"Come on, Izuku, only 5 meters left to drag this refrigerator and we'll have finished today's quota."
I shouted to Midoriya, who was covered in sweat and barely moving his feet. I hope he doesn't overexert himself; that would be an unpleasant result for the training.
"Coming, Iori, Ha. Just a bit more. Let me catch my breath."
A week had passed since we started cleaning this beach. Of course, we first cleared a space for warm-up and stretching exercises. By dragging trash, we could increase physical strength and endurance, but not speed and agility. So before each cleanup, we went for a run, followed by stretching exercises. While I had already undergone training and could distribute the load correctly, Midoriya could be wrung out like a rag. I had to stop him often so he wouldn't overload himself, and then carry him on my back to his house. Well, this time he seems able to walk on his own feet. I looked at Izuku lying like a starfish, having finally dragged that refrigerator. Well, hope dies last.
"Here."
"Thanks."
Izuku caught the water bottle I threw and drank greedily. During the training and our discussions about it, he had become more confident. It's a pity he wasn't confident enough to tell Bakugo to get lost. The relationship between those two surprises me a lot. While I can understand that Midoriya doesn't want to fight back because of an inferiority complex, I don't understand why this "Kacchan" has been picking on Midoriya specifically for years. Maybe the very pronunciation of the nickname "Kacchan" keeps him in a state close to someone who has taken berserker drugs? On the other hand, it's quite fun to tease him; the sacred horror on the faces of those around him and his reactions are especially amusing. Katsuki is so used to being treated with respect by everyone that the slightest teasing leaves him slightly confused and triggers aggression because he doesn't know what to do in response. Basically, our first official meeting ended with him chasing me, trying to blow me up with his nitroglycerin sweat while I laughed non-stop. I couldn't decide what was funnier—Kacchan's red face, ready to blow up anything while shouting "Die!!!", or the sight of Izuku standing to the side, whose worldview had apparently been shaken.
This time removed some weight from me, relaxed me a little. But I didn't forget my main goal—to become strong enough and, if possible, destroy my enemies. During these years, I hadn't conducted very active searches for that laboratory and the organization behind it. My strength is too weak even to oppose them, let alone destroy them. Therefore, I tried to hide one ability of my Quirk, or rather, a property of Dark Matter. By itself, it flows steadily in my body and pulsates when I use it to pass through objects. I even called this ability "Choice," because I can choose what can touch me and what cannot. Но ситуация меняется как я пытаюсь вывести её из тела. But the situation changes when I try to project it out of my body. It becomes extremely aggressive and seeks first to absorb everything around me. Even the air. If that fails, it seeks to distort or destroy. This can't be used in combat because of the high concentration required for the action. But all the benefits from this outweigh the disadvantages. Any person's energy can be absorbed and assimilated by Dark Matter, albeit with losses. The stronger the person's Quirk was, the higher the efficiency. What led me to use absorption was the fact that according to a rough calculation, it would have taken me two years of regular training to increase the amount of Dark Matter I got from that fire Quirk guy—whatever his name was. And the more Dark Matter I have, the less energy is spent on using it and the passive body enhancement coefficient increases. For a while, I feared I might be found because of the fame of the "Choice" ability presented as my Quirk, so I found out that although such an ability is rare, it is by no means unique.
Probably Midoriya, whom I'm currently carrying home, would be horrified by how many people I've killed and how many more I intend to. Even if they were all villains, criminals, drug dealers, and rapists—it doesn't change the fact that I am a murderer, killing for the sake of power and my own well-being. Therefore, Izuku is just an acquaintance; it would be hypocritical to call a person you can't trust with your secret a friend.
"Good evening, Midoriya-san. We've returned from training. Though Izuku is a bit tired, and me too."
"Hello, Iori-kun. I've prepared dinner for you both. So sit down and eat with us. It's so good that Izuku finally has friends."
Inko Midoriya—a pleasant, slightly plump woman—moved actively around the kitchen, speaking quickly and expressively. I think I realized which parent Izuku got his emotional nature and the habit of gesturing with his hands from. Rice, miso soup with meat, and steamed vegetables began to appear on the table. Knowing that arguing was useless, I sat at the table. And I simply liked Midoriya-san's cooking. Though questions about family caused problems. I had to lie about living with relatives. Sometimes I feel sad about how easily lies and withholding the truth come to me.
"Thank you, Midoriya-san. I'm sorry if I caused any inconvenience. I have to go home now. My uncle asked me to help him with something. So, goodbye. Bye, Izuku."
"Come again, Iori-kun."
"Bye, Iori. And... thanks for the help with the training. I'm glad I have a friend like you."
Izuku said, smiling brightly. In response, I showed my usual kind-hearted smile, narrowing my eyes slightly.
"You're welcome, Izuku. I was happy to help you."
After saying my goodbyes, I left the home of this small but very good family. I even feel envious sometimes seeing the relationship between mother and son. But it was more of a harmless envy. I had long since come to terms with my situation. And I don't intend to give up on my goals.
I walked toward the bar where Giran asked me to stop by, having sent a message at noon today. I could have refused, since I had paid him everything I owed (the damn penny-pincher), but I didn't want to lose a potential opportunity to get money, experience, and increase my power. After all, a large portion of the villains I killed and absorbed were found thanks to him. Although villains are useful to him for business, those who were too rowdy, uncontrollable, and openly interfering usually disappeared. So it doesn't make much difference that they disappeared with my help. I feel like a villain from an old comic book, pretending to be a good and respectable person by day, and becoming a serial killer at night. A life turned into an endless game of masks and walking on a knife's edge.
"Hold it right there, boy. These guys here need to ask you something. They saw that you stole things from them. And as compensation, all the things you have on you are required. Any objections?"
Two men of overtly thuggish appearance stopped me from the front, and one began to approach from behind. I examined the bandits thoughtfully, remembering which district I was in and if there were any hero patrols nearby. I took off my backpack, holding it in my hands, and smiled brightly, saying.
"I have objections."
I threw the backpack at the first two. Holding my breath, I made my whole self permeable to the air, and with a spin, I drove a knife into the eye of the opponent approaching from behind. I took out another knife without removing the first one from the corpse. I turned to the pair of future corpses. I smiled widely.
"I think I'm starting to like moments of the villain life like this."