Chapter 69: Thieves

The city lay under a dark sky, the colour and warmth of the day having long retreated, making way for the cold night, one colder than normal, as summer in its last days, fall was fast approaching. Streetlights hummed softly, casting soft gold halos on the empty sidewalks, and the night was quiet. No sides, shouts, or breaking news stories of the next villain incident, stopped or otherwise. Still, seated in his office, Gentle couldn't help but wonder if the city was truly safe, if Japan was safe, and if this calm was merely society holding its breath.

Things hadn't felt like that to him for a while now, and while he could say, like most, it was because their shining symbol, their righteous beacon of heroism and strength, was gone, he felt that wasn't right. This…unease, this wrong feeling, he predated All Might's climactic final showdown against the feared Lord of Evil, All for One.

It all traced back to the Thunder, didn't it? A group that, like the Big Bang, had no real cause or history, and just came into being one day and in a big way. They operated like old criminal gangs, yet, unlike them, they were smaller, stronger, and better. Evading capture, epic battles with heroes and law enforcement left much destroyed and many injured. They were involved in 3 incidents in which All Might was involved and yet managed to escape…

Much like Pyre's video, it was a rallying cry to the criminal element, to all the evildoers in the shadows, long forced to endlessly plot and scheme but never act, that times were changing.

If Gentle were anything like such ruffians, he would have been swept up in their acts a long time ago. But like many, he was merely a concerned citizen wondering when this hopefully brief bump between eras would pass. But unlike the masses, he had a means to affect things, to try and get the heroes on the right path to change, to adapt to this new threat.

At least, he was working on it, but sitting hunched over his parchment and laptop, quill in hand, he wondered if he would get things done in time. Dipping the tip of his quill into the ink well, he moved to write something, only to pause mid-word, and scratch it out.

La Brava walked in in time to see him crumble the paper and toss it into the bin by his desk, which contained at least a dozen more paper balls like it.

"Poor Gentle, you've been working so hard and skipped tea breaks for a week." La Brava frowned, having walked in to deliver him a freshly brewed cup of tea and some biscuits.

Gentle reached for his brow, massaging it to help with the strain of his plans proving lacking. "Yes, well, such are but minor sacrifices when one must work on what could be their magnum opus."

Still, he wouldn't shun his partner's tea. He put the quill down and took a sip of the delectable liquid. As she walked back to the door, he enjoyed its rich flavour as the warmth passed down his throat; he mused. "La Brava, recently, the heroes have lost the favour of the people. Their thoughtless actions have bred mistrust from the public, while repeated failures to handle this crisis have only fostered a sense of resistance."

Taking another sip, La Brava returned from closing his study door. “It’s clear they are unequipped to handle the current situation, or worse, they can’t grasp the severity of the situation. If they did, they wouldn’t dream of hosting a festival in such troubling times.” He looked at her, worried about how things could grow worse, and yet, when U.A. should be instructing their students, they were hosting a culture festival?

Closed to the public or not, such events couldn't be properly planned and carried out without students taking substantial time off their classes and training, not for a school like U.A., which seemed to buck the norms.

La Brava, of course, had her misgivings. "Gentle, I don't know how I feel about involving these innocent children."

Gentle out a wordless sound in agreement, placing his tea down as he crossed his arms. "It would be false if I claimed I didn't have my doubts, as I can understand the joy of such festivities." La Brava might not have had the best time in school, and his time wasn't ideal, but he could still recall fond moments like the culture festival.

But added to that was that those students had been through quite a lot like us because of vile, villainous actors. He didn't enjoy the thought of bringing them further grief, but he liked to think this was for their benefit.

"But my dear La Brava, this operation does not harm them; it's to give them guidance, a demonstration of why they need to improve so our future heroes will be better than our present! After all, one of these days I will need to be apprehended, and if it's done by a truly noble and vigilant young hero, well, I can't complain." He laughed at the end.

