Hustlers

Midoriya had gone to bed somewhat restless, his mind still hung up on everything that had happened. Even with the knowledge he’d gleamed from what All Might had written he still found himself looking for more answers. But he knew that at some point, like with Blackwhip, he would get his answers. And he was right. “So, young Midoriya. We finally get to speak.”

Some time after having fallen asleep, he’d finally managed to drift back into the dream-like world of the Vestiges of One For All. And if he remembered correctly, this would be-

“That’s right. I’m Nana Shimura, the seventh holder of One For All and Toshinori’s mentor.” She folded her arms, “It was only a matter of time before I spoke to you. Though I suppose it’s better late than never.”

All Might’s mentor… But why now? Shouldn’t she have shown up as soon as he’d triggered her quirk? Or at the very least during his dreams on the same day that it had happened?

“You’re asking a lot of questions, but there’s no straight answer that I can give you to each individual one. So listen up,” she cleared her throat, “With the order of how One For All was passed, it meant that I should have been the first one to appear to you on that day. But due to your rather emotional nature, it meant that you effectively circumvented the natural order of One For All.”

Emotional nature? But he’d been told that the reason he received Blackwhip first was because it was perfect for the situation that he was in.

“That’s true, Blackwhip was the best quirk for you to receive in that situation. But that was still only a side effect. Because of that, there’s no knowing when you might trigger the remaining quirks. Or if you will trigger them at all.”

Huh?

“Toshinori chose you to be his successor, Lariat and I have made peace with that fact and are helping you to use our quirks. But the other holders are unwilling to do the same. None of us want you associating with that man.”

She was talking about Mr. Aurdel.

“Lariat told you the same thing before, and the truth is that all of the other holders feel the same way. Spartan cannot be trusted.”

Midoriya shook his head in disagreement. No matter what the previous holders of One For All thought of him, Mr. Aurdel hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact he’d done plenty right for Midoriya and his classmates, protecting them from the moment they’d first met and then continuing to protect and train them ever since. In fact, right now he was trying to find a way to help Midoriya in learning to control his new quirk.

“His mind has been poisoned by All For One, he’s grooming you in an attempt to unlock One For All’s potential and steal it all away. He’s using you for his own goals.”

If that was All For One had supposedly done to Mr. Aurdel, then what was One For All doing to him? Before Blackwhip had become available to him, the only time the vestiges had appeared prior was during the Sports Festival. And that was to take over his body. Something like that gave credence to the possibility that if Midoriya did something that the previous holders didn’t agree with, or simply didn’t see as in their best interest, then they would simply just take over his body and do as they pleased. Something like that proved infinitely more hostility and malintent than whatever Mr. Aurdel was currently doing or planning.

Shimura didn’t respond at first, there was no real counter to the accusations of hypocrisy thrown against her and the other holders. She sighed, “At least with us, you’re capable of feeling and knowing what our plans and intentions are. Even subconsciously. With Spartan, you’re not likely to know what he’s planning even if you ask him outright. You should be able to acknowledge that much, at the very least.”

Midoriya didn’t have a reply, because Shimura was right.

“But even more than that, he is personally responsible for the death of my grandson. Tomura Shigaraki.”

He’d… What?!

Dabi stared at the landline phone on the table, not taking his eyes off of it as he waited for the next call to come in. Ever since they were contacted and hired by their new mysterious benefactor, they’d been given jobs to do. At first they were relatively simple tasks, something along the lines of busting into some corporate building or warehouse, stealing some piece of gear, equipment or tech and then delivering it to a drop off point. But eventually they were trusted to carry out jobs that were supposed to be more difficult. One time that consisted of kidnapping a government official, killing him and then dumping his body somewhere it wouldn’t be found. Another time it involved publicly assassinating some small time local Hero in northern Japan that was getting too popular. They’d even committed some manner of public sabotage, derailing a train and causing it to smash through the station it was supposed to stop in. Whatever the goal was of their new employer, he didn’t really care. All he knew was that by doing these jobs they were getting food, clothes, new gear and a place to stay. And if they were to accomplish their goals, his goals most importantly, then having those things available was all that mattered.

