Chapter 1
October 31st, 2118. Tokyo, Japan.
The town is filled with people dressed in Halloween costumes. However, in this era, there's a subtle difference between Halloween and hero costumes. Heroes usually have costumes that scream "look at me," so people these days admire how they dress because that's how important they are now—the heroes.
"KYAAA! Amai Mask! Please shake my hand!"
Amidst the crowd stood a young man in his late 20. He had a shining, handsome face as he smiled at all his fans.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your support, which allows me to bear this heavy responsibility to protect our society!"
He spoke as the crowd screamed.
Amai Mask is 8th in the rank of the Heroes Billboard and is well-known among female audiences. He is also an actor and model, making him a resourceful hero. Many hero agencies want his signature because of his excellent public relations, which could skyrocket a small agency's value.
"Hah... did you see all those shitheads back there?" Amai Mask chuckled as the people around him laughed. He raised a glass of wine and continued, "We have to run the business, don't we? But thank god there's a place like this."
He referred to the most private entertainment venue in Tokyo, accessible only to a select few. Typically, individuals like businessmen, politicians, or mafia members meet with big-shot heroes behind the public eye.
It is also a place where heroes like him can do whatever they please.
"I'm glad you like Red Circle, Mister Mask," said the man beside him. "But what do you think about the newbie who just came from America and does as he pleases?"
Mask raised his brow. "You mean that guy who calls himself All Might or whatever?"
"Yes. He became 10th within just a year and might—no, he'll replace the current 1st hero, who's retiring soon."
Mask chuckled. "Poor Endeavor. He always worked to be first, but now the same guy who beat him in high school beats him again. But this is a serious problem. All Might will clean up Tokyo—no, all of Japan's Underground—and our Boss won't like that." He smiled at the Tokyo mayor, who had mentioned it first, as the mayor began sweating nervously. "That's why All Might will be dead soon, Mister Mayor."
When Mask mentioned the Boss, the room fell silent, a testament to how feared the man was—the so-called King of the Underworld.
"What about him? The Lockdown."
Mask paused and glanced at the mayor, who continued anxiously, "He warned us to be careful with the man we know nothing about—no face, no name, just 'Lockdown.' He's hunting all of us for the Boss."
"True, but what can we do? He might be after y—"
Before the mayor could finish, his body stiffened. His blood seemed to freeze, his chest tightened unbearably, and he wished for death.
"Keuk."
"Am I so weak I could be killed that easily? Choose your next words carefully, Mister Mayor, or I'll make your head explode."
Amai Mask, the 8th-ranked hero, possesses a quirk: blood control. He can manipulate blood, including others', to paralyze them. He is famed for swiftly capturing villains, avoiding prolonged fights that cause collateral damage.
"I-I'm sorry! Please have mercy, sir!"
Mask released the mayor and stabilized his bloodstream. Still, the mayor wasn't wrong—Lockdown remained a mystery. Mask pondered deeply, unable to trace his missing men. He suspected Lockdown's involvement, yet there was no evidence: no bodies, no blood. Quirk-user battles always leave traces, but here, nothing.
Is he a ghost?
The thought unnerved him. What kind of man targets a Boss who's practically immortal?
They sighed inwardly. Suddenly, the door opened, letting in the sound of music and revelry before closing again. A man in a suit announced, "Sir, everything is ready."
Mask smiled. "Let's discuss this later. For now, ensure heightened surveillance—cover everything. Well then, good evening, gentlemen. Enjoy your time here."
---
The Red Circle has everything to satisfy its customers' needs, including lavish rooms. After a while, Mask arrived at his room. With a little smirk on his face, he looked at the girl who was gritting her sharp teeth while covering her body with a white bed sheet.
"Rumi-chan, you look beautiful," Mask said with a sweet smile.
He wasn't lying. It truly came from his heart. He thought, How is that a 14-year-old girl's body? The lingerie she wore only made him even more aroused.
The girl snorted. "I don't care. Before that, can I trust you? Will you keep your promise to give me that pill for my mother?"
Mask laughed. "You're really impatient as always. Of course, the miracle pill that even money can't buy is easy for me. My people already ordered it from FLT, the company that made it. Are you satisfied now?"
Mask smiled as the girl with long rabbit ears slowly lowered her ears. For Mask, it was really satisfying to see the ring fighter in Red Circle—who was not just famous for her strength but also her unyielding pride—now lowering her ears like a cute pet.
The truth was, Mask wanted to devour this girl already, but he enjoyed the feeling of conquest.
