what it means to reach the sky.

I've seen how Garou trains. Sometimes, he meditates under the waterfall. Other times, he enters into a trance when on the mountain where the terrain is flat enough to stand on.

Never have I seen such fluid purpose crafted in every move. His transitions and stances switch at a pace I cannot visually track, my focus shattered by the next otherworldly step. I cannot read him even though I'm confident in reading others. He moves like the shifting waves, the flowing air as if he became one with nature as a free spirit.

I want to reach him, to become someone as great as him. I don't want to be like the others anymore, someone I can call strong, my ideal.

Unlike Shikai, my classmate bully.

Shikai is not human. He is a monster. Anyone who laughs at my parents' death without care are monsters. The same goes for the rest of my class. They are not human, yet they are bound in human skin.

Just like the monsters in Garou's home. Just like the villains he hunts.

Envy afflicts Shikai. His grades were always mid-level, his stress high. He has charisma, yet unsatisfied with it. He did not know the value of his current traits and pick on others for having talents he does not have while abusing his with hypocrisy, swooning others under his honeyed tongue.

Reiko and Reika, twins, are infatuated with him. They drown out everything else just for him. They compete on getting his attention, be it in lunch on who gets to his seat first, or who gets to feed him. I grew sick of watching them- even more so when I noticed Shikai's growing arrogance, his starting to see them as objects. I despise them just as much as everyone else in the class.

Mrs. Mara… she is nice. But she is powerless. I do not hate her. I do not blame her anymore. I've already learned that even adults cannot change fate or destiny, but I respect their drive to try.

Just like my parents. Under the rubble of large skyscraper, when they took me to meet their friends. I can never forget their smiles even as they passed away, their hopes still shining even under the choking dust and darkness.

I will never forgive him, for not being there in our time of need - for his carelessness and hesitation. I hope he remains haunted by my screams when I roared my hatred for him and his kind.

Walking on the bridge above the running river at the outskirts of Dagoba, I watched over the reflective streams, staring at my fitfully distorted image under the setting orange sun. My usual smile left me, my cheerful veneer straightened by stoicism.

I always liked this place, away from the noise of heroes and villains, peace in its purest, unadulterated. Breaking contact with my malformed reflection, I stared at the sky, taking in the beauty of sky blue and cumulus white.

I don't think like a normal child anymore. How could I? My thoughts rapidly matured in my search for answers, to find out why my parents died a needless death. Only to find out there are no answers to mitigate my seething rage.

However, I did find answers to fuel it.

My gaze shifted down from the skies to my right hand, looking at the limited edition All Might Figurine, mint condition and fresh out the box, as I pressed the button behind, activating the automatic catchphrase All Might was so famous for.

'I am Here!' it said. Where were you when you were needed?

The everpresent smile on the toy was once my Symbol of Hope, my iconic hero. Now, it represents my hatred for the current society. There is no value in power unearned. That is the lesson Garou taught me, intentionally or not, with I as the evidence alone.

I am grateful… Garou showed me a truth none of the heroes would show, none of this world would allow. Garou might be sadistic in nature and his methods, but he did care. He genuinely cared for me.

A small tear trickled down my eye before I knew it as my lips trembled into a buckling scowl, his very face now inspiring something I never showed to anyone, not even the Hero Hunter.

Fingers tightening around the throat, I turned my head at the expanding river flowing into the horizon and tensed my hand. The head of the figurine almost snapped, half broken from excess strength, the voice box now garbled in incomplete sentences like 'All here' or 'He-Might,' the one of All Might's uprooted blonde locks snapped onto the floor. I miscalculated my grip strength in my throw, no matter.

Channeling all my weight, I threw the blasted thing into the river as it splashed down the watery depths. I can no longer see it as the waters carried it away downstream.

Shame. My parents bought me that toy… a part of me still wants to keep it as a memento from mama and papa. I hope they'll forgive me as my watch the stream flow and bath in the soothing sound of running water.

"Watch over me."

I whispered my prayer to the skies as I turned away from the streams and left, carrying slight regret but not sans feeling lighter in return. With many calming breaths, I struggled to reclaim my 'normal' smile. I do not want to scare my family no matter what. My secret must never be revealed as long as I could.

---------------

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