Ocelot watched as the students gathered up, looking over their costumes carefully. It was then he realized that yes, he had given himself too much time to prepare. The costumes could be separated into a pyramid of practical and flashy, with the practical ones standing at the top. To make it easy, he started with the practical designs. These had some form of protection on their person.
Be it some small ballistic plates, some reinforced fibers, or a helmet and knee pads. They also had an abundance of pouches for possible equipment. That was about it for practicality though, as the rest of their costumes consisted of baseball gear, a John Wick wannabe, and a walking EOD suit. That last one was probably all right. It had bad mobility, but at least it was tough.
Then came the flashy costumes. They had leather jackets, large wool coats, eccentric capes, and so many swimsuits. Ocelot thought the girls had it bad but then he spotted one teen with only a speedo for a costume! He could only hope the kid's quirk had something to do with bulletproof ness, although the fins on his arms said otherwise. The sadist in him wanted to laugh, but the sympathetic side, as small as it was, decided to keep him quiet.
Quickly getting the show on the road, Ocelot spun one revolver in his hand as he addressed the crowd.
"Now then, today we're going to be having a unique training exercise. All of you are going to work together to eliminate me and secure this briefcase." Ocelot stated as he held up the case in his other hand.
"You have… oh shit I wasted a lot of time," Ocelot quietly muttered as he went over the school's schedule. See, heroics went from around 3:20 to about 4:10, or 15:20 to 16:10. And he gave them half an hour. So, they had twenty minutes of class, or fifteen if he started the exercise now.
"You have fifteen minutes to complete this, or you fail." Ocelot finished as he very quickly began walking into the designated building, ignoring all questions the students threw his way. In all honesty, he probably could have handled that better. But hey, a soldier has to adapt to unforeseen events, and that is what he was going to teach. Reaching the main room, he took a leisurely seat in a big office chair and kicked up his feet on a desk. On the desk was a set of monitors hooked up to hidden security cameras.
Now in position, Ocelot turned on the building's intercom and yelled out, "Begin!"
In seconds a good portion of the students charged into the building, just as he wanted them to. Now, littered all across the building's floors, was an assortment of objects that made the building seem realistic. It was an office building, so it had desks and filing cabinets and whatnot. Everyday things no one would spare a second glance. A pair of students were standing next to one such desk.
Carefully, Ocelot pulled a burner phone out of his pocket and dialed a number. Seconds later the desk the students were standing next to exploded. For the exercise, it was a fake made of Styrofoam, and given an anesthetic gas to knock the students out. It didn't have the explosive force to kill them, but they didn't know that. A slight chuckle escaping him, Ocelot grabbed the mic to the intercom. It was incredible what one could do with some detergents, pipes, and wires.
"Oh, I may have forgotten to tell you this, but I hid some surprises around the building. Have fun."
He snickered as the students devolved into a panic. The more experienced of the first years, kept moving forward, only now being more wary of their surroundings. It was here one group of students caught Ocelot's eye. It was the one he'd seen from the beginning of class, accompanied by the boy with red, green, and blue hair. Curious, he listened to the audio from one of the cameras.
"Look, he's rigged bombs all over the place! We can't just charge forward!" the tall black-haired boy exclaimed.
"As much as I hate to agree, he's right." the slimy boy stated.
"How? All we have to do is run up and grab the case! Easy peasy. Right, Nakamura?" the kid with sawblades asked.
Nakamura? Where had he heard that name before, Ocelot thought calmly, before triggering another IED. It took out four students bringing the total left to fourteen. Looking back, he found the students staring at the kid with red, green, and blue hair. Nervously Nakamura looked anywhere but at his classmates.
"No, we'll lose if we take him head-on," Nakamura muttered quietly.
"Then what do you suggest? We have to get the briefcase somehow."
"I don't think there is a way to win," Nakamura replied as a smirk came to Ocelot's face. It seemed the kid had seen it. This exercise was designed to be impossible to win. It was a purposely chosen maze of a building, with IEDs hidden all over. With the security cameras, Ocelot would know when to detonate and if he needed to escape or if he needed to fight. Everything except for the time limit had been by design.
