The Musutafu night was quieter than usual, as if the city itself held its breath.
Masato crouched on the roof of an old clinic in the Naruhata District. His visor showed signs of increased underground trafficking activity in the area—targeting vulnerable quirkless children with illegal enhancer drugs. Garaki had provided detailed files, but Masato had already begun developing his own investigation methods—unauthorized by the doctor.
He'd followed patterns, listened to whispers, and mapped out escape routes. The more he saw, the less he trusted the data he'd been given. Too clean. Too clinical.
Tonight, he planned to intercept a delivery.
But someone was already there.
A blond figure in a white-and-blue hero outfit stood at the alley entrance, smiling.
"Yo! You shouldn't be out here, buddy. Dangerous night to be loitering in backstreets like this."
Masato tensed. He recognized the voice from the surveillance archives.
Mirio Togata. Hero name: Lemillion. Quirk: Permeation. Status: U.A. Top Intern. Affiliation: Nighteye Agency.
Bright. Unshakable. Powerful.
Masato dropped silently behind him. "You're not from the Commission."
Mirio turned, surprised but not afraid. "Whoa! You're fast. You the one they've been talking about? 'Black Hood'? You've been pretty active lately."
Masato's mask filtered his voice. "Go home, Hero. This isn't your case."
Mirio's smile faded slightly. "Funny. I could say the same to you. Vigilantism's a crime."
Masato didn't answer.
Below, the van pulled up to the alley. Four men with crates stepped out.
Masato moved first.
Crack! A crate shattered as he landed in the middle of the gang like a meteor.
"Quirk suppressors," he muttered as he crushed a vial underfoot.
The criminals screamed and scattered.
One raised a gun. Masato disarmed him with a backhanded strike that fractured his wrist.
Then Mirio popped out of the wall, intercepting a second thug and knocking him unconscious with a solid, friendly fist.
"Teamwork makes the dream work!" he said cheerfully.
Masato didn't smile.
"I don't work with heroes."
"Too bad," Mirio said, landing beside him. "Because you've got potential. But this path you're walking? It ends bloody."
Masato turned, activating Solar Circuit, his aura glowing faint gold beneath his suit.
Mirio noticed and stepped back, cautious now.
"That's no ordinary quirk, huh...?"
Masato's tone was flat. "You've been lied to. The people you work for let this happen."
Mirio's eyes narrowed. "And you think this—beating guys in alleys—is the solution?"
"I think cleaning filth is better than covering it."
For a moment, silence.
Then, sirens echoed nearby.
Mirio said nothing as Masato vanished into the shadows once more.