"You know All Might, as much as you hate me, I think I probably loathe you more."
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One week and one day since joining hestia familia.
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"So, let me get this straight," Hestia said, arms crossed, a frown creasing her face. A sheet of paper lay beside her on the bed—his newly updated status. Her piercing gaze bore into him, her disappointment palpable.
"You were having a drink late at night at some bar," she began slowly, her voice eerily calm, "and you saw a Wolfman assaulting a woman," she continued, picking up All For One's status sheet and scanning its contents again, as though rereading them would make more sense of the situation.
"You wanted to help and decided the best course of action would be to... kill him," she folded the paper angrily, her knuckles whitening as she gripped it. "And then, while he was dying—by your own hands—you took his skill," she finished with a defeated sigh. Her hands went slack, letting the folded sheet fall to the floor.
All For One resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Was it really necessary to go through all that again? "Yes," he replied calmly, his tone soft, quiet, almost disarming. "The girl told me it wasn't the first time he'd done it." His words were deliberate, carefully constructed, infused with just enough honesty to bypass her divine perception. He couldn't afford for her to sense deceit.
The previous night had been... interesting, to say the least.
Not only had he acquired a new ability, but he had also gained a pawn. A rather fortuitous outcome for his current situation.
After his swift elimination of the Wolfman, he turned his attention to the trembling elf—Lia Rofir, as she'd stammered through her introduction.
Her fear had been understandable, her survival instincts taking over the moment he gave her a simple choice: serve him or meet the same fate as her abuser.
It wasn't difficult to persuade her; the corpse bleeding out on the floor was an effective argument.
He'd also questioned her thoroughly about her connection to the Wolfman, ensuring there was no hidden romantic attachment that might complicate her loyalty. Vengeful couples were unpredictable liabilities, and he preferred his pawns compliant.
Fortunately, the Wolfman had been little more than a thug, stationed there to keep Lia under control.
With the pieces falling into place, he had crafted an acceptable half-truth story for Hestia. It wouldn't do to make their relationship more strained than necessary, even if he didn't owe her an explanation. His position within her Familia was a crucial component of his plans, and alienating her would be... inconvenient.
Hestia sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. "Why do you keep getting into fights?" she asked, her voice cracking under the weight of her concern. "What if someone figures it out? They'll tear you apart for your skill!"
All For One met her worried gaze with a cold, steady stare before picking up his status sheet from the floor. "That's why I don't leave witnesses," he muttered, unfolding the paper with a deliberate motion.
Hestia flinched at his words, her hands instinctively gripping the edge of the bed. She opened her mouth to argue but stopped, the weight of his calm ruthlessness silencing her.
---
Bell Cranel: Level 1 Adventurer
Strength: 57 → 63 I
Endurance: 36 → 40 I
Dexterity: 44 → 47 I
Agility: 59 → 67 I
Magic: 45 → 50 I
Skills:
All For One, Feral Clarity
Spells:
Fireball
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"Feral Clarity, huh?" he murmured to himself, his sharp eyes scanning the new addition to his abilities. The name was fitting. He could already feel the effects—a sharper perception, heightened senses, faster reflexes. It was as though the world had slowed down, every detail more vivid and precise.
Satisfied, he threw the sheet into the hearth, burning it away.
Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a stack of guild cheques and handed half of them to the still-shocked Hestia.
"I began storing funds at the guild," he said simply, his tone curt. "Get what you want and use these to pay."
Hestia, still shaken by his cold demeanor, managed a small, hesitant smile. Maybe she was being unreasonable. He had saved someone from being assaulted, even if his methods were... extreme. While she didn't condone killing, she couldn't deny that he had done something... acceptable.
She watched him ascend the stairs, his calm, measured steps fading into the distance. The folded cheques in her hands felt heavier than they should.
"Maybe I should get him some creamed fried potatoes," she mused aloud, her mood brightening at the thought. "That'll cheer him up." With a determined nod, she set off to prepare something special for her Bel-kun's return.
