This chapter is a little shorter, but I hope you enjoy it. Also, feels warning; Eri, enough said.

"So," Shigaraki stated with no decorum to the individual across from him. "You want lackeys, and you think we'd do anything for you why?" there was no fear in the ashen teen's voice, no rage or hate, there was only a confidence that nothing could go wrong in their hideout.

Chisaki despised that relaxed attitude.

"Because we have similar goals." the bird-masked yakuza responded, not giving any indication to his emotions. "This world is filled with the disease of heroes, and you'll have access to some of our resources. I can't imagine you can do much in a place like this." he gestured to the rest of the building. There was little in the way of equipment, nor was there much furniture. If this was what they had left after the attack in Kamino ward, then they needed the Eight Precepts of Death for many things, tech included.

"Oh, and what would you have that we couldn't get elsewhere?" the disintegrator asked blithely. Chisaki very much wanted to make them bow to their much larger numbers, but the oyabun knew better than to keep too many people in fear, otherwise, he'd have someone try and kill him; consolidating his power base was the reason he was even talking to these failures.

"How about a way to take away a hero's quirk?" the bird-masked criminal suggested, pulling out a small case and showing the contents. Inside were several needles about the size of a 9mm bullet. Though the product was incomplete, they would deal with a hero's quirk for at least a few minutes, more than long enough to kill the powerless disease. Shigaraki looked in the case.

"Well that is interesting, what's the origin? Chemical, biological, radioactive, what?" he asked with interest. Chisaki wasn't surprised that the child in front of him was now interested, but he was hoping for a bigger reaction.

"Genetic material." the oyabun admitted. To him, the methods weren't important, only the end result; telling these failures a part of where they came from wouldn't affect him in the long run.

"We're leaving everyone; we aren't getting involved." Chisaki had to take a moment to realize what the other leader had said. Shigaraki and his cronies were standing up and away from him without any fanfare.

"And why are you walking away?" the bird-masked man asked as he was trying to not act out in a rage; he came all this way and these failures decide to just walk away?

"Because you're playing with a powderkeg right now." Shigaraki told him. "Nomu are seen by the public as monsters, not weapons, so we get some leeway; your bullets can be seen as nothing but a weapon. If the government cracks down on you, there's little you can do to stop them."

"I'm not scared of heroes coming after me, I've got enough men to hurt them bad enough." Chisaki reasoned, only for the kid to fucking laugh.

"Did I say heroes?" the leader of the league said with a grin. "No, I'm talking about soldiers, black ops, hell, a daisy cutter! What about if they call your quirk-stealing bullets weapons of terrorism and ask for international help? You don't have the political, personal, or manpower to stop thousands of trained soldiers.

And this doesn't begin to talk about the other powers out there, or did you think quirks were all that was? News flash asshole, they aren't. Some people gained powers from accidents that changed them outside of genetics, others gained power through enlightenment or mystic will. Some are literally not human enough for those bullets to work! What happens then?"

There was a silence as everyone waited for an answer.

"Come on everyone, no traces." he said, and the league started cleaning up. Dabi set fire to the couch they were just on, Jin started pouring industrial cleaners on the floor, Toga was on the computer to destroy their digital trail, Kenji worked on throwing away loose articles into a bin and setting that on fire, and Kurogiri was staying out of the way to warp them.

"Yo Overhaul, ya might want 'ta get outta here; these cleaners are nasty." Jin called out, and the oyabun realized that they were using flammable cleaners. At least he could respect their thoroughness.

"Fine, I'll see myself out. If you happen to come to your senses, then you know where to find me." Chisaki said.

"Another mistake you've made." Shigaraki replied. "If we can find you, so can others. You may want to make some hidden shelters when things go south."

"Don't you mean if?"

"No, when. Heroes have an annoying history of fucking up the best plans just by being in the damn area, not to mention when they decide to involve themselves." Chisaki left after the exchange, leaving them to destroy all of the evidence from the meeting. If these failures were going to be paranoid and superstitious, then there was little they could offer him.