“Dabi, you’re staring at that phone really intensely. That isn’t going to make them call us any sooner.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.” He pressed his hands against his forehead.

“Trying to concentrate on what, the phone?”

“Would you just shut up already you annoying little-“ Dabi was about to swipe at Toga with his hand when the phone finally began to ring. As soon as it did he quickly paid attention, snatching the phone off of the table and quickly picking up. “I’m listening.”

“Good,” the voice started. “This job will be similar to the others that we’ve given your subordinates in the past, but it will be exponentially more difficult than what you’ve previously done.” He listened carefully, pulling out a pen and paper to write down the details as he heard them. “Your target is a group of Villains, one led by a man going by the name of Wolfram.”

Wolfram… “I’ve heard of that guy, he was some Villain for hire doing jobs for cash. During the summer he tried to pull off a heist on some island full of scientists, and he almost got away with it if it weren’t for the fact that some Hero students managed to cause chaos and free All Might. He even sent some ‘envoy’ to try and recruit me before I joined with the League.”

“When it comes to groups of Villains, Wolfram’s organization and the Shie Hassaikai are the only ones that could ever stand any chance up against the League of Villains.”

Dabi set down the pen for a moment, “If that’s the case, then why didn’t you hire them instead of us?”

There was a pause over the phone. “The Shie Hassaikai are fractured and have no interest in doing anything other than furthering themselves, meaning that even if we were to give them a great deal then they would be more than willing to sell us out if it meant accomplishing their goals. Something similar goes for Wolfram’s organization. When Wolfram was hired to steal a device from I-Island, it was under the auspices of him being a fake Villain that would return the device to the person that hired him once the situation had died down. Instead Wolfram betrayed both men on the inside that had helped him, shooting one, kidnapping the other and then intending to take the device for himself. From which point he attempted to kill All Might, in order to drive up demand for the device which he would be the sole owner of to sell.”

“You don’t think we have the capacity to betray you?”

“No, of course you do. All people have the capacity for betrayal. However we know that your League of Villains is less likely to do so, since we were able to offer to you something that the other organizations already had. Security.” He could detect a hint of a slight amount of arrogance from the person on the other end of the line, “Besides, you were also the only ones that had concrete and reasonable goals that we could help to accomplish. Now, is that all for your questions?”

He picked up the pen again, “Yeah, that’s all.”

“For this job we’re going to need four of your members. Muscular, Mustard, Spinner and yourself. Each of you are required in order to deal with a specific aspect of combat against Wolfram’s team.”

“If they’re that big of a threat, then why not send all of us?”

“Moving all of the League at the same time would cause too much commotion and draw attention. Not to mention, if you somehow failed in your mission then it would mean losing access to the entirety of the League all at once.”

“And that’s not a risk you’re willing to take.”

“Correct. Muscular will needed to combat two individuals, Wolfram and one of his subordinates named Daigo. On top of having a quirk that allows him to freely manipulate metal, Wolfram also has a quirk that allows him to dramatically augment the abilities of his muscles. Daigo on the other hand has a quirk that allows him to assume a beast form, similarly greatly increasing his strength and durability.”

“Bruisers against bruisers, huh? Only problem is that it will be a two to one fight.”

“Wolfram won’t personally engage until he personally believes that there’s a real chance that. Until then it’s up to Muscular to quickly beat Daigo.”

“And the rest of us?”

“Spinner will fight against Swordkil, one of Wolfram’s minions named for the conical blades he can cover his arms with. This is for obvious reasons. As for you and Mustard, you’ll be fighting his minion by the name of Nobu. Nobu has a displacement quirk, one capable of taking, compressing and displacing objects in the rough shape of a sphere. We’re not entirely sure if it’s capable of displacing organic matter, but it’s a dangerous quirk nonetheless.”

“But if he can displace organic matter, then getting close isn’t an option and area of effect attacks will be the only way to put him down, huh?”

“Precisely, you catch on quite quickly. It’ll be in your best interest to keep this battle indoors for best effect with your quirks. You’ll find a note with the location of where they’re staying at the first drop off point you used.” After that, the man on the other side of the phone hung up. Dabi set the phone down.

