Chapter 78: The Hunt Begins

Having had their auction, the Thunder might have made serious cash selling off thier stole wares, but it's not as if those who bought them didn't take full advantage of thier purchases to boast themselves and thier businesses.

The next day after the U.A.'s Culture Festival, life went on. With the event closed to the general public this time, most didn't really care about it. Toyohashi was one such city, but the mood had shifted over recent months. With All Might's retirement, crime had been on a steady rise, and despite its size, it wasn't a city with any pros in the top 50 calling it home.

That worked out just fine for Gearshift. The fewer pros around messing with her business, the better. The middle-aged, burnt orange-haired woman was lounging casually against her metal counter in her dimly lit workshop. One set up out of the way and as unnoticeable as possible, as for people like her, they didn't rely on customers spotting them; they relied on word of mouth.

And it seemed like someone was interested as her new assistant let in a customer, a large, broad-shouldered man wrapped in a heavy coat. As he stepped in, he was hit by the smell of oil, welding, and hot plastic. Gearshift smirked at how his nose wrinkled, as it was an acquired taste, but one that had become her pride.

"Are you the one?" they asked as she smirked at the man and reached for a pack of cigarettes.

“You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, whatta need?” She asked, snapping her fingers. She used her quirk to create a bubble of flames, which she stuck the end of her cigarette into it to light it.

"Something durable, easy to conceal, and won't crap out on me when I fight some punk pro." The potential client listed, to which she nodded as she tapped into an old-looking computer to her side, checking through their stock.

“And your quirk?” She asked.

"I can boast my strength 20 times in my right arm, but I don't have the durability to make it count." To demonstrate, he removed the coat and allowed his right arm to glow red, his muscles visible, bulging until his right arm was three times the size of his left.

Gearshift looked him over, a little underwhelmed by it, but it wasn't like she was a big-name support engineer. She'll take what she can get. “You sure you didn’t increase your right side’s strength doing else? I won’t judge.” She joked, to which the man narrowed his gaze, growling in anger.

“You got something or not?” He kept his cool as Gearshift smirked, but went back to checking through their stock on her system. A minute later, she finished and turned to him.

"Seems like I have something that will be right up your alley. Give me a sec to get it." She stood up fully, revealing more of the grease-covered overalls she wore as she turned and walked into the back, passing by some of her girls as they worked on other gear.

She didn't speak with them, having learned the hard way that disturbing a mechanic with a power tool was a fast way to earn more scars, but they didn't get in her way either, as each had their own space. Reaching the back where finished goods were stored, she pulled out her necklace, from which three keys sat.

Without so much as looking, relying on how they felt in her strong, rough hands, she picked one and slotted it into the heavy bolt lock, groaning as it unlocked. Behind the door was a second door; again, she picked a second key and opened it. The last and biggest seemed to have a lock, but that was a trap. As she stepped back and turned to the side.

On the wall was a simple painting, the type one buys for cheap and hangs just to fill up an empty white wall. Removing it was a keypad, and she quickly put in the 8-digit passcode. Once in, the third and final door unlocked, allowing her entry into the vault.

The client saw none of this. He only had to wait a couple of minutes before Gearshift returned with a sleek, reinforced gauntlet with interlocking plates that seemed like metal and also like ceramic plates.

"This," She introduced, holding up the support item. "It doesn't have a name; you can figure that out, but it's light, built from reinforced alloy, and equipped with a kinetic absorption lay. For every kilo of force you hit something with, you'll only feel about one 6th the typical response. You can switch it up to just one 10th, but that's not good for long-term use.

The man eyed the device, but didn't move to take it to inspect, not that she would let him. "It looks good, but I ain't here to buy shit that just looks good."

"Oh, you wound me," Gearshift smirked. I'm not just selling you a pretty face. This is worth every penny, and unlike so many other things on the market, it has something they lack."

“What?” The client hardly seemed impressed, but she knew what she would say would change his tune.

"It was based on designs out of I-island's best minds." She revealed, tapping at the gauntlet. "Same materials, some calibration tech, just modified to suit a more…broad clientele."

