The Gargoyle Peaks became a silent, deadly hunting ground. Katsuki, reveling in the lethal efficiency of his new "Explode: Frictionless" techniques, systematically dismantled the gargoyle flock. His Frictionless AP Shots, near-invisible streaks of pure kinetic death, punched through stone hides and vital cores with terrifying ease, each kill clean, precise, and almost soundless save for the hiss of its launch and the subsequent clatter of falling stone. The gargoyles, accustomed to being the apex predators of these desolate peaks, were thrown into panicked disarray, unable to comprehend the source of the attacks that were picking them off one by one.
He moved with the same frictionless grace he used for flight, his feet barely seeming to touch the jagged rock as he darted from cover to cover, a phantom of vengeance amidst the crags. The micro-explosions rippling across his skin made him an almost untouchable blur.
But as the numbers of the gargoyles dwindled, as their initial panic gave way to a desperate, cornered fury, Katsuki decided it was time to switch tactics. The silent takedowns were effective, brutally so, but a part of him, the part that reveled in overwhelming, explosive dominance, craved something more… visceral. It was time to truly unleash his "Cluster Style."
"Alright, you stone-faced freaks," he snarled, a wild, almost joyful glint in his crimson eyes as he finally broke cover, launching himself towards the remaining half-dozen gargoyles who had clustered together on a wide, windswept plateau. "Had enough of hide-and-seek? Let's DANCE!"
He rocketed towards them, not with the silent grace of his frictionless flight, but with the roaring, concussive fury of his standard Explosive Turbo, the sudden sound and fury a deliberate shock tactic. The gargoyles shrieked, their leathery wings beating as they prepared to meet his charge.
He met them in a whirlwind of savage, close-quarters combat. This was where his Cluster Style, born from a grudging acknowledgment of Deku's innovation but forged in the crucible of his own explosive power, would truly shine.
He ducked under a sweeping claw from the lead gargoyle, his body low, then exploded upwards with a kick that would have made a pro martial artist weep. "Cluster Style: Impact Flare!" A concentrated blast erupted from the sole of his boot as it connected with the underside of the gargoyle's jaw, sending its stone head snapping back with a sickening crack, its heavy body flipping end over end.
Before it even hit the ground, Katsuki was already pivoting, his other leg lashing out in a savage roundhouse. "Cluster Style: Concussion Kick!" Another gargoyle, attempting to flank him, took the full force of the explosive kick to its ribs, the impact caving in its stony torso and sending it spiraling into a nearby rock face with enough force to embed it there.
He moved like a storm, a dervish of flailing limbs and precisely timed explosions. His hands were free, sometimes used to parry or redirect, but his primary weapons were his legs, each kick a devastating payload delivery system. He launched himself off the ground with explosive stomps, spun through the air with controlled blasts from his heels and insteps, each movement seamless, powerful, and utterly destructive.
One gargoyle managed to rake its claws across his arm, drawing blood, the fabric of his new work clothes tearing. Katsuki just snarled, the pain a welcome stimulant. He responded with a brutal axe kick, bringing his heel down on the creature's skull with an explosive force that shattered it like porcelain. "Cluster Style: Skull Cracker!"
He saw two more attempting to take flight, to escape the carnage. "Not so fast, you bastards!" He leaped high into the air, and with two swift, successive kicks, unleashed his ranged attack. "Cluster Style: Lit Fuse! Lit Fuse!" Two crescent waves of crackling explosive energy shot out, clipping the wings of the fleeing gargoyles, sending them tumbling back to the plateau with agonized screeches.
He landed amongst them, a predator surrounded by wounded, terrified prey. There was no mercy in his eyes, only a cold, focused fury. The beatdown that followed was brutal, methodical, an absolute annihilation. He used every variation of his Cluster Style he'd conceived, each kick a punctuation mark in a symphony of destruction.
When it was finally over, Katsuki stood amidst the wreckage, panting, his body aching, fresh cuts and bruises adorning his skin, but his spirit was soaring. The plateau was a scene of utter devastation, littered with the shattered, smoking remains of the gargoyle flock. It wasn't just a beatdown; it was, as he internally, savagely exulted, a murder. A complete and utter eradication of the threat, executed with overwhelming, undeniable power.
He stood there for a moment, the wind whipping his ash-blond hair, a fierce, almost terrifying grin on his face. He felt… alive. More alive than he had in days. This was what he was made for. This sheer, unadulterated expression of his power, this assertion of his dominance.
With a grunt, he began to collect his proofs of subjugation – a few of the larger, distinctively carved stone talons from the more intact remains. As he did so, a familiar, almost theatrical persona, one he hadn't truly allowed himself to indulge since arriving in this world, began to surface in his mind, a name that encapsulated his destructive prowess, his explosive ego.
He looked out over the ravaged landscape, the setting sun casting long, bloody shadows. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, escalating into a full-blown, maniacal laugh that echoed across the desolate peaks.
"Yeah…" he roared to the empty, windswept mountains, his voice filled with a wild, almost unhinged triumph. "That's how it's done! Courtesy of yours truly… the Great Explosion Murder God DYNAMIGHT!"