“So, who’s going?” Toga asked.

Dabi stood up, “You three morons, you’re coming with me.” He pointed towards them.

Mustard looked up, brandishing his revolver and pulling out a speedloader to load his gun. “Two’s ea team, but four’s a crowd. Are we targeting someone other than a two faced politician this time?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.”

“I don’t care who we’re killing,” Muscular said, “So long as it’s a good fight, and I get to see some blood.”

“Believe me, you’ll get your fight.”

Mustard walked behind the other three League members, carefully counting and keeping track of the number of speed loaders he had stored in his satchel. The four of them were on their way to some downtown condemned factory, one that their targets were using as a base of operations. Compared to their other targets this mission seemed like it would be a cake walk. But he knew something else was up. He’d first become suspicious of whoever was giving them these missions when he started to take note of who exactly they were targeting each time. One of their first targets was one producing equipment for some of the top Heroes in the country, and though they hadn’t been their main target they’d destroyed a replacement costume for Endeavor and a new set of armor for Yoroi Musha. What had been their target were pieces of equipment that those companies had in the planning and were going to push into mass production for civilians and relatively low strength Heroes, a market which one company held a near total monopoly on. Detnerat. And while he wasn’t one to throw around baseless accusations, corporate espionage still existed since it wasn’t exactly something that a Hero could punch to make it go away. That wasn’t even bringing up the fact that this could all be politically motivated. The Hero and government official they’d killed were both advocating for greater restrictions on quirks for the individual, on top of creating more ‘accountability’ for Heroes by increasing the power of the Hero Public Safety Commission and granting them more oversight in daily life. And while he didn’t exactly abide by the laws of the land in the first place, he wasn’t one to simply roll over when hearing this kind of thing either. And if his intuition were right, then neither was Detnerat. After all, no normal support equipment company would sponsor the re-publishing of a long dead Villain’s autobiography and manifesto under the guise of ‘preserving historically significant texts,’ not in these times. Not unless they had an axe to grind.

But he wouldn’t bring that up, not yet. Not only did he not have enough confirmation for his ideas, something that could easily lead to him being thrown out, but he also wasn’t sure that it was entirely safe to say it. At least not around their temporary base. If their benefactors were able to closely watch their movements then it was entirely possible that they could be listening in. And the moment they suspected anything, they could have him killed. He figured that Dabi at least was killing to carry out such an order. So he would hold his tongue for now. “How much further until we get to this damn place? I can’t stand this ‘undercover’ crap.”

“You’re not undercover, you’re just walking down a street in clothes that don’t immediately indicate who you are. And we’re almost there,” Dabi said, a clear level of disdain in his voice. He could see the specific condemned factory off in the distance, though the whole area was filled with similar sights. Long before he could even suck on his thumb this industrial district used to manufacture hardware for the JSDF, but more recently they’d completely fallen out of use. A ‘rapprochement’ with foreign nations had encouraged the Japanese government to partially disarm, decimating the arms industry and putting thousands of people out of jobs. His family was just one of many to feel its repercussions. “Alright. Put on your masks, we’ll split up and get into positions around the factory, then and then burst in and attack them from multiple angles. Mustard,” Dabi pointed a finger at him, “Find a way in, preferably above the guys we’re trying to kill. Then give us a signal once you’re ready.”

“Got it.” Mustard pulled out his helmet and slid it over his head, quickly rushing towards the side of the factory. He’d been in places like this before, playing Heroes and Villains with his classmates. How often he’d played the Villain…

After taking a moment to search he managed to locate an old fire exit that led into the factory. After making sure all the wiring to the door was cut he pushed through, carefully watching his step and making sure that he didn’t make any noise as he crept his way forward. Eventually he managed to hear the voices of their targets as he came closer. “…Access to our offshore accounts?”

“I’ve been checking all of them, boss, pinging them from all over to make sure they can’t track us. But they’re all frozen. Whoever they assigned to hunt down our funds did one hell of a job, because we’ve got access to nothing.”

“What about that account the old man gave us?”