"That's bullshit, the teachers wouldn't just fail us for no reason." the sawblade boy countered, only for Nakamura to shake his head.
"Well… he isn't a teacher." the black-haired boy commented.
"And he did say he'd put us through hell." the slimy boy reminded them.
"No, there has to be a way to win!" the boy with sawblades shouted.
There wasn't but who was he to tell them that, as Ocelot triggered yet another IED. He got five students that time, although they were being more careful of their surroundings. Several of them tiptoeing around the room thinking something was triggering the explosives on the floor. It was honestly kind of funny for him to watch.
"What about this, I can cut through the walls and make us a path forward. That way we can avoid the rooms with bombs!"
"But we don't know what rooms they're in dumbass." the slimy boy reminded him.
"Your blades won't cut through the walls either," Ocelot stated over the intercom, deciding to create a little more panic.
"He can hear us!?"
"Always could! Now you've got five minutes until the exercise ends, and wait a minute," Ocelot began before triggering an IED. This one knocked out five students as well, leaving only the group of four.
"And you're the last ones left, good luck."
He watched as the students turned pale, or even paler in Nakamura's case. At that point, the students stopped talking loud enough for him to hear. Which they probably should have done in the beginning but oh well. Whatever they were discussing now, Ocelot didn't know, however, they seemed slightly more motivated.
In an interesting turn of events, the slimy boy turned into a puddle of green goo. A bit odd but his appearance did give Ocelot a small clue of his quirk. The puddle inched forward as the students nearby began to follow it. Once the puddle was right next to a bomb, Ocelot triggered it. To his surprise, the puddle of slime seemed unaffected by the anesthetic. Then he remembered, it was a puddle of goo, what lungs were there to breathe in?
Quickly the puddle of goo moved forward, at an alarmingly fast pace. So much so that Ocelot had a hard time activating the IEDs fast enough. The students continued to follow behind, with Ocelot realizing their plan. The slime boy would be a human shield, while the others moved in for support. Then his cameras started going out individually, with Ocelot seeing Nakamura shine something into them and the sawblade boy cut them apart. Confused as to how they found the cameras, he spotted the black-haired boy holding up his hand, before pointing directly at the camera.
Seeing what was happening, Ocelot elected to vacate the main room. Quietly he left out a different exit and listened to the students' reactions.
"He's gone!?"
"Damn it, find him!"
"There's no time!"
Then the buzzer rang, signaling the end of the exercise. Silently, Ocelot went over his plan as he walked away. There had been some small oversights in his "impossible to win" exercise. Number one of which was slimy. Then again, the staff never told him what the students' quirks were. Next to him, the medical robots began moving into the building and soon escorted the knocked-out students to the nurse's office.
Why do they only have one wheel, was Ocelot's only thought on the matter as the only four surviving students left the building. They looked up at him with surprise and annoyance, while Nakamura looked more afraid than anything.
"You made it so we would lose." the slimy boy accused. Ocelot simply smirked back, drawing one of his revolvers from his holster. Spinning it around for a second, he tossed it up and began flipping it in the air.
"Yes, I did. Or at least I tried to," he replied calmly, "Didn't fully expect someone to turn into a puddle, not bad by the way."
"What was this even supposed to teach? How to get stuck in a trap?" the boy with sawblades asked.
"No, you see in this line of work there are unwinnable situations. Times where you're outnumbered, outgunned, have no basic intel, and a vague guess as to what is going on." Ocelot stated, catching his gun with his pinky, "But against it all, you have to find a way to win. I've known someone who has done that repeatedly, and it's someone you'll have to be like in this world if you want to be a hero. So, this lesson was about adaptability and willpower. The ability to adapt to the unknown, and the will to keep moving in the face of defeat."
"Oh…" the boy muttered quietly.
"Did it have to be bombs though? My ears are still ringing." the tall black-haired boy asked.
"Believe me, I could have done much worse," Ocelot told them vaguely, leaving it at that as he walked away.
"Still, be proud of yourselves. You four managed to make it to the end and had me fleeing my office. Hell," Ocelot began as he turned to face them once more. He held up his hands calmly, making a finger gun gesture at them.
