He fell.
Stain had grabbed one of his wrists as they fell through the air, while his other hand was still clutching one of the Hero Killer's swords and the villain was quick to pin that one in place too. Neither grip was painful, but together, they were more than tight enough to stop him from activating his wings.
He did his best to punch at him, to pull away and pry his wrist loose, but for all the give he gave, Stain may as well have had grips made of solid steel, and the vicious-looking spikes that decorated his headband were enough motivation for Izuku to avoid going in for a headbutt.
In a final burst of desperation, he slipped his elbow up, using every ounce of force he was capable of generating to drive it into the top of Stain's head, and though the shock and surprise of the blow lasted for mere moments, it gave him the gap in concentration that he needed.
In an instant, a pair of giant wings unfurled from his back, snapping outwards in a flash of black and green. They were barely high enough for it to matter - they were falling fast - but the wind caught up with them just enough to slow their descent. It wasn't enough to let him glide, or even make a controlled fall, but when the moments of drag force combined with the durability of his armour, it was just enough to cushion the impact of the landing, keeping them alive as his back smashed into solid concrete and Stain landed atop him.
Moving more on instinct than conscious thought, Izuku kicked up, driving his knee into Stain's lower back and sending the Hero Killer sprawling away, before forcing himself to his knees and trying to take a deep breath.
His armour had managed to protect him, taking the bulk of the damage from their crash landing, but for the moment, he was winded, struggling to breathe, and he could already feel the bruises that were forming on his back.
He might not be dead or crippled, but he already knew that, come morning, walking would be a difficult endeavour.
"What the fuck?!"
"Did you see that?!"
"Hang on-"
"Is that-"
"It's the freaking Bat!"
Gritting his teeth, Izuku held in a groan. He'd just been tackled off a crane, fallen out of the sky and crash landed right beside the area where an illegal chemical delivery was taking place.
It had been loud.
And more importantly, it had been visible.
Naturally, the people responsible for the illegal chemical delivery that was taking place had noticed.
He needed to move.
"What do we-"
"Shoot the bastard!"
"Is that-"
"Shoot them already!"
"Hey! That's the Hero Killer!"
"OPEN FIRE!"
He needed to move, now.
One hand flew to his belt, as the other helped push himself to his feet. The quiet dock exploded with the noise of gunfire, as they began to unload, firing blindly into a cloud of dark smoke.
Securing the pouch on his belt, he took several steps back, moving out of the smoke's far side, in order to check on the state of his wings, now that he could see them clearly.
They were scuffed and would need some care later, but they had remained intact and would be safe to use.
His gaze turned skywards, and his mind was already at work planning the best route out of the gunfire and towards a new vantage point, when Stain reappeared.
The Hero Killer barrelled into him with the force of a linebacker, sword in hand, as he swung wildly, no doubt aiming to decapitate him with a vicious swipe, but Izuku didn't doubt that he'd be happy with landing any sort of blow. Throwing himself into a roll, he dodged sideways, but he was too slow to retract his wings, allowing Stain to carve a gash through the left wing, leaving most of it dangling down from his body and rendering the entire thing useless.
"You're not going anywhere, Hero. Not until you've proven your worth to me", he brought his sword up to his face, running it under his nose, breathing in the scent of the damage, lapping at it with his tongue, like a kitten, "or until I've culled you, just like I have all of the other fakes".
Beside them, the smoke that he'd created was already dissipating into the night air. Had they been inside, the cloud would have persisted, but out in the open air, it was too quick to waft away for prolonged use, and in just a few more moments, they'd be completely exposed once again.
He'd designed his smoke pellets to be used for quick escapes; to shock and disorient just long enough for him to escape or make a quick move. They weren't designed for prolonged use in an open setting, and worse than that, he didn't have very many tucked into his belt.
