Creepy Cult Weirdos

The door that he had just closed bursted open, slamming against the wall to its side with a harsh BANG!

And from it, piled out the three men he had just attempted to 'fool'.

Well fine, if this is how it's gonna be.

Izuku assumed a fighting stance, left arm loose, right arm crossed, knees bent, one eye already closed.

Damn, how long's it been?

Petty quirkless crime was going down in Kamurocho and Musutafu, and there was never enough room for him to fit in a fight against a villain.

It was just too damn hard to find a satisfying brawl.

Izuku licked his lips.

But I'm thinkin' that changes now.

The only people in the corridor that he was in were the three men he'd encountered, but that was sure to change, and despite the situation, he couldn't wait for it.

Even still, he had to find that woman, the brawl could wait until then.

So to his utter dismay, he'd have to finish quickly.

No guns. One in the back's got a knife in his pocket.

He could feel his body heating up, in the corner of his eye, he saw blue flame flicker.

How long has it been?

He opened his eye, feeling his skin crawl, and already knew what he was going to do.

And with four words, he filled that corridor with dread.

"Let's have some fun."

[!]Scrapper Style Heat Move: Essence of Brutal Opening

Within seconds, he was in front of the foremost man, two fingers driving forward into his eyes before he could react.

He recoiled in pain, but before he could cry out, Izuku drove his open hand into the man's neck, clenching hard and quickly stopping the sound from whence it would originate.

A quick pull of the shirt and an even quicker kick to the ankle sent him sprawling.

One down.

In an instant, Izuku was onto the next man, arms spread wide and moving in quick to clap over his opponent's ears.

CLAP!

Discombobulated, the man was left wide open to a swift knee to the stomach, sending him to his knees, bile rising up from his throat and hitting the otherwise sanitized floor.

A quick stomp to the back of his head was enough to stop the stomach troubles.

Two.

The third man was more prepared than his compatriots, blocking his body from the front, though he wasn't prepared for a voice to whisper, "What do we have here?" as a knife was waved in his face.

He hardly had enough time to register the hand that covered his mouth before feeling two shooting pains in his torso: one upon entry of the knife, the other upon exit.

His scream was muffled, though he wasn't hurting for too long. The fist to his temple made sure of that.

"Just missed your lung, buddy. Won't kill ya, but don't breathe too hard. Won't be good for ya."

And that's three. And nobody's coming yet, let's get these guys outta sight.

One-by-one, he dragged the three unfortunate men back into the room.

When they were all settled in a nice cozy corner, he took the time to actually scan the room.

Desk with some papers, card table with some chairs, crates over there, door on that side of the room. Where's it lead to, I wonder?

He started his investigation at the desk. At a glance, he could tell that they were shipping documents, but he couldn't read a single word of them. They weren't written in Japanese and the only foreign language he could read to an extent was English.

Come to think of it, that word that guy said. 'Chimipza'. That wasn't Japanese, either. I think it sounded… Korean?

He shook his head.

Think about that later, let's move on.

There was nothing of note at the card table, just some scattered playing cards and some metal folding chairs. While the Full House/Four-of-a-kind showdown he had interrupted would've been riveting under different circumstances, he had some boxes to snoop through.

They were simple wooden shipping crates, the kind you'd see loaded into containers at the harbor.

I'm sure nobody'll mind if I take a little looksie…

He took the knife that he had acquired earlier and slid it into the space between the lid and the crate proper.

With one swift motion, the lid was up so he pushed it to the side and peered in.

The hell?

He reached into the box and pulled out a sheathed katana, one among many from what he could see.

This is a Sakura Storm. Shit, so's that one there. And there too. The hell's going on? Are the other crates like this?

He quickly began to apply the same procedure to the next crate, cursing as the knife broke while doing so.

Not one to cry over spilled milk, he threw the handle of the now useless tool to the side and peered into the now-opened crate, affirming his suspicions.

Shit, this definitely runs pretty deep. Way deeper than I coulda thought.

He looked at the men in black that he had piled in the corner.

Combat boots, fitted cargos, knives and vests. Seems almost like mercenary wear. Well, that's if Yakuza Sunset's at least half accurate with their depiction of pseudo-military criminal organizations. There's definitely some bad shit goin' on here.

Putting a pin in that thought, he turned back to the crates full of weapons and pulled out his phone.

I should take some pictures, hopefully the cops can use 'em when I get the hell outta here.

A few snapshots later, there was only one place left for him to check.

He walked over to the door he had taken note of earlier.

He jostled the handle a few times, feeling it go all the way up and all the way down with every movement of his hand.

Okay, so let's see what's behind door number two.

He pushed down the hand and inched the door open carefully, offhandedly observing its weight as 'pretty damn heavy' as he peered through the crack.

Shit, it's dark. And is that… crying?

Indeed, from the darkness behind the door, all the boy heard was soft sobbing.

If that doesn't warrant investigation, I don't know what does.

He pulled his phone back and turned on the flashlight.

The room wasn't too big, it was about the size of a school supply closet, it was cold though.

Geez, feels like this room's in the middle of its own private winter.

