(Somewhere in the darkness of a concrete room - General POV)

"This can't be right." A lanky, thin figure sits at his desk, all in an empty, trash-ridden, asphalt room. White hair, light blue and black rings around his eyes, and a pension for junk food, the man bit his finger as he continued to search for evidence on his computer.

His skin was pale, chalk in color. And his hands had multiple soft bite marks on them.

The room was eerier though, a tomb looking concrete room with no entrances or exits. No windows. Nothing, not even a vent. It was his personal haven from the outside world, a place which he could only access at specific times of the day. Every 2 hours, at 1, 3, 5, 7, 9 pm and onward he could jump into this black box at the bottom of the ocean.

For oxygen, it seemed there was a small pulsating fan that recycle the air in the room, it laid at the corner, surrounded by wrappers and chip bags; He seemed to enjoy sodas more than anything, a the entire other side of the room was layered with them. He also seemed to despise cleaning up.

This place was a dump. For how much effort it was to get a 10 by 10 meter concrete box, 12 inches thick on each side, at the bottom of the pacific, he really didn't like to maintain it at all. The several scratches on the walls and piles of fluid showed that.

The notable items in the room were two things, the hand cranked generator and old, pre quirk TV that seemed to date back a few hundred years in it's design. Both sat on his desk, with several scratch marks on each as he, from time to time, cranked the handle of the generator for a minute straight.

It was an effective way of making sure no one with a quirk like his could find him. Or maybe it just made him seem more obvious. Thankfully, with concrete that gets stronger the more sea-water it has, and several hundred 'fake' blinking boxes in the sea, no one would notice.

It took him two years to set it up, and costed him an upwards of 6.3 million in fees and manufacturing. 

The TV was another thing entirely though, it was almost alien in comparison to everything else. While the others looked futuristic, colored smoke and curved designs, the TV was old, vintage, squared on the edges, classic in some way but worn out and broken; It was garbage for many people.

Rather, it differed in its design compared to the sleek, smart TV's of the modern era. No, it looked like someone dug up a 400 year old tomb and raided their tech.

It's staticky and curved lens, flickering every few seconds, along with an internal electron beam, lit up the grey room as the only actual source of light, and almost a neon baby blue covered the mans face as he looked keenly at it.

It's taping on the side and scratched lens marks at the edges seemed to say that the device was harvested from scrap, that it was homemade. That, and the entire cover was made out of a harvested plastic.

It costed barely 400 bucks in parts; It was one of the first tools he used.

"No. Nononono. How the hell did this happen?!" he screamed as the recorded footage replayed over and over and over.

He had to be going mad. Seriously, sleep deprivation had to be getting to him; Even before he arrived here, even after checking up of the raid at the redlight district, he was already taking the night shift. It had been almost 64 hours now, al of those hours fully awake.

There was no way his security measures didn't go exactly as planned; He took care of every possibility: The windows, walls, doors, everything he could, even adding temperature sensors.

But the sensors showed nothing at all. Nada, no intruder even with a laser grid scanning the entire street around the building. There was no one outside!

Infact, even the mechanical stuff had failed, simply giving an error message, just the same with the wires and back up generator the moment the power had gone; He should have intervened then and there! Why didn't he get backup?!

By the time he checked back on them, the defuncto leader of this branch hushed him away, saying he was off for the night. And the job.

...

A few dozen rooms filled to the brim with an army worth of guards and Yakuza was seen on the screen, the recorder replayed the moment the lights went out. Panic en Mass for a moment. Then Darkness.

It lasted only mere minutes, which it shouldn't have been delayed at all since they had a back up generator! But by the time the footage has started again, everyone was already on the ground. Unconscious or Dead, he couldn't tell. He didn't want to. On screen, the recorded time jumped as the footage blinked. He was not a part of the Yakuza, so he chose to put himself first.

He decided to book it by that point, no need for hired help to risk their lives against whatever attacked them. Right? 

But the leader, again defuncto, decided to fire him?! Seriously? He said it was a training exercise, one meant to test our capabilities, and that I 'failed'. Fuck, what monster did they try training us against?!

...