"I'd say you're pretty good,"
It had taken three days for Snake and the company of paratroopers to reach Kazakhstan. It was a long cold affair until they reached the flat nothingness of the region's steppe in the early morning. The land seemed to go on endlessly, with only the occasional reed of tall grass obstructing the view. And Snake hated it.
"We're too exposed out here," he muttered, his one eye continually checking the surroundings. It would be impossible to miss anything with how out in the open everything was. But that meant the same could be said for them. Yet extraction was a few hours away.
"If the Showmaster's men were following us, we would have seen them by now," Nagant told him, as the sniper gazed through the scope on her arm. Her arm meanwhile rested on the hood of an L-ATV.
"Not to mention Miller said they were staying put at their base."
"That was before we dropped a couple thousand-pound bombs on them," Snake countered, "and if not the Showmaster's guys, then it could be the Russians."
"We're not in Russia anymore, you think they'd risk an international incident by chasing us down?"
"You think they care? If the HPSC learned that it was us they were going after, then the hypothetical incident would never reach the news."
"Wouldn't it?" Nagant started, "After all we have a hundred kids with us as eyewitnesses, and most likely a lot of trigger-happy parents waiting to see them safe. With one of said parents being the President of Poland."
"Heh can't fault your logic there. Still, keep a lookout just in case." Snake told her, before turning away. At the moment they had set up a small base camp, which in actuality, consisted of the L-ATVs forming a circle. Inside the circle most of the soldiers were taking a break, their feet still sore from the long march. A few, however, still kept watch of the surrounding area, most taking the gunner position in the L-ATVs. The kids, meanwhile, clumped together in small groups.
Some played, although the games were more quiet restrained affairs, which was understandable after the "game" they had gone through. The rest remained quiet and noticeably distant. They stared out at nothing, only coming back when someone shook them out of their thoughts. It was sad for him to see. He couldn't do anything for them, not now at least. Not out here. So, he walked forward to the center of the camp, the smell of something being cooked reaching him.
There a couple of soldiers sat around heating a few MREs. The food didn't look all that appealing, the best option being some dried fruit and cold sausages, but none of the soldiers cared. Snake couldn't blame them, as he realized how hungry he was. Three days of nonstop marching and a full day in the Showmaster's base took a toll. Reaching the center of the camp he quietly sat down, before fishing through his bag for an MRE. At the same time, he found the soldiers looking over at him.
"Boss," a few of them greeted. Others simply nodded in recognition or gave him a quick salute.
"Gentlemen," Snake greeted in turn, managing to grab his MRE. Opening it carefully, he put a small pot over a little fire and began boiling water.
"Sir, this may seem out of pocket," a soldier to Snake's right began, "But are you actually from the 1970s?"
"Yep," Snake replied now noticing a look of curiosity from the men.
"Could have sworn the guys were pulling my leg." One soldier muttered.
"Hey, I still don't believe it, no offense Boss." Another commented.
"What was it like back then?" a third asked. Snake paused to think about it for a moment. It had only been four years since Mother Base was transported here, yet it seemed so long ago.
"Hmm, it was not as advanced obviously, but nothing was all that different. Heh, I still remember when we got our hands on a prototype Walkman."
"Now that you mention it, our Idroids seem to resemble an old Walkman." one soldier noted, as he examined the device in his hand.
"Well, it was based on it," Snake stated, gaining a confused look from the soldier.
"It was based on a music player?" he inquired, confused as to why that was what the MSF chose. To that Snake remembered why he had the Idroid designed.
"... I wanted to listen to music on the field," Snake replied, answering the soldier's question. The other soldiers had a brief hint of realization at that moment before
"Fair,"
"Makes sense,"
"I can see it,"
"So that's what this button's for!"
"Wait, a minute," one soldier commented as he began to think on something, "this thing has built-in holographic maps, a database rivaling a phone, can play music, make calls, and can manage our resources like Excel, and it was designed in the 1970s."
"Same could be said about ZEKE," Snake told them, as he found his water ready. His comment left the soldiers around him stunned though. Snake didn't pay attention to it though, instead pouring the water into his MRE and allowing it to cook.
