A bounty? Nothing to worry about.
A price on my head just gives another reason for the desperate to sharpen their knives. So, when the Bug's voice echoed my bounty issued by one Tomoyasu Chikazoku. A name I'd never heard, but looking at the bounty ruling it says you can only place bounties on people that you have met before. So I guessed he was either that Geten dude or the other one... Trumpet. Or someone nearby was watching, would that count?
Whatever, it's just noise.
The sound of my shoes crunching against the pavement keeps me in the present. Two people had come after me within the previous days, two villains. They weren't really memorable, but thay were a little dangerous. I only killed them after they gave up all their chances to run and instead decided to continue attacking me.
My mind was on the rules of the game. A web of constraints that tighten with every passing moment. They're relentless, always shifting.
"I'll make it harder for anyone else then." I mused aloud, I would only need five more points. I plan on raising the price, every time someone wanted to add a rule they would need to give up more points than what they had spent last.
Then I'd have more time to search for those damn artifacts. Still two left, no one's found any? Seriously! All Might's gauntlet and a damn USB.
The latter would probably be the hardest to find. There wasn't much to tell it apart other than a small outline of a plant decorating it.
The sharp whiz of a bullet snaps me out of my thoughts, only to bring back darker ones. Reflex takes over—I twist to the side, feeling the air split just inches from my face. The shot buries itself in the wall behind me with a deafening crack, sending dust and debris flying.
Adrenaline surges as I dive for cover, sliding behind a crumbling car. My heart pounds against my ribs, but my mind's already calculating. That was too precise, too fast. Whoever fired that shot is a pro. They know what they are doing.
Peeking out, I scan the area, eyes darting between windows, rooftops, alleyways. Nothing. My gaze moved further to the skyscrapers ahead in the distance, and there—just for a second—I see her.
That far away. A figure framed in the shattered window of a high-rise. Purple hair catching the faint sunlight. Well-defined curves that strike a perfect balance between elegance and lethality.
"Lady Nagant," I muttered. She was on the news a few years ago for killing fellow heroes and trying to strike down a high ranking commission member. She's not just any random assassin. She's a legend. And she's hunting me.
I duck down, pressing my back against the car. My mind races. That building is far—too far. For a normal shot to travel that distance with such accuracy and speed? Impossible. Unless you're her. She's a living weapon, her quirk making her a sniper of unparalleled skill. And she set her sights on me. I'm in deep trouble.
I folded makeshift binoculars. Slowly, I carefully raise them to my eyes and peer through the gap in the wreckage.
The building looms in the distance, it's upper floors shattered and abandoned. Through the binoculars, I lock on to the window. There she is. Poised like a statue, her rifle—part of her body—resting effortlessly in her hands. Scanning, searching. Hunting.
Her purple hair flows down her back in a loose ponytail, a sharp contrast to her cold, calculating eyes. Even from here, I can feel the intensity of her focus. She's not just looking for a target. She's waiting for the perfect, lethal shot.
I lower the binoculars, my breath steady but shallow. She's far, yes, but the distance means nothing to her. I'm in her sights and she won't stop until she's taken me down.
I'm not scared—fear isn't useful—but I'm not stupid either. She's a hero that came out of nowhere and silently dominated the charts only for it to be revealed she has an incredibly high kill count. She's in a league of her own. Although Kobe had a theory on where she came from, it came to him while he was piecing some more clues about himself and the Eden Project.
At least with Abyss, you more than likely knew he was coming.
"Think Kobe," I muttered to myself, pressing my hand against my temple. "Trying to just run wouldn't be smart."
I glance around, taking in my surroundings. The streets was a maze of debris and abandoned vehicles. Shadows stretch long across the ground, offering cover but also concealing threats. The skyscraper is far, but not unreachable.
***
I exhaled, my breath curling in the cold air like smoke from a dying flame. My hands moved instinctively, folding paper into a slim blade. My mind churned through the possibilities of me reaching her, bridging the gap between us.
The building was at least five blocks away, and her perch was in the upper floors. She'd see me coming from a mile away.
That's fine. A challenge.
The distant hiss of wind mixed with the sporadic groan of the city. I had to move. I tucked the blade in my pocket, a stack of paper formed and darted out from my little shelter, sticking low to the ground.
The first step was cover. The streets offered little, but I had no intention of staying on the ground level. I reached a half crushed delivery truck and quietly scaled it's mangled frame, crouching atop it's roof. From here, I could see the remnants of an office building, it's roofs intact but its walls shattered in places, exposing it's skeletal beams.
Perfect.