He saw something shift in the corner of his eye, he whipped his light right over and what he saw made him sick to his stomach.

Curled into a ball, shaking and trying to appear as small as possible, was a figure dressed in dirty white robes.

Shit, there's no way… right?

He switched to his gallery.

He'd taken a picture of the woman's face in the footage before he and Akiyama left Purgatory to identify her quickly if he needed to.

He approached slowly, trying not to make any sudden movements.

When he reached them, his heart sank.

The face matched perfectly, but up close and in person, she looked so much younger.

She couldn't have been any older than nineteen, and even then, that was iffy.

She had bruises on her face, they looked fresh.

She hadn't made a single sound since he had entered the room. Hadn't even looked at him.

This is messed up. Who would do this to somebody?

It hardly took any time for his mind to come up with an answer.

Monsters.

He wanted so badly to go right back out and kick the ass of everyone in the complex, but he couldn't exactly do that then. He had to get her out there.

"Hey, miss?"

She went stock still. There was a full beat of silence before a small voice, one he had to strain his ears to hear, spoke out.

"Zebal... narl hatchge mara… (Please.. don't hurt me…)"

Wait, that's… Korean? I see. In that case...

He cleared his throat and began

"Nanen nurl hatchge anhuelgoha.(I am not here to hurt you.)"

For the first time since he entered, the woman turned to look at him, she had a black eye.

"Nunen na yonerl gusahanda?(You speak my language?)"

A little bit, thanks to Mirei-baba.

He smiled. Nothing toothy, just a quick upturn of the lips. Enough to show that he wasn't trying to be threatening.

"Jalhazi. (Not well.)"

He noticed her eyes flicker from his eyes to his smile, it's a good thing that he had both his flashlight and screen on so that they could see each other, the light streaming from the doorway wasn't really enough.

She didn't say anything, so Izuku spoke again.

"Dangsin irmeun muotipnikka?(What is your name?)"

"...Cho-Hee."

Izuku smiled a little wider.

"Dangxineul mannanen guti johda, Cho-Hee. Na irmeun Izuku.(It is nice to be meeting you, Cho-Hee. My name is Izuku.)"

Another beat of silence, though after this one he heard something that made him feel a little better.

Cho-Hee was giggling.

Good, she's feeling a little better. Now to get on topic.

"Cho-Hee, nanen dangsin adleul chajassspnida.(Cho-Hee, I found your son.)"

The woman tensed up immediately. Izuku had a feeling she'd be on guard, but he was willing to push on anyway.

"Gnen chinguwa hamkke. Mulri yeogieser. (He is with a friend. Away from here.)"

"...Gnen agernhapnikka?(Is he safe?)"

Izuku nodded. Cho-Hee looked down again, before looking Izuku dead in the eyes.

There was a fire in her eyes that wasn't there mere moments before.

And when she spoke again, it was with iron in her voice.

"Gege narl derioga ra.(Take me to him.)"

And from Izuku's lips spilled a vow clad in steel.

"Nanen Gutida.(I will.)"

The two left the small room behind them.

Apparently Cho-Hee had escaped the first time via a secret exit into the sewers.

It was likely guarded after her previous escape, but Izuku wasn't worried.

He planned to fight someone by the time he left anyway.

"Na due mermuler ra. Ggerteun pocklioc adeul su issspnida.(Stay behind me. It might get violent.)"

Cho-Hee nodded, and as if on cue, the door to the room opened and in walked three more men in black, three men who immediately noticed the other three unconscious men in the corner and rushed over in an attempt to rouse them.

Huh, and who says you can't have your cake and eat it too?

Crack! Crack!

He popped his knuckles, drawing the trio's attention.

His skin was crawling again, the blue flame flickered to life once more.

He smiled again, it wasn't friendly this time.

He entered his stance and addressed the trio.

"Oi, assholes. I'm takin' this lady with me, and I'm not letting ya stop me. That said, I'm pretty pissed off right now, so if any of you wanna die, baro dange(step right up.)"

The trio didn't seem to understand him until his final words, but they still seemed to take what he said personally.

"Uriga nul jukilgoha!(We'll kill you!)"

Izuku's grin was vicious as he stood his ground and shouted, "That's the spirit!"

Assholes

Two of them came at Izuku straight away, one lagging slightly behind the other, while the third dashed toward the still open crates.

Okay, let's have some fun.

The first to reach him, tall and slim, aimed a roundhouse kick at his head.

Izuku ducked, spun, and countered, driving his heel into his assailant's stomach, sending the man flying.

The second man, bald, slim, but not quite as tall as the airborne man, barely managed to dodge as his comrade cut through the air before hitting the wall with a harsh SLAM!, leaving spiderweb cracks in the wall behind him.

The shorter attacker stopped dead in his tracks for a moment, staring back wide-eyed, as if to process what he'd just witnessed.

Izuku sneered at him and tsked, eyes firmly locked on the man's bald head.

"Jeot gateun nom.(You look like a penis.)"

That seemed to snap him out of it. Seeing as he was charging at Izuku within seconds.

"Jukeun su!(Die!)"