"All this to inspire youthful minds? You're so cool, Gentleman!" La Brava, the emotional woman she was, fell over in joy but got back up just as fast. "But let's not let you get caught just yet. You can make them into better heroes and still be the cool master criminal who's always one step ahead as you ride off into the sunset."

Gentle chuckled at the statement, as he always loved movies with rogue characters, bandits with a flair for the dramatic, and hearts of gold. "We shall see, lovely La Brava, we shall see, but for now, we must still finalise the plans as this will be a performance unlike any other; careful preparation is needed."

La Bava hummed, though she didn’t look worried in the slightest. “Well, I know that U.A's security is going to be one of the big problems, but have no fear, for that's where I come in. I'll infiltrate their internal network and set the sensors feed on loop. They'll never know what hit them until we've already announced ourselves."

Yes, Gentle had no fear on that front, as despite appearances, La Brava was perhaps one of the greatest computer wizards in Japan. Hacking into U.A. would be a challenge, to be sure, especially doing it without anyone noticing, but if there was someone he believed could do it, it was La Brava.

Leaning into his chair, he gazed out the window towards the star-filled sky. So many of them, some brighter, some further away. In his heart, he knew that if those were the souls of those long passed, left to mark the night sky for their greatness, La Brava had long assured her place among them as one of the brightest.

Looking at her, he couldn't help but smile. "I am truly blessed to have such a friend and comrade like you, La Brava."

As he expected from her, La Brava was ecstatic about the comment, a ball of positivity as she turned away from him to hide her blush. “Oh, stop, Gentle, you know I love you, anything you need, and I am there-"

“Manami,” He stopped her, the woman letting out a quick gasp as she heard him use her name. He placed a hand on her hand, gentle and caring. "I do mean it. With all of being, I am grateful to you. Not as a fan, not just a villainous partner, but…as a dear friend, someone I can call precious. I know that why I'm so focused on the details and why I'm researching so hard isn't because I fear failure or not leaving my mark. I have become accustomed to that particular blend of tea...”

For a moment, he stopped. The thought of what truly brought terror to his heart was almost too much to bear. "It's because this is the first job where you could come under harm, this is U.A., and they'll be on edge with all the chaos that has been happening, the thought that you're getting captured or hurt…"

La Brava reached for his hand, bringing it off her hand and holding it between her own, her magenta eyes almost glowing in affection and trust, which, at times, he wondered if he truly earned. “Danjuro, I trust you with all my heart. I know this will be big, but you'll come up with something amazing." "After all, from the moment I met you, you've been the best version of what I hoped you'd be."

Line Break

In another part of the country, the night sky loomed over a quiet city. Here, there was no silence as this part of town was abuzz with activity, a part that was part poor and part trendy. Many stores remained open, manned by bored and tired night staff, but the real action was the dozens of clubs and bars with cheap motels dotting the area. Be it partying, drinking, karaoke, food, drugs, or a night with an escort with all manner of bodies, you could find it here.

It was a place riddled with sin and crime, and even with pros and cops patrolling, they could never catch enough. They rarely found more than grunts and low-tier criminals. Even in the age of All Might, people sought out such places, and because of that, they had unwritten rules. Two of the most important were that if you aren't involved, don't get involved, and not to rat out anyone you saw.

With crime on the rise, it remained consistent within such regions, unreported, unseen, and rarely challenged, but at the same level. After all, no one wanted to ruin the good time of people who could kill you for it. That, along with the people who lived in the cheap housing in such districts, made it easy for pros to focus on the cleaner, flashier sides of town.

Because of that, a trio could walk down the street without much worry. It was already late, going to 11 p.m., but in a place like this, the party wouldn't stop until daybreak.

"Are you sure about this?" One of them spoke up. A man of average height and lean build, his light brown skin would imply he had foreign blood, but most would focus more on his elongated face, duck-like bill, and hand, which were oversized with slick, bright orange fingers.