The name, his chosen hero name from his own world, felt right. It felt earned, here in the aftermath of such total, uncompromising victory. He might be lost, he might be in an alien world, but he was still, and always would be, Dynamight. And the monsters of Fiore, and anyone else who dared to stand in his way, would learn to fear that name.
With his trophies secured, and his spirit ablaze with a renewed sense of his own formidable identity, he launched himself into the twilight sky, his Quirk-powered Turbo Cluster leaving a fiery orange trail as he began the journey back to Fairy Tail, back to the next step in his relentless, explosive journey. He was no longer just Katsuki Bakugo, the lost boy. He was Dynamight, and he had work to do.
---
The Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, still buzzing with the adrenaline of his decisive victory and the cathartic reclamation of his hero identity, landed not-so-gently outside the Fairy Tail guild hall as night began to fully envelop Magnolia. He strode in, the scent of stone dust and faint, acrid smoke clinging to him, his new work clothes bearing fresh tears and scuffs – badges of honor from his recent 'dance' with the gargoyles.
The guild was in full swing, the evening revelry at its peak. His entrance, as usual, caused a minor stir, but Katsuki was on a mission. He bypassed the curious stares and headed straight for the bar, where Mirajane was expertly managing the flow of drinks and conversation.
He slammed the handful of carved stone gargoyle talons onto the counter, along with the crumpled job slips he'd taken for the Gargoyle Peaks. "Done," he announced, his voice still carrying a residual edge of exhilaration. "And clear my tab from earlier. Food and the damn clothes."
Mirajane smiled, her eyes twinkling as she took in his energized, if slightly battered, state. "Another successful series of hunts, Dynamight-san?" she asked, using his self-proclaimed moniker with a playful lilt that made him scowl, though there was no real heat in it. She efficiently processed his earnings, deducted the cost of his meal and the work clothes, and then pushed a substantial pile of Jewel notes towards him.
Katsuki looked at the money, then at Mirajane. A thought, surprisingly pragmatic and tinged with a newfound, if grudging, trust, occurred to him. Carrying this much cash around was a pain, and he was still a ways off from the astronomical sum Heart Kreuz required.
"Oi, Mira," he said, his tone gruff. "Hold onto this for me." He pushed the entire pile of Jewel back towards her. "And whatever I earn from now on. Keep a running tally. You're the guild's… logistician, right? Or something." He trusted her efficiency, her calm competence. He certainly wasn't going to entrust his hard-earned cash to some random bank in this strange world, and the idea of Makarov managing it was laughable. "The Master…" He made a face, a mixture of disdain and amusement. "…he keeps getting drunk and making that goofy, sentimental face. Can't trust him with a damn thing that involves numbers."
Mirajane's eyes widened slightly at his request, then her smile broadened into one of genuine warmth and perhaps a touch of surprise at his candid, if backhanded, assessment of Makarov. "I'd be happy to hold onto your earnings for you, Bakugo-san," she said, neatly stacking the notes and placing them in a secure lockbox beneath the counter. "I'll keep a precise ledger. Consider Fairy Tail's bar your personal, very secure, savings account." She winked. "And you're right, the Master's accounting skills do tend to… fluctuate with his beverage intake."
With his finances (temporarily) sorted, Katsuki's attention immediately snapped back to the Request Board. He felt good, his Quirk humming, his body surprisingly resilient after the gargoyle hunt. He was ready for more. His eyes scanned the parchments, bypassing the usual monster hunts, his gaze searching for something… different. Something that resonated with his 'Dynamight' persona.
And then he saw it. Tucked away in a corner, on a darker piece of parchment marked with a stark, crossed-out guild emblem, was a request that made his blood sing: 'Dark Guild Subjugation: Annihilation of the 'Iron Vulture' syndicate operating in the abandoned Sunken City of Eldoria. Extreme prejudice authorized. High reward.'
Dark Guild. Annihilation. His kind of thing.
A savage grin, the grin of the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, spread across Katsuki's face. This wasn't just about hunting mindless beasts for cash anymore. This was about dismantling an organization, about bringing his explosive justice to those who preyed on others, who operated outside the rules. This was a hero's work, even if it was framed in the stark, uncompromising language of a Fairy Tail request.
He ripped the parchment from the board with a decisive tug. He didn't even need to show it to Mirajane for approval this time; she'd seen him take it, seen the predatory gleam in his eyes. She simply nodded, her expression a mixture of understanding and a silent prayer for the unfortunate souls of the Iron Vulture syndicate.
"Sunken City of Eldoria, huh?" Katsuki muttered to himself, already visualizing the tactical possibilities. A dark guild hideout, likely filled with scumbags who thought they were tough. They were about to get a serious, explosive reality check.
He turned, already heading for the door, his new purpose clear, his energy renewed. He didn't need his super-armor for this. His Quirk, his Cluster Style, and the sheer, unadulterated fury of Dynamight would be more than enough. The Iron Vultures of Eldoria had no idea what was about to hit them. And Katsuki couldn't wait to deliver the message.