As the goddess of hearth and home, it was her role to prepare a warm home for her child's return.
If only he weren't so complicated...
---
All For One dodged a frog's lashing tongue, continuing his sprint toward the offending creature. With a swift slash to its side, he ended its miserable existence by driving his blade into its singular, grotesque eye, extinguishing its life instantly.
Sensing movement behind him, he spun abruptly and delivered a sweeping kick, catching the War Shadow creeping up on him off guard. Without hesitation, he rose and stomped on its foggy skull with all his strength, shattering it with a sickening crunch.
In one fluid motion, he hurled his dagger at a closing Frog Shooter. The blade struck dead center in its grotesque eye, killing it instantly.
Suddenly, sharp claws clashed against his sword. Two War Shadows moved in unison, their eerie coordination an attempt to overwhelm him through sheer numbers.
Taking a calculated step back, he aimed his free hand. "Fireball," he muttered. A blazing orb of fire materialized, consuming the shadows in an instant and reducing them to smoldering ashes.
Breathing deeply, he scanned his surroundings.
Clear.
His new skill had proven invaluable, heightening his senses to sharp, precise extremes. It always kept him a step ahead of these pathetic creatures. Despite the earlier chaos—over a dozen monsters encircling him—he had maintained control.
He went to work, extracting magic stones from the monster carcasses, his thoughts wandering.
He now wore a new set of light armor, one Eina had practically demanded he purchase. He had relented, grudgingly admitting that losing his super-regeneration made proper protection a necessity.
The armor's maker—someone named "Welf Crozzo"—had done an exceptional job. Its durability proved remarkable, as even a full-strength slash from a War Shadow's knife-like claws had barely left a scratch.
At only 9,900 valis, the price had been shockingly reasonable—almost the same price as the mind potions he now relied on due to his embarrassingly low magical reserves.
As he worked, a puddle of Frog Shooter blood caught his eye. It trembled unnaturally. His senses flared, locking onto it.
Then he felt it—a rhythmic pounding. Tremors in the ground.
Something massive was approaching.
He glanced toward the entrance to the seventh floor. This particular area was vast, making monster ambushes rare. Yet the sound grew louder.
Steps. Huge. Fast.
Eina hadn't mentioned any such threats on the eighth floor. What was this?
He focused, his heightened senses estimating at least ten entities approaching.
Not good.
For a moment, he considered retreating.
But fleeing wasn't part of his plans.
Taking cautious steps back, he waited for the threat to reveal itself.
"Ahhh!" A scream echoed from the entrance. A human adventurer, clad in light armor and clutching a spear, came rushing toward him in sheer panic.
"Help! Minotaurs on the eighth floor! Someone, help!" the adventurer cried, his voice cracking as he stumbled forward.
Minotaurs here? They belonged on the fifteenth!
The adventurer tripped over a rock, falling flat on his face before scrambling to his feet, abandoning his spear in blind terror.
"Kid! Run! They'll crush you!" he screamed as he bolted past.
All For One narrowed his eyes. Overgrown cows capable of crushing him? Laughable.
The tremors intensified, the ground quaking beneath him. Yet his senses registered something strange—dwindling numbers.
Someone was eliminating the Minotaurs.
The Loki Familia, perhaps? They had been on an expedition in the deeper floors. Could they have returned and are dealing with this mess?
The timing was too coincidental. Why were the Minotaurs suddenly charging toward the higher floors just as the Loki Familia returned?
He needed more information, but from his quick assessment, if this was the Loki Familia dealing with these cows, it was likely their own fault.
He conjured a fireball, more concentrated and volatile than anything he had previously cast, and aimed it at the entrance.
Small rocks shifted and rolled as the puddle vibrated violently.
Then, a deafening roar echoed through the cavern.
"AGHAAA!"
Three massive, bull-like figures burst through the entrance, their eyes blood-red with fury. They spotted him instantly and charged.
He unleashed the fireball.