Meanwhile, Usagiyama Rumi felt disgusted with her body. She knew that this Amai Mask was just human trash who dared to lay his hands on a minor like her, yet he was a famous hero who was supposed to have the most shining public image, even among other heroes. That Amai Mask?
'Fuck him. But this is for Mom. I have to do this so I can heal her cancer.' Rumi clenched her fists.
It made her sad that, at 14 years old, she had to do this. Fighting in the ring for a couple of bucks that were only enough to feed her little sister and sick mother while also having to cover her mother's cancer medication. So when Amai Mask approached her and made this offer, Rumi agreed as long as he could give her that miracle pill.
"Fine. Just get this over with already."
Hearing that, Mask nodded. "Right then. Can I take a shower first?"
"Whatever. Tch."
Seeing Rumi still trying hard to resist made Mask even more amused. He then walked to the bathroom. As he arrived, the inside had dim lighting, but the background was a beautiful cityscape. He wasted no time and took a shower. After finishing, he went to the cabinet and brushed his teeth. He looked in the mirror as he brushed, admiring how good he looked.
"Rumi-chan?"
When he looked back at the king-size bed, the white-haired bunny-girl lay unconscious. However, what he actually saw was the silhouette of… a man in a long black coat over an all-black suit. The silhouette, positioned against the city view, just sat there on the sofa with one leg crossed over the other. And the most chilling part was the mask… it looked more like a black metal helmet. The helmet's glass was tinted black, with a vertically positioned oval in the middle, glowing green as text and other data continuously scrolled across it—seemingly some kind of high-tech HUD.
Amai Mask smiled. "To be able to be this stealthy even when we're facing each other like this..." He was impressed. Normally, he could detect blood and identify a person. "Are you perhaps Mister Lockdown? Should I call you 'Mister'?"
The man behind the black metal mask leaned on the sofa while slowly reaching for something behind his suit—a gun with a silencer.
"So you're here to kill me? Once everyone finds out that their beloved hero is murdered, they'll all be looking for you. But at least we could negotiate. How about working for me?"
Mask didn't get a response as the man slid his gun.
"I don't like working for pedophiles. But I am interested in learning how you've kept your youth for almost 100 plus years. Am I correct, Mister Yamada Sasaki?"
There was a pause before Mask smiled at the man. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't bother denying it. I'm certain of who you are, Yamada. You lived when Quirks first appeared. How could a person change their blood type constantly, as if they were a vampire or something?"
Mask furrowed his brow deeply. "Who the hell are you?"
Instead of answering, the man stood up. Feeling threatened, Amai Mask activated his Quirk—Blood Control. His red eyes glowed in the dark as Lockdown suddenly halted in his tracks.
"Well, it doesn't matter. I'll just kill you here with my own quirk."
Mask powered up his Quirk. He had already gained control of this man's blood system and was ready to make him explode. However, the man didn't flinch.
"Impressive. Very nice."
Mask raised an eyebrow at this.
"You intend to give me cardiac arrest and disrupt my brain's blood flow, causing a stroke at the same time. Is that your plan?"
Mask's eyes widened as he rushed at him. With a combo jab to the stomach followed by a strong kick, Amai Mask was sent flying into the kitchen cabinet.
"H-How? I'm sure I already stopped your heart, Lockdown," he said, coughing up blood.
Clack. Lockdown calmly took out his gun and asked, "Did you think this is where I do a monologue and explain how I undid your Quirk?"
Mask gritted his teeth. "Then what the hell do you want from me?!"
"I'm glad you finally asked." He pointed his gun at Amai Mask. "Where is the man named Shigaraki—All For One, now?"
"What? How... how do you know that name?" Mask was speechless.
"Answer the question."
His shocked expression then turned flat. "Ha... hahaha… HAHAHAHA!"
Mask's body suddenly turned even paler. His hair turned white, his eyes glowed red, and his body became bulkier and taller. His nails turned into sharp claws, and his teeth grew into fangs.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Lockdown, had anticipated this. He already suspected that Amai Mask was hiding the true nature of his Quirk. However, he wouldn't just stand still while this man had a power-up like anime villain moment.
Yet, his bullets merely bent upon hitting Mask's skin and dropped to the floor pathetically.
'After I attacked him before, I'm convinced… his body is only slightly stronger than an ordinary man, just like me.'
Lockdown tilted his head slightly, examining Amai Mask's true form. He was now 7'2". Of course, Lockdown had done his research on this guy first, but he was still amazed.
