"Your existence is nothing but a tool to me."
---
One week since joining hestia familia.
---
A white blur streaked through a group of Frog Shooters—large, grotesque, frog-like creatures with a single glaring eye.
These monsters were infamous for their precise tongue attacks, capable of snatching unwary adventurers and swallowing them whole in a single, gruesome motion.
One of the Frog Shooters lashed its thick, slimy tongue at the white blur, aiming to ensnare its prey.
All For One ducked under the appendage with ease, the motion fluid and practiced. His sword flashed in a sharp arc, severing the tongue cleanly with a wet, sickening sound. The creature let out a guttural croak of pain, its single eye bulging grotesquely.
Gripping both his sword and dagger, he felt a growing appreciation for the dual-wielding style he had adopted. There was a certain elegance to it.
Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the wounded Frog Shooter, sidestepping another tongue attack from the one on his right. The injured one, still reeling from the loss of its tongue, tried to crush him with its massive body in a desperate move.
He leaped onto its slimy head, balancing effortlessly. Both blades poised, he drove them into its central, pulsating eye. The explosion of viscous, foul-smelling blood splattered across him, a confirmation of its demise.
Disgusting.
Jumping backward, All For One narrowly avoided two tongues snapping toward him. His expression twisted into one of irritation as he wiped the slime off his face with his arm.
With a sharp motion, he raised his hand, aiming at one of the remaining frogs still recovering from their failed attack.
"Fireball," he muttered, his tone calm but laced with a hint of annoyance. A large orb of fire erupted from his hand, hurtling toward the creatures and engulfing them in flames. Their agonized croaks echoed throughout the dungeon before silence claimed them.
Since his recent status update, his capacity for magic had grown significantly. The size and intensity of his fireballs had increased, and his expanded mind pool made such feats feel almost trivial.
He raised his hand again, his patience wearing thin as the last of the Frog Shooters lumbered toward him.
"Fireball," he repeated, his voice colder this time. The orb of flames incinerated the creature before it could take another step.
With the conflict over, he knelt by the grotesque remains, extracting the magic stones from the slimy corpses. As he worked, his thoughts wandered toward his recent, steady growth.
Currently, he was on the sixth floor of the dungeon—a feat that was nothing short of extraordinary for someone who had only been an adventurer for a week.
His fireball spell had made his progress significantly smoother. Against larger groups of monsters, it proved invaluable, allowing him to dispatch them quickly and efficiently. Still, the thought of the spell brought back a flicker of irritation.
Hestia.
Her reaction to him "rightfully acquiring" the fireball spell had been as annoying as it was predictable. Her anger was an obvious confirmation that she found his actions unacceptable. She had forgiven him once, but he doubted her tolerance would stretch much further.
Not that it mattered to him. He had no intention of stopping—not for her or anyone else. A brat like her wouldn't dictate his actions.
Suddenly, his instincts screamed at him. Without hesitation, he rolled, narrowly avoiding a set of sharp black claws swiping at where his head had been. Rolling smoothly to the side, All For One stood, blades at the ready, his eyes scanning the new threat.
A War Shadow.
These monsters, commonly referred to as "newbie killers," were infamous for their surprise attacks. Though not physically imposing, their incredible speed compensated for their lack of strength. Their fog-like bodies gave them a spectral, menacing appearance.
"Oh~," All For One smirked, his tone mocking. "What are you doing, Kurogiri? Attacking your own master like that?"
The resemblance was uncanny—the fog-like body and the ominous aura brought his old subordinate to mind. His taunt seemed to agitate the creature, its silent trembling a precursor to its next attack.
It lunged at him with startling speed, but it was no match for his skill.
All For One parried its sharp claws with his sword before plunging his dagger into its glowing eye, twisting viciously until the creature collapsed, melting into the ground.
From the remains, he extracted the magic stone, his eyes catching sight of something that hadn't disintegrated into dust—a drop item. A sharp, black claw gleamed faintly in the dim light.
"How fortunate," he muttered, tossing the claw into his bag before continuing deeper into the sixth floor.
It had been a decently challenging day. The monsters were increasing in number, and while the Frog Shooters weren't particularly dangerous, they were persistent. The War Shadows, though fast, hadn't impressed him much beyond their speed.