Thirteen men had arrived at the docks, each one being armed with some form of weapon; one police officer had also shown up; there could be as many as twenty men aboard the ship itself, every single one of which he had to assume was a hostile; and then, there were the initial dozen people that had already been present when the others arrived.
To make things even worse, the Hero Killer: Stain was still in his way.
And just to cap off his terrible situation, he now had no wings that he could use to fly away.
He was stuck.
Which meant he only really had one option to use.
"Argh!"
With a roar, he threw himself at Stain with all the ferocity of a jungle cat, and as he clasped his hands around the man's waist, he finally retracted the wings, while activating the rockets within his boots. The wings may have been damaged, but the rockets were still in working order, and they had no problems propelling the two of them into one of the many stacked containers that were stored behind them.
"UMPH!-"
Stain dropped his sword on impact, the stack behind them wobbling precariously, and Izuku wasted no time taking advantage of that, if the dock's manifest was up-to-date and correct, then the stack above them was made up of empty containers, so he reached up with a hiss of pain as the muscles of his back stretched, he pulled the containers down, dropping them directly above them, before pushing off, rolling out the way as they pinned the Hero Killer beneath them.
The suit enhanced his strength beyond what most men were capable of, but even with that, the containers had still felt as though they were empty. Behind his mask, he nodded to himself, as despite their lack of products, each one was still made of solid metal and their weight would be more than sufficient to pin Stain down long enough for him to arrange for the villain to be collected by the police.
His primary threat was dealt with.
Beyond that, he needed to deal with the thugs in the dock, and if they weren't already moving into the smoke to find him, then the noise of the container being dropped atop the Hero Killer would tell them exactly where he was now standing.
He had no wings. Project Hercules was safely tucked into a back alley several blocks away. Izuku was well-trained, and though he was confident that he could defeat any enemy, he'd be a complete idiot if he blindly charged at what could be up to fifty armed gunmen without a plan.
Seeing no other recourse, his gaze swung behind him, towards the mass stacks of metal containers.
and with no other recourse, his gaze turned towards the mass of containers behind him, and he slipped into the maze.
He didn't wait for the thugs to work out what had happened.
If the noise hadn't told them, the fallen containers would.
Either way, he wasn't waiting around for them to realise where he was now standing.
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
Sutoraika had expected trouble, but they'd only been prepared for one nutjob, not two. Still, at least the Bat had had the courtesy to bury the other guy beneath a mountain of metal.
"Get your crap out of here", he told the Knights, before raising his voice, "OKAY BOYS! LET'S GET HUNTING!"
He shrugged off his jacket, not wanting it to get in the way of his Quirk, as the Knights got back into their vans. Sutoraika only got paid if the product made it out of the docks, so while they were busy hauling ass, he reached into the pockets of his jeans, reaching for his own weapon of choice.
The pair of polished brass knuckles kept within.
A gift from his father, given to him on the day he became a man, which just so happened to be the same day he offed the bastard and took them from his dead hands. Combined with his Quirk, they'd made both of his fists into lethal weapons, and tonight, that bat-freak was going to learn that fact first hand.
"Alright then, gentlemen", he grinned, as some of his men twirled bats, knives and a few of them swung chains, and they moved towards the metal maze, "happy hunting".
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
"The vans?"
"Already leaving. Did you manage to tag them?"
"Negative", he growled, "do what you can".
"Tracking their licence plates and the vans themselves on cameras, but if they're smart, they'll change the plates. I'm pulling up satellite images of the docks now, setting the computer to track them from on high, but I'm looking at you right now".
"Numbers?"
"Hard to be precise from here, but it looks like those that came with the vans are leaving. The ship hands are falling back inside. You've got a dozen men following you. I can't tell you what they're bringing with them. You want to know weapons and Quirks, you're going to have to get eyes on and hope that they have records I can access. If you want my advice, get out of there. There's a road directly east of you. Get there, get into the Batmobile-"
"Project Hercules".
"-the BATMOBILE, and go after the drugs instead".
