I didn't know what was weirder.
That my book was on the curriculum list.
Or that nobody else seemed to find it weird.
Most of 1-A had already shuffled out, either heading to the gym, the gardens, or the cafeteria. I lingered—not because I had something to do, but because I didn't.
Besides, the handbook was thicker than expected.
I slipped it into my bag and gathered the other printouts. The curriculum sheet still had my pen name listed there in clean, uncaring font. I shook my head, half-laughing under my breath, and made my way out into the corridor.
Seemed like only the Hero Course students were free, since I didn't see anyone else wandering the halls who wasn't from my class.
Twenty minutes later, I was out of the school building and walking around the grounds with no particular destination, reading through the booklets one after the other.
I sighed dramatically while doing so.
"Truly worthy of being the number one Hero School in Japan."
I had to admit, the place was massive.
It was called U.A. High School, yet it was larger than most universities and packed with training facilities.
Facilities I was going to check out right now.
Following the map directions, I headed to Ground Beta. The location where Class 1-A would have our first Hero Basic Training tomorrow, if my memories were right.
It didn't take long. A towering wall came into view, cordoning off the area.
But when I reached the entrance, I was surprised to see a familiar face. A tall figure turned the corner just ahead of me, moving at a relaxed pace. We both rounded the same edge at the same time.
I nearly ran into him.
Black eyes, athletic build, a bright smile, and dressed in a yellow suit that complemented his iconic gravity-defying hair. Who else could it be?
"Uh—All Might?"
"Oh..."
He blinked, eyes slightly wider for a fraction of a second. "Hello, young man!"
His voice sounded bright and cheerful in my ears.
"Sorry for almost bumping into you. I didn't expect anyone else to be here. Especially you."
His ever-present smile seemed to expand slightly.
I was stunned.
"Hold on. You remember me?"
He laughed in response, his voice booming.
"Of course I do, young Kenneth. How could I forget the name of a brave young man with a heroic heart?"
My lips twitched a bit in response to that.
"It's been ten months since we last saw each other, young man. You look well. I'm glad to see you made it into U.A. The Hero Course, I presume?"
"Um... yeah. It's Class 1-A." I said, trying to play off my awkwardness. Well, part of this was genuinely awkward for reasons I couldn't explain.
"It's nice to see you again. I never had the chance to say thank you for your help back then. My mom wishes she could repay you."
He shook his head in response.
"Please, it was no trouble at all. Knowing that you got reunited with your family is more than enough."
His smile softened at the edges—there was something behind that look, but I couldn't place it.
Still, I nodded, offering a half-bow before straightening up. "Thank you, sir. Really."
He chuckled again. "Sir? Oh, now that makes me feel old."
I smiled politely, then put on mild curiosity. "If you don't mind me asking... what brings the Symbol of Peace to U.A.? I mean—are you here for an event? A seminar?"
A beat passed.
Then he scratched the back of his head. "Ah—well, let's just say I'll be making appearances here a little more often. I've recently taken up a part-time position."
"Oh?" I tilted my head slightly. "Teaching?"
He gave a bright thumbs up. "That's right! I'll be one of the instructors for your Hero Basic Training course. Ground Beta here will be seeing a lot of action."
I gave what I hoped was an appropriate reaction—eyes widening just enough, posture stiffening slightly, even managing a little gasp. "That's... incredible."
"Indeed. I take it your first day has gone well so far?" he asked.
"Yeah. A little intense at times, but nothing too bad."
"Excellent! That's what I like to hear. Your class has a lot of promising students. Be sure to pace yourself and learn as much as you can. U.A. will push you harder than most institutions, but with the right mindset, you'll come out stronger for it."
He made a slow turn as he spoke, eyes glancing up at the sky. The clouds were shifting slightly, golden light bleeding through the grey. Time was ticking.
"Well then, I must be off," he said. "Duty calls. I have a few more arrangements to make before the school day is done."
"Of course," I replied, stepping aside to let him pass.
He gave a parting nod before leaving, his steps steady. My gaze followed him as he moved away, watching his every move.
He looked better than the last time I saw him. No trembling muscles, unsteady steps, or glistening sweat from holding a forced transformation longer than he should have.
During our exchange, he seemed jovial and casual. Always carrying that smile on his face—one that felt practiced to perfection at this point.