I snapped my fingers, summoning a thing sheet of folded paper that coiled and twisted like a serpent. With a flick of my wrist, it wrapped itself around a nearby lamppost, forming a taut line. Testing the tension, I leapt, letting the paper zip-line me across the gap to the office building. The wind whipped past, and I landed with a muted thud, rolling to absorb the impact.
"Step one, down." I muttered, glancing back at the skyscraper. Still far but not impossible.
Navigating the office building was like threading a needle through glass. The floors were jagged, and the air was heavy with the stench of mildew and dust. I made my way to the highest point of the building, crouching low as I approached a shattered window. I could feel the air shift as I leaned out. The skyscraper loomed closer now, though still dauntingly out of reach.
"Step two." I whispered, pulling out more paper. This time, I folded rapidly, my fingers a blur. The result was a cluster of small, bird-like constructs, fragile yet efficient. One by one, they fluttered out, forming a loose network of thin lines that stretched toward the next structure: an abandoned monorail station suspended on skeletal tracks. I grabbed onto the nearest line, my constructs holding firm as I slid across.
Halfway through, a sharp crack split past the air. My instincts screamed, and I dropped, clinging to the line as the bullet whizzed past my head, tearing through one of the paper birds. The line sagged, but I held firm, twisting to dangle beneath it. I glanced toward the skyscraper, catching a faint glimmer of movement in the window. She was onto me.
"Not bad," I muttered, she was like Hawkeye.
With a sharp tug, I swing myself onto the monorail tracks, landing in a crouch. The station was crumbling, it's once-pristine metal rusted and warped. But it provided enough cover to obscure my movements. I darted inside, quickly assessing my next move.
The skyscraper was a block away now, separated by an expanse of open road. No way I'd cross that unscathed. My eyes scanned the station, landing on an old maintenance cart perched on the tracks. An idea sparked.
I set to work, folding sheets of paper into reinforced panels that I affixed to the carts frame. It wouldn't stop a sniper bullet, but it might deflect a glancing shot. Next I folded a set of massive, fan-like wings, attaching them to the cart's sides. A final touch, a coil of tightly packed paper serving as a spring-loaded propulsion system.
"Let's hope this works," I muttered, climbing into the makeshift vehicle. With a deep breath, I activated the spring. The cart lurched forward, gathering speed as it barreled down the tracks. The wind screamed in my ears, and I braced myself, keeping low as the cart hurtled toward the skyscraper.
Another crack. This time, the bullet pinged off one of the panels, tearing through a wing but leaving the cart intact. I gritted my teeth, my focus narrowing to the rapidly approaching building. Timing was everything.
At the last second, I leapt, using the cart's momentum to propel myself upward. My quirk flared, and I folded a massive paper platform beneath my feet, angling it like a ramp. The force launched me higher, sending me hurtling toward the skyscraper's lower floors.
Glass shattered as I crashed through a window, rolling to a stop inside a dimly lit corridor. The air was eerily still, and my breath came in ragged gasps. I rose slowly, brushing shards of glass from my jacket. My paper blade was already in my hand, it's paper edges lusting for blood.
"Three chances." I called out, my voice echoed in the quiet hallways. "That's all you get."
A low chuckle answered me, followed by the deliberate click of heels against the floor. Lady Nagant emerged from the shadows, her sniper rifle arm resting casually. Her purple hair framed a sharp, confident smile.
"Three chances? How magnanimous," she said, her voice dripping with mockery. "What are you, some kind of noble executioner? Or just another dog of the commission?"
The words struck a nerve, though I didn't let it show. "Dog of the commission? You're gonna have to elaborate on that," I said, keeping my tone even.
Instead of answering, she raised her rifle, and the fight began.
She fired, the bullet screaming toward me. I sidestepped, my paper blade slicing through the air to intercept it. The reinforced edge deflected the shot, though the force rattled my arm. She moved, disappearing into a side room.
I pursued, folding a series of small, paper drones that zipped ahead, scouting for her. One exploded as a bullet tore through it, revealing her position. I darted into the room, throwing a volley of paper shuriken's. They sliced through the air, embedding into walls and furniture, but she was already moving again.
The fight carried us across multiple floors. In one office space, I folded a series of barriers, using them as a cover while she fired relentlessly. Her precision was uncanny, each shot calculated to force me into disadvantageous positions. I countered by setting traps, tripwires made of nearly invisible paper strands, designed to slow her down. She triggered one, the wire snapping around her ankle. I lunged, closing the distance, but she twisted in midair, using her rifle like a staff to block my strike.