"Car's in the wrong direction though. It'll take too long".
"I'll bring it round for you".
He stopped for a moment, "Bring it round?"
"Yes, I'll remotely drive it to your position".
"You can do that?"
"Just who exactly do you think you're talking to".
"The World's Greatest Engineer?"
"Among other things, yes", in his mind's eye, he could clearly see the grin on her face, as she added on the amused, "and don't you forget it, Mister Bat-Man".
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
Taking a breath to steady himself, Izuku pressed his body flat across the top of one of the storage containers, moving slowly, as he surveyed the bounty before him.
Thirteen men.
One with a chain.
Five who held baseball bats.
Three who held knives.
Three who were carrying guns.
And one guy, obviously the leader, who seemed to have nothing more than a pair of brass knuckles covering his hands.
He needed to play this smart. Separate them, and pick them off, preferably one-by-one, but at the very least, in small groups. Start with the guns, then the others, and remember to watch out for the Quirks. He had no idea what any of them could do.
Based on police statistics, most criminal Quirks fell into three categories: destructive, minor and heteromorphic. They were either so dangerous that people considered them inherently villainous, and they were ostracised for it; they were so minor and inconsequential that they barely did anything, and they were ostracised for it; or they had animalistic and inhuman traits and abilities, and they were ostracised for it.
As a vigilante, he could fight the criminal element all night long.
As a normal man, he had no idea how to fight systemic racism.
As a businessman, he could ensure that his company had blind hiring practices; he could ensure that DEKU Enterprises was inclusive and above board, but he couldn't force every other company to do the same.
It felt like a losing battle, but if he didn't try and fight it, who would?
"You can just leave".
Melissa. Melissa probably would.
"Negative", he murmured, keeping his voice as low as possible, "I want to sweep these guys off the board".
"Batmobile in position. Just give them the slip".
He held back his urge to sigh - he already knew that he wasn't going to be able to get rid of that particular moniker for Project Hercules anytime soon - "Negative", he repeated, "each one of these guys taken out means safer streets for everyone else".
"You're… not exactly wrong, but the vans are getting away!"
"Don't lose them".
"You haven't tagged them! This will all go smoother if you tag them now or better. Let the KPPD handle these guys".
"No", he snapped, "I'm handling this first".
"Izuku-"
"No names on the comms", he hissed, "it's time to get to work. Cut the chatter".
"Fine…", he could hear her tone as she bit back whatever else she wanted to say to him, the words no doubt caustic, "Oracle out".
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
"Alright, spread out and find him", one of them called out, the one with the brass knuckles, who was absently rubbing a pair of them against his t-shirt, "I'm betting that there'll be a bonus in it for whoever catches our little freakshow".
The other guys called back with whoops, whistles and cheers, as they split off into teams. The leader marched off with three of them at his back, while the others split up, forming groups that they were at least somewhat accustomed to. He had to fight back the urge to grin when he tock stock of the teams they had broken up into.
It appeared that when the men had brought their weapons with them, they'd done so in groups.
There was no other reason for the three men with handguns to be grouped together.
It made no sense otherwise. The potential for Quirks aside, they were the only three guaranteed ranged options that the group had, and even if some of the others had ranged, offensive-capable Quirks, guns were still quicker, easier and took less effort to use. Those three men should've been split up and spread out, shared among the other teams.
Instead, they had stuck together.
Still, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth, because for his needs, that was perfect.
Reaching into one of the pouches at the back of his utility belt, he slipped some of his shuriken into his hands, rising to his feet, until he was crouched atop the container above them. Two in each of his hands, he prowled silently after them, until he was practically standing on top of them.
He felt the power in his coiled muscles, waiting, like the tiger ready to pounce, as he gave the others more time to get away and mentally, he counted himself down.
Five… four… three… two… one…
NOW!
He leapt into the air, becoming the shadow above them.
"He's he-ugh!"
"It's him!"
"H-ack!"