Nothing strange outwardly. Just a man breathing with a bit more effort than normal. An effort he hoped no one would notice.
Normally, no one would.
I was probably among the handful of people who knew that this was currently his weak form. The version of him that walked while his bones ached.
Weakened, yet still capable of standing above everyone else. As expected of a knockoff version of Superman.
I focused on All Might's departing back. "Analysis." My eyes glowed crimson, and his form lit up in layers. A thousand tiny lines ghosted across my vision like a wireframe model.
Why was I using my Quirk?
Curiosity, mostly. In my past life, the One For All Quirk was considered to be the second strongest quirk in MHA. Right behind All For One and slightly ahead of New Order.
I wanted to see for myself just how strong All Might was in this form. Of course, this was just my curiosity. The main reason I did this was to get a proper understanding of my current strength for the upcoming USJ attack. Unless there was a major butterfly effect, Shigaraki and the League of Villains invading U.A. was guaranteed.
That wasn't the problem, though. I wasn't scared or worried. Infinity guaranteed that the League on its own would be no problem. Neither would Shigaraki or Kurogiri.
The Nomu, however, was another can of worms.
In the anime, the Nomu was equal to the current All Might in terms of strength. Using All Might as a reference point, I could properly understand what I was going to deal with.
I felt the familiar weight shift behind my eyes.
My control and usage of my analysis Quirk—which I'd taken the liberty of naming Meta Eye recently—had grown exponentially over the last few months. With a bit of imagination, I'd been able to configure it to perform several new functions.
One of which was what I was doing now.
The system analysis categorized muscles, scanned posture, charted every limb. Numbers flowed beside them, assigning density ratios, elasticity, stress limits. Then—comparisons.
I fed in my own mirror mapping. My own structure. My own strength.
The difference was... brutal.
"...Damn," I whispered, eyes narrowing.
His muscles were far denser than mine. His raw output at baseline speed surpassed my current maximums by a margin that made me wince.
Only now did I realize that my previous perspective was a bit too skewed in my favor. I was still untouchable, but unless I managed to catch him off guard, technically, so was he.
My current physical stats meant that the most I could do was follow his attacks and counter with Meta prediction.
And this was after his injury. If this was his weakened state, then—
The analysis revealed more.
"Well... that's gotta hurt," I muttered again, watching red lines flag along his right side—scar tissue, nerve damage, unstable pressure zones. The scan couldn't give me his whole medical history, only estimates based on statistical calculations, but it was accurate enough to tell me that every step he took came with a price.
Still, the man moved, seemingly unaffected.
*To think he's currently in a weakened state.*
This was the All Might that fought villains on a ticking clock and still walked away smiling. At 30%, he was still absurdly, almost cartoonishly strong.
Meaning the Nomu at the USJ would be this strong, at maximum estimate.
"Well, that's surprising."
All Might would soon disappear from sight. I frowned and pushed the scan further—one final comparison.
Reaction speed analysis.
I tried mapping the neural rhythm patterns of his motor cortex, measuring the latency between intent and movement.
It was something I'd started doing recently—tracing movement speed by mental spark, not just muscle twitch. Like I said, my quirk had gotten sharper over the last few months, especially since the Limitless experiment failed.
Unfortunately, I hadn't cracked the Six Eyes substitute yet.
But I'd developed a decent ability to thread internal schematics.
Just before All Might disappeared behind the corner, my analysis completed.
I redirected to map it against my current neural functions. Then... something flickered.
No... not flickered.
Flagged.
*Huh?*
I blinked.
The Mirror Mode window flashed again, but this time with a warning bar. Red text scrawled across the neural map interface.
---
→ Foreign Quirk Signature Detected
→ Origin: Unknown
→ Type: Radio-wave induced Neuro-link
→ Integration timeframe: <18 hours
→ Location: Limbic system + motor cortex fringe
→ Effect: Behavioral inhibition marker (estimated)
→ Intent: Passive command layering (estimated)
→ Status: Dormant. Interference likely pending external trigger
→ Classification: B-Rank Persuasive Quirk Effect (Brainwashing Adjacent)
I stared at it.
Then blinked.
"What the hell?..."
And just like that, a simple scan turned into a question that flipped my entire sense of security upside down.
So much for a first day of school.