Mewtwo kept practicing, refining his mental reach, but as time passed, he grew more focused on his silent work and stopped talking to Kaina. She didn't mind. They were both used to long stretches of silence, especially during surveillance.
They had spent plenty of time together on missions, often going hours without a word. It was part of the job—and right now, there was nothing interesting happening anyway.
After several hours patrolling their assigned perimeter, still nothing happened. Not a single incident. That alone was suspicious. In a society filled with superhumans, it was rare for hours to pass without some kind of disturbance.
Robberies, assaults, reckless uses of Quirks—there was always someone testing the limits of the law. That was why pro heroes and patrol units were always on duty. Keeping order in a world where people had powers wasn't easy.
And yet, the streets were completely quiet.
"Kaina?" Mewtwo asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
"I know," she replied, already reading his thoughts. "Four hours. Not even a petty theft."
Mewtwo floated a little higher and scanned the cityscape below. "I've got a hunch," he said. "Let's call it a day and report back to the Bureau. You make the call."
Kaina raised an eyebrow. "We've still got a couple of hours left. What are you thinking?"
"Think about it," Mewtwo said telepathically. "There's supposed to be a local hero watching over this district. And now, suddenly, two outsiders—you and me—show up to patrol. At the same time, reports go dead silent. Just one minor incident when we arrived, and nothing since. It doesn't add up. I think someone tipped people off that we were here. The criminals have gone underground for now."
Kaina frowned, thinking it through. "So your plan is to act like we're leaving, report that everything's quiet, and then double back?"
Mewtwo nodded. "Exactly. If someone's hiding or watching us, we need to make them believe the coast is clear. Then we wait."
"Alright," Kaina said with a short nod. "Let's see where this leads."
She tapped the intercom built into her suit and radioed in. "Area's quiet. No incidents to report. We're heading back to headquarters to close out the patrol."
Once the message was logged and confirmed, both heroes took off in the direction of the Bureau. From the outside, it looked like they were leaving, exactly as planned.
The city district they had been patrolling was large—roughly four kilometers in diameter—and had a reputation.
According to the reports, it was a hot zone. Robberies, gang activity, Quirk misuse—it was all too common here. The frequency of incidents was what had triggered the Bureau's attention in the first place. That's why they had sent Kaina, someone with experience and sharp instincts.
But if someone had gone out of their way to make this zone look clean while high-level heroes were watching, then either they were trying to hide something big… or they were incredibly careless, drawing even more attention to themselves by trying too hard to cover their tracks.
Once they were out of sight, Mewtwo and Kaina veered off their original course and circled back to the patrol area. This time, they switched to stealth mode. Both of them moved through side streets and rooftops, slipping between buildings and scanning alleyways. Neither made themselves visible to the public.
Despite their striking appearances—Kaina with her distinctive gear and Mewtwo with his unmistakable form—they were fast and efficient. They moved through the city like ghosts. Most civilians didn't even notice them. A few might've caught a glimpse of something flicker past—just a blur in the corner of their eye—but nothing more.
Now, the real patrol had begun.
They scanned the area, searching for anyone who seemed out of place—someone acting nervous, glancing around too often, or using a Quirk in public. But for a long time, nothing. Just the same dull streets and quiet alleys. Nearly two more hours passed before anything caught their attention. Finally, a group appeared, slipping through narrow alleys, moving with purpose. At a glance, they looked ordinary—nothing strange, nothing worth noting.
But from their rooftop vantage point, Kaina, a seasoned sniper with eyes like a hawk, zoomed in. She watched them closely, reading their lips as they muttered to each other. "They're looking for people to rob," she said calmly over the comm. "They're behind on their quota. They're blaming us for slowing things down and now they have to make up for it."
Mewtwo nodded, locking eyes with the group from a distance. "We split up?" he asked, out of respect more than uncertainty. Kaina was still his mentor, and officially the one in charge. He knew what needed to be done, but protocol—and habit—made him ask.
"You don't need to ask the obvious," Kaina replied curtly. "We split. Let them do their thing. We only step in if someone's in real danger. Otherwise, we follow them back to wherever they're hiding."
Without waiting for a response, she disappeared from sight, already on the move.
They each picked someone from the group to tail. Mewtwo chose a man in a green hoodie. The guy moved cautiously through side streets, his eyes scanning every passerby. Then, subtly, he activated his Quirk.
Mewtwo narrowed his eyes—it was a weak ability, but used cleverly. The man's fingers morphed into a gelatinous substance, thin and flexible, almost like a tendril of slime. With swift, practiced movements, the tendril slithered out across the pavement, unseen by the crowd, and slipped into a woman's purse. In seconds, it withdrew a wallet, emptied the cash, then discarded the empty wallet in a nearby alley.
He repeated the process several times, weaving through the streets, pulling in small hauls. He kept the credit cards and anything else of value. Mewtwo followed quietly from above, occasionally dipping into his telepathy. But the man's thoughts were mundane—just greed and small-time ambitions. Plans to spend the money, frustration at being behind on his quota, and idle thoughts about his next target. No mention of superiors, corrupt heroes, or anything useful.