With an ease born of a thousand hours of practice, he rolled his wrists, letting the shuriken loose.
Guns and heads, they found their marks in two of the men, as he landed atop the third, crushing him beneath his body's weight.
Before he gave the other two time to recover, he crossed the distance between them, knocking the second one out with a powerful uppercut, knocking him off his feet, his head snapping backwards and cracking against one of the metal containers, while the third man fell to the spinning heel of his boot.
Already, he could hear the pounding of feet against the floor as the others raced towards him, his position now compromised, and he had little time to clean up after himself. Abandoning the shuriken, he instead chose to gather the guns, knowing that if he left them there, someone else would only pick them up to wield.
Gritting his teeth, he made use of the suit's enhanced strength to help bend them along their barrels. As they were only handguns, with barrels barely longer than his hands, they were easy to render unusable, before he forcibly ejected the magazines, catching them in his off hand, before tossing them over the containers, sending them flying as far away as he could manage.
With help from his suit's strength enhancements, they'd hopefully go far enough to land in the water and be rendered useless for anyone to use.
From there, he leapt back up to the container tops, doing his best to find somewhere to regroup, and just as he moved to leap across the gap, a chain wrapped itself around his ankle, yanking him backwards and causing him to collide with the edge of the container, the air rushing from his lungs.
"Oomph!"
His ribs really were going to be sore in the morning.
He fell to the ground, instinctually rolling over, as his right hand slipped behind his back to grab another of his shuriken, while his left hand grabbed the chain that had wrapped itself around his ankle, pulling it as taught as he could manage, before bringing his weapon down and slicing cleanly through the chain links with little effort, having made sure to personally hone his shuriken to a razor's edge. Tossing the cut part of the chain aside, he pushed himself back to his feet, while his gaze followed the chain back to its wielder, and Izuku watched, impressed, as the chain moved with very little effort on his part.
The work of a Quirk, no doubt.
Behind him, a group of his friends rounded the corner, drawing his eye for only a moment, but that was all Izuku needed.
He didn't hesitate.
His arm snapped out, the same shuriken that had just cut him free flew across the gap, driving itself into his forehead. There were drops of blood already dripping down his face as he fell backwards, the force of the impact having knocked him out in an instant.
"Hey, are-"
"IT'S HIM!"
"There he is!"
"Get him!"
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
He slipped over an extra set of crates, managing not to stumble, even as his ribs twinged with each stretch of his torso. He'd used up one of his smoke bombs and five of his shuriken, leaving him with just three smoke bombs and nine more shuriken to use up, as well as his emergency beacon, which was tucked into the back of his belt, sitting directly atop the base of his spine.
The same emergency beacon that had never been tested outside of a single instance of controlled conditions within the safety of a lab.
Hopefully, today was not the day.
With a quick glance that his area was clear, he dropped down into one of the alleys created by the containers and gently pressed his fingers against his ribcage.
Bruised, he noted, but the lack of swelling and pain proved to him that they weren't broken. An icepack and eight hours of rest would set him right.
He just had to deal with these other idiots first.
If he took them out now, which would take them off the streets in the interim, hopefully, it would also make some, if not all of them, reconsider their life choices - especially in a few days, when news came out that the new storage division of DEKU Enterprises was looking for local workers to hire.
They were offering excellent healthcare insurance.
And after tonight, some of these men were going to need it.
He had smoke bombs to disorientate, shuriken to disarm and disable, and then his fists and feet would do the rest of the work for him.
Nodding to himself, he leapt straight up, his suit enhancing the force of the leap, as he landed atop the container, the silicone of his boot soles helping to absorb the bulk of the noise, as he looked for a vantage point from where he could plan out his attack.
It would have been easy to leave the men behind; to slip across the metal maze and try and pick up the trail of Trigger, but even just the idea of leaving the men out and able to do harm made his stomach want to lurch in rebellion.