Katsuki was halfway to the guild doors, his mind already strategizing the annihilation of the Iron Vulture syndicate, when Mirajane's playful use of his hero name finally registered, cutting through his focus with the sharpness of a Frictionless AP Shot. He skidded to a halt, his boots scraping on the wooden floor, and spun around, his crimson eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, fixing Mirajane with an incredulous, accusatory glare.
"Oi! Barmaid!" he snapped, his voice reverting to its familiar aggressive rasp, any hint of their earlier, more civil exchange forgotten. "How the FUCK did you hear my name, 'Dynamight'?!" He jabbed a thumb towards the distant Gargoyle Peaks. "I was literally KILOMETERS away when I said that! Screaming it at a bunch of dead stone freaks! There's no way you heard that from here!"
His mind raced. Had someone followed him? Spied on him? The thought was infuriating. He prided himself on his situational awareness, on his ability to detect threats. The idea that someone could have been observing him without his knowledge, especially during a moment of such… personal exultation, was a galling intrusion. He hadn't seen or sensed anyone. Team Natsu had been watching during the Oppenheimer Smash incident, he knew that much from their subsequent panicked appearance, but the Gargoyle Peaks? He'd been sure he was alone.
The guild hall, which had been buzzing with its usual evening energy, fell into a sudden, expectant silence. All eyes turned towards the bar, towards the confrontation brewing between their explosive newcomer and their unflappable, white-haired demon-in-disguise.
Mirajane Strauss, however, merely blinked, her serene smile not faltering in the slightest under Katsuki's fiery gaze. She tilted her head, an expression of innocent curiosity on her face, though her eyes danced with a mischievous light that only those who knew her well would recognize.
"Dynamight, Bakugo-san?" she repeated, as if the name were a pleasant, if unexpected, revelation. "Oh, my! Is that a new title you've acquired? It sounds very… powerful. Very fitting, I must say." She placed a delicate finger to her lips, feigning thoughtfulness. "As for how I heard it… well, you know, sound can travel in peculiar ways in Fiore, especially when carried on the wind from mountainous regions. And you do have a rather… resonant voice when you're feeling enthusiastic."
Katsuki's scowl deepened. He wasn't buying her innocent act for a second. "Resonant voice? Bullshit! That was a goddamn mountain range away! You got ears like a bat, or are you some kind of secret spy satellite?" He took a step closer to the bar, leaning in, his aura crackling with suspicion. "Spill it. Who told you? Was it that damn talking cat? Or one of those other idiots?" He glared around the guild hall, daring anyone to confess.
Natsu, who had been stuffing his face with a chicken leg, froze mid-bite, looking guilty despite having no idea what Katsuki was talking about this time. Lucy subtly tried to shrink behind Gray, who just looked confused.
Mirajane chuckled, a light, musical sound that did little to diffuse Katsuki's irritation. "Oh, no one told me, Bakugo-san. Let's just say that Fairy Tail has its ways of… keeping informed about the noteworthy accomplishments of its members, especially those who make such a… dynamic impact." She winked, deliberately using the word.
Then, her expression shifted slightly, a hint of her true, formidable nature peeking through the sweet facade. "Besides," she added, her voice dropping to a softer, more confidential tone, though it still carried an undeniable undercurrent of authority, "as the one currently managing your rather substantial and rapidly growing savings, Bakugo-san, it's only prudent that I keep abreast of your… professional appellations. Helps with the bookkeeping, you know. 'Earnings for the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight' has a certain ring to it, don't you think?"
She smiled, a dazzling, slightly predatory smile this time. "Let's just say, Bakugo-san, that very little happens concerning Fairy Tail mages, especially ones as… memorable… as yourself, that doesn't eventually reach my ears. Consider it one of the perks, or perhaps perils, of being part of this rather interconnected family."
Katsuki stared at her, momentarily speechless. Her explanation was infuriatingly vague, yet delivered with such calm, unshakeable confidence that he found himself… stymied. She wasn't denying it; she was practically reveling in her access to information. He still didn't know how she knew, but the fact that she knew, and was so blithely unconcerned about his reaction, was a stark reminder that this guild, and its seemingly sweet-natured barmaid, were far more complex and perhaps far more capable than he often gave them credit for.
He let out a frustrated 'Tch!', a sharp, explosive sound. "Whatever, you damn gossip network," he snarled, though some of the heat had gone out of his accusation. He was still annoyed, still suspicious, but arguing with her felt like trying to punch smoke. He'd get to the bottom of it eventually. For now, he had a dark guild to annihilate.
He turned back towards the door, his mind already shifting back to the Sunken City of Eldoria. "Just make sure my money's still there when I get back, 'Logistician'," he threw over his shoulder.
"It will be, Dynamight-san," Mirajane called after him, her voice once again light and cheerful, the mischievous twinkle back in her eyes. "Every last Jewel, waiting for your glorious, explosive return."
Katsuki just grunted and slammed the guild door behind him, leaving the rest of Fairy Tail to marvel at Mirajane's uncanny ability to know everything, and to wonder just how many other secrets their seemingly innocent barmaid was privy to. The mystery of Mirajane Strauss was, in its own way, almost as intriguing as the explosive enigma of Katsuki Bakugo himself.