So Mewtwo kept trailing him, waiting for something more.
As time went on, more petty thefts happened. Others from the group began robbing in different parts of the district. Meanwhile, regular civilians—those still out this late—began heading home.
The streets emptied. This part of the city was already on the rougher side, a struggling suburb by urban standards, but with the number of heroes in the city, it shouldn't have been this bad.
Eventually, the man Mewtwo was tailing finished his spree. To Mewtwo's surprise, instead of heading to some run-down safe house or a hidden alleyway, the thief made his way toward the city center. It was unexpected—blatantly risky.
And then it got worse.
He walked right up to a building that made Mewtwo's jaw tighten.
A hero agency.
It was so bold it bordered on idiotic. To use that place as a base—or even just to show up there after committing robberies.
"Are you kidding me?"
Mewtwo stared in disbelief. Sure, all the signs had pointed to this, but he hadn't expected it to be this blatant. Not even the first dealer he and Kaina had tailed had been this reckless.
He watched as more people trickled into the building. One by one, they passed through the front doors without hesitation. Among them was the man Kaina had decided to follow. When Mewtwo glanced in her direction, he didn't need to link minds with her to understand what she was thinking. Her face said it all—flat, unimpressed, and annoyed.
"Seriously?" her eyes seemed to say. "Here? Directly into a hero agency?"
It was so foolish it almost felt like a trap. But no, the panic on people's faces gave away the truth. This wasn't a setup. It was carelessness wrapped in confidence.
And it gave them exactly what they needed.
This was enough to act. No more waiting.
Without a word, both Mewtwo and Kaina moved. Calmly, deliberately, they walked through the front doors of the building. No sneaking, no stealth. It was a hero agency—supposedly a beacon of justice. Yet here it was, letting criminals walk in like regular employees.
The moment they stepped inside, the room fell into absolute silence. Everyone froze—staff, visitors, even the janitor holding a mop mid-swipe.
The receptionist stiffened behind her desk, blinking rapidly, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. No one had been prepared for a pair of heroes to walk through those doors, and their reactions made it clear just how unprepared they were.
The awkward stillness told Mewtwo everything he needed to know. This place wasn't just unknowingly complicit—it was hiding something.
Kaina stood tall and unmoving beside him, letting the tension hang. Her presence alone was intimidating, a loaded weapon waiting for a reason. Mewtwo, on the other hand, was already reaching out—with his mind.
He focused on the receptionist. Her panic was written all over her face, but he didn't waste time with pleasantries. As he touched her consciousness, he felt the mental wall instantly—hastily built, fragile, but still a clear attempt to shield her thoughts.
This time, he didn't hesitate. He pushed hard, shattering the barrier like glass.
The woman gasped, clutching her head as if it physically hurt. Her knees buckled slightly, and for a second she looked like she might collapse. But Mewtwo had already seen what he needed.
"I need to call the boss. Why are they here? They're going to ruin everything. I don't want to go to jail."
Simple and Honest.
She was involved.
Without waiting another second, Mewtwo's eyes began to glow—bright blue. He raised both hands slowly, palms facing outward. A wave of psychic energy radiated through the room.
In an instant, every person in the lobby froze.
Not just paused—but locked in place, mid-step, mid-breath. Like statues, only their eyes moved, darting in confusion and rising fear. The receptionist, the janitor, the office workers—everyone caught in the psychic net. Silent. Motionless.
None of them were strong enough to resist him. Most of the people inside barely surpassed average physical or mental strength.
Even with over twenty people frozen by his power, Mewtwo held them effortlessly—for now.
At that same moment, Lady Nagant moved like a shadow.
She didn't use her Quirk. She didn't need to. With swift, calculated steps, she weaved through the crowd, striking each one with precise, single blows. One by one, they dropped—unconscious before they even knew what hit them. She left only the receptionist untouched.
Meanwhile, Mewtwo extended his psychic reach again, and the metal security curtain at the entrance screeched as it descended, slamming shut with a metallic echo. The building was now sealed—no one could see in, and no one was getting out.
Without wasting time, Mewtwo snapped off the legs from several nearby chairs and used them to bind the unconscious individuals. It was crude but effective. If any of them woke up, they wouldn't be going anywhere.
He hovered above the floor, gliding silently past the wide-eyed receptionist. He had already pulled enough information from her mind—she wasn't necessary anymore. As he passed her, he delivered a controlled psychic strike, and she collapsed to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.
Lady Nagant raised an eyebrow, arms folded. "We needed her, you know?" she said, clearly annoyed. She had hoped to question someone face-to-face about who was behind all of this.
"She wasn't important," Mewtwo replied without pausing. "The one running the show is Extra Strike. He's been running a side business from inside the agency. He uses the staff here to stage robberies, makes it seem like the bureau isn't assigning enough patrols, then feeds that narrative to the public."
He landed softly, continuing without hesitation. "At the same time, he pays the staff involved a cut of the stolen goods—on top of their salaries. Keeps them loyal and quiet. That's the general picture I picked up."
"You read their minds, didn't you?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
Mewtwo gave a small shrug. "Kind of."