“What are you worried about? Afraid a girlfriend would see you out with me?” Another teased her teammate. She was different to the first, being a tall woman with a voluptuous figure, she kept her white hair long and waving, free of any binds in the moment, 2 locks framed the side of her face, with bangs obscuring most of her right eye, which along with her smile gave her the calm, effortless seductive look. Or it would, if she weren't wearing a medical mask.

"I'm sure they'll be busy tonight," the man waved off her comment. But as they walked, he looked across the street to a motel—a love hotel, really—with only a couple of people standing out. The lights coming off windows and a handsome, bad boy-looking dude enticing a couple of giggling women inside implied business wasn't hurting. "Seems like there are more people tonight," he said.

"Well, maybe people had a bad week. I can't say we've been having a good time lately. There are no good pickings, and I can't even get wasted about it." His female companion retorted, as they hadn't had any good jobs for a couple of months—small-time stuff like when they had started out three years ago.

"I thought you said you wanted to quit, " the duck-billed man asked her, to which she sent a mild glare his way.

"Yeah, smoking, but I didn't say I didn't want any booze." Pausing outside a club, she could smell the nicotine, but also other drugs through the open door. And then there was the bouncer. Big, strong-looking, she figured she could work her magic on him, get something they both wanted. “I could try my luck at another joint, help me unwind.”

The duck-billed man snorted, the sound coming out closer to a quack. “Good luck with that, I heard a club like that is pricey as hell and they don’t take begging or I.O.U.s”

"Enough." Before she could snap back at the comment, the third person in the group spoke. He was the tallest of them, and it wasn't even close. More than that, he was also incredibly muscular. His muscle shirt and sleeveless jacket showed off his toned figure and massive arms. His orange hair was naturally styled like flames.

With their attention, the large man continued. “The word is good. They’re looking for some extra muscle, though I don’t know why.”

"You think it's another job? It'll be a pretty damn big one if they ask for help, " the duck-billed man said.

"Or they want some fodder. I don't know about you two, but I'm not gonna go to prison for them." The woman narrowed her gaze. She had known some of the idiots who had signed up for the USJ and hadn't been happy until news broke that they all got busted.

"We'll see when we get there. We're not going to accept anything until we know more, " their leader replied as they continued. Most ignored them, and if they didn't, they kept their mouths shut about seeing the Volcano Thieves.

Dusty Ash liked to think that it was mainly because they knew of them and didn't want to mess with them. Round the corner, they spotted the destination for the meet-up: an old rundown theatre, the sort that once housed plays and opera when this part of them wasn't so rundown and 'ghetto' as developers and polite society called it. Still, much like most buildings, it wasn't abandoned, so it was an odd choice.

Stepping up to the entrance, they found no one manning the ticket booth, nor were there signs advertising any shows. However, when Gust Boy pressed on the door, it opened without issue. The duck-billed man looked to the other two, but Volcano brushed on past. Like he told them, they had little to fear, and even if this was some sting from the pros, they would fight out and back into the street.

Seeing their boss acting like his typical confident self, the other two followed. Inside, the lobby smelled of forgotten perfume and nose-wrinkling bleach, a sure sign that something had gone down and the staff had just recently cleaned away evidence. On the walls, they saw some framed posters for some of the place's iconic shows from its heyday, showing performances that Dusty wouldn't be surprised if they were senior citizens now.

The once-rich red carpet was threadbare. Its red faded into a dull pink, though it seemed clean. Above, the chandelier hung. Most of its crystals had been sold or stolen, but the light was still functional.

They did find some staff, but maybe only half as many as a place like this would typically have. Most of them worked the concessions counter, where a line lay for people getting something to eat. Dusty and the rest didn't join in and went right for the main theatre.

Volcano reached for the handles and swung the door open, revealing the grand auditorium. It wasn't empty, but dozens of figures moved among the torn seats and narrow aisles, people of all shapes and sizes. While they looked nothing alike and were, at times, outright antagonistic to another group, there was one thing they all shared.