"You think you're clever?" She taunted, driving the butt of her rifle to my face. I ducked, spinning to sweep her legs, but she slipped backward, landing gracefully.
"I've had worse," I shot back, reforming my blade into a whip. The paper crackled as I lashed out, forcing her to retreated. The whip snared a desk, and I yanked it toward her. She vaulted over it, firing mid-leap. The bullet grazed my shoulder, drawing blood.
We moved into a stairwell, the narrow space amplifying the intensity. I folded the paper whip into a shield, deflecting another shot as I advanced. She retreated up the stairs, firing as she went. I followed, using my quirk to fold small platforms beneath my feet, accelerating my climb. When I reached the next floor, she was waiting, her rifle aimed.
"Last chance," I warned, my voice colder now. I was counting down in my head. Three strikes. Three warnings. She was nearing her limit.
She fired, and I ducked, rolling beneath the shot. My blade reforming in an instant, slashing toward her. She blocked with her rifle, the clash echoing through the empty office. My blade bit into the metal.
"Why do you care?" She demanded, her voice sharp. "Aren't you just another pawn for them. Another safety net?"
"I'm nobody's pawn," I growled, pushing her back. "And you're out of time."
With a final strike, I disarmed her, pinning her against a wall. My blade hovered inches from her throat.
"Who told you about me?" I asked, I was still interested in what she knows. "What was all of that about the 'commission's dog'?"
She hesitated, I pressed the paper blade deeper, enough to draw blood. "It was Daigo Kiyoshi." she admitted, finally, her voice low.
The creator of this game. She spoke to him? Was he in this game?
I said that last part out loud unknowingly. "No, he's not. He brought me to some separate space before being put in the game and told me about you being part of a commission run project similar to how I was."
And the beat in my head stopped. Silence reigned as my eyes widened. I wasn't incredibly surprised honestly. The Eden Project, a place where they were looking for All Might's replacement. Of course it would be run by the hero commission.
A part of me was a little too hopeful though, believing too much in the good of the people. Believing that people that literally monitor and serve hero society wouldn't be capable of something like that. They already are deep in the curriculum of many hero schools throughout the country.
So why...? Why would they conduct such experiments in secret?
And Nagant... she says she was part of it too.
I let her go, she stumbled forward to her knees and clutched her throat. A dry laugh escaped her lips. "You look a little surprised."
But if Daigo Kiyoshi knew... then does that mean he could also be a member of the same project as I? Or did he allow for it to be run.
"I am." I responded coldly, keeping up my act. I had decided not to kill her. "I don't remember seeing you though." I also don't remember anyone in the project called Daigo or any other suitable nickname.
"I was trained privately right out of middle school. I was an assassin who killed heroes that were up to no good, which essentially meant anything from doing actual bad to digging in a little too deep into the HPSC back yard."
Privately. So that meant she wasn't completely like me. "What about you?" She asked as she got up, wiping her face with her arm.
"I'd rather not get into my past all that much."
She scoffed. Her weapon arm disappearing into the look of a real arm. She went to sit on a broken desk across from me as I was thinking.
"So, are you with the commission or what?" She asked.
I thought it was obvious to tell. Another part of me began thinking. Did the commission have plans on having me back in their clutches again to fulfill their purpose for me? Would they have found a way to get me right on track to being a hero.
If they did. I'm not sure I even would have fought against it. Besides looking for a way to expose it, which I only came up with haphazardly one day, I had nothing.
There wasn't anything I really wanted.
"I'm not working for them. I was a part of some experiment by them a while ago though. And I've been searching for proof of it even existing."
The words I spoke were soft, I sounded almost defeated. For some reason my mind retreated to memories of Yui... I had never openly spoke about my past to anyone, but I find my mind oddly at peace with the thought of her eventually knowing.
"Is that gonna be your way of exposing them?" she asked me.
"What other way?"
"Storm their castle. Make them know you still exist along with all the crap they forced on you. Make your voice heard."
I sighed at that. For someone raised by the commission I didn't expect such a brutish answer. She laughed at my reaction.
"I was kidding. I know that would be stupid. Information is everywhere. You just need to grab hold of it and expose it." she muttered. "What outcome do you expect though? What do you want after the world see's what was done to you?"
I don't know. I didn't want to say that though, so I kept my mouth shut. She got the answer from that alone.
It was hard, thinking of a future beyond that. It was hard enough to think of me actually being able to expose them. And it was super hard for me to think of a future further than that, with an older version of me... doing what?
It was there again, a silent cry of nothingness from that same smaller version of me that appeared as I was fighting Abyss.
What was my greater purpose in this world?