The news the next morning felt like a slap in the face. On the television screen in the agency's common room, a news report showed images from the port district, which was now sealed off by police tape. A notorious human trafficker, who had evaded the law for years, was found dead in his office. The cause of death was familiar: a single, clean, and lethal slash wound.
The entire room fell silent. My grim hypothesis from the day before had now become an undeniable fact. We were dealing with someone who possessed an absolute killing ability.
"She struck again," Uraraka said in a low voice, her face pale. "Even after knowing heroes were watching her."
"That shows an incredible level of confidence," Tsuyu added, her expression somber. "Or desperation, kero."
Nejire, who was floating gently near the ceiling, no longer asked her cheerful questions. Her face held a serious expression I had rarely seen. "She's so fast. So clean. Whoever she is, she's a true professional."
Ryukyu turned off the television. "Enough," she said, her firm voice cutting through the tension. "Panic and speculation won't help us. What we need is preparation." Her eyes then fell on me. "Tatsumi-kun, with me to the training room. The rest of you, continue your analysis of this fourth victim. Find a connection, no matter how small."
I followed her to Training Room Gamma. The atmosphere between us felt different today. This was no longer just a teacher-student training session. This was a commander preparing her weapon for war.
"This killer is fast, silent, and lethal," Ryukyu said as we stood in the center of the empty room. "When you face her—and you may have to—you won't have time for a painful, full manifestation like at the festival. It's too slow, too risky. You need speed and efficiency. Today, we're going to drill your partial manifestation until it becomes a reflex."
The training that followed was the most grueling I had ever experienced. Ryukyu had me try to summon and retract my right gauntlet over and over again. "Again," she said every time I succeeded, her voice leaving no room for rest. "Faster. Don't think. Just feel."
Sharp pain became my companion for the next hour. Each manifestation felt like a pulled muscle, and each retraction felt like an electric shock. But amidst the pain, I began to notice something. My recovery time between each attempt was getting shorter. The pain was still there, but its intensity diminished more quickly. My passive healing ability was working overtime, adapting to the new kind of stress I was putting on my body.
"Good," Ryukyu said after I managed to manifest and retract the gauntlet in under two seconds. "Now the left arm."
We repeated the process. Left arm. Right leg guard. Left leg guard. The pain became background noise, replaced by a sharp focus. My mind and body were beginning to understand the process, building muscle memory for an act that should have been impossible.
Nejire entered the training room, carrying some water bottles. She had finished her aerial patrol. "Whoa, whoa! Look at that!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she saw a black leg guard form on my leg then disappear. "It's like you're putting on and taking off clothes super fast! Does it feel like that? Is there a 'click' sound in your head when it works?"
Her innocent way of describing it somehow helped me. I stopped thinking of it as a painful biological process and started thinking of it as a simple action. 'On' and 'off'.
"Now," Ryukyu said, ignoring Nejire's interruption. "Try both at once. Gauntlets and leg guards."
This was the next step. I took a deep breath, focusing my energy not on one point, but on four at once. I felt the heat in my chest split, flowing to my arms and legs. With a suppressed growl, I succeeded. Both gauntlets and both leg guards formed simultaneously. I stood there, panting, feeling a balanced power flowing through my limbs. I had defense for my hands and mobility for my feet. This was a huge leap in my combat readiness.
That afternoon, we gathered again in the operations room. Uraraka and Tsuyu had found some interesting information, but no clear leads. Frustration was beginning to set in.
"We're just reacting to her actions," Ryukyu said, massaging her temples. "We need to be one step ahead of her. We need to predict her next target."
All eyes turned to me. I had become their de facto lead analyst. I stared at the data board, feeling the pressure. I couldn't keep pulling miraculous deductions out of thin air. Sooner or later, they would become suspicious. But I also couldn't let someone else die if I could prevent it. I had to take another risk.
I studied the victims' profiles. The killer, Akame, was targeting the most heinous of criminals. Smuggling, drugs, human trafficking. She wasn't just killing villains; she was cleaning up society's trash. Who was the next most logical target? I scanned the list of high-class villains in the territory. My eyes stopped on one name.
"This man," I said, pointing to a profile. "Hayato 'The Collector' Tanaka. Publicly, he's a wealthy art dealer. But in the underworld, he's the most ruthless loan shark in the city. He's known for taking body parts from clients who can't pay as his 'collection.' He's extremely cruel, but he's very good at covering his tracks. He's exactly the type of target someone with a twisted sense of justice would hate the most."
Ryukyu looked at the profile, then at me. "That's a considerable leap in logic, Tatsumi-kun. But it's the best lead we have." She straightened up. "Alright. Tonight, we'll conduct surveillance on Tanaka's penthouse. My pro-team and I will take position. The rest of you will stay here, at the agency, as the support team. Do not leave this building. Understood?"
We all nodded.
Night fell quickly, bringing with it a chill and a sense of tension. From the operations room, we monitored communications from Ryukyu's team. They had taken positions on the rooftops across from 'The Collector's' luxurious penthouse, waiting in silence.
Hours passed. Nothing. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe my knowledge from another world didn't apply here. Then, around two in the morning, our radio crackled to life.
"Movement," whispered the voice of one of Ryukyu's sidekicks. "A shadow on the north rooftop. Incredibly fast."
My heart began to pound. It was her.
On the moonlit rooftop, Ryukyu saw her. A dark figure moving with inhuman speed and silence. The figure leaped across the gap between buildings as if gravity didn't apply to her, landing without a sound. She was heading straight for the penthouse window.
Ryukyu didn't wait. She gave the signal to her team and shot forward to intercept. She landed between the figure and the window, blocking her path. "Stop right there," Ryukyu said, her voice calm but full of authority.
The figure stopped. It was a young girl with long black hair and cold red eyes. Akame. She looked at Ryukyu, then at her team that was beginning to surround her. She assessed the situation in a split second. Her mission was to kill the target. Engaging in a fight with the No. 10 Pro Hero and her team was a mission failure. She showed no emotion. She said not a single word. With one swift motion, she threw a small sphere at the ground at her feet.
POOF!
A thick, black smoke instantly enveloped the area.
"She's trying to escape!" a sidekick yelled.
Ryukyu lunged into the smoke, trying to grab her. But it was too late. When the smoke cleared a few seconds later, the girl was gone. Vanished without a trace, as if she had never been there. Ryukyu stood alone on the empty rooftop, the night wind feeling cold against her skin. The target was safe, but the killer, the ghost, had slipped through her grasp.
In the operations room, we all listened with bated breath as the report came in over the radio. Ryukyu's voice was tense and slightly frustrated. "Target is secure. Suspect has escaped." There was a brief pause that felt like an eternity. "She's... faster than we imagined. Much faster."