They were all criminals.

Gust let out a low quack, "Guess more people than we thought for the invites."

"I recognise some of the people here, but…" Dusty noted that some seemed to be small-time players, while others were respected as small fish. Of course, there were people whose eye was drawn to: a tall woman with four arms standing to the side, a nervous-looking sheep heteromorph, a man whose arms seemed to be made from water, and so on.

“Either they’re total newbies, or they’ve been smart to stay off the radar.” Volcano mused as they found a spot and sat down, waiting for…whatever this was to start.

The wait wouldn't be long, as people entered with their food. The staff closed the doors, and the lights shut off, only for four to turn on. They were all facing the stage, where they saw three familiar figures walking onto the stage. Three who had been nobodies like them and yet had climbed the underworld's ladder to stand high above them.

Slice, Chimera, and their leader, the enigmatic Nine, looked out over the room of criminals, villains, and thugs. Chimera was the easiest to read of all of them. The man looked like he thought them trash, which Dusty could admit was annoying to think about, but she wasn't dumb enough to make anything of it.

Slice smiled, but it was as fake as the smile one saw on a newscaster, and no matter how hard she tried, Dusty couldn't see past it to what was going through the woman's head. So she focused on her hair, which was known to be as lethal as it was beautiful. Despite the age of the stage and its equipment, her hair was nearly glowing under the light.

Lastly, Nine's gaze was cool and gave nothing away, yet he had captured the attention of the room without so much as a word.

"Well, before we start things, let me say good evening, and thank you all for coming. You were chosen for this, for your skill, your power, or your intelligence. For some, it was a combination." Nine stated, looking over the room at how many egos inflated at his words, but he wasn’t done.

“As for what this is about, it is simple: We of the Thunder are looking to expand our ranks, but let me make one thing clear,” He looked those same prideful people in the eye. “None of you are worthy.”

He was blunt, leaving nothing to interpretation. Of course, such an assertion was bound to go down, as was expired milk laced with salt. The room was up in arms, some yelling, others threatening the group for being cocky. Perhaps just a dozen or so remained seated.

“What?” Gust asked, as that seemed like a terrible move. It was so terrible; it should have been easy to avoid it.

"Is he seriously insulting the entire room?" Dusty was insulted, but she was more intrigued by the boldness. She liked a man like that.

Volcano was much less of a fan of it as he grew noticeably hotter. “He has a mouth in him.”

Nine spoke up, silencing the room not through force but will. An impressive feat when the man was known for how stoic he came off, but Dusty guessed he was more like his quirk than he seemed. After all, what did a thunderstorm care for your feelings?

Nine’s eyes narrowed only slightly, but Dusty got the impression he was frowning under that mask of his. “If any of you were, you’ll be greater than what you are now. Instead, the most impressive people in the room are low-tier C-listers. But what you have…is potential; should we accept you, we can mould that into something more. Something to be respected and feared as we tear down this old order, and build a new one."

Build a new order? Wait a second. Didn't Pyre's video say anything about that? Or did she hear it from another place? Still, that seemed to be the part in which Nine spoke with the most conviction; it wasn't just a lofty goal or a means to sucker in the gullible; it was real. To him, to Slice, to Chimera.

“And how will you pick one?” Someone spoke up, Dusty noting that it was a well-dressed man in a suit, but he had half his head covered with a half helmet.

It was Chimera who replied for the group, flashing them a smile that was as unnerving as it was amused. "Not one, little man. We're looking for 10 people, which naturally means most of you won't make the cut."

Slice stepped up for the next part, her gaze tracing over the room. For a moment, Dusty was sure she looked her way, but Slice quickly moved on. "Which is why we gathered you today, as this was something of a sign-up process for a test which we'll conduct to root out the best from your number. Don't worry; it shouldn't be fatal, so if you fail, it's not your life on the line."