That got a reaction out of him. “You’re shitting me.” He replied, looking at the gauntlet once more, as if finally noting that it was much better than most back-alley support items.

"Nope, the Thunder was kind enough to sell us support engineers a bunch of their liberated goodies to do whatever we want. So, you can get that same level of quality without all that boring paperwork and legal barriers stopping paying folk like you from getting this.” She bragged, as she knew when she had a sale

“How much?” He asked, already reaching for his pockets.

“700K.” She smiled at how his face whitened at the price.

“S-seven what?! Are you insane?” He yelled, slamming his hands on the table, glaring at her as he tried to intimidate the woman with his greater size and strength. Her assistant pulled a knife, but she calmed her with just a look.

Turning her focus back toward the pissed client, she took a slow drag of her cigarette, enjoying the rich flavour-

Before buffing it noxious smoke right into the bastard's face, causing him to flinch and pull back, coughing as he waved his hands around like he had walked through a spider's web, as he looked like a fool, she snapped back with her smirk, firmly in place. "You're buying quality here, buddy. You think I'll sell that short of stuff cheap? Hell no, I need to milk this and get my investment back."

She had to fight to secure even the few pieces she managed to get at Giran’s auction. 12 million didn’t grow on trees, but it was the best investment she's made in years of doing what she loved.

“400K.” The client managed to clear his lungs and give a counteroffer that seemed like an insult. She would call it cute if his was…well, cute, but he wasn't pretty enough to try to undermine her.

“700K.” She shot back.

“420K.” He raised it, just a little.

“700K.” And she left the price the same.

“450K?” Another rise, but it wouldn’t count.

“800K.” She countered, and the poor bastard looked close to pulling his hair out.

"What the fuck, you raised the price?" He accused, but she shrugged.

"Because time is money and you're wasting it. If you don't want it, you can piss off I know I can sell this shit before the end of the week." She pointed to the door, one which her assistant had already opened to let the man out.

“Wait, what!” The client stopped things, as he could see the look in the copperhead heteromorph. And he could see her frankly, ridiculously sharp and jagged knife that she couldn't possibly have gotten from a store.

She wanted him out, so he had to beg. “Come on, you’re bleeding me dry, 550?”

Gearshift watched him, saying nothing for what felt like an hour. The woman seemingly debated the pros and cons of accepting his reduced offer. She took a long drag of her cigarette, finished it, and tossed the bug into a bucket of water to the side.

This time, she didn't breathe out a single puff of smoke, ingesting it to fuel her quirk. "Tell you what. You look like you…a 6 out of 10, so instead of a date, I'll drop it down to 600K? Offer lasts 10 seconds." She held up her hand, counting down the seconds on it.

As she reached 4, the client’s will broke first. “Should have known….fine.” He grumbled as he pulled out his cash, counted it, and handed her a large stack. She did not touch money, but her assistant snatched out his hands and made a quick count.

Only when she was sure he wasn't trying to underpay did she nod towards Gearshift, who handed the man the support item, along with a small instruction and maintenance manual.

“Pleasure doing business with you!” She waved as he turned to leave.

“Cunt.” He grunted as he walked out, her assistant slamming the heavy door behind him.

Like her, she was a gearhead and dressed the part. But unlike her boss and fellow gear sisters, she was a heteromorph, a large, muscular woman who looked like a cross between a snake and a crocodile. "Ma'am, wasn't the item being sold at 450?" she asked, her voice coming out rougher and deeper than one would expect of a woman who was only 19.

"The First rule of this life is always to aim to make your money back, or do you not like when I pay you?" Gearshift instructed as she accepted the money and quickly placed it into a safe to the side. She'd need to deposit it at the end of the day.

“Shutting up.” Her assistant pulled her pinched thumb and finger across her lips, though she couldn’t stop the smile from forming.

“Good girl.” Gearshift chuckled as she turned to get back to work, as they had plenty of other items to finish before she could sell them, only to pause when they felt the place jolt and heard a hard thud. “What the?”

"The hell was that? I nearly burned myself!" one of the others called out, as they also felt that, and then the second, which was followed by their client's yelling.

