Chapter 8: The Bloody Iron Fist

"You know, it feels like forever since we last had barbecue here," Kaminari remarked, a hint of nostalgia in his voice as he followed his parents into the restaurant.

When exactly had it been since their last family outing to this place?

He still remembered the owner vividly not because of the food, but because his appearance was so startling. The man was nearly a spitting image of Saitama from One Punch Man. Seeing someone who looked that much like a famous manga character had definitely left an impression on Kaminari.

However, it seemed the owner wasn't around today. Kaminari glanced around and felt a small pang of disappointment.

"Yeah, it must've been a few years," his dad agreed as he spoke to the hostess and then followed her to their table. "The last time we were here was when I resigned and we celebrated the successful founding of our family's company."

"Please, take a seat here," the waitress, who looked like a college student working part-time, said with a polite smile as she led them to an empty table.

"Thank you," Kaminari's dad replied, sitting across from him, while Kaminari and his mom took seats on the opposite side. Being the one who knew the menu best, his dad took charge of ordering. The family had similar tastes when it came to barbecue.

"We'll start with two servings of grade-3 Osaka beef tenderloin, two glasses of ice water, and a Coke," he said, opting for plain water since he had to drive. Kaminari, of course, got his usual Coke.

"By the way, Dad, how's the company doing?" Kaminari asked casually as he leaned back, listening to the music playing softly in the restaurant. The DJ responsible for the playlist was none other than UA's teacher, Present Mic, Japan's top voice-Quirk user.

"It's doing great!" his dad replied enthusiastically. He never hesitated to discuss the company with Kaminari since its success was, in part, thanks to his son. "Pikachu merchandise is selling really well, and your 'Railgun' song is steadily climbing in popularity on MTV."

"Actually," he continued, "the song has just reached number seven on the TOP list. We're also seeing some decent revenue from the various copyrights. Overall, things are looking up!"

Kaminari nodded in satisfaction. Even without the support of the Pokémon franchise from his previous world, Pikachu's iconic design was still making waves in this one. It wasn't the cultural phenomenon it had been in his past life, but it was enough to sustain a small company and keep his family financially comfortable.

"But," his dad hesitated, "I think our product lineup is a bit too limited. Pikachu's great, but it would be better if we had a few more characters like it."

"No problem. I'll draw a few more when I get some free time," Kaminari said without hesitation. While he had no intention of becoming a full-time manga artist, he could definitely add a few more iconic characters like Squirtle or Charmander to expand the company's offerings.

"And then there's the matter of new songs…"

Kaminari didn't say this out loud but kept it in mind. He enjoyed singing far more than drawing, though he'd have to choose his next track carefully.

"Let go! A dream engraved in my heart!"

"You can also ignore the future!"

At that moment, the familiar intro to his song suddenly filled the restaurant, followed by his own voice coming through the speakers. Surprisingly, it was his mom who reacted first.

"Hey, isn't this your song?" she asked, recognizing it instantly since she had just watched Kaminari perform at his solo concert earlier that day.

"Yeah, it is," both Kaminari and his dad replied in unison. His dad, especially, had heard the song so many times due to work that he was nearly sick of it. Yet, it also highlighted a peculiar situation—Kaminari's music was popular, but he himself wasn't. Despite his song playing, no one in the restaurant seemed to realize that the artist was sitting right there.

Kaminari didn't mind, though. He was still a student, and there would be plenty of time to worry about fame when he was older. As long as he continued to release high-quality music, the recognition would come eventually.

Just then, the food arrived. The young waitress deftly handled the meat with a pair of clean spatulas, grilling the beef on the iron plate. Her movements were smooth and efficient, cutting the meat along its natural grain. There was a certain artistry to the traditional Japanese style of cooking, and Kaminari couldn't help but appreciate the show.

"All done! Now, you can add any seasonings you prefer. It's best enjoyed right away," the waitress said with a polite bow before moving on to prepare the next batch of beef.

Kaminari was used to the routine. He took the black pepper his mom handed him and sprinkled it lightly over the sizzling meat. Then, he picked up a piece with his chopsticks and savored the rich aroma before placing it in his mouth.

As mentioned earlier, their family shared similar tastes, and black pepper was a favorite for barbecued meat. But just as the three of them were settling in to enjoy the meal, a news report suddenly interrupted the background music on the restaurant's TV.

"This is NHA News. We are broadcasting an urgent update. Just an hour ago, police on patrol discovered the remains of professional Hero Plastique on Okasa Street."

"Based on preliminary investigations, authorities suspect the notorious 'Hero Killer.' The Saitama City Police Department, in cooperation with professional Heroes, has launched a full-scale search for the criminal."

"The Police Chief has also issued a warning advising professional Heroes not to act alone for the time being and urging citizens to limit their outings until further notice."

"The Chief, Yasuhei Yanai, assures the public that every effort is being made to bring the Hero Killer to justice and restore peace to Saitama City."

The broadcast ended as abruptly as it began, and the usual program resumed. But now, no one in the restaurant was paying attention to the show. Instead, whispers filled the air as customers discussed the sudden appearance of a super-criminal in their city.

It wasn't surprising; the thought of a nationally wanted criminal who had murdered over a dozen professional Heroes lurking nearby would unsettle anyone.

"The Hero Killer, huh… pretty straightforward name," Kaminari mused, taking a sip of his Coke.

"Looks like no matter what world you're in, there will always be villains like this."

Still, he had no intention of doing something reckless, like tracking down the killer to play hero. He'd just gotten a second chance at life and wasn't about to throw it away. He was only fifteen, after all. This was clearly a job for the professionals.

But just as Kaminari was lost in thought, a passionate voice rang out from a nearby table.

"Dad! I'm going to become the best Hero, and I'll catch all these bastards who harm people! If I meet this Hero Killer, he'll get a taste of my iron fist!"