Slice said the last part as a joke, which made sense since, as far as it was known, not a single murder could be linked to the Thunder. But that didn't mean people just walked off encounters with them, as the news had had stories where pros who fought them gave testimony, some from hospital to remind people why they were dangerous, others after they were forced into early retirement, decrying the group as animals, monsters who mangled, maimed and broke those who tried to stop their madness.

There are about 80 people here. The first test will drop that number by half." Slice continued, forming a pair of scissors blades with her hair.

“And what would that be?” Volcano spoke up, the man irritated, but neither Gust nor Dusty mentioned it; their boss was a short-tempered person.

Chimera smiled wider at the question. “A battle royal. Not here, we don't want the trouble, but at a pre-selected spot. The only conditions for victory are that you must take out at least 1 person, not kill someone, and be standing when the other 40 defeated go down."

Dusty could accept that, and looking around the room, she saw others did as well. It took a moment for her to realise that, like the Volcano thieves, none of the people she recognised were people who had been charged with murder.

It seems like the vetting process ensured that such people didn't get this far.

“As for the following 2 parts, we won’t say what they are now, but we can say be prepared.” Nine took things from there.

Of course, that couldn't just be it. There were questions, and Dusty wasn't about to say anything. She didn't raise her hand, nor stand like a student asking for a bathroom break; she just spoke. "I knew people who signed up for the USJ attack, the same attack you led, and you left them high and dry. How do you know you won't do the same with us?"

She addressed the question to Slice, the one she knew had been there at the time. The rest of the room followed her gaze, eager for a response.

That response came in the form of a snort and a hand wave. "Please, I didn't lead the assault then. Pyre and I were recruited the same way you were." Slice answered, as she had nothing to hide. Maybe she could have handled things better or moved in before that Todoroki brat froze the lot of them. Still, it wasn't her fault they weren't cautious about someone who could get into a top hero school.

“And where is Pyre, and Mummy for that matter?” Volcano asked, the man visibly angered by that.

"We do have things that need attending to. Did you expect to see them in person? Challenge one to a fight?" Slice shot back, giving him an amused smile as she saw he was a flame user, similar to Pyre. Shame he wasn't nearly as adorable.

Chimera cracked his neck, taking a step forward in the challenge. "If you're eager to get your bones broken, I can help with that."

“With that settled?” Nine spoke before a fight could break out. “Any takers?”

Line Break

Well, Dusty will say this. When it was all said and done, people signed up for it. She couldn't say she saw a single person walk out without giving their names and agreeing to this little recruitment.

“As if there was any doubt.” She snorted as she walked away from the theatre with the rest, some of the other villains heading to one of the men's establishments in the district to celebrate or relax.

"Most just came to get the respect that comes from being a member, I doubt most really care for the actual position, or his talk of changing the world." Gust shrugged.

“I saw a few who disprove that,” Dusty replied. Was she one of them? Not really, but she was eager to work with such a prominent and rising group. “We’re gonna need to watch out.”

"That we do, but we'll pass, and I'll first challenge Pyre. If I can beat him, I can take his spot as the Thunder's fire." Volcano clenched his hand, determined to show the kid who had become the poster for flame-based villains in Japan.

“We’ll worry about you meeting your celebrity crush after we best the rest of these people.” Dusty teased, to which Volcano shot her the nastiest glare of the night.

Line Break

Chapter 69…hehe, nice.

I really am still a fucking teenager at heart. I couldn't resist, but jokes like that help me get through those days when you just perpetually feel groggy and lacking energy. Work didn't help, but that is just a fact of life, and I'll be damned if I start missing my high school years; that hell should remain in the past.

Now, as for this chapter, I was a bit hesitant about how things went, as I wanted to have more…hero stuff, to give it a term, but ultimately decided that it wasn't important to this. Much like how in MHA proper, the villains don't get too much attention, and we can go an entire arc without them doing much, it's the same for this, just in reverse. At least I like to think that, but if you disagree, leave a comment on it.