Gearshift snarled. “I swear, if that bugger-!” She assumed he was tearing up the business up top, no doubt to try and get the pros involved.

That assumption was shattered along with the 4-inch steel door as it was blown off its hinges in pieces, along with the now bloody and unconscious client who slammed into the wall, falling to the floor in a pile.

"Looks like I finally found you." Everyone looked towards the doorless frame and spotted someone they had very much not wanted there. The intruder was small and came with white rabbit ears, but not a single person with more than three brain cells would assume she was some weak or cuddly rabbit.

With a look that promised pain, Mirko asked the group of underground dealers, "So, are you going to make this quick or fun?"

Line Break

"Well, we made it fun for her at least. God knows what she's like in the sheets if that's how she's in the streets." Gearshift grumbled as she sat in a steel chair, her right cheek swollen with a black eye. She had some bandages around her forehead and along her arm, exposed as her top was torn, her right sleeve gone, with dried dust, spots of blood, and motor oil leaving her clothing a mess.

She wouldn't have liked to be here, and if she could, she would have walked out, but her ankles were bolted to the chair and her arms to the bar fixed to the steel table before her. She would give the cops credit; the interrogation room was just as clinical and boring as TV shows made it out to be. They even got the piercing, headache-inducing, bright white fluorescent lights overhead.

With a shift and creak, the door opened up, allowing her interrogator to enter, to which she met with an amused, tired smile. Shit, she should have really gotten some sleep last night instead of binging Korean dramas again.

“Ikeda Hotaru, villain alias: Gearshift. Age: 39." The investigator started, sliding a thin folder across the table housing her basic info: name, date of birth, parents, schooling, and occupational history. They even had a basic description that included her eye and hair colour and weight.

Rude, ass-hats just estimated, didn't they?

Ignorant of whatever thoughts she was having, the cop continued. "Arrested by the pro heroine Mirko when she busted up a suspected and now confirmed illegal support-term production facility located under your auto-shop. You were also arrested under suspicion of illegal manufacture, possession, and sale of support equipment. Unlawful housing of materials. And multiple counts of tax evasion, fraud, and money laundering."

She nodded through his list of her charges, wondering if she couldn’t ask for a smoke. "According to Mirko, you and your associates resisted arrest and damaged your little business, accruing the injuries which have already been cataloged."

She scoffed, eyeing him like he was locked in an interrogation room. "When someone busts your door, you don't offer them a beer."

The cop narrowed his gaze at her, not pleased with her attitude. “Should we add wilfully attacking a hero-hero to your charges?”

"Do what you want? It'll look cooler if I can say I didn't lie down and let Mirko stomp on me like some perverted bitch." Gearshift, or Ikeda, snorted as he would insist on calling her. Mirko was hot, and she wouldn't deny that those things were the things of plenty of dreams, but she wasn't the sort who got off on getting dommed.

But one of her mechanics, Jun…well, she was open to the whole dommy-mommy thing and probably enjoyed getting kicked through a wall, if only because Mirko did the kicking.

Again, the cop ignored her comments, though he coughed into his hand to retain some semblance of control. “I would take this more seriously if I were in your shoes-”

"But you aren't in my shoes, and I am between you and me," she interrupted again as she looked towards the one-way mirror, knowing that they had an audience. Stuff like this always had an audience.

Turning back to him, she looked the man over. He was in a clean uniform, pressed, and had a couple of medals, but his face seemed so…bland. She was sure he had seen his face used on every 'join the police' promo in the last five years. He seemed so forgettable. “You wouldn’t rock my look, like at all.”

That seemed to get to him as he glared at HR, struggling to keep his cool with her. He recalls his training, as not all villains and criminals could treat interrogations with the proper respect. “Just the support item charges are steep. You’re looking at 7 years, minimum. You'll be lucky with everyone else if you get out after 20 years in prison.”

"Wow, from 7 for making shit my clients can use, to 20 minimum for the money stuff. Didn't know that the taxman was that serious about dotting your Is and crossing Ts.” She rolled her eyes.

“Well, I would bet a woman like you would like to get out before you’re old and grey.” The officer tried to match her banter, but she was an old hat.

