ShuraZero
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Chapter 113: Targets and Conspiracies
🕑 Added 2025-08-14 09:00:54 +0000 UTCA strategic calm reigned in the U.A. faculty meeting room. The cheers from the stadium didn't reach it, nor did the rumble of the exams. There was only the soft hum of the projector amidst the dense, heavy silence of four professionals weighing the future.
Shota Aizawa was the first to break it. His voice, monotonous as always, cut through the silence.
"The growth is anomalous."
Nezu, sitting in his principal's chair, didn't look away from the frozen images on the screen: Ochako Uraraka suspended in mid-air, surrounded by the wreckage of a battlefield; Momo Yaoyorozu, a sonic weapon in hand, her face a mixture of exhaustion and triumph.
"Explain, Aizawa."
"This isn't normal development," Aizawa continued, his tired eyes fixed on the projections. "The coordination demonstrated by Midoriya's, Uraraka's, and Yaoyorozu's teams exceeds any reasonable projection. It's not the result of a simple week of training. Uraraka's power curve isn't a curve; it's a vertical line. Yaoyorozu's creation ability under pressure... her tactical processing speed has doubled. Hagakure's ability to manipulate light offensively... these are skills that should have taken years to manifest, not weeks. This isn't growth. It's accelerated mutation. It's a red flag."
Nemuri Kayama, Midnight, sat with her legs crossed, her civilian attire contrasting with the gravity of the meeting. She placed her teacup on the table with a delicate click.
"A very impressive red flag, Shota. But you're right. Such exponential growth doesn't go unnoticed. And not just by us. It attracts the wrong kind of attention. The world of heroes is as much a business of image as it is of rescues. A team of rookies with that level of synergy isn't just news; it's an anomaly. Sponsors will go crazy, but so will villains. It makes them a prize."
Toshinori Yagi, in his skeletal form, shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"It was me who pushed them. The pressure of the festival... the constant threat of the League... Maybe I forced them to grow too quickly."
"No, Toshinori," Nezu intervened, the usual cheerfulness in his voice sounding almost out of place. "It wasn't you. It was synergy. And that's precisely what concerns us."
He got up from his chair and walked toward the screen, his small figure casting a surprisingly large shadow.
"What they demonstrated wasn't just individual skill. It was a potential that makes them an S-level asset for us... and an S-level target for our enemies."
He paused, and his rodent-like smile vanished, replaced by a glacial seriousness.
"That's why we're here. This isn't a post-exam analysis. It's a risk management meeting. We have to assume that the League of Villains, through their mole, already knows about them. They already know what they can do."
All Might straightened up, his voice a hoarse whisper.
"Then... the training camp..."
"The training camp can no longer be a simple summer exercise," Nezu concluded. "It must be treated as what it is: a high-risk operation in potentially hostile territory. We cannot afford another incident like the USJ. Not when the stakes are this high."
The decision settled in the air. Nezu turned, his black eyes fixed on Aizawa.
"We will increase security. I've hired the Wild, Wild Pussycats. They are specialists in that mountainous terrain. No one knows that forest better than they do. They will be our first line of defense. But yours, Aizawa, will be the most important."
Aizawa looked up from his papers, his expression impassive.
"What's the order?"
"Watch them," Nezu said, and there was no trace of cheerfulness in his voice. "Watch Midoriya's team. Wherever they go, your eyes must be on them. During every exercise, every break, every meal. They are no longer just your students. They are a high-priority asset. And you are responsible for ensuring that asset reaches its destination intact. Treat them as if they are the most precious target in the world, because to our enemies, they are."
Izuku walked down the silent hallway. The sound of his own footsteps was the only thing that broke the quiet. The bustle of the class had been left behind. The euphoria of victory had dissolved, leaving only the metallic taste of uncertainty.
"Young Midoriya."
All Might's voice, even in his skeletal form, boomed with authority. Izuku stopped and turned. His mentor wasn't smiling. His gaunt face was etched with a concern that went beyond that of a simple teacher.
"Come with me to my office, please. We need to talk."
All Might's office was a sanctuary. Izuku sat on the sofa, feeling small amidst the history of heroism.
"Congratulations on your victory, and your team's," All Might began, his tone more formal than usual. "What you did, what you all did, was beyond what we expected. You proved that unity is a force in itself."
"Thank you, All Might. But I couldn't have done anything without them."
"I know. And that's what makes you a great leader," All Might said, the warmth fading from his voice. "Young Midoriya, I can no longer treat you as just a student. After what you demonstrated in the exams, you are a leader. And a leader must know the weight of his decisions, and the consequences they bring."