"How will the bosses react? Fuck." He said as he looked

"I don't get it! How- How can someone just not exist?! How the hell am I going to report this?" He screamed as he chugged another off-brand energy drink, lemon flavored.

With a strong 'ah' sound, he threw the empty can behind him with the sound of metal being hit, moving back to work instantly.

"My ratings are going to be fucked because of this! DAMN! I wanted to take a trip to the Caribbean! Somewhere finally out of this fucking country! But noooo, just make my life worse why don't you! FUCK" He screamed as he glared at the TV in spite. He groaned and sighed in defeat as he continued moving his fingers on the keyboards.

Several voice recording and editor apps were running simultaneously, and while the camera's couldn't capture a fucking thing, he had planted remote microphones around the room for extra precaution. His job wasn't JUST to 'protect' the money and shipments, but to observe several groups and ensure no one acted out of place. He was the perfect candidate, along with a few others, to observe them because of his quirk and skills. He could be at any branch almost instantly...

But quirks and skills only have so much value when you fuck up.

He sighed as he wiped his eyes with his index. He needed to know how someone got passed his defense. Even quirks that can hide from electronics can't hide from mechanical pressure plates! Last he checked, no vigilante had this ability, so this was definitely one or the other, either a rouge or another group sending a warning; The files had no information on other Yakuza groups with this level of power.

No mass attacks have been in place, nor has there been any news of messages from Shie Hassaikai, or any broadcasting networks. This isn't a hero, that's for sure. He already had a few people on the other side to make sure of it!

"Could it be an inside job? Fuck. Wait. There's no way they'd do that! Why would they turn of us?" He said as he worked in another sequence of commands, opening specific sound files for the night.

Headphones blaring with sound, he couldn't help but repeat a particular instance of silence on the recorder, where a goon was being hit by something inaudible, yet the sound worked perfectly fine since he  It was like all of this was an act conjured by a ghost, the enemy wasn't there at all!

No distortion to prove that something masked its presence, no means of telling how someone did! The machine just didn't hear anything! Nor did the mechanical pressure sensors, nor the laser grid, the most he got was a FUCKING ERROR!

...shit. This could have been an inside job. No way. He did check, he checked all of them! They didn't have any digital records that could have matched them speaking to anyone!

If it can't be a her. Can't be a vigilante, Can't be from them either...

...

... He couldn't help but stop for a moment.

'Fuck, the 8 are going to have my head.' he murmured as he tried to find someway to sneak out of all of this. This was not the pay he signed up for, but.....

He couldn't run. Not from the Yakuza. If he did- Then his reputation underside would be fucking gone! And would his income, 4 years of hard work... His cancer was only going to get worse for fucks sake!

How the hell would get out of this.. If he died now, after everything, EVERYTHING, he's done... then..

...

'Wait. Let's not get hesitant now. I could use this.' he spoke softly, 'yeah. Alright; the fuckers betrayed the Yakuza. That's it.  There's no way someone could take out an entire troop of people. Not without help from the enemy.' he quickly glanced at his screen, fingers danced on the table.

The computer listened at his moving nails, by the clicking of his finger, whizzed and vroomed, heating the processor hot to a common, scolding 200 Celsius; It murmured like an old printed before showing several pictures. Pictures of Group 9, the group which handled the 'attack'. Something felt off about all of this.

Two brothers, Very young, AB and A blood types. Personalities: Cowardly, survivalist. More information ramped the screen; Hundreds of things were written about them.

A red headed girl, 30's, O positive blood. Personality: Volatile, aggressive, fearful.

Two men, one blond, one wearing glasses. Age difference between them was around 6 years.

O Positive and O neutral blood types. Several notes popped up on each of them.

An old man, another young man. A risk assessment level of 4+ out of 10. It wrote paragraphs of detailed biography of each person, describing the events in their lives, their upbringing, their abilities, their characteristics and individual weaknesses to keep them hushed.

It was a forensic network he designed, one that tracked every target simultaneously! How could he fail to track one person? And the dismissal he got from his 'boss', that was too suspicious.

The moment the figure saw their faces, abilities.

Risks.

One particular one stood out. The leader, an old school gangster, the type that was active when the heroes first started rising up, late into the game, but one hell of an agent.