"You know, I think the not-as-advanced part may be a lie Boss,"
"Maybe," was Snake's only reply. The conversation went on for a while longer, with the other soldiers asking their questions until the topic eventually changed. It changed a few times actually, with it going from soldiers asking him for advice, to if he had tried out Mario Kart. He hadn't of course but that wasn't important. Yet something began to stir around them, an odd air of worry. Soldiers began to scramble about as Snake looked around the area. The soldiers he was with soon joined their comrades while he went to Nagant.
When he arrived, he found the sniper looking at something in the distance. A series of black dots flew towards them, but Snake couldn't get a good view of what they were. He assumed helicopters, but who's was the question.
"Any ID?" Snake asked, to which Nagant shook her head.
"I tried calling Miller for confirmation, but he's not answering," Nagant told him. Snake mentally swore at her response. Then smoke flared in the distance, and an L-ATV exploded. The kids screamed as soldiers ducked down behind cover. Those manning the L-ATV's guns tried firing at the helicopters but were cut down by a 30mm autocannon.
Ducking down Snake could hear the painful yells of his men, as two helicopters flew over them. He got a good look at them then, finding the aircraft to be KA-50s. Swearing momentarily, he found the attack helicopters remaining nearby. Soldiers manning some M2s fired up at the aircraft, managing to damage them. But the helicopters ignored the damage, continuing to cut down exposed paratroopers. Then one soldier called out in a panic.
"Enemy contacts, a thousand meters!"
Snake turned back around, looking at the outskirts of the circle. There several MI-26s landed, with dozens of occupants charging out. Taking out his binoculars, Snake attempted to get a closer look at the enemy. They were better equipped than the Showmaster's men, displaying they weren't his. The enemy had AK-12s, RPK-16s, T-5000s, and even 2B14 mortars.
He also saw a commonality between the enemy, they all had something to do with wolves. Bits of their uniforms had fur pelts or a hood made of a wolf's head. Some had a kind of dog mutation quirk or a mutation with dog attributes. And here Snake came to a realization, that these were heroes. They lacked any of the bombastic flair the other heroes had, but they still had the same modus operandi.
An iconic brand appeal that could make money, with that appeal being an almost Rambo aesthetic. There had to be somewhere close to three hundred of them if the helicopters were anything to go by. And they had them surrounded. Snake swore at this as he ducked back behind L-ATV. He narrowly dodged a pair of heroes firing at him but heard the rounds dinging off the vehicle's door.
Nagant quickly tossed him an M4, which he carefully caught. Checking the chamber, Snake loaded and turned to fire. Approaching the outer perimeter was one lone group of heroes. Snake wasted no time and fired a three-round burst at the first one. It struck dead on, cracking through the hero's skull, and dying his wolfskin hood red. His compatriots dropped to the ground in response, before firing back.
They missed a few shots but forced Snake to duck when they cracked the L-ATV's windshield. Quickly Snake moved to the L-ATV's rear and found the heroes still focused on his old location. Taking advantage, he fired and killed a second hero instantly. The third hero surprisingly enough threw down his rifle. It left Snake confused for a moment before he took advantage of the hero's mistake. He fired again, right as the hero's uniform began to tear apart- wait what?
Snake looked on shocked as the hero's appearance shifted over to that of a werewolf. The hero seemed to lose any sense of sanity in seconds as it charged at Snake like a rabid dog. It was fast too, reaching him in mere seconds. Snake barely had any time to react as he brought up his M4 as a shield. The hero clawed through the rifle like it was paper, before tackling Snake. It tried to tear him apart, with Snake narrowly avoiding its claws while he held his ruined rifle up against the hero's throat.
That held the hero back, as its jaws tried to rip off Snake's face. Snake struggled all the while, attempting to kick the hero off of him. But it was strong, barely reacting to anything that hit it. The hero was only taken down when a soldier with a strength quirk grabbed it and suplexed it into the ground. The hero went through a solid two feet of earth effectively being buried from the torso up. The soldier then helped Snake up, while Nagant shot the buried hero in the heart.