"GRRR! Do you think you can hurt me with a weapon designed for monkeys? Still, Lockdown, I have to give you credit for pushing me into this form."
Fwish!
Mask dashed instantly, appearing right in front of Lockdown and lunging his right fist at him.
However, in that short moment, Lockdown—having trained in martial arts from a Ninjutsu master—was prepared. He blocked the punch with both arms, though the sheer difference in strength still sent him backward.
"You managed to block that?"
Mask had put everything into that strike. But why was Lockdown still standing? His hands should have been destroyed. He glanced at his own hand, frowning deeply, then looked back at Lockdown.
"What trick did you just use?"
Mask felt his right arm go numb, as if it had been torn and sliced from the inside. He could feel his body trying to repair the damage, but he now understood—Lockdown had weakened his attack by slicing through his right arm's muscle.
Instead of answering, Lockdown removed his coat, leaving only his suit. He then lowering his center of gravity. Silently, he flicked his left hand, mocking the Vampire—inviting him to come at him.
"Fine. I'm going to force you to speak, even if I have to drain your blood from your veins!"
Mask screamed as they clashed head-on. He tried everything he could to land a hit on Lockdown, but the masked man effortlessly evaded, parried, and weakened every attack. Mask grew increasingly frustrated as his efforts amounted to nothing.
Grinding his sharp teeth, Mask's red eyes glowed as blood rushed from the floor, forming a crimson spiky spear. However, his attack was too obvious. Lockdown swiftly raised his left hand to the ceiling, launching a thin metal string that shot out a sharp anchor.
Mask watched as Lockdown leaped to the ceiling, propelled by the gadget on his wrist. The metal string screeched as it reeled him upward. While airborne, Lockdown reached behind his waist and flung four shurikens. Mask scowled, forced to dodge them despite not knowing what trick Lockdown was attempting.
Tak! Tak! Tak! Tak!
The shurikens struck the curtain wall glass, cracking it.
Mask, now in his transformed state, dodged with ease and created distance between him. However, Lockdown, still hanging upside down from the ceiling, threw another set of projectiles. Two small metal balls flew toward Mask and exploded midair, releasing a greenish smoke that spread around him. He sniffed and instantly recognized the scent.
"Garlic..." Mask scowled, glaring at the masked man above. "You really have a sense of humor, Lockdown. I'll give you that. But you're well prepared. Unfortunately, garlic won't do anything to me—except force me to take another bath to rid myself of this ridiculous smell."
The crimson spear dissipated, reverting into a mere puddle of blood. Meanwhile, Lockdown landed skillfully, turning his back on the cracked glass where the shurikens had struck.
"Putting that aside, I'm truly impressed. You're highly skilled. Whatever quirk you're hiding, you have experience and resources. If you consider joining our ranks, you'll get twice what you have now." Mask spread his arms, his voice laced with arrogance. "For example, my true power isn't just blood control. My quirk, Vampire, grants me strength, speed, and immortality."
Blood from every corner of the room surged toward him, forming above his head at a rapid pace, shaping itself into a long, deadly sword.
SWISH!
The blood sword tilted downward slightly before lunging at breakneck speed, piercing Lockdown's chest. The force of the attack sent him hurtling backward until the blade pinned him against the glass window. Mask smirked, admiring the sight: Lockdown impaled against the glass, the city skyline serving as a dramatic backdrop.
"That's right. I am beyond human—"
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!—
The four shurikens embedded in the glass above him began emitting a red glow, beeping rapidly. The pointed blades retracted inward, triggering a light of blinding shine that engulfed the entire room.
"GAAHHHHH! AHHH!"
Mask shrieked in agony. Like a man drowning in fire, he clawed at the air, desperately shielding his face from the merciless radiance. His skin sizzled, burning away as smoke rose from his charred flesh.
Then, a shadow loomed, shielding him from the onslaught of light.
PSSH!
The sound of his sizzling flesh filled the room. He instinctively recoiled, retreating his hand to the safety of the shadow. But when he looked up to see his savior, his breath hitched.
A silhouette stood before him.
Mask squinted. To his shock, it was the very man he had just impaled with his blood sword.
Lockdown, standing unharmed, gripped the blood-sword impaling him and effortlessly pulled it free. The blade sizzled, releasing a hissing cloud of smoke before liquefying back to the floor. His chest, where the weapon had been embedded, was not only healed—his suit remained intact as if untouched.
"What? H-How...?" Mask's voice trembled.
The masked man ignored him. "Where is he? Where is All For One?"