Oracle's idea came from a place of valid concern; she was weighing the men he was up against the many future victims that could come from the Trigger that would hit the streets. It was smart, but she'd failed at thinking through to the end, when the Trigger supply ran out and they tried to import more.
She wanted the manufacturer's hurt and the number of future dealings to be decreased.
Izuku wanted the importers so scared that they would be too afraid to even think of bringing in more chemicals to begin with.
Like he'd told Oracle, it was time for him to get to work.
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
The suit made him strong, but Izuku knew that it was his training that made him the hunter instead of the quarry, whenever he walked into a new environment. Knowledge of your opponent, of the terrain and of your own capabilities were all far more important, and more valuable, than the ability to fly or punch solid steel.
His suit of body armour, which had been upgraded with the latest advances in just about every field of technology that Izuku and Melissa had an understanding of, until it was capable of not only mimicking, but also exceeding their calculations on the power output capabilities of Pro Heroes. Even the enhanced strength aspect had been built upon an idea Melissa had once had for her to learn to operate as a Pro Heroine, similar to her beloved, "Uncle Might".
Izuku had focused on the Pro Heroes of Japan when designing its abilities, including All Might, Hawks and Best Jeanist: three of the finest Pro Heroes, (at least in terms of skill), that Japan had ever produced.
And now, when he added the capabilities of the suit to his training?
He wasn't just the hunter.
He was their predator.
And these people?
They were his prey.
And it was time that they learned that.
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
With the guns and the chains already taken out, he felt that there was not any particular order that made for his best choice. The remaining nine men had split up into three teams of three: one group were carrying knives in their hands, one group carried baseball bats and in the final group, two of the men had bats while the third guy, who was obviously their leader, was wearing a pair of brass knuckles.
As far as he was concerned, the knives were more dangerous than the baseball bats, so he crept along after their group first, dropping down to the floor, as he used the corners of the metal containers for cover.
They thought they were being clever.
One guy was staying on the ground, covering the others, as every time they walked a few metres along, they would stop to grip the edge of the containers, momentarily pulling themselves up and scanning along the tops of the towers, no doubt looking for him.
They'd see him come down from above twice now, and mentally, they were convinced that that was strategy; that he would come along after them and drop down from above.
They hadn't considered the fact that he could change his strategy and as he moved towards them, crouched, his shadow hidden in the low light of the night, he mentally shook his head at their lack of foresight.
They were smart enough to know that he could use the containers to gain an advantage over them, but not smart enough to realise that he do the exact opposite.
He grabbed his first man.
His right arm clamped around the man's neck, squeezing in from the sides, while he brought his left hand up to cover his mouth and nose, preventing any noise from escaping. Most people didn't realise that the most effective way to choke a person into unconsciousness wasn't to cut off their body's supply of air, but instead, cut off the flow of blood to their brains. It didn't last very long and only took a few seconds to apply, but in the hands of a novice, the technique could be deadly.
Izuku had the hands of a master.
Five to ten seconds was all it took.
The man in his hands lasted six, before he was laying him gently down on the ground and quickly crossing the few steps needed to reach the others, who were lowering themselves back down to the ground.
"Not here- OOMPH".
"Nah, not here either- WH-"
In one motion, he slammed both of his hands forward, his palms meeting the backs of their heads, as he slammed them, face first, into the container they had been using.
He didn't bother to catch them, letting their bodies hit the floor, as he heard someone yell out a short distance away, already moving back to the first men, who was stirring awake.
"Huh- wha-"
Dropping to a knee, he slammed his fist into his face, leaving him unconscious once again.
By the time the other groups arrived, the Yokohama Vigilante had already taken their knives and disappeared into the shadows.
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
The two groups had apparently realised that separating themselves into smaller groups was just making it easier to pick them off, and had instead merged into a single, larger team, capable of guarding themselves from every direction at once.