That seemed to have killed it but did nothing against the onslaught of heroes surrounding them. Especially as the KA-50s blew up another L-ATV. Slowly but surely, they were losing their transportation. Snake saw one soldier manning an M2 continue to focus fire on one KA-50. The rounds did little but dent the helicopter's armor, yet he kept firing regardless. If he struck the same area often enough the armor would weaken and could eventually break.
But that was cut short as the KA-50 fired a rocket at the soldier. He was killed instantly. Snake could only grumble as it happened, quickly turning over to Nagant.
"How strong is your quirk?" he asked, ducking down as bullets flew overhead.
"Enough to punch through the helos if that's what you're asking." Nagant replied, "But it's too risky. My whole quirk becomes this large fleshy target for every hero nearby."
"Damn it!" Snake yelled before looking out over the area. He activated his codec quickly, opening to every nearby friendly channel.
"Does anyone have a quirk that can deal with the enemy helos!?"
It was somewhat stupid to ask. If they had one, they would have used it by now. But he had to be sure. He was met with a chorus of nos. Swearing, Snake attempted to think up some kind of plan. Some of the L-ATVs had Mk 47 grenade launchers instead of M2s, but Snake ruled those out. Any stray grenade could kill a friendly or a kid. It seemed Nagant would have to risk it.
"You shoot them down, we'll provide cover fire," Snake ordered, before getting his hands on another M4. He hoped he wouldn't lose this one so quickly. Aiming back at the outskirts of the perimeter, Snake found the heroes had gotten much closer than before. But were still exposed out on the open step. He fired, while Nagant got into position. With her rifle quirk at the ready, she carefully aimed at the first KA-50. One wrong shot and it was going to crash into friendly forces.
Overcharging her quirk, she fired the first round. It tore off the tail of a KA-50, with the helicopter quickly spinning out of control. This drew the attention of every enemy combatant though and forced her to run as the second KA-50 fired at her. Its rounds nearly tore through her, were it not for a soldier manning an M2 managing to crack the helicopter cockpit. It stole the enemy pilot's attention for a moment, as it focused on the machine gunner.
With the opportunity, Nagant ripped out a tuft of hair and readied her quirk. Only for a mortar to land next to her. She didn't realize it, but the blast had flung her backward. Shrapnel had torn into her, leaving vicious wounds across her body. It seemed over. The KA-50 killed the machine gunner quickly and moved to kill her. It floated above her, offering a silent taunt as she waited for the inevitable. She expected it to arrive, but the KA-50 began flying back. It shot out flares before a missile struck into the aircraft's side. Seconds later more missiles crashed into the surrounding heroes, as three F-35s flew by overhead.
Snake looked up at the aircraft confused, knowing without a doubt they were not MSF. The sound of helicopters became present again, and Snake readied himself for enemy reinforcements. Instead, he was surprised to find Blackhawks and Apaches flying up to their position. The Blackhawks' doors opened, with what looked like soldiers mounting the aircraft's door guns. There they fired into the crowd of heroes. In mere minutes after their arrival the enemy began to pull back.
The aircraft in the area slowly landed, as the men inside filed out. Several larger helicopters then arrived, mostly King Stallions, and began landing around them. The King Stallions were empty, however.
"Yo!" someone called out, drawing Snake's attention. He found one of the unknown men walking over to him carefully. The man's face was covered in scars, with some only hidden by a thick brown beard. In his hands was an MSBS Grot, pointed at the ground. His helmet had a pair of grayish-green wings painted onto the side and a patch of the Polish flag on his chest.
"You Snake?" the man asked.
"I am," Snake replied, still wary of the newcomers. He saw a few of them walking over to Nagant, the woman now unconscious. He was worried for a few seconds before he spotted the red cross on the men's helmets.
"Apex, top hero of the Hussars." the man introduced, before holding out a hand.
"Poles I assume," Snake surmised, now letting his guard down a little.
"You'd be right. Apologies for not arriving sooner." Apex told him.