The explosion engulfed two Minotaurs, flames licking their muscular forms. But they didn't die. They merely stumbled, momentarily disoriented.
The third Minotaur, undeterred, charged directly at him, the ground trembling with its every step. It raised a massive fist, ready to crush him.
Slashing and stabbing weren't options—these creatures had notoriously tough hides.
He waited, poised.
As the Minotaur brought its fist down, he dodged and leapt onto its arm, sprinting up toward its head. With both blades drawn, he drove them into its eyes, severing its brain. The beast collapsed with a thundering crash.
"Easier than I anticipated," he muttered, attempting to retrieve his blades—only to find them firmly lodged.
Did he just jinx himself?
The two remaining Minotaurs—now extinguished of flames—charged toward him, rage burning in their eyes.
Frantically, he twisted and yanked at his blades, but they refused to budge. With a sharp snap, the handles broke free, leaving the blades embedded in the corpse's skull.
"This is shaping up to be an unfavorable situation," he remarked calmly, discarding the useless handles.
Dodging a crushing blow from one of the Minotaurs, he sprinted toward the discarded spear, narrowly avoiding another swing. For their size, the creatures were alarmingly fast.
Grabbing the spear, he launched another fireball at the nearest Minotaur. The flames engulfed it once more, but only seemed to anger it further.
The second Minotaur dropped to all fours, its horns aimed directly at him.
It charged.
Planting the spear into the ground, All For One adjusted its angle carefully, ensuring the tip aligned with the charging beast's eye.
"AGHAAA!"
The Minotaur's momentum carried it straight into the spear, which pierced through its skull, killing it. But its massive frame drove the horn deep into All For One's right leg, leaving a gruesome gash.
"Ugh," he grunted, annoyance flickering in his voice as he pulled himself free.
The final Minotaur roared, stomping toward him with murderous intent.
All For One aimed his hand. "Fireba—" His spell faltered as a sharp pain stabbed through his mind.
He was nearly out of magical reserves.
The Minotaur raised its fist for a finishing blow!
But before it could strike, a blur of gold and steel sliced at the Minotaur.
The creature's massive body was shredded apart with precision so rapid that he barely registered the movements. It exploded in a gory display, splashing blood everywhere.
Including on him.
Disgusting.
His eyes caught her—a blonde girl clad in light armor, her blade dripping with gore. His quirk immediately identified multiple abilities radiating from her.
"Are you alright?" she asked softly, her golden hair glowing in the dim light like an angel descending from heaven to save the weak and helpless.
Weak? Helpless? He was neither!
"I'm well," he replied coldly, disgust evident in his tone—not just toward her but also toward himself for being in such a pitiful state.
He retrieved a healing potion from his bag and drank it in one motion. The liquid dulled the pain in his leg but failed to fully heal it.
The girl seemed taken aback by his cold response, her mouth slightly open as if to say something, but before she could, All For One sensed two new figures entering the floor.
A strikingly beautiful elf with jade-colored hair approached, her movements calm and deliberate. She held a staff in one hand—a magic specialist, no doubt. His quirk identified numerous abilities emanating from her, confirming her role.
Beside her stood a wolf man with gray hair and a bare chest beneath an open jacket, his expression one of irritation.
"Ais! Did you get the last of them?" the wolf barked, his tone impatient and sharp.
So, this girl was the "Sword Princess," Ais Wallenstein.
"He killed two; I killed the third one," Ais replied calmly, pointing first to him, then to herself, as if explaining a simple fact.
"Huh?" The wolf man—"Runt," as All For One decided to call him—scrutinized him for a moment before bursting into laughter.
"Don't lie just to save this wimpy kid's pride, Ais! There's no way a scrawny tomato boy like him could kill a Minotaur!" the Runt sneered, pointing mockingly at All For One.
Before Ais could respond, All For One cut in sharply, his voice cold. "Can you stop barking nonsense in my face? Especially considering that your team caused this incident. I could very well end your career right here." His gaze narrowed dangerously, a thinly veiled threat dripping from his words.