Stain was oiling his o katana after crippling another fake while Spinner, his new apprentice, was wrapping the wound in cloth; better to leave a living example than a false martyr.

"Boss, we gotta get moving. Cops are gonna get here any minute." the lizard man said, gripping the claymore over his shoulder. Both of them had learned their lesson from their defeats, got more practical weapons and took to maintaining them after targets. The results spoke for themselves as they didn't have nearly as many issues the previous weapons.

"Sure…" the hero killer said, sheathing his blade as the two started climbing up the alley wall and onto the rooftops. It was routine for the pair now, but Spinner still had trouble with some climbs with his heavier weapon and less experience.

"Damn, the cops got here fast didn't they?" the lizard man asked rhetorically, as the sirens were within earshot now. They would have to move fast to dodge the search perimeter before it was up.

"Just move it kid. The dead drop is closing off at sunset, and I don't want to have evidence in the freezer." the hero killer urged. The object in question was the right arm of Yoroi Musha. Archibald wanted it and gave the killers the tools to do it, and they took the chance to take one of the top fakes out of commision.

"What do you think he uses the parts for though? I mean, he's made flesh golems, but those were whole bodies." Spinner questioned as the bloodstained duo managed to clear the search area.

"No clue, but it's worrying; it's always taking parts and leaving them alive. If what you remember is true, then why did he switch from whole corpses to pieces? But he's giving us the tools to purge the fakes from if not the world, then at least the infected system." Stain admitted. Ever since he found what to look for, the number of people in the moonlit world were something else. At least he and spinner were learning ways to boost their physical abilities with runes, but now they knew that they weren't the only things out there, and it was more than a little intimidating. As the two killers managed to get to drop the false hero's limb off, they went back to the hideout to plan the next target or were directed to the next one by the broken mage.

In the darkness of what looked to be a padded safe, there was a scared girl that looked like a fairy, if not for her scars and matted hair that gave a helplessness to her. Her room had many soft things that were supposed to keep her calm, but the artificial fur felt more like thin barbs to her, scratching until she pulled away. She didn't cry at the surroundings, nor did she scream or shout in defiance.

Pointless

That single word had been forced on her so many times. Pointless to scream, Pointless to cry, Pointless to smile or laugh or… nothing would change the fact he saw her as nothing but material to harvest. She would be broken apart, parts would be taken, and then she would be put back together and thrown back into her padded safe; not room, it never felt like a room to her. She knew that nothing would change, but she still held onto something; it was small and tenuous, but it was holding her together even while it was tearing her up inside.

Hope

To some, that emotion was the only thing to hold onto, and it saved them. A soldier would use it to push forward and return to the family waiting at home for them. A man in poverty was able to use it to give a blessing to those who gave him small offerings to keep him in the realm of the living. A protestor would draw strength from it to see their better world take place.

To others, hope was a curse. A prostitute in Taiwan didn't hope because she didn't have any clue of what to hope for, other than not to contract something that would kill her. A slave didn't hope for freedom because he would only end up killed, and it was better to live a slave than die free. Spouses didn't hope because they knew if they showed more defiance, the person they were married to would notice and beat them further.

This girl, the broken, tiny girl, hoped because she didn't know what else to do. She hoped to be free from the pain and darkness, the sterile rooms and fake smiles. She hoped to see the sun again and not be caught this time. She hoped to feel warmth and love instead of clinical disinterest and scientific curiosity. She hoped that she would feel something other than the cold stone on her feet and the still, cold air

"Eri." she flinched at her name, that cruel title that told her that she was broken beyond reason, and the person who said it. "Come along; you're needed."

"Hai…" she said quietly, as she once again walked to the room she knew would break her again. She wished that there was a way out.

Later she would look back on that wish with emotions she didn't have back then.

That's a wrap, and damn! Anyways, thank you all for reading and enjoying my story thus far. Please leave a review; I've kept up with everyone and read all 165 of your replies and ideas. Next chapter is Nighteye! Till next time!