“I tried to access that one, but apparently someone had already accessed it and plundered it for all it had. All I could find there was a message from some old guy who said he was a doctor.”

“We’ve been completely left out to dry…” With echoes reverberating throughout the entirety of the factory, he watched his every step to make sure no random sound gave him away. Eventually he managed to find where they were all grouped together, carefully looking down at them from around the corner. “Our only option left will be to leave the country, try to put as much distance between us and the Japanese government as possible. Most of Africa and the Middle East doesn’t have extradition treaties with Japan.”

Mustard bolted out of cover as they turned around, heading towards a set of stairs that led to a catwalk above these guys. “What about all the other guys, boss?”

“They’ll find their way to where we are if they were worth the price I pay them. If not, they can rot for what I care.”

“Boss!” They turned away again, Mustard ran his way up the stairs. “What about us, would you have left us behind?”

“You’re my top performers, I’d be a moron if I left you behind.” Mustard made his way to the catwalk, he had the perfect line of sight against all four of the targets.

He tightened his mask, then opened the oxygen tank. Then he pulled out his phone, called Dabi and whispered the signal. “Do it.”

Simultaneously, three holes were ripped through the walls of the factory. Letting in light and dust. “Who the hell?!”

“Yo, wolf guy. It’s been a long time no see,” Dabi was the first to walk in, making himself known.

“It’s you,” Wolfram said, tensing up. “How did you find us? What’s this about?”

“What? Am I not allowed to follow up on an old acquaintance?”

“You burned to death the man I sent to recruit you, I’d hardly call us acquaintances. And either way I’m not exactly in the hiring kind mood right now.”

“I just wanted to know what you were up to these days… After all, you must have done something pretty important for someone to want you and your entire association dead.” Mustard took that as the sign to attack, pointing his revolver towards the tall one, Nobu, and squeezed the trigger. His shot landed squarely in his right shoulder.

“Hold them back! We can’t let any Heroes know where we are!” Wolfram shouted, quickly running toward another section of the factory.

“You little piece of-!” Nobu raised his right hand towards the catwalk where Mustard was, he began to run.

“Not so fast, pencilneck!” Dabi quickly opened up with a volley of his flames, throwing Nobu’s aim off. As his quirk activated it displaced a section of the catwalk behind Mustard, splitting it in half and causing the section he was still on to slope backwards. He turned around and slid down, bracing himself as he slammed towards the ground.

“SHOW ME YOUR BLOOD, YOU PURPLE PIECE OF SHIT!” Muscular barreled forward as Daigo transformed into his beast form, the two coming to blows with each other in the middle of the factory. Sections of conveyor belt and bits of machinery were thrown through the air.

As soon as Mustard hit the ground Dabi picked him up with one hand, laying down a literal wall of covering fire with the other. “Brat, put up your gas cloud. We’re going to need it.”

He picked his revolver back up off of the floor, “My gas is inert. If I pump out too much of it, it’ll kill your flames. I’ll-”

“Do whatever you need to, I’ll focus on turning this guy to ashes.” Mustard did as he asked, using his quirk. The room slowly began to fill up with the gas, he could begin to feel his awareness expand as the gas crawled its way through.

“He’s over… There! To your right!” Mustard quickly swung his revolver over towards the right, in the direction where the sleeping gas was being continually displaced by Nobu’s quirk. He fired his revolver twice, with one billeting audibly hitting the concrete walls of the factory and the other punching into Nobu’s ballistic vest.

“Burn!” Dabi threw his flames in that direction, igniting old containers filled with aviation oil and starting a blaze inside of the factory.

“You lowlife scum, you don’t even know who you’re messing with!” Nobu shouted, furious and in pain. Dabi had clearly managed to scorch his target even while being unable to see him.

“Oh? You think you’re some kind of big shot? I’m afraid I have to tell you that you’re living under a delusion.” Another wave of fire rolled in Nobu’s direction, instantly liquefying the rubber on a series of nearby conveyor belts. The fire quickly began to rise towards the ceiling, catching a number of fixtures and setting them ablaze.

