11:52 PM – Udagawa District
The night's chill wasn't a problem.
Reiji had grown too accustod to worse temperatures to worry about a re night breeze. What truly bothered him was the sll. Dampness accumulated over years between cracked concrete walls. Stale tobacco perated every corner. Cheap alcohol spilled on the floor. Rust. Oil. Dried blood. A thick mixture that seed to cling to his throat with every breath, bringing back unpleasant mories of places he'd rather forget.
That underground parking garage concealed many secrets just a short distance away.
Officially, it had been closed for years due to structural damage. A huge, rusty sign warned of the danger of collapse, and several fences blocked the main entrance from the street. However, as was often the case with illegal activities that survived long enough, the reality was quite different from the official version.
With the right signal and so money changing hands, a side entrance would open without question.
Reiji walked through the entrance wearing a gray hoodie several sizes too big, which concealed much of his physique. Worn dark pants and ordinary sneakers completed the outfit, and, more importantly, brown contact lenses hid the distinctive orange color of his eyes, along with hair dye.
Nothing spectacular.
Nothing conspicuous.
He hadn't even completely covered his face.
Most people were simply observing what they expected to find. In a place like this, being completely hooded was odd and generated a certain amount of distrust, but no one particularly cared.
As he descended the stairs, the silence began to draw his attention.
None of it felt natural.
The streets of Musutafu were still bustling just a few ters above him, but the noise of traffic had completely vanished. He heard no engines. No conversations. Not even the distant sound of a train passing through the city.
Nothing.
As if the parking garage were cut off from the world.
'A whim'
His gaze swept the walls as he descended.
Recent tire tracks.
Footprints.
New graffiti over older ones.
Empty cans.
Broken bottles.
'Perception? Or hearing blockage?'
He still couldn't determine if his Quirk was working in the place.
Upon reaching the third level, the feeling changed imdiately.
First, he heard voices.
Then shouts.
Then applause.
And finally, the steady roar of a crowd gathered underground.
A rectangular opening covered by black tarps served as the main entrance. Two n guarded the access.
One watched him.
Then the other.
They didn't ask for ID.
They didn't ask any questions.
They didn't ask for money.
They simply assessed him for a few seconds before stepping aside.
Reiji crossed the threshold.
And the world changed.
The enormous parking lot stretched out before him like a clandestine underground city. Dozens of industrial spotlights hung from rusted beams, casting an uneven light that plunged entire areas into shadow. Generators roared constantly, powering lights, speakers, and small electronic screens scattered throughout the complex.
There were many more fights.
Bookmakers walked through the crowd collecting money.
Street vendors offered alcohol, cigarettes, and greasy food.
So individuals were discreetly negotiating in secluded corners.
Others watched the fights while taking notes on tablets.
He could even make out several n in suits who clearly hadn't co there for entertainnt.
This wasn't just an underground arena.
It was a marketplace.
One where the main commodity was people.
More than a hundred spectators filled the place.
And they all stared at the sa spot.
The fighting circle.
"RAPPA!!"
"BLOW HIM UP!!"
"SHOW THEM WHO'S BOSS!!"
The shouts echoed throughout the arena.
Reiji turned his gaze to the center.
A red-haired man stood inside the makeshift circle.
He was tall and muscular. His body was covered in old scars, with a few drops of blood running down his skin that weren't his own.
He wore a crow-like mask, which gave him a much more intimidating aura.
Before him stood a huge opponent whose skin had hardened to a stony appearance.
The fight lasted less than expected.
The hardened man threw the first punch.
Rappa responded with five.
The punches landed so fast that for a mont they seed like one. That alone completely shattered his opponent's defense, leaving him at Rappa's rcy.
Then ca such an absurd flurry of blows that several spectators began to laugh as they watched the beating.
Thirty seconds later, he lay dying on the concrete, his breath a distant gasp amidst the cheers of those celebrating or lanting their loss.
'If he survives that, it's a damn miracle...' That was Reiji's only thought upon noticing the man's condition; it didn't particularly affect him.
Rappa simply raised both arms and let out a laugh before leaving the circle.
'He's strong.'
That was Reiji's only conclusion.
He had no idea who he was.
But it was clear that this man was far superior to the rest of the fighters. And it was also clear that he was the main attraction of the night.
While the crowd continued to celebrate, Reiji began to wander around the venue.
No one seed to be paying him any attention. Or at least no one pretended to.
