Chapter 141 : A New Broken World and the Beginning of the Hunt

The world we knew was over. That wasn't an exaggeration; it was a brutal fact. In one fateful night, as All For One tore open the gates of Tartarus and unleashed his demons upon the world, the pillars of hero society that we had taken for granted crumbled to dust. Hope, which had once shone as brightly as All Might's smile, was now a rare luxury.

In a small apartment on the outskirts of Musutafu, an ordinary family—the Tanakas—sat in front of their television in a tense silence. The father, an accountant, hadn't been able to go to work for the last three days. The train line had become the territory of a villain with a metal-controlling Quirk who had escaped from a medium-security prison. The mother anxiously counted their remaining food supplies, as the surrounding stores had been looted or closed. Their eight-year-old daughter no longer drew superheroes; she drew monsters and shadows. On the television, the non-stop emergency broadcast showed the same scenes all over Japan: cities on fire, terrified civilians, and overwhelmed heroes. They would see a hero they once admired give a press conference, his face full of exhaustion and defeat, as he announced his retirement. "I... I'm not strong enough anymore," he would say, his voice breaking. For the Tanaka family, and millions of others, the message was clear: no one was coming to save them anymore. They were on their own.

The last bastion of order in Japan was U.A. High. Our school was no longer just an educational institution; it had transformed into a fortress of refuge, housing hundreds of displaced civilians and serving as one of the emergency command centers for the remaining heroes. Its high walls, which once felt like part of a grand architecture, now felt like prison walls separating us from a dying world.

The atmosphere at the Alliance Heights dorm had lost all its cheerfulness. Laughter and jokes had been replaced by silent, intense training sessions and whispered conversations about the latest news. But the biggest blow to us, Class 1-A, came not from the outside, but from within. One morning, we found a letter in front of Izuku Midoriya's door. A farewell letter.

He had left.

In his letter, he explained—vaguely, to protect his secret—that he was All For One's primary target. By staying at U.A., he would only endanger us all. So, he chose to leave, to lure the devil away from us, to fight alone in a broken world.

Our class's reaction was a storm of grief and anger. Uraraka cried in Tsuyu's arms. Iida stood frozen, feeling like he had failed as a friend and as class president. And Bakugo... he didn't scream. He just punched a wall with enough force to make it crack, his face a mask of cold, repressed rage. "You damn... idiot," he growled, not at Midoriya, but at his own helplessness.

I received a letter too. The one addressed to me was slightly different. 'Tatsumi-kun,' it read. 'You and I, we both carry different, but equally heavy burdens. I know you understand why I have to do this. Please... take care of everyone for me.' I crumpled the letter in my hand, a deep respect mixed with a burning frustration. He had chosen the path of a martyr.

In the midst of all this despair, I was summoned. Not as a student, but as an asset. I stood in the U.A. underground war room again. Before me, on a holographic screen, was Ryukyu's face. She was at a command post in Fukuoka, looking tired but her eyes blazing with a steely determination. Nezu, Aizawa, and All Might stood beside me.

"The situation is worse than we anticipated," Ryukyu said without preamble. "The remaining pro heroes are spread too thin. We are bound by protocols and public scrutiny. We can't move fast enough or hard enough. Many of the Tartarus escapees are hiding in gray zones, places where our authority is limited." She looked at me through the screen. "But you... you are not bound by those rules."

"You are 'Tyrant'," she continued, using my hero name for the first time as a designation, not just a name. "You are a ghost. You don't exist on any official records as an active hero. Your power is an anomaly. You can move in places we cannot reach. You can do what must be done, without being tied down by bureaucracy."

I understood where this was going. "What is my mission?" I asked, my voice calm.

"This is no longer just about gathering intelligence," Ryukyu said. "This is a 'cleanup' operation. I will give you a list of targets. The most dangerous Tartarus escapees, the gang leaders who are taking advantage of the chaos. You will hunt them, one by one. You will incapacitate them, neutralize them, by any means necessary. My agency will provide logistical and intelligence support from afar, and the pro heroes will come in to 'clean up' after your work is done. Officially, you were never there. This is a black ops mission."

This was a huge leap. From a student to a black ops agent, a bounty hunter working for the heroes.

"For that, you'll need better equipment," Nezu said. He gestured, and a large metal briefcase was brought in. Inside was my new hero costume. Momo, working with U.A.'s support department for the past few weeks, had created it based on all the data from my fights. The material was a carbon-reinforced polymer fiber, lighter yet stronger. The color was a deep, matte black, with no flashy accents, designed for stealth. But most importantly, along the arms and legs, there were energy channels designed to help me channel and stabilize Incursio's partial manifestation, reducing the pain and strain on my body. It was a masterpiece of technology and creation.

I had to say goodbye. That was the hardest part. I gathered my 'circle of trust'—Momo, Nejire, Uraraka, and Tsuyu—in the quiet common room. I couldn't tell them the details of my mission, but I told them I would be leaving U.A. for a while for a long-term special mission with Ryukyu.

"You're leaving?" Uraraka whispered, her eyes welling up. "After Midoriya-kun also..."

"It's necessary," I said gently. "There are things only I can do."

Momo handed me the briefcase containing my new costume. "Be careful, Tatsumi-san," she said, her voice filled with concern. "Don't do anything reckless."

Nejire, now much more mature after her experience, just hugged me tightly. "Come back safe," she whispered. "Ryukyu-san needs you. We... we need you."

Tsuyu gave me a small frog charm. "For luck, kero."

I left Alliance Heights in the middle of the night, escorted by Aizawa to a secret pickup point. I didn't look back. I couldn't.

The world outside U.A.'s walls was a different place. Dark. Silent. And full of danger. I wore my new costume, its hood covering my face. I felt a new unity with Incursio. The dragon's heartbeat within me felt calm, ready. After receiving the legacy from the original Tatsumi, I was no longer just borrowing his power. I was his heir.

I switched on the communicator in my ear. A file from Ryukyu appeared on the high-tech contact lens Momo had made. It was my first target. A Tartarus escapee with a Quirk that could manipulate molten metal, who had taken over a small industrial district and turned it into his personal fortress, terrorizing the remaining residents.

I stood on the roof of a dark skyscraper, looking at the smoking district in the distance. The cold night wind blew my cloak. I no longer felt like a lost student. I didn't feel like a soldier forced to fight. I felt something else. A cold, clear purpose.

I raised my right arm. With a calm and controlled will, without pain, the black blade of Dragon's Fang formed with a barely audible hiss of energy. Its jet-black surface absorbed the dim city light. I looked at it, then toward my target.

"The hunt begins," I whispered to the silent night.