Mustard grit his teeth, Dabi was burning through the oxygen in the room too quickly. He pumped the brakes on his quirk and the gas began to disperse. “There you are!” A rush of air went across his left side, ripping off his glove and sleeve before neatly dropping them in a small ball onto the ground. So it didn’t work on organic matter…

He dove to the side as another rush of air came his way, just barely avoiding tearing a hole through his overcoat and the tank of oxygen on his back. “Son of a bitch!” He dove behind a concrete pillar, pushing his revolver around the corner and quickly emptying the last three rounds in the cylinder in the direction of where Nobu should be. He then pulled his gun back around the corner as a chunk of the pillar was sucked away, pushing out the cylinder, extracting the empty cases before pulling out one of the speedloaders and shoving the six bullets into their place. One his gun was loaded once more he rolled out of cover, quickly taking in the situation to engage once again.

“Mustard, give me a hand here!” With three separate fights taking place across the factory floor things had gotten chaotic, with Spinner and Swordkil having made their way towards him with neither being able to get in a killing blow. But Spinner was clearly on the backfoot.

“You were supposed to be able to handle him by yourself!” Mustard leveled his revolver at Swordkil, opening firing with two presses of the trigger. The first shot missed and punched a hole in the wall, but the second struck Swordkil’s left blade arm and deflected off towards the ceiling.

Swordkill bounced back, taking a moment to stare at the dent that had been put into his arm. “A brat like you shouldn’t be on the battlefield!”

“Sounds like you’re self-conscious about your last loss to a bunch of kids.” He fired again, Swordkil leapt back and avoided the round.

“The same school of kids that put you in prison!” Enraged, Swordkil charged towards him. Intent on striking him down. But Spinner quickly managed to put himself between the two of them, parrying Swordkil’s strikes because managing to slash toward his legs and get a good cut in. As Swordkil stumbled back Mustard took the chance to open fire again. Spinner maneuvered to the side as two more bullets ripped out of his revolver. The first ripped through the strap holding together the ballistic vest on Swordkil’s left side, the second ripped through a hole through his left shoulder and forced him to deactivate his left arm blade.

“Thanks!” Spinner shouted, beginning his attack on Swordkill once again.

“Finish him off yourself! We all have a specific part to play here.” Mustard quickly ran back over towards where Dabi and Nobu were fighting, narrowly avoiding Muscular and Daigo as the two brutes flew past him in a back and forth brawl of fists.

“Lay down your gas again,” Dabi said, rather casually despite being in the middle of a fight against Nobu. Mustard could see that part of Dabi’s jacket was gone as a result of the displacement quirk, also having taken with it several of the staples that held grafts of skin to Dabi’s body. He could see and smell the singed rotten flesh.

“On it,” Mustard quickly built up and released another cloud of gas, swamping the factory floor with the purple mist. Nobu once more went on the defensive, tunneling through the gas with his displacement quirk to try and keep a ready access to air.

Mustard quickly turned, sensing that the man was making his way towards him. “If I just get rid of you-!”

The swipe went past him, and Nobu was left wide open. “If indeed.” At point blank range he put a hole through the mercenary’s long neck, leaving him to drop to the ground clutching at the open wound. Then once he’d lined up his shot he put another bullet through his head, killing him. One down, three to go. “Dabi, I’ll go help-” His words were cut off as his revolver was violently ripped out of his hands and the oxygen tank broke off from the tanks he used to carry it on his back.

Without a supply of oxygen it’d be foolish to keep pumping gas, so he cut it off again. “You morons, you don’t even know that you’re being played!” Wolfram had run back out after doing whatever he’d rushed off earlier to do, his metal mask covering up his face. “By killing us you’re not only killing the competition, but you’re making it easier for the Heroes to wipe all Villains out. Is that really what you’re after? A slate just for yourself where you’re guaranteed to lose?”

“Who says we’re going to lose?” Dabi said, mockingly. He prepared to lay down a wall of flames.

“Fight like this and you will!” As Dabi let loose with his fire Wolfram used his quirk, magnetically dragging the surgical staples that held the skin grafts on Dabi’s body and using them to force Dabi’s arm towards the ceiling. The blue fire erupted upward and scorched the area above their heads. “You’re all outmatched by me. If you want to even consider getting away with your lives intact, then I’d suggest that you get down on your knees and start groveling.”