The place seed highly organized; he noticed that as soon as he walked in. The screens were already a good indication of that. He had co to the place just to confirm its existence and how to get in.
"New?"
A female voice appeared beside him.
Reiji barely turned his head.
A woman with grayish hair was observing him curiously. Tattoos covered much of her arms and neck. The tight clothing she wore seed designed specifically to attract attention.
"You don't look like a gambler."
Her smile widened slightly.
"You don't look like one of the fighters either."
Reiji remained silent.
The woman seed to find that amusing.
"Analyst? Recruiter? Or just so bored person looking for excitent?"
He received no answer.
She took another step closer.
"Usually, newcors try to act like they belong here. You're doing the exact opposite."
Reiji didn't reply.
He continued watching the crowd over his shoulder.
That seed to amuse the woman.
"Perhaps you're looking for sothing more entertaining."
She leaned forward slightly.
Reiji watched her for barely a second.
"Stay back."
The response was so cold and direct that even the woman seed surprised.
An absolute no.
The woman let out a small laugh.
"Too bad."
She stepped back.
"With that face, you could make a lot of money here."
And she disappeared into the crowd.
Reiji refocused on his surroundings.
The fights continued, one after another.
The blood was still fresh on the concrete. The organizers barely bothered to clean up between matches. The wounded were dragged out of the ring.
The unconscious received minimal attention.
The dead... simply vanished.
The crowd grew louder.
The alcohol flowed more freely.
It was increasingly resembling a party that was slowly spiraling out of control.
After observing for a while longer and ntally noting everything necessary, such as exits, guards, beds, etc., Reiji finally decided to leave. The commotion was starting to irritate him slightly.
His mission was complete, and he had confird exactly what the Commission suspected.
He casually turned to face one of the tables, passed between two tables full of drunks, and his gaze fell upon a new figure.
A figure. Slender. Motionless. Hooded.
Partially hidden in the crowd.
Just watching.
Watching with a damned hand draped over his face, as if it were just another elegant accessory.
'Tomura Shigaraki'
Reiji recognized him imdiately.
His body tensed for a mont, watching as the boy stared intently at the fighters inside the ring.
The mory of all the destruction and danger he represented flooded his mind, his blood instantly heating up as his body prepared to fight.
'If I stop him now...' The thought flowed on its own, guided only by the feeling that this was the best possible scenario. No matter what ca next, killing Shigaraki would ensure a safer future.
Then the commotion erupted.
A gambling table crashed to the floor right beside him, chips and drinks scattering across it as two n began shouting at each other.
"You just cheated!"
"Cheat?! Show your sleeve and throw away all the cards you've been hiding!"
Several people stepped aside, making sure not to interfere, pushing Reiji and causing him to lose sight of Shigaraki for a mont.
When Reiji looked again...
Shigaraki had vanished.
His expression remained unchanged.
But frustration set in imdiately.
He moved discreetly toward the spot.
Empty.
Only a small grayish stain remained on the concrete.
And five jagged marks.
As if a hand had rested there.
As if fingers had slowly disintegrated the surface.
"...Shit"
There was nothing more to be done.
The opportunity was gone.
'Was he looking for recruits...?'
It was possible.
Even probable.
That place was filled with violent, desperate people with useful Quirks. The U.S.J. event was due to happen soti soon, and just in ti, he'd brought in a bunch of rookie recruits.
And here it was, teeming with them.
Just the kind of individuals a criminal organization would want to recruit.
Although, if he wanted to recruit people, it only ant that what was going to happen at the U.S.J. would remain unchanged, or at least, the event itself.
'So there's a spy at U.A. then...?'
No, it didn't really make sense. Not even Reiji would know when that would happen, in days or weeks, much less a student. He'd have to have another way of getting that kind of inside information.
'I have to leave and rethink things... Shigaraki is moving, which ans trouble is getting closer.'
Reiji blended into the crowd and walked leisurely toward the exit. Like any other spectator who had decided to leave before the night was over.
No one tried to stop him.
No one asked questions.
And when he finally reached the surface, the cold air of Musutafu hit his face again.
The city was still alive.
Trains.
Lights.
Cars.
People returning ho.
Everything seed normal.
As if beneath his feet there hadn't been a clandestine arena filled with criminals and future villains.
Reiji adjusted his hood.
'I have to stop him before he takes his first steps...'
***
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