He sensed eyes on him. And it wasn't that pallum brat who had been eyeing him from a distance. His quirk made locating her an easy task, the abilities inside her giving her away easily.
This was different. Untraceable.
Likely magic, something akin to the quirk Search he had stolen from Ragdoll. For now, he dismissed the unknown stalker, turning his thoughts back to the pallum girl.
She was a curious case. Initially, he had considered eliminating her and taking her abilities. But further investigation revealed her connection to the Soma Familia.
That changed things.
From his research, the Soma Familia stood out as weak in strength yet profitable—a perfect target with his current lack of influence.
She would make an excellent pawn. He would mold her, break her, and rebuild her as a loyal subordinate. People at their lowest were always the easiest to control, and judging by her current state, she was nearing rock bottom. When she fell, he would be there to claim her.
His musings were interrupted by another War Shadow appearing.
"Let's just get this over with," he muttered lazily, raising his hand to conjure another fireball. Perhaps today he would push himself to the brink of mind down. It would be a knowledgeable experiment.
---
"Another one," a wolf person drunkenly demanded, his words slurred and barely audible.
The girl before him—a beautiful elf with blonde hair—shrank back cautiously, her expression radiating unease. "I-I think you've had enough, Fang," she said gently, careful not to provoke him in his drunken state.
The two were sitting at a private table in a bar that doubled as a gambling ring. The establishment wasn't much to speak of—just another shadowy dive in Orario, filled with the clinking of coins, muffled laughter, and the occasional frustrated groan of gamblers losing their bets.
It seemed the elf's attempt at de-escalation was futile. Fang turned to her, his drunken rage bubbling over, his eyes wide with fury. "Who asked for your opinion?!" he snarled, standing abruptly.
He raised his hand, his intention to strike the girl clear. The elf flinched, her body trembling as she closed her eyes tightly, as if the gesture alone could shield her from the blow she knew was coming.
She waited.
But the pain never came.
Hesitantly, she opened her eyes, only to see Fang's hand frozen mid-air, caught firmly in the grip of a visibly prosthetic red arm. The metallic fingers clamped down with just enough force to halt the strike but not enough to break bones—though it seemed capable of doing so with ease.
Her gaze followed the arm to its owner. She instantly recognized the man, her eyes widening in surprise and relief.
The man before her looked battle-hardened, his presence radiating a quiet menace. A thick beard framed his stern face, his disheveled hair adding to his rugged demeanor. An eyepatch covered his right eye, while scars crisscrossed his skin, each one telling a tale of hard-fought battles.
Fang, realizing who had stopped him, snatched his hand back with a sharp "Tch!" His face twisted in annoyance as he sat back down, muttering, "What do you want, old man?"
His tone dripped with irritation as he added, "Is the mighty Cobra here to finally take me out?" He let out a chuckle, raising his drink to his lips.
Cobra didn't respond immediately. Instead, he reached into his pocket, retrieving a box of cigarettes. Taking his time, he lit one with practiced ease, his movements calm and deliberate.
"I wouldn't feel any accomplishment in killing someone who raises his hand against women," Cobra said mockingly, exhaling a cloud of smoke. His voice was soft, yet it carried a sharp edge.
"Crazy old bastard," Fang muttered under his breath, clearly unimpressed. He'd never been fond of the geezer.
Cobra turned his attention to the elf girl. "Little Lia," he called, his tone soft but commanding. "Go and get the annual payment."
"O-of course," Lia stammered, her nervousness evident as she quickly stood and headed toward her office, eager to escape the tension.
Cobra took her vacant seat, exhaling another puff of smoke as he turned his full attention to Fang. His posture was deceptively relaxed, but there was a dangerous undertone in his gaze.
"I thought Ortiz was clear about not hurting her," Cobra said suddenly, his tone now laced with a warning.
Fang chuckled at the words, clearly unfazed. "As if that bastard cares about anything," he sneered, taking another sip of his drink. He gestured broadly to the bar, his irritation spilling out. "If he really cared, he wouldn't have made me take over her damn establishment for the Familia. Look at this place—this shithole doesn't even generate that much income!"
Cobra huffed, the sound heavy with disdain. "It's his own twisted way of making sure she's alright," he said, his voice low. He knew all too well the true motives behind Ortiz's actions. Let's just say they weren't born of genuine affection.