“No way!” Muscular shouted, punching Daigo over towards the side before turning around. “Once I have my sights set on a kill, I won’t take my eyes off of them!” Muscular then charged towards Wolfram, looking as if to run him down. Wolfram let go off Dabi and focused his attention on Muscular, using his Metal Manipulation to rip the artificial eye out of head. But that did nothing to stop the bloodthirsty Villain. The two of them clashed, throwing up a cloud of debris as they exchanged their blows.

Dabi regained control, “He shouldn’t have been able to do that… Not unless he took something like trigger.”

“That must have been what he was looking for back there,” Mustard said, gritting his teeth. “I’m out of a weapon, and I can’t use my gas without risking gassing ourselves and knocking us out.“

“Find your gun then, brat,” Dabi stoked his flames again, eyes squarely set on Endeavor. “You’re no good to me if you can’t fight.”

“Right.” Mustard quickly surveyed the area, running around to see where Wolfram had tossed his revolver. But he couldn’t see it. Dabi’s flames and the fire he’d started inside the factory was kicking up too much smoke, and he practically had to fumble around to get anywhere. Then a section of the factory roof collapses, kicking up ash and debris to only make the situation even worse.

“Watch where you’re going!” The poor visibility led to him colliding with Spinner, pushing him out of the way as Swordkil came in for another blow. The blade came crashing down onto his helmet, shattering it into nearly a dozen pieces but stopping just short of his head.

“Get out of my way, brat!” He prepared to strike again.

“I won’t allow it!” Spinner struck first, slashing Swordkil. With the left side strap having been destroyed earlier it allowed Spinner to slash the mercenary wide across the chest, creating a deep gash that drew blood and forced him back.

The ballistic vest dropped to the floor. “Boss!” Wolfram, who was busy grappling with Muscular and fighting off Dabi, turned his head, raised one hand. Then Spinner’s sword flew out of his hands.

“Hey!” Mustard thought quickly, using one hand to grab a canister of oil that hadn’t yet caught on fire and the other to grab onto the sword. At breakneck speeds he was practically thrown at Dabi, Wolfram having intended to use the sword to skewer him. Instead he kicked him out of the way. At the same time he managed to get the bottle of oil open and splashed it over Wolfram, dousing him with the oil.

“You miserable little-!” Wolfram smacked him over to the side, slamming him into a pillar. It had been done with another force to fracture his right cheekbones and re-open the wounds he’d been given by that student during the camp raid against UA. As he looked over to his right he found his revolver, one bullet still in the cylinder.

Dabi used his fire to try and ignite the oil, but Wolfram manipulated the staples again and redirected his arm. Muscular meanwhile attacked Wolfram from behind, seemingly to little effect as the mercenary boss threw him back with one hand. “Even if it’s only a distraction…” He muttered. Mustard raised his revolver, aiming it at Wolfram.

Wolfram turned his head to Mustard, ignoring Muscular and Dabi for a moment. “You really think that you can kill me with-?” Then, there was the awful sound of tearing skin and flesh.

Mustard turned his head. “Keep your eyes on the biggest threat, moron.” Dabi had ripped the skin graft off of his arm, allowing him to control it freely once more. Wolfram quickly tried to raise a metal shield to protect himself from the fire, but Mustard pulled the trigger. The single remaining bullet punched through Wolfram’s chest. The man stumbled. “Burn.” Dabi let loose with his flames, igniting the oil that had doused Wolfram and sending him into a panic.

Desperately he tried to shed the layers of clothing he had, but it was to no avail. Mustard could smell the burning hair and skin. “Die you weakling!” Muscular reeled up one big punch, pounding it against the side of Wolfram’s skull and sending him face first into the ground. There was a solid crack as Wolfram’s neck snapped, leaving him dead on the floor.

Mustard stood up, dusting himself off. “That’s two down, now we just need to-”

“Luna Fall!” A white blur dropped through the roof of the factory, landing on top of Muscular and punching a small hole into the ground.