They'd also moved out of the maze created by the stacks of containers and had regrouped in the docking area. The vans were gone, along with their illicit substances, and the boat seemed quiet, with no one out on deck.
If he had to guess, (and he hated guessing; guesses led to assumptions and assumptions led to mistakes), then the sailors had retreated below decks for safety and would likely remain there.
That left him with just six people that he needed to deal with.
The smart play would be to leave; to do as Oracle had suggested and let the KPPD, who would now be en route to their location, Oracle herself having alerted them, but Izuku recoiled at the idea of letting even one of these men escape.
They belonged to him.
The docking area was lit by six large floodlights, provided the entire area with plenty of light, but a well-aimed blow to their heads should serve to take out the entire lighting column.
The problem was, once he used up his shuriken, he'd have no other ranged weapons to hand, and taking out the lights would cost him the element of surprise. Even if they couldn't tell where he was, they'd still know he was there and their bodies would go on high alert.
But if he could make them afraid?
Fear was the most powerful in his arsenal.
He had nine shuriken left and six lights.
Hidden beneath the metal teeth of his, Izuku's lips slanted upwards in a vicious smirk, as he reached for his weapons once more.
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
Who the hell was this guy?
Sutoraika felt as though he was an old pro at doing what he did: protection, security, guarding - whatever you wanted to call it; he wasn't even thirty yet, but he'd been around long enough to think that he'd seen it all.
The Bat wasn't the first guy to take a crack at Yokohama since All Might had bit the big one. Oh, some Pro Hero or another vowed to clean them up once every two or three years; they'd swear to do it 'in the name of justice', or 'in honour of All Might', but all that usually happened was that they got a momentary boost in popularity from the attempt, before giving up when they realised that, by now, Yokohama belonged to the crooks and there was no Symbol of Peace around to change it for them. Then they'd scupper off, tails tucked between their legs, back to their lives of mediocre obscurity, while guys like him kept grinding, making money.
He'd expected the Bat to be just like them.
When he'd heard the stories about a new vigilante popping up, he'd almost laughed. 'New Year, New Vigilante', his boys had joked. They popped up less often than the actual Pros, but they tended to be more violent. Usually, they'd target someone specifically and usually, it was personal. From there, all it took was your normal ambush to reel the kid in, (it was usually a dumb kid), and then they'd be beaten to death to make an example out of him, for anyone else out there, who had aspersions of trying to shake things up.
The Bat was different though.
He wasn't targeting anyone.
He was targeting everyone.
Petty theft, assault, drugs, sex workers: the Bat had it in for all of them.
Sutoraika didn't know who had crawled up his ass and forced him to act like some kind of saviour, but Yokohama didn't need saving, it was doing just fine on its own and he sure as hell wasn't going to let some kind of mutie, force him out of his city.
He'd cave the bastard's face in first.
Yeah, he mused, this time, he'd be the one to make an example out the vigilante. He'd make sure that everyone knew that he'd been the one to carve him up and make sure that his name was the one being spoken about, all hush-hush and frightened.
*Hiss…*
"What the hell…"
He heard the smoke before he saw it, thick and dark grey, covering the area in front them, leaving them blind, but telling them where the Bat was.
"Get ready boys, we're-"
"Shit!"
Above them, the lights exploded one-by-one, all six of them shattering, causing glass to rain down upon them, leaving them covering their heads, as he finally appeared.
The Bat.
He emerged out of the smoke, and Sutoraika knew that he wasn't the only one who swallowed. He was tall, dark and imposing, shrouded in smoke and shadow, his ears long and pointed, while he caught of glimpse of something shining, and realised faintly that the man must've had metal where his teeth should've been.
What the hell had they pissed off?
He tried to come up with the encouragement to attack. If they all rushed him and went in swinging, then they'd have more than just a chance, but the words stuck in his throat.
One of his guys, he couldn't tell who rushed into the smoke, creaming wildly as he swung his bat. The vigilante ducked, seeming to disappear in the smoke for just a moment, and then, so too did their man.