The Runt's expression turned to one of surprise, taken aback that the "tomato boy" actually had the backbone to speak for himself.
"Huh?" he began, his tone now colder. "Tough talk for a scrawny tomato boy. Tell me, is that stick you're holding the latest fashion on the surface?" He sneered, laughing derisively at All For One's injured state.
"That's enough, Bete!" the elf snapped, delivering a sharp slap to the back of the wolf's head before All For One could reply.
"Tch, whatever," Bete muttered, his disdain evident as he dropped the subject.
Entitled brat.
The elf turned her attention to him, her expression becoming more diplomatic. "I apologize on behalf of my Familia. Are you alright? I can heal you if you're struggling to walk."
How sweet. She was trying to butter him up to avoid a Guild report.
He pondered briefly. What would the penalty be for letting high-level monsters roam higher floors?
"I'll manage," he said, his voice firm and steady. "But I must report this incident to the Guild." He stepped past the Sword Princess, her gaze following him intently. "Such negligence from the most powerful Familia in Orario cannot go unnoticed." He walked toward the exit. Though limping.
While he wasn't one to show weakness—it painted the image of a victimized adventurer seeking justice.
The elf visibly tensed at his words, though she masked her panic well. "That won't be necessary," she said sharply, a faint edge to her voice. "We'll handle it ourselves."
As if he'll let you spin the narrative in your favor.
He stopped and turned, his voice flat and emotionless. "One million valis."
A moment of silence passed. She looked at him, first confused, then understanding.
She was considering it.
"Who do you think you're blackmailing, punk?" the Runt snarled, his rage flaring.
"This is but a small nickel for a Familia as prestigious as yours," All For One replied calmly, ignoring the Runt's outburst. "Consider it compensation for my destroyed weapons and injured leg."
"You little—!" Bete's fists clenched, but Ais stepped between them, her hand on his arm. Her confusion was evident as she watched the scene unfold.
"That's enough," the elf interjected, her voice firm. "We agree to your terms. What is your Familia's address?" Her question was pointed, though All For One saw it for what it was—an attempt to gather more information.
"Search for Bell Cranel, a private account at the Guild," he answered smoothly. He resumed his limp toward the exit. "I expect payment by the end of the day. Otherwise, I'll be forced to report this to the Guild." His tone carried a finality that left no room for argument.
The three adventurers watched him disappear into the corridor, their moods shifting.
"Why did you agree, old hag!?" Bete demanded angrily, rounding on the elf. "We saved his ass, you know!"
"It was our fault," Riveria replied coolly, brushing off the insult. "If he hadn't kept the Minotaurs occupied on the seventh floor, we wouldn't have reached them in time to prevent casualties."
She fixed him with a serious look. "And this incident could've brought a hefty penalty down on our Familia. His silence saves us a mountain of paperwork."
Bete grumbled but held his tongue.
Meanwhile, Ais stared silently in the direction All For One had gone. "For a Level One," she murmured, her voice tinged with confusion, "he acted as if we weren't First-Class Adventurers."
Bete let out a laugh. "What, is the great 'War Princess' confused because the wimpy kid didn't run away from her?"
A faint blush crept across Ais's cheeks. "It's not that..." she replied softly, though even she wasn't convinced by her own words.
Bete had a point. Most people flinched or avoided her gaze entirely. Yet this boy had looked at her with something else entirely. Hatred? Disgust? She couldn't quite place it.
"Let's rejoin the others," Riveria ordered, already walking away. "They must be close by now."
Bete followed with a muttered "Tch," his thoughts still on the "albino bastard" who had dared to blackmail his Familia.
Ais cast one last glance in the direction All For One had gone. Her face betrayed no emotion, but a single thought lingered in her mind.
"What a strange person," she murmured, before following her comrades silently.
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The End
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Updated version: What's changed? Improved text and an added scene at the end that wasn't in the original version