She laughed at his attempt. “Hey, I could be 60 and still get more action than you, Mr. White Bread.”

"Can you shut up?! " the cop yelled, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up. Then he paused momentarily and meekly retook his seat, coughing into his hand again, now with red cheeks. “Pardon.”

Ikeda chuckled at his outburst, as she liked people with a little fire to them, something hot and heavy in their belly. "Oh, please, keep going. I prefer when people are honest."

"We know that you were using designs stolen from I-island. And we can confirm that at least 9 other support items seized by police across Chūbu link back to you and your workshop, some used in some serious crimes. That'll bump your sentence to 15 years just on the support items." He added, as she could recall, she's been really busy these last few weeks. Business had been booming.

“Are you going anywhere with this, or do you like hearing yourself talk?” She asked, as it didn't matter if they tacked on some more years.

This time, the officer did a better job getting through her abrasive personality as he laid out a tablet set to the note app where she could write. "We want information. Suppose you can provide us with credible means to trace where you got the equipment, who else got it, and other links to underworld dealers and villains. In that case, the public prosecutor’s office is willing to strike a deal.”

“Oh?” She seemed interested in the deal.

"If you help us, then all you need to do is plead guilty to a few charges of tax evasion and a single count of possession of an illegal support item. You'll serve just five years in a minimum-security prison.” He explained, leaning forward to try to convey that this was important for both of them. “Let us help you so we can put an end to this.”

“Protect me? Protect…me?” Ikeba couldn't help but laugh in his face, as if she had heard the funniest thing that month, as she slammed her hand on the table repeatedly, trying to regain control. "Oh, you guys must have some of that good stuff."

“Pardon?” The officer asked, looking at her, and then towards the one-way mirror where the others, including his superior, were watching this.

Once she finally got herself under control, she wiped the tear from her eye and elaborated. "You gotta be high as kites if you think you can protect me from anything. You seriously think the underworld wouldn't come after me for becoming a rat?" She asked, finding the entire concept that one could get as deep as she was, and just…walk away, laughable.

Without worry, she leaned back in her seat and shook her head. “Nah, it doesn't work like that. Once you're in, you're in for life. Even those who leave the trenches don't discuss what they saw or heard.” Plenty of villains, criminals, bastards, and bitches got out of the game. Maybe they wanted something else, maybe shit got too close to home, maybe the law was catching up.

It didn't matter the reason, as those who controlled the underworld, those who could claim themselves powerful within it, and those like her who just lived in it had no issue with people leaving the game.

But you never stopped playing by its rules, even when you put down the dice. Even the old dogs who lived in old retirement homes and hospice care knew better than to rat out others, even those long dead.

The severity of her words, delivered with the same tone one would use for the weather, was…disconcerting to the young officer, who didn't wish to see her harmed, especially if that came because she aided them. "If your life were put in danger for aiding us, we can organize for you to receive a new identity; no one will find you."

"You mean like no one thought villains could break into U.A? That I-island was the most secure place on the planet? Or that All Might would protect our little sham peace forever and ever?" She countered, each question like a slap in the officer’s face, though she hardly seemed amused or angry with the question.

Like before, it was just her stating a simple fact, and in this case, it was her belief that the police couldn't protect her, not if the underworld got word that she was the rat. "Wake up, buddy. Say I did this; it doesn't matter if you put me into that witness protection or whatever you have."

"I might be safe for a week, maybe a month, maybe a few months-but that'll only be because they'll watch me, and before you know it, my corpse would be found in some ditch with the words rat carved into my forehead." She tapped her forehead as she finished.

"Are you so afraid of your so-called associates that you wouldn't want to see them in chains, too?" The officer asked, trying a different tactic as surely she had enemies, people she didn’t like. He could certainly think of people not liking her, maybe that could be-

"Afraid? Little man, I never said I was afraid; that's all just a statement of fact." She waved his question off, shutting down that avenue he planned to take. "Nah, I'm not saying shit because I'm not some spineless snitch pig who squeals just cause I got picked up. My girls wouldn't have ever worked for me if I were that sort of bitch." She laughed as she recalled her rowdy bunch of assholes, morons, and gear whores.