A heavy silence stretched between the two men, broken only by the occasional groans of gamblers lamenting their losses.
Fang eventually broke the quiet. "Where's Russell?" he asked, his tone curious. It had been days since he last saw the man.
Cobra took a final drag from his cigarette before answering flatly, "Dead." His tone was blunt, offering no comfort or elaboration.
Fang narrowed his eyes, the news catching him off guard. "Dungeon?" he asked, seeking clarification.
"No," Cobra replied curtly, offering nothing further.
Fang let out a dry chuckle, his lips curling into a smirk. "The doctor must be pissed..." he muttered, already imagining the chaos.
Cobra didn't reply. He simply pulled out another cigarette, lighting it with the same deliberate movements, the flicker of the flame briefly illuminating his weathered features.
---
In retrospect, it hadn't been the best idea.
All For One's head pounded with a dull, throbbing ache—like All Might smashing his fist continuously into his skull. Magic exhaustion was no joke.
Skipping his lessons with Eina, he made his way to the potion shop Hestia had mentioned, Blue Pharmacy. His headache wasn't going to solve itself.
The shop was unremarkable, a simple, humble building. He considered turning back but quickly dismissed the thought. The throbbing in his head made the decision for him.
The bell above the door jingled as he entered. Two figures stood at the counter: a blue-haired man who fit Hestia's description of Miach and a brown-haired dog girl with a stern expression.
"Welcome to the Blue Pharmacy! How can I help you, sir?" Miach greeted warmly.
"I need something for a headache—magic-related," All For One said, cutting straight to the point. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries.
"Oh! That must be painful," Miach said, reaching for a citrus-colored potion from the shelf. He handed it forward without hesitation.
All For One snatched it from his hands and drank it in one swift motion. The effects were immediate—his mind felt rejuvenated, and the pounding in his head quickly subsided.
That was effective.
The dog girl frowned, clearly displeased with his rushed actions, but he ignored her. He wasn't about to steal from Hestia's friend, after all. Her voice was already headache-inducing enough.
"How much do I owe you?" he asked, pulling out a guild cheque, intending to pay through his stored funds at the guild.
"That'll be 9,000 valis," the dog girl said sharply.
Miach opened his mouth to say something, but the dog girl's sharp glare silenced him.
All For One raised an eyebrow, intrigued by their dynamic. Clearly, this shop had financial troubles, and the girl was the one keeping things afloat.
"How much for low-tier healing potions?" he asked. Eina hadn't stopped talking about how important they were, so he might as well get some just in case.
"500 valis for low-tier potions," the dog girl replied, curt and to the point. He liked that.
"I'll take two," he said, writing out a cheque for 12,000 valis and handing it over. He added a generous 2,000 valis "tip," partially out of amusement but also to gain a little favor.
Taking his purchases, All For One left the shop with an amused smile, already planning to return again.
Naaza inspected the cheque closely, her eyes lingering on the extra amount. Miach seemed surprised at the address name.
"Hestia's Familia? That must be Bell! And he paid more than necessary," Miach remarked.
Naaza, however, remained silent. There was no mistake made. The extra amount was intentional.
She didn't care. They needed every bit to pay off that damn debt, after all.
---
"I think... I actually hit my limit!" Fang bellowed, his crazed laughter ricocheting off the walls of the decrepit bar. His words slurred together, nearly unintelligible under the weight of his intoxication.
The sun had long since set, and the gambling-den-slash-bar stood empty, save for the two of them. For a place as rundown as this, solitude was no rarity.
Lia lingered a few steps away, carefully maintaining her distance. She knew better than to stay within arm's reach when Fang was this drunk. Her hands fidgeted at her sides, her gaze flickering toward her office, though she knew it offered little hope.
"Hey!" Fang's hand shot out, seizing her arm in a bruising grip. "Don't ignore me, elf!" His voice was sharp, venomous, laced with the kind of malice that made her stomach churn.
"I-I'm not!" Lia stammered, her voice trembling. She tried to keep her tone placating, though panic bled through her words.
"Yes, you are." His growl was low, menacing. His free hand rose to brush her cheek in a mockingly gentle gesture, though his eyes held nothing but contempt. "It's your fault. All because of you that I won't be able to become a Level Two."