"It's fine, I didn't know you were our extraction though," Snake replied calmly, watching as the Hussar's medics tended to Nagant's wounds. One of them lifted their hand, and all the metal shrapnel floated out of Nagant's body. A second medic then had some golden goo form from their hand, which they placed on Nagant's wounds. In seconds the goo would seep into her flesh, and quickly fix up her body.
"It was a last-minute thing, something the President offered," Apex stated, to which Snake turned to face him.
"Well, give him my thanks,"
"I would, but I think you can give it to him,"
Apex pointed out at another helicopter that had now arrived. It was a much more heavily armored Blackhawk, with limited speed and maneuverability for protection. It landed very quickly before someone booked it out of the helicopter. Several people soon followed after him, swearing loudly as they did so. Very quickly a man in a suit ran up to Snake, with the men behind him soon catching up. The man was out of breath but stood tall.
"Mr. President," Apex greeted.
"My daughter where is she?" the President asked between breaths. Snake looked around for a moment, before pointing out at a crowd of kids. He didn't know which one was the President's, but one of them would recognize the face of their father. Sure enough, one did. The girl was sitting on the ground, her legs too burnt to walk. But she did everything she could to wave her father over. He was there in seconds, scooping her up into a hug as both shed tears. After a few minutes, one of the Hussar's medics would approach the two and move the President's daughter to a gurney.
The hero would then move the girl over to one of the King Stallions while the President followed. For a moment the two began to pass by Snake, where the President stopped for a minute.
"I must apologize for my lack of professionalism there," the President told him, before holding out his hand. Snake grabbed it and shook it before the President began walking back to his daughter.
"Can't blame you for it." Snake replied, "I'd have done the same in my case."
"I truly can't thank you or your men enough. If there is anything you need, just ask." the President stated, before the two arrived at the King Stallion. He entered it quickly, sitting right next to his daughter.
"Anything?" Snake inquired, as a few ideas came to mind.
"Well, things that can be approved in parliament and don't violate anything big," the President explained.
"Hmm, I'll keep that in mind," Snake told him, before the King Stallion closed its doors, the helicopter fully loaded. It took off then, leaving Snake standing in the open. At that moment, he pulled out a cigar and lit it. Looking around the area, they still had a lot of work to do. The L-ATVs needed to be extracted, the wounded needed attention, and the kids had to be sent home. At least they had some help now.
"Seriously, what the hell did you guys do to this thing?" Titanium Mastiff asked as he scrolled through the never-ending page on VIC's computer.
"It was left on for a week straight. No one realized until a few days ago." Lion explained. The software engineer groaned in annoyance as he continued to scroll. He was pretty sure the cursor wasn't even moving at this point.
"Well, the best I can do is reboot the system."
"Is that the best option?" Lion asked.
"It's the only option, either that or building you an AI from scratch," Mastiff told him.
"What happens to all the research data?"
"It's most likely going to be wiped."
"Fine, let's at least see what it found at the end," Lion reasoned. Mastiff obliged and clicked at the bottom of the scroll bar. After a few seconds, the computer's fans would begin to sound like jet engines. The screen didn't change at all, still loading as it processed the command received.
"How many simulations did this thing create?" Mastiff asked, watching as the screen kept freezing up every few seconds.
"I'm not sure, that's part of the reason I want to see what it's made," Lion answered calmly.
"Well, however many it is, it's got the damn thing frozen. It's going to take hours, possibly days to reach the bottom if this thing is still running." Mastiff explained.
"Not like we can turn it off," Lion muttered, to Mastiff's confusion and somewhat worry.
"... What do you mean?" he asked.
"I tried turning it off yesterday, but it stayed on," Lion explained.
"Did you pull the plug on it?"
"No, I want the data to remember."
"Of course, you do." Mastiff muttered, "Well, now I'm thinking this could be one of two things. One is what we already thought that this thing created enough simulations to lag the entire system. Two is it being the actions of a hacker."
"You think a hacker took control of VIC?"
"Maybe. If that's the case I'm not too worried, since VIC is set up on a separate network. We'll only know if I'm right later."
There were many things Midoriya found interesting. When he was younger it was heroes, and to a lesser extent, continues to be an interest. He found the quirks they had, the costumes they wore, and even their fighting styles interesting. However, with his training and experiences with the MSF, he found a new interest in military history. And it's tales of great logisticians, generals, soldiers. If Midoriya was to join the MSF one day, then he would have to know of these events.
