"Unknown righteous young man! Please spare him!"
The shout echoed down the street.
Shigaraki Tomura heard it clearly.
And ignored it completely.
Not only did he pretend he hadn't heard the voice—
The pressure of his foot on Steel Boy's head increased.
In fact, he sped up.
After all, what kind of joke was that?
Someone shows up out of nowhere, shouts for him to stop—
And he's just supposed to obediently stop?
Did he look like that kind of person?
More importantly—
Shigaraki had already made up his mind.
Once he decided someone had to die, there was no reason to suddenly change his mind halfway through.
Stopping now?
Ridiculous.
"Tch."
But in the end—
He was forced to stop anyway.
Because the newcomer clearly noticed that Shigaraki had ignored the warning and was about to finish Steel Boy off.
So instead of shouting again—
He acted.
A violent surge of air suddenly exploded toward Shigaraki.
It wasn't a physical attack.
Not exactly.
But the pressure of the air alone tore down the street like a miniature hurricane.
Shigaraki's eyes narrowed slightly.
Then he clicked his tongue again.
Without hesitation—
He stepped back and vanished from where he stood.
In the next instant—
WHOOM—!
The violent gust tore across the spot he had just been standing in.
Dust blasted outward.
Loose stones bounced across the pavement.
Even shattered fragments of asphalt skidded several meters away.
Shigaraki landed lightly a short distance away and glanced down at the ground where he had been moments earlier.
The street there looked as if it had been swept by a sudden storm.
Debris scattered everywhere.
The sheer force of that gust was enough to send an ordinary person flying.
Shigaraki frowned faintly.
If he had been hit by that airflow head-on just now…
It wouldn't have seriously injured him.
But he would have been blown aside.
And being tossed around in public like that would have been…
Annoying.
Embarrassing, even.
That was the real reason he had chosen to dodge.
After all—
There was no need to expose his real strength just to kill a useless piece of trash like Steel Boy.
That would be like using a sledgehammer to crack a peanut.
Completely unnecessary.
Still…
Shigaraki's gaze shifted slowly toward the direction the attack had come from.
The person who interfered…
Was strong.
That much was obvious.
The move had been simple—just a burst of compressed air—but the power behind it was extraordinary.
Even more impressive was the timing.
The moment that person realized shouting wouldn't stop Shigaraki, they attacked immediately.
No hesitation.
No wasted motion.
And the force had been perfectly controlled.
If Shigaraki hadn't dodged, he would have been blown away.
But if he did dodge—
Then the distance created by that moment would still make it impossible for him to finish Steel Boy in time.
Either way—
The execution was flawless.
A single move.
Yet it completely disrupted the situation.
Shigaraki's eyes narrowed slightly.
Just from that brief exchange, his mind had already drawn several conclusions.
Strong.
Experienced.
Excellent combat instincts.
Fast decision-making.
Someone like that…
Was definitely a serious opponent.
A troublesome one.
Of course—
Even though Shigaraki privately acknowledged the other party's strength…
It didn't change the irritation brewing inside him.
After all, someone had just ruined his fun.
That was enough reason to be annoyed.
So he slowly turned his head and looked toward the person who had interrupted him.
He wanted to see exactly who had the nerve to interfere.
And then—
Shigaraki froze.
For the first time since this encounter began, a genuine moment of surprise flashed across his face.
Because the person walking toward him from the other end of the street was someone he recognized.
Bright blonde hair.
A towering figure.
A ridiculous costume that looked like it had been ripped straight out of an American comic book.
And a presence so overwhelming it almost felt like the atmosphere itself bent around him.
Standing there was a man whose entire existence seemed to operate on a completely different artistic style from the rest of the world.
Like someone who had wandered out of another genre entirely.
And Shigaraki knew him very well.
All Might.
Japan's Number One Pro Hero.
The Symbol of Peace.
"Sorry about that!"
All Might raised one hand in greeting as he approached.
His broad smile shone like a spotlight cutting through the tension of the battlefield.
"Sorry about that! I was too far away, so that was the only way I could stop you!"
He spoke in a bright, almost apologetic tone.
His voice carried the effortless confidence of someone used to saving the day.
"I didn't accidentally hurt you, did I?"
The sunlight reflected off his golden hair.
The exaggerated shadows of his muscular frame made him look like a living superhero poster.
To most people, his appearance would have been reassuring.
Comforting.
Hopeful.
But to Shigaraki—
It was simply absurd.
Because this was the same man he had crossed paths with not long ago.
During the Sludge Villain incident.
Back then, Shigaraki had personally experienced the terrifying power of the Number One Hero.
And now—
That same man had appeared here again.
Standing right between him…
And his prey.
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