The he reappeared.
He launched himself forwards, tackling the front man, moving too quickly for them to make him out; his blows broke their bones and their weapons, hitting their temples, their joints and their jaws, until the others were left a moaning mess on the floor, but the Bat had missed him and desperate, he activated his Quirk, lashing out with a punch to the freakshow's side and sending him careening sideways.
He'd landed the first blow, he realised, at the exact same moment that he realised that he was now standing alone.
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
The suit had once again protected him from damage, but even with the armoured plates, Izuku had still felt that punch and could still feel the throb of just where he had been hit. The force had caused him to roll away, missing out on a retaliatory strike, but now all he had left to deal with was the leader.
"Soichiro Sutoraika", Oracle's voice came alive in his ear, "local gang boss. Got a record stretching back to his teens, mostly petty theft and assault. Quirk: Striking Motion. Once activated, he'll keep punching until he hits a target".
He made sure stealth mode was still active, which silenced his voice from everyone that wasn't wired into his cowl, "Any reinforcements on the hands or arms?"
"None".
"Then let's dance".
Raising a hand, he twitched his fingers twice in a 'come get it' motion and waited.
He wasn't left waiting long.
Sutoraika was hopped up on a combination of anger, fear, desperation and any chemical substances that he may have chosen to imbibe that afternoon.
Not a smart thing to do.
Doing all of that before getting into a fight?
A dumb thing to do.
Activating his Quirk?
Izuku grinned.
Even dumber.
Moving backwards, he dropped the last of his smoke on the ground at his feet, letting it grow thicker and obscure him further, buying more time.
Izuku made sure to remain upright, making sure that he was still visible, as Sutoraika followed after him, his arms lashing out like machines on repeat, as he half-walked, half-jogged after the vigilante, thinking he was gaining ground, right up until the moment, he darted forwards and ducked down.
Oracle had given him the weakness of Sutoraika's Quirk, when she said that he had to hit something; that he had no reinforcements; and as he slipped past the other man, he nudged him forwards, just far enough that his Quirk meant that his next punch landed straight against one of the containers.
Crack!
Beneath his mask, his grin turned vicious, as he registered the sound of one of Sutoraika's hands breaking, as a fist of flesh and bone met steel and steel came out victorious.
For Sutoraika, his Quirk deactivating after achieving its goal, and the pain fogging up his brain left him feeling foggy, as the vigilante reappeared at his side, and before he fell into unconsciousness, the only sensation he felt, was that of his other wrist breaking too.
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
"Bring the car around".
"Already on its way".
"KPPD?"
"Less than a minute".
He nodded slightly, able to hear the sirens in the quiet of the night, "Do they know-"
"That a Trigger deal went down? That one of their own is on the take? Or that the Hero Killer is there? Yes, yes and yes".
"Good", he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment, tonight had been hard work, "alright then, let's-"
"IZUKU! LOOK OUT!"
A stabbing pain erupted in his shoulder and he opened his eyes to finally lay eyes upon the grinning face of the Bloodletter, as she did her best to dig her knife deeper into his shoulder, her eyes alight with manic glee.
Carmine had arrived.
===== ===== ===== ===== =====
Author's Note
The chapter title, 'Predator', is a reference not only to Izuku's role in hunting down the thugs in this chapter, but also his being hunted by Stain and Carmine, as well as the Predator Encounters found in the 'Batman: Arkham' video game series.
There's a small mention of one of Izuku's trainers challenging him to a sparring match that lasted over eighty-three hours. Star Wars: Episode VI - Return of the Jedi was released in 1983.
During the section on his thoughts, Sutoraika thinks of the Yokohama Vigilante as a 'mutie'. This is an in-universe insult for someone who has a heteromorphic Quirk and comes from the word 'mutant', which is (in-universe), a very outdated way to refer to someone with such a Quirk. It's considered insulting and Quirkist.