He explained the faculty's conclusion. The certainty that they had a spy in U.A., the conviction that the League of Villains had already analyzed the exam results and had identified their priority targets.
"The League of Villains' priority will no longer be an indiscriminate attack like at the USJ. It will be surgical. They have data. They know who the strongest are. They will single out Young Uraraka for her destructive power, which now rivals that of pros. Young Yaoyorozu for her strategic genius, capable of arming an entire class in seconds. And of course, Young Bakugo and Young Todoroki for their overwhelming brute force. Your team, Izuku, is in the eye of the storm."
Izuku felt the weight of those words. This wasn't a theory. It was a certainty.
"Why me?" Izuku asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Why not tell the whole class? Or them?"
"Because telling everyone would create panic. And panic is a villain's best ally. And I'm not telling them because I'm trusting you to protect them. You're the only one who can do it. The only one who understands them. The training camp," All Might continued, "is the most logical stage for the League to try something. They'll be isolated, far from urban centers, in an environment that favors ambushes. Kidnapping, elimination... we don't know. But we have to be prepared for the worst."
All Might leaned forward, and the intensity in his sunken eyes was that of a general entrusting his most important mission to his best soldier.
"Your job at the camp isn't just to train, Young Midoriya. It's to protect them. You are the only one who understands your team's synergy on a fundamental level. You're the only one who can anticipate their moves, strengthen their weaknesses, and enhance their strengths in real time. Keep your eyes open. Watch them constantly. The villains already have them in their sights."
The burden of responsibility was immense, almost unbearable. But Izuku didn't waver. The boy who feared being useless was gone, replaced by a young man who understood the weight of trust.
"This is a burden I'm giving you not as your teacher," All Might concluded, "but as the Number One Hero to the leader of the most promising... and most threatened team at U.A."
Izuku nodded slowly, the gravity of the situation settling on his shoulders. This wasn't a game anymore. It wasn't an exam. It was a mission on which the lives of his friends depended.
"Understood," he said, and in his voice, there was no fear, only an acceptance of his duty. "I won't fail you."
The League of Villains' bar smelled of stale alcohol and dust. There were no screens on, no music, no customers. Only the tense silence and the irritating sound of Tomura Shigaraki's nails scratching the skin on his neck. Kurogiri, behind the bar, cleaned a glass with imperturbable calm, his misty body barely moving in the gloom.
A burner phone, left on the bar, vibrated once.
Kurogiri picked it up, glanced at it for a moment, and passed it to Shigaraki without a word. It was an encrypted text message. No images, no videos. Just a cold, concise summary of data.
Shigaraki read it aloud, his voice a hiss of frustration and envy.
"'Class 1-A Practical Exam Report. High-value targets confirmed. Todoroki: massive elemental power, but with internal conflict limiting use of his fire side. Bakugo: pure destructive power, volatile and easily provoked personality. Uraraka: large-scale gravitational control, A-level destructive potential, previously underestimated. Yaoyorozu: high-speed creation, tactical genius, capable of arming a team in seconds.'"
He crumpled the phone in his hand until the plastic cracked and turned to gray dust that slipped through his fingers.
"Damn brats!" he shrieked, his voice rising an octave. "They're leveling up like it's some stupid video game! They're getting stronger right under our noses! Do you think this is funny, Kurogiri? They're using cheats! It's not fair!"
"Justice is a subjective concept, Tomura Shigaraki. Power is an objective fact. And they are accumulating it."
"I know!" Shigaraki snapped. "And it makes me sick. The gravity girl... her destructive power is almost as pretty as mine. I want to see her break things for real."
He stood up, his hunched body a manifestation of his childish rage. His target was no longer just Izuku, whom the spy's report vaguely referred to as "the lynchpin" or "the strategist." His targets now were the most powerful pieces on the board. The main players.
"Kurogiri. The camp. It's our stage."
He turned to his guardian, and the smile that formed on his chapped face was a mixture of childish and lethal malice.
"The spy will give us the location. We'll go there. We'll create the chaos that heroes love so much. And while they're busy putting out fires... we'll separate the strongest from the herd. I want the gravity girl. Her power to break things is wasted on a hero. I want the creation girl. A walking weapons factory is too valuable an asset to leave on the good guys' side."
He paused, savoring his own wickedness.
"And... I want the explosion brat. Such destructive power, so much rage... I think he might understand our point of view. There's so much hate in him... It's beautiful. He's almost one of us already."
Shigaraki's smile widened, twisted and terrible.
"We'll break him. Or we'll make him one of us."