He would have to study and learn from them. Yet for all that interest, he couldn't help but groan as he read through Mr. Musa's assignment.
"So… if the Market Revolution was what ended the Great Depression… wait that isn't right," Rody muttered nearby, lying on the open rooftop of Mother Base. They had chosen to study outside for no real reason, just wanting to feel the sun on their skin.
"The Market Revolution was in the US during the 1800s, and the Great Depression was a global event in the 1900s," Midoriya explained while giving DD a belly rub. It didn't help with his assignment, but DD seemed to like it.
"Shoot, then what ended the Great Depression?" Rody asked, looking up from his paper.
"For what country? France? The UK? Germany?" Midoriya asked in turn.
"Luxemburg," Rody replied, causing Midoriya's eyes to widen slightly from surprise.
"I don't know." Midoriya answered, "Why did you even choose Luxemburg?"
"I panicked. Everyone else had already taken the good countries." Rody replied to which Midoriya could understand. The assignment the two were working on, was a small paper on what ended the Great Depression in a country you chose. Now the unit was focusing on Europe so there were countries that were expected to be chosen first. Britain, France, Germany, Italy, and Spain had all been chosen almost immediately.
Then there was Switzerland, Belgium, the Netherlands, Denmark, and Poland, which was the country Midoriya had gotten. That one had been easy to find information on, but difficult to write down. Not because he couldn't think of what to write, but more of what not to. Rody however was having the opposite problem.
"Can you change countries?" Midoriya asked, "What hasn't been taken yet?"
"I don't know. I mean I could get something if I switched to Romania." Rody answered, with Pina displaying how stressed he was.
"That might be the best option," Midoriya agreed before focusing back on his work.
"Still there has to be something on Luxemburg I can find."
"Well, they were dependent on France and Germany for iron and steel for a time. However, that was partly due to previous economic woes." a voice stated from somewhere. Confused the boys looked around for a moment before finding Nezu sitting on the roof's railing.
"Mr. Principal?" Midoriya asked confused, "Why are you here?"
"He's the Principal!?" Rody called out in a panicked hushed tone. He may or may not have swiped the answers for a test a few times.
"No that's his hero name," Midoriya explained, with Nezu nodding in confirmation.
"It was supposed to be Mr. Principles but the guy who put it into the system spelled it wrong," Nezu explained further before taking a sip of tea, which he got from… somewhere.
"As to answer your question Midoriya, I'm taking a break, and I thought this rooftop looked like a nice spot to relax. However, now I am perplexed by what you two are doing."
"History paper," Midoriya answered.
"Ah history, truly a fascinating subject," Nezu commented, "What do you have so far?"
"Nothing much," Midoriya replied somewhat confused as to what Nezu was doing.
"I'm pretty sure I have even less," Rody muttered. Nezu took a sip of tea in response, before bringing his paw to his chin.
"Well, I don't mean to ruin the work you boys have already done, but you're going about this all wrong." Nezu stated.
"Come on," Rody muttered quietly, with Pina slamming her head into the ground repeatedly.
"How?" Midoriya asked, as he now reread the entirety of his paper.
"Simple really, you're treating this like it's math. A problem that needs to be solved and not what it is: a story. One with many different sides and answers." Nezu answered calmly, "For example in the US, it is commonly debated if the New Deal or World War Two ended the Great Depression. Both arguments have valid answers to the problem, yet both occurred in the story."
"I guess that makes sense," Midoriya replied as he thought it over. Sure enough, he found what he'd written to be lacking a little. It had no real complexity and only one answer, even though dozens of others occurred at the same time. There was no singular answer like in a math equation, yet that's how he'd written his paper.
"Thanks," Midoriya stated, now a little annoyed with himself for making such an easy mistake.
"Oh, it's nothing, the educator in me just can't help itself sometimes." Nezu replied after taking a sip of tea. With that, Rody and Midoriya would finish their assignment quickly, while Nezu looked out at the surrounding ocean.
