"Although this thing called a Nomu is fast and powerful, it doesn't have a brain," Masata thought calmly.
"If I fight it head-on, I'll definitely be at a disadvantage. But if I deal with it properly, killing it isn't impossible."
His body tensed as he analyzed the situation.
"Besides, this place isn't far from the city. Once a fight breaks out, it'll definitely attract nearby Pro Heroes. When that happens, my odds will be much better."
Having made his decision, Masata stopped caring about any so-called rules.
Magma suddenly erupted outward from his body, spreading in a wide circle with himself at the center. The ground cracked, liquefied, and slowly transformed into a growing magma pool that continued to expand with every passing second.
But the Nomu clearly had no intention of letting Masata set the pace.
The moment Masata activated his Quirk, the monster charged straight at him.
Judging from its speed alone, Masata estimated that this Nomu wasn't much weaker than the one that had fought his "brother" before. He didn't dare take its punch directly. Magma surged rapidly around his arm—if he was going to fight a monster, then he'd hit back with something even bigger.
"Spitfire!"
A massive lava fist roared forward and collided head-on with Nomu's punch.
Compared to ordinary humans, Nomu's body was monstrous—but in front of this lava fist, it looked almost childlike. Even so, that "child's fist" actually pierced straight into the magma.
At the moment of impact, Masata staggered backward. Even after being buffered by lava, the remaining force was enough to destabilize his footing. If he'd taken that hit directly, broken bones would've been the best possible outcome.
Nomu's arm was scorched black where it entered the magma. As the eruption continued, its body was engulfed completely, thick black smoke and the stench of burning flesh filling the air.
But something was wrong.
This time, Nomu didn't continue regenerating.
After only a few seconds, it collapsed and was swallowed entirely by the boiling magma.
"…What?" Masata frowned.
"Same size, but completely different ability?"
He had always assumed Nomu was some kind of standardized mass-produced weapon. But the one in front of him—despite its superhuman body—didn't possess the terrifying high-speed regeneration of the USJ Nomu. It melted away after a single exchange.
"…That makes sense," Masata muttered.
"That hand-fetish guy said it himself. That Nomu was specifically made to counter the Symbol of Peace. If it could tank All Might's punches, there's no way it was easy to make."
Letting out a long breath, Masata relaxed slightly.
"Hah… I don't know why this one was so weak, but whatever. I should leave and call the police."
Looking at the surrounding ground, now completely transformed into a lava field, Masata knew that no matter what explanation he gave, a police visit was unavoidable. And that so-called "adult" Hunter mentioned still made him uneasy.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
In the silence broken only by bubbling magma, the sudden sound of applause felt unnaturally loud.
From the hospital entrance, a man in a black suit slowly walked out.
He was tall—well over two meters—towering over Masata's 1.8-meter frame. The tight suit outlined an overwhelmingly powerful physique, broad shoulders and a solid chest brimming with strength. Even standing still, his presence alone was enough to make one's heart race.
The only flaw was his head—completely hidden beneath a steel helmet.
That helmet destroyed the elegance of his appearance and replaced it with an overwhelming sense of dread.
Even through the mask, Masata could tell the man was smiling.
"…Hmm. Igarashi Masata, right?"
"Quirk: Magma. A beautiful and powerful ability—terrain alteration at will."
The man clapped lightly, his voice filled with genuine admiration.
"Even I can't help feeling a bit jealous."
"Hey, hey—what is this?" Masata forced a crooked grin.
"Am I fighting a final boss in the middle of grinding?"
The moment this man appeared, Masata knew the truth.
He wasn't an opponent.
An invisible pressure flooded the entire area. Masata, standing closest, felt it immediately. His vision blurred as a thick, oppressive darkness seemed to rise behind the man, like the accumulated malice of the world itself.
Even standing in a blazing lava pool, Masata felt as if all light around him was being swallowed.
I'm going to die.
That was the only thought in his mind.
His body felt crushed under an invisible mountain. Even taking a single step became nearly impossible. Cold sweat poured down his forehead.
"…So you're the 'adult' Hunter mentioned," Masata said, forcing his voice steady despite the pressure.
"Mind telling me what kind of big shot you are?"
The man stopped clapping.
"My interest in you comes from my student," his deep voice echoed from behind the helmet.
"After all, you've irritated him quite a lot."
"…Student?"
"Yes. Tomura Shigaraki."
"The leader of the League of Villains who attacked U.A. You remember him, don't you?"
Masata's eyes widened.
"In his words, you're the protagonist who ruined his carefully prepared plan."
"Even the Nomu I personally crafted for All Might was nearly destroyed by you. What should I call that?"
"Mischievous?"
"…Or unforgivable?"
The revelation hit Masata like a thunderbolt.
Tomura Shigaraki—the man who had thrown U.A. and the police into chaos—was merely this person's student?
Then what kind of monster was standing in front of him?
"Of course I remember that 'Deadwood' guy," Masata replied, breathing steadily as his body slowly adapted to the pressure.
"He nearly killed us."
"But aren't you being a bit careless?" Masata continued.
"Revealing something like this so casually? Aren't you afraid I'll expose it? All Might is teaching at U.A., you know."
Without any sign of goodwill, Masata tried to invoke the Symbol of Peace as a deterrent.
"Expose it?"
The man chuckled softly, as if he'd heard a joke.
"If I didn't want you to, you wouldn't even get the chance, Igarashi."
"And All Might?"
His voice dipped lower.
"He's an old acquaintance of mine."
"…I hate him."
The atmosphere instantly froze.