Shit, she hoped none of them were in trouble. If it helped, she'd happily take as much heat as possible. Talent like theirs could easily find a way with other groups.

Back to the topic, she shook her head, as sure about this as she was about her favorite drink. "Nope, I'm a bitch who sticks to your guns and knows what she is getting into. Besides, I like how my life went. I got to make a serious bank by doing what I loved without anyone being able to tell me no."

The officer sighed, as this was getting nowhere. The same was true of her…girls. They all either clammed up or demanded an attorney. "So you'll say nothing and take your cases in court?"

"I'll say 2 things, if it'll get you off my back." The officer's hopes rose, just a little, as she leaned forward, but she made sure his gaze went from her face to her chest. He almost looked away from it as she undid some buttons to expose more, as he wasn't that sort of man-

He didn’t look at her breast, but at the tattoo which she had across her left breast, visible even with her bra on. It was a familiar one, as it had been showing up in growing numbers across Japan.

What they had coined the mark of the Thunder.

With a wide smile and an almost fanatical devotion in her eyes, she uttered the saying which seemed to have grown into the rally cry of the criminal world. “When the lightning strikes, the beasts will run wild, and the flames will turn all ash.”

“And the second?” He gulped, as he had never seen someone so sure about…anything, not since All Might. Her piece said, she buttoned right back up, and was back to her calm, bitchy self as she flipped the bird at the cop, and to those she knew were watching.

“I want my lawyer.”

Line Break

The footage of the interrogation ended there. It had been the last one they had all watched from the incident, as they had also gone over the footage of the other 8 interrogations the police undertook involving Ikeda's workforce. Those who did wish to speak up, primarily working in the legitimate business, didn't know anything, as they had been purposely kept from the illegal side of things.

Nighteye, who was chosen to lead Task Force G, addressed the group. “This was from a raid which Mirko led 2 days ago. Since this interaction, she and the rest of her accomplices have said nothing, even when reminded of their prison time.”

“Is this strength of their loyalty born out of fear from the underground, or the Thunder in particular?” Best Jeanist, appearing at the meeting via video call, mused. The man was out of costume but still wearing a high collar and scarf, which hid his face.

"Seems more like devotion to me. She and the rest of them are clear Thunder fan girls. They won't say a word unless we convince them that helping us helps them." Hawks relaxed, though his wings remained alert.

Pixe-bob, unlike Jeanist, was present for the meeting. "Eraser, you've had more interactions with the underworld than anyone else here. Can you speak to their mindset?" she asked, with the rest turning to the underground hero.

Eraser crossed his arms, as they had already gone over how they suspected Pyre had attended U.A.'s culture festival but couldn't confirm it at the time. Hawks had found it funny that Nighteye had been forced to act like a doting boyfriend; others…not so much, but they hadn't called U.A. out for their choice in handling it.

So he was well aware of how much this needed to make sense. "The underworld is a contradiction. It has no fixed location, but it still has gathering points. No one ruler yet it has its kings and dukes. No written conventions and regulatory bodies, but rules and those who deal out its irrational justice."

"Dumb it down, man," Kido asked, to which Eraser sighed.

"What I mean to say is that even if we could protect her, she's one of those who believe in their codes, in honor among thieves. Because of people like her, the underworld survived as long as it did, as even informants that will sell info regularly don't have anything on the bigger fish or events." Eraser finished, as she had tagged the woman as the type who wouldn't break.

"I don't get it. If this was a dead-end, why did we watch all that?"Eletress asked, as yes, it was a problem and it was related to the Thunder, but only loosely, and if the woman refused to talk, it was even worth less.

“Mirko?” Nighteye didn't answer the question but turned its focus to the Rabbit hero.

"You know me, I don't limit myself to one city or area, I go where the villains are, but recently, these new support items have been popping up all over the damn place, and I've been trying to figure out where," Mirko explained, which made sense. Because of her apparent aversion to agencies, it wouldn't have been strange for her to move around like that. An effective means to mask her true intentions.