Before his words could sink in, the creak of the door swinging open drew both their attention.
Standing in the doorway was a young man, his pale skin and stark white hair gleaming faintly in the dim light. His eyes swept the room with disinterest, pausing briefly on Fang and Lia. One brow arched, faintly amused.
"Tch." Fang clicked his tongue, shoving Lia aside. She stumbled back, clutching her wrist and taking another wary step away from him.
All For One moved into the bar with slow, deliberate steps, his expression serene. "Good evening," he said curtly, his tone polite yet distant. Without waiting for acknowledgment, he crossed the room and seated himself at the counter.
Fang's irritation melted into a sneer. "The guts on this guy," he muttered, chuckling. He staggered over, dropping into the seat beside the newcomer, his wolfish grin baring sharp teeth.
Lia froze in place, unsure whether to retreat to her office or risk staying within Fang's line of sight. Her indecision cost her as Fang barked sharply, "Elf! Drinks!"
Swallowing her dread, Lia nodded and hurried toward the counter. From beneath it, she retrieved their last bottle—a diluted, bitter liquor barely worth the glass it was poured in. She poured a drink for All For One, placing it gently in front of him, then moved to fill Fang's glass. Who snatched it with unnecessary force, making her flinch.
All For One observed her quietly, his face unreadable. He lifted his glass and took a small sip, his nose wrinkling faintly at the acrid taste.
"So," Fang began, leaning toward him with a drunken smirk. "What brings a rabbit to the wolf's den?" His words were a slurred challenge, his tone daring.
All For One set his glass down carefully, his movements unhurried. "Curiosity," he replied, his voice smooth and measured.
It wasn't a lie. His quirk had led him here, picking up on an ability within the establishment. His interest was piqued.
"Curiosity, huh?" Fang echoed with a chuckle, downing his drink in a single gulp. He slammed the empty glass onto the counter and gestured for Lia to refill it.
She hesitated, shrinking back slightly. "T-Today's shipment is... over," she stammered, her voice barely audible.
Fang growled, his gaze snapping to All For One's still-full glass. "You gonna finish that?" he asked, irritation lacing his words.
All For One lips curved into a soft smile, his tone mild. "Of course."
Without warning, he brought the glass down hard against the counter, shattering its rim. In one fluid motion, he drove the jagged edge into Fang's throat.
The room froze as Fang choked, his hands instinctively clawing at the shard embedded in his neck. Blood poured freely, painting the counter and the floor in crimson streaks.
All For One leaned in, his free hand gripping Fang's head as faint black lightning crackled across his fingers. The sensation of power being pulled into him sent a satisfying thrill through his body.
"Enjoy the drink," he said softly, his voice laced with mockery.
Fang's struggles slowed, his wide eyes brimming with disbelief before going blank. His lifeless body slumped to the floor in a growing pool of blood.
Lia stood paralyzed, her breaths shallow and uneven. Tears welled in her eyes—not for Fang, but for herself. She didn't want to die here. Not like this.
All For One straightened, brushing invisible specks of dust from his attire. A few flecks of blood dotted his pale face, but he seemed entirely unbothered. His gaze shifted to Lia, softening ever so slightly.
"My lady," he said smoothly, his tone eerily calm.
Her wide, tear-filled eyes darted between Fang's body and him. Her entire frame trembled, her knees threatening to buckle.
"Are you able to talk?" he asked, his voice gentle yet commanding.
She managed a shaky nod, fear gripping her like a vice.
"Good." He clapped his hands together, his smile widening in a parody of cheerfulness. "Then let's talk business."
Lia's heart sank as despair clawed at her chest. Whoever this man was, defiance wasn't an option. Numbly, she nodded again, her hands trembling as she swallowed her terror.
'What the hell is happening to my life?' she thought bitterly, a wave of hopelessness washing over her.
---
The End
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Updated chapter: what's new? The entire interaction and fight between Fang and AFO have been reworked, plus a new character introduction.
The main antagonist characters might be a bit more interesting than before, as I've taken templates from already existing characters, like cobra here, he's just Solid/Venom snake parody.
I hope it's better like this, as a main antagonist is important and I need at least a good one.