He lashed out at the greenette with a hammerfist which was swiftly avoided while Izuku circled around his enemy.

[!]Scrapper Style Heat Move: Essence of Breaking

The teen tapped his opponent on the shoulder, attempting to draw his attention.

He received a turn backfist for his efforts.

THWACK!

One which he caught with both hands. His smile held venom.

He stepped and turned, pulling his victim's arm over his shoulder as he did, and with one hard tug-

CRACK!

Izuku pushed the man away, listening quietly as he fell, cradling a broken arm and screaming profanities at him.

"Aghhhh! Sshi bang sae! Sshi saeg g-!"

THWACK!

A kick to his face was enough to stop that nonsense.

Izuku didn't have time to revel in his victory, though, as he was quickly forced to dodge to the side, lest he be bisected in a flurry of sakura petals, courtesy of the final man in the trio.

SHING!

He dodged another strike.

SHING!

And another. He had moved to the entrance at this point. He looked back at the doorway where Cho-Hee was and noticed that she wasn't there.

Did she head back into the room?

He dodged another slash and contained a wince as the blade barely missed his eye.

He saw the man readying another slash and was getting ready to dodge before-

CLANG!

"Unf!"

Thud! Clatter!

His assailant stopped dead and fell over as the blade he was holding clattered off harmlessly to the side.

And just where the man stood, there was Cho-Hee holding a metal folding chair with a head-sized dent on the seat.

She dropped the chair, walked over to Izuku, and asked, "Neo gwaenchanh ni?(Are you okay?)"

Izuku looked down at the unconscious assailant and nodded, offering the woman the kind smile and a quick 'thanks'.

He walked over to the abandoned blade, kicking its previous wielder's head on the way, and picked up, turning the blade and inspecting it.

I always wanted to use one of these, but the Tiger & Dragon never had one in stock. It can't hurt to take just one… right?

He looked back the additions to the unconscious people in the room.

Eh, fuck it.

And from that day, Izuku's room gained a permanent fixture in the form of a Sakura Storm.

"Then after that, we ran, I kicked some more ass, we ran some more, I kicked some more ass, we made it to the sewer entrance, I kicked some more ass there, and Chief met up with us outside after kicking some major . The chicken cult's… well that's really not even part of my story there. If this were a manga, that'd be a separate omake entirely for Chief."

"Huh, okay then. And Cho-Hee? How did she end up in that situation? Not even mentioning those men in black. I never heard about them at the station."

Izuku sighed, "Yeah, Cho-Hee. Well, apparently she immigrated here from Korea when she was about sixteen. She was looking for her family and wound up in Kamurocho where her cousin had apparently been a short while ago, I think she said his name was… Yeonsu Kim or somethin' like that."

"And these men in black found her and took advantage of that, right?"

"Right. Those guys, as I found out later, were part of the now mostly defunct Japanese cell of the Jingweon Mafia. Apparently they were pretty big in Kamurocho back in the 80s before the Tojo Clan… took care of them and they went under the grid. Came back about twelve years ago and woulda started a war if the Tojo Clan wouldn't've driven 'em out again."

"I never knew. How did you find this out?"

"A friend of Chief's told me. He was pretty heavily involved in what happened back then. Him and someone else I knew."

"I see. But if they were driven out again, what were they doing back?"

"Simple. They were a rogue cell. Apparently the old Jingweon were fanatics, they wanted to accomplish their mission and avenge their comrades no matter how long it took. Unfortunately for them, too much of the new generation had found lives outside of the cycle. Though they were picking up steam again because of that damned cult."

"Hm."

"Anyway, they found Cho-Hee a couple years ago, took her in, and offered her up to the fucker leading the cult. She was just relieved to find people who spoke the same language as her in this country. About a year and a half later, she ends up pregnant. Almost a year after that, there our paths cross."

"A shame what happened to that girl."

"Yeah. But we took her to a friend of Chief's in Community Safety, he got her somewhere safe. Matter'a fact, I got a letter from her earlier this month. My aunt had to read it to me, because my Korean's still shit, but from the sounds of it, she and Izuku-chan are doing pretty good."

"Izuku-chan?"

"Yeah, she hadn't named her son by the time I'd found him. Apparently, she thought 'Izuku' was a pretty nice name, even if it wasn't traditionally Korean."

"Well, at least that story had a happy ending."

"Hm, yeah, I guess you're right."

Substories 4

A Cult Classic-Complete

"Oh right, I almost forgot. You told me you had two more stories to tell me?"

"Right, and these two are a bit more light than this first one. Let's see, which one first?"

Hero Analysis and Notes for the Future:

Fighting Style(s): Scrapper(Inspired by Kazuma Kiryu and Goro Majima)- My go-to style for most fights. Well-rounded and easy to use. Most moves outside of the ones I learned from Jiji and Uncle Kaz were taken from Yakuza Sunset or thought up on the spot.

Heat usually burns blue when I use it.

Now, I know what you're gonna say: the way I concluded the substory was shit, but before you do, take a look at what I said for the end of Substories 1-3 and then take a look at what it says here.