"Risk level: 4+. Introduced by colleague of Yakuza family, may have internal connections to other families; Multiple failed tracking attempt. Failure to track, even with assisted quirks makes individual extremely dangerous, keep under constant watch."

He smiled, a very thin smile. Suddenly, it all connected. The guy had to have gotten reconnected with an old pal or two! There was no way he was off the mark, how could the network not see it!

The log marked them red. All of them. All 90 or so members were marked a mixture of red and orange from previous threat levels. Every single member was now under extreme and constant tracking. It pushed his servers abroad to their maximum, but he could at least afford that.

'Under watch' popped up on the screen over the leaders, he would soon get permission to eliminate them. All he had to do was play this right and he won't get any blame.

He could still get his reward!

'Yes' he murmured to himself, biting his finger. "This could work." He spoke louder as his eyes open in excitement. He started to type a message to his boss, Mimic, letting them know what was up.

Moments later, he reached his body into the screen and vanished. The fan and screen shut down moments later, from lack of power and visual; The message blinked on the screen before it closed.

...

[Group 9 has gone rogue. Requesting instructions.]

---

 

(Nezu's office - Izuku POV)

"Morning Izuku! I see you've finally gotten some rest. Good." Nezu grinned sinisterly as I entered the room.

I don't like that look.

"Now then. I think it's time we discussed your punishments, no?" He spoke, laughing afterwards in the most inaudible voice he could muster.

But I heard it.

The sound of Sadism.

I don't like that one bit.

"Now, since you've arrived at UA, you've made several problems. To start, You've damaged a Zero pointer when we requested you keep damage to a minimum, you've disrupted Aizawa's first class, sent three student's to the Nurse's office, and have been skipping classes. While I did give you permission for the latter, it was only time to time. Don't you think each incident deserves a punishment, Izuku?" 

Swindler.

"2 punishments" I held up two fingers.

"3." He said instantly.

"2 and detention. Weekly." I tried to weasel out of it.

"3. You've skipped your meeting with the Support Department. I'm sure you made Power Loader cry." Damn it.

"2 and I'll perform any 1 extra curricular activities."

"2 and you'll perform any 4 extra curricular activities. You also almost made a cesium reactor explode." At this point, I was considering using a favor.

"2 and a maximum of 2 extra curriculars of your choice. BUT. I get free time without punishments. Also, the reactor was stable enough, it doesn't warrant anything further." I gave him the cross arm negotiation pose and he cracked instantly; He sighed, drinking a sip of his tea before grinning madly; I don't like that.

"DEAL." He said extending his paw; I shook it immediately.

"I would have done 3 extra curriculars." I taunted. After the shake, negotiating is not allowed.

"I would have let you go Scott free. BUT HEY! YOU WOULD HAVE DONE IT FOR 3, RIGHT? HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA" He enters a sadistic laughing fest; the greatest he's demonstrated.

Shit. Did I just dig my own grave?

*Cough Cough

"Anyway. You'll be supervising the class activity tomorrow, along with Aizawa and Thirteen.

...What? WAIT A SEC-

"Thirteen? PRO HERO THIRTEEN?!" I say as my cheek muscles involuntarily rise. He seemed amused.

But he didn't see the implications of her ability. If I could 'eat' with it? I would be able to have a near endless stamina! I could instantly eradicate anything in my hands!

"Izuku. While I understand your 'fascination' with quirks, Miss Kurose has an incredibly dangerous ability. If somehow, you activated it without control, we wouldn't be able to stop you Izuku. Please, Don't try to make physical contact with her; Especially if unsupervised." He said as he shook his head at me.

He didn't say I couldn't take it at all.

...

I'll probably won't get the chance to either way; She wears an astronaut costume everywhere she goes. She isn't combat oriented either, meaning I won't be able to injure her costume and gain access to her flesh. But her quirk is an incredibly strong one. One I'll need to keep my eyes out for later on.

"Fine. I'll leave it be then; Can I go back to class now? Aizawa will be pissed if I skip out on him twice in a row." To which he chuckled.

"Alright. Right after you finish the paperwork." He grinned sinisterly.

Monster. Paperwork is the worst punishment ever.