"This latest hit was our first success in tracking one down, but it's not the only one, as we know of at least 6 other suspected illegal support studies producing these models." She frowned. Although she had encountered plenty of high-quality stuff, she assumed they were all hard as it only seemed to grow as crime rose and more villains were willing to shell out cash for better gear.

“Some of us will focus on this side of the hunt, while others will focus on tracking down the Thunder.” Best Jeanist explained.

“Is that not our goal already?” Hound Dog asked, to which the Fiber hero shook his head.

“Our goal is to neutralize them, but we gain a boon from Ikeda's last client. He's a petty villain who flipped when. According to him, the Thunder have been active in the underworld.” Jeanist explained that this was important, being their first real lead, which wasn't born from their own efforts or luck, in the case of Nighteye.

The pro used his quirk on Pyre when he had been a villain and accompanied him throughout the festival. Still, he didn't get much more than a temporary safe-house and a middleman who didn't know much.

“Plotting another operation?” Kido asked. Given how much was happening and how hard the boss was working, he was eager to do his part.

“In the midst of one. They sent a call for villains to try out for their membership. It wasn’t open to most, as they seemed to have hand-picked their candidates, but with this clue, we could look through what avenues we had." Nighteye stated that, as it reminded him of Chisaki, only in that case was he more trying to expand their client list and resources.

“We pulled on enough threads and caused the entire seam to grow loose. We could confirm this was the case with them, and they've already completed the first trial, including at least 2 known elements. The Volcano Thieves and Shearwolf.”

At Jeanist's words, the files on the villain group and the solo villainess appeared on the screens. Each was handed folders containing what they knew about that. It wasn't a large list, but it did have some concerning names. None could hope to be as big a threat as any one member of the Thunder had proven to be, but if they joined then, they'd only enhance their capability for evil.

“Our goal is to locate either them or another party that will be involved in the next parts of their trials. Arrest and send them in as a double agent, which'll lead us straight to them." Nighteye explained that many of the villains they suspected of being part of this membership could be swayed, being more interested in themselves and logic.

“Shearwolf doesn't seem like the type who would join a violent gang, but the Thunder's influence has been growing, so it's not impossible that she, along with others, has been swayed," Eraser noted, as from her file, she didn't seem like the worst type of villain. Yet, she was spotted by their turncoat's friend at the first part of this exam, one which read like the opening of the provisional license exam but turned for villainy rather than heroics.

It was no doubt Toga. She had impersonated a Shiketsu student and attended in her case. It might have seemed like an insult, but looking around, he could see how the rest saw it, and many said it like he did.

The Thunder adopted their countermeasures to produce more effective means of fostering and acquiring the most effective villains.

"So we move in and smash 'em?" Mirko asked, as this seemed simple enough. There would be a maximum of 45 villains present, so they could easily handle most of the jobbers and focus on the key players.

Nighteye shook his head. “No, we need to ensure this will be as decisive a blow as possible. A single member of the Thunder isn’t ideal, but should that become our only option, we will move in.”

In his words, the screens changed again to show the posters that were wanted for Nine, Chimera, and Pyre. The first and last of which were different in that they were posters that were wanted internationally. "It's a priority to capture Nine, Chimera, or Pyre. The leader, the second power-house, and their face. Mummy and Slice aren't as important."

“I advise you all to get to it. I wish I could participate more, but my doctors have been insistent that I receive the bare minimum rest before they'll clear me for anything greater than these calls.” Best Jeanist added, as they need to worry about this and the upcoming Hero ranking ceremony.

Line Break

Now that the Culture Festival is done and dusted, I could do more with it, showing 'Shuri' spending time with Eri and Togata and possibly more jokes at Nighteye's expense, but we do have other things to focus on, don't we? Besides, I'm starting this a bit earlier than normal as I need to finish another assignment(the norms of being a student), unlike last week, when I stayed up crazy late to finish the chapter.

The Break also gave me time to think about the rest of the tests the Thunder would have for their winning contestants. The battle royale was fun, but it had a bit of a sour end due to outside factors, and the chapter ended up being short. But with a smaller cast, I can give them each more focus, which will be fun.