A Hero! “If she’s here, then it means he won’t be far behind. I’m not staying around for that today.” In a display of self-preservation, Dabi was canceling the mission. He bolted it in the opposite direction. “Make your own ways back!”

“Running away already?!” Mirko shouted.

“Not this guy!” Muscular forced himself back up, driving a fist towards Mirko. She blocked the blow with her, “I’ll fight till one of us is dead, Hero!”

“Then don’t fail to entertain!” Mustard quickly began to run as Muscular and Mirko came to blows, endlessly throwing punches and kicks against each other one after another.

“Dabi!” Another figure burst through the roof after Mirko, this time a green set of armor. “I’m not letting the League of Villains-!”

“Die Hero!”

“Damnit!” Daigo, who’d recently woke back up after being beaten unconscious by Muscular, woke up again. Upon doing so he transformed back into his purple monster form and tackled the first person he saw in front of him. That being the pro-Hero, Spartan.

Mustard quickly ran out of the way of the fight, Daigo wailing on Spartan. He was about to run straight out of the factory when he saw that Spinner was still struggling with Swordkil, fighting unarmed against an opponent with a blade. If he left the two of them to fight he could more easily get away, but… “Useless,” he muttered. In a matter of seconds he sprinted towards the two, loading another six bullets into his revolver with his speedloader. Then he opened fire, putting three rounds into Swordkil’s back. The mercenary dropped to the floor.

“Why did you…?”

He grabbed Spinner by the arm, holstering his revolver. “Move if you want to live, moron!” Moving as fast as their legs could carry them, Mustard and Spinner sprinted out from a hole in the factory wall and in the opposite direction. They’d need to put as much distance between them and those Heroes as possible.

“Damnit!” Aurdel grit his teeth as the purple beast man tackled him through a wall, mercilessly beginning to beat against his armor with its massive fists. Aurdel managed to get one hand on the ground, using Overhaul to create a spike that quickly shot up and put a hole through his opponent’s right hand as it swung down. The man let out a shriek of pain and momentarily let go of him, allowing Aurdel enough time to roll out from under him. Then he charged straight towards the man, reeling up and delivering a hard to the chin that sent him toppling back out into the other room of the factory.

“Eat this!” As he burst back through he could see Mirko relentlessly pushing against Muscular, pounding against the reinforced layers of muscles with kick after kick. Bits of gore were thrown into the air as a number of muscle fibers broke from the trauma, only to reform again to her opponent’s liking. She wasn’t going to get anywhere like that.

“We’re going to lose them again!” Aurdel grabbed the purple beast man by the neck, using his strength to throw him over his shoulder and through an old piece of machinery. He then followed up by jumping and driving the heel of his armored boot into the man’s skull, repeatedly doing so. In response to the repeated trauma the man tried to throw Aurdel off, wildly swinging his arms but missing. Aurdel then went even further up, using his thrusterpack to get some more height before dropping. With one last stomp he managed to break the beast form quirk the Villain was using, flattening his head on the machinery. He then turned his head, launching over towards Mirko and Muscular. “You need to work on your technique!”

He parried one of Muscular’s punches, pushing Mirko back. “There’s nothing wrong with my technique.”

“Two against one, I’ll take you both on!”

“In your dreams.” As Muscular attacked with viciously powerful blows, he and Mirko stood strong to repeatedly throw back the hits. Then, once he’d gotten a chance, he pulled his combat knife out of his sheath. Within a manner of seconds he dodged Muscular’s right hook, pivoting behind him and driving the knife into his shoulder. He then dragged it across, severing the muscle fibers before using his other hand to pry them off Muscular. The best way he could describe it was like peeling a very fleshy banana.

“I’LL WIN THIS FIGHT!” Muscular lashed out violently as Aurdel ripped the muscles off of him, using some of them to try and restrain his arms. But it was of no use.

“Eat this!” Mirko kicked Muscular across the head, Aurdel could hear a violent snap as her foot connected. The muscles that were rapidly moving and reforming suddenly stopped, moments later they effectively wilted back into his body. “Crap, I think I may have kicked him too hard.”

