"It looks like I really don't have any advantage over you."
The Hero Killer pushed himself up from the ground. The inverted triangle pupils in his eyes burned with ferocity, refusing to go out.
"Student Igarashi, this has nothing to do with you," Iida said from behind, gritting his teeth as he struggled to stand. "This incident has already dragged Midoriya and Todoroki into it."
The paralysis effect finally faded from his body.
"I'm sorry! This is all because of me—so I won't let anyone bleed again over my revenge!"
"Hey, hey, what are you saying?" Midoriya waved his hands awkwardly, pretending to be disgusted. "I'm the class rep too, you know. And friends help each other—it's normal."
He glanced at Iida's battered body and frowned.
"And besides, I didn't even bleed," Midoriya added quickly. "Against this guy, Masata actually has a huge advantage."
As if to confirm it, Midoriya suddenly felt strength return to his limbs. He sprang up with a sharp inhale.
"I think his Quirk's paralysis time varies depending on the blood type," Midoriya said seriously. "Otherwise, there's no way I'd recover this quickly."
"That's extremely useful information," Masata said sincerely. "But now that you're all back on your feet, get out of here—take the injured hero with you and notify the pros immediately."
He shrugged lightly.
"If you all stay here, I'll actually start feeling pressured."
"How can you fight him alone?!" Iida shouted anxiously. "If we surround him together—"
"Hurry up," Todoroki cut in calmly. "You're both injured. Staying here will only hold Masata back."
After spending several days together, Todoroki had already grasped Masata's fighting style clearly.
Overwhelming destructive power.
No distinction between ally and enemy.
Masata was better suited for solo combat.
Midoriya hesitated for a second, then clenched his teeth. He helped Todoroki up, handed the severely injured professional hero to Iida, and rushed toward the alley entrance.
"Don't even think about escaping!"
The Hero Killer reacted instantly, lunging forward to finish the "fake heroes" he despised.
Boom!
A wall of blazing magma erupted between them.
The Hero Killer skidded to a halt and looked up sharply.
Masata stood on the other side, magma flowing from his arm into the wall like a living extension of his body.
"I'm right here," Masata said, tilting his head. "Where do you think you're going? Or do you just not take me seriously?"
Being ignored annoyed him more than the fight itself.
The Hero Killer stared at him, teeth clenched.
"Hateful brat…"
It was because of this monster that everything had gone wrong.
The muscles beneath his arms writhed. The dried tentacles crumbled away, only for four new ones to burst out, dripping with sticky mucus as they waved through the air.
"That's seriously disgusting."
Masata grimaced. Tentacles growing from a grown man were hard to look at—though the regeneration speed was impressive.
"Scorching Hell."
In the narrow alley, magma surged up from beneath Masata's feet, flooding the ground.
Sensing danger, the Hero Killer leaped upward and clung to the walls using the suction cups on his tentacles.
"You've got nowhere left to stand now," Masata said calmly.
The magma spread rapidly, and through elemental control, Masata turned the entire pool into an extension of himself.
"Meteor Ray!"
The magma suddenly boiled.
Thin streams of molten rock shot upward, intertwining into a blazing net that lashed toward the Hero Killer on the wall.
"Tch—too strong. I can only dodge!"
Even with his enhanced body, the Hero Killer had no intention of testing magma head-on. He used all six "limbs" to dart through the alley, barely avoiding the molten barrage.
"Hah! The power's insane, but it's too slow!" he sneered. "You can't catch me!"
The magma streams chased him but fell just short each time.
Masata narrowed his eyes.
"There's no point dragging this out," he muttered. "If more people arrive, it'll get messy."
Blades couldn't cut him. Punching magma was suicide.
The Hero Killer clearly reached the same conclusion.
He began climbing upward rapidly, sticking to walls and leaping between buildings.
The ground was Masata's domain—but the sky wasn't.
"You can't fly, can you?" the Hero Killer thought coldly.
"Got you."
A voice whispered beside his ear.
The Hero Killer's pupils shrank violently.
He turned his head—
From within the magma stream he had just dodged, a human face slowly emerged.
Masata.
A massive red fist formed beside him, magma wrapping tighter and tighter as it expanded.
"Time for a shower."
Masata had fully transformed into magma, hiding within his own attack to close the distance.
With a grin, he raised his fist.
Midair, with no foothold—
The Hero Killer could only watch the blazing shadow grow larger in his vision.
Boom!!
The punch connected squarely with his face.
Like a fired bullet, the Hero Killer was blasted out of the air and slammed straight down into the magma pool below.