Aurdel slid his knife back into the sheath, “Believe me, no one is going to miss this guy.” He then let out an annoyed sigh, surveying all the damage. “The League, they’ve managed to get away. Again.”

“Do you want to chase after them?” Mirko prodded.

“No, there’s no point.” He walked in the direction of the main exit to the factory floor, “This part of the city is a maze, not even including the vast underground network they must have used in tandem to move around. We could spend all night looking for them and still not find them.”

“Sounds like we’re going back on patrol then.” Aurdel stopped, crouching down over something he saw on the floor.

“What, do you suddenly not want to patrol?”

“Nah, I was just curious if you were in one of those moods again.”

“One of those moods…” He grumbled, getting a chuckle from Mirko. He picked up the thing that he’d found on the floor. It was a skin graft, one that was repeatedly burnt and battered with the staples still attached. There was fresh blood on it too…

Of all the members of the League of Villains, the only member that hadn’t had their identity determined was Dabi. But with this, and some DNA testing, that was about to change.

Mustard continued to drag Spinner along, even when they were far away from where the battle had taken place. But eventually, he released him. “Alright, we’re safe.”

“Safe?” Spinner questioned, “I’d say that we’d have to be back at the hideout before I consider us safe.”

“We can’t go back there, not yet. There’s something that I need to discuss with you.”

“You can’t let the others hear us discussing this…?”

“No, I can’t.”

Spinner went on his guard, unsure of himself for a moment. Then he relented. “Fine, what is it?”

“The people who are ordering us to go on these missions and do things for us, by now I’m completely positive that they’re using us now and setting us up to be taken in later.”

“Well anyone could surmise that, it’s just human nature. But-“

“Let me finish,” Mustard interrupted him, “Out of everyone else in the League you’re probably the only other relatively sane person, so you should have noticed that every attack we do is ideologically or politically motivated.”

“I can see how some of the other jobs we were given were motivated by ideology or politics, but what does wiping out a group of mercenary Villains accomplish aside from putting them in the dirt?”

“Do you really think that it was a coincidence that Spartan only showed up after Wolfram and Nobu were dead? And in fact, only after his partner went in first?”

“You're digging too deep into things,” Spinner folded his arms, rebuffing his claim.

“I am not!” Mustard tightened his fist, “Spartan is only ever seen wearing his armor, it’s part of his image. But I imagine it’s also part of its strength. Under normal circumstances the only way you could remove that armor is through machine tooling, or brute force. But there were two people in that warehouse that could have done it.” Spinner suddenly shifted, the realization hitting him.

“Nobu could have just displaced all his gear, and completely laid him bare…”

“And Wolfram could have literally crushed him like a tin can, since that suit of armor is made of metal. The only Villains that could feasibly defeat him are either dead or imprisoned, leaving the only people capable of possibly facing him to be Heroes. And he’s leading them around by the nose.”

Spinner relaxed his posture, “For a kid that dropped out of middle school to kill people, you have a better head on your shoulders than I expected.”

“Give someone who’s angry at the world enough time to think, and he’ll begin to make more connections than you could ever hope to dream of. It’s its own brand of wisdom. And I only acted out when I did just because it was the best chance that I saw at the time.”

He sighed, “Then who’s behind it?”

“I don’t know for sure who’s behind it. My best guess is Detnerat, the company that funded the republishing of Destro’s autobiography and brought his ideology back into the public zeitgeist.”

“What would they have to gain?”

“Even though they’re radically different ideologies, people have begun to make connections between Stain’s idea of a perfect Hero society and the ideas presented in Meta Liberation War. A new ideology is being formed, one where personal responsibility and actions are at the forefront. And they need a symbol.”

“And Spartan is…”

“...The perfect match.” He folded his hands, “They’re planning to succeed and overcome the influence of Stain, All Might and All For One, and they’re using us to do it.”

“Damn,” Spinner muttered under his breath, “And we can’t even tell anyone else about this. Police and Heroes are after our heads, and Dabi would do the same if we questioned his actions.”

“The best we can do for now is to play along, and to prepare. Because when the time comes our ‘benefactor’ is going to toss out like fresh meat to a pack of hungry dogs, and I don’t intend to get eaten alive.”