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World Hopping with Gacha

While on a school trip, an 18-year-old falls into a frozen lake and wakes up as a baby. Disclaimer I don’t own any elements used in this fanfic just the Main Character.

_TheWatcher_ · Anime et bandes dessinées
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46 Chs

Breaking the Hero Killer

It was a quiet night, one of those moments where everything seemed still, even in a city as large as Hosu. I was strolling through the streets, the cool night air brushing against my face, while keeping my senses expanded. My Reiatsu reached out across the city, sensing the subtle presence of people as they moved about, unaware of the dangers lurking in the dark.

I wasn't in any particular rush tonight. The festival would be over by now, and my students were probably celebrating or licking their wounds after the day's events. But something else was gnawing at me—*Stain*.

My senses were sharp, and I knew he was still out there. We'd been trailing him earlier in the day, but I had a feeling that now, with the cover of night, he'd feel more at ease.

Then, suddenly, a shift. My Reiatsu brushed against something dark—something dangerous. My eyes narrowed as I focused in on the presence.

*Stain.*

There was no mistaking it. He was close, and he was alone. Without wasting a second, I let my energy surge, teleporting directly to the location.

---

I appeared in the narrow alley, just behind Stain. He hadn't noticed me yet, busy wiping the blood from his blade. He stood tall, his back turned, the crimson stains of his victims smeared across his tattered clothes. The metallic scent of blood hung in the air, and for a moment, I could feel the twisted sense of satisfaction radiating from him.

'Pathetic.'

"Enjoying yourself?" I said, my voice calm but laced with mockery.

Stain froze for a split second before turning around, his eyes wide with surprise at my sudden appearance. His grip tightened on his blade, but he quickly masked his shock with a twisted grin.

"So, you're the one," Stain sneered, his voice rough and condescending. "The hero who's been trailing me with that detective."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "You know, you're really pathetic."

Stain's grin faltered slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "What did you say?"

"I said you're pathetic," I repeated, folding my arms across my chest. "I've seen vigilantes with better ideals than yours, and they don't hide behind a warped sense of justice to justify their actions."

Stain's face twisted with anger. "Warped sense of justice? You think you understand me? You think you know what true justice is? These so-called heroes, they've strayed from their path! They've become corrupted, selfish, doing nothing but serving their own interests. They need to be purged!"

"Purged?" I scoffed, stepping forward, my eyes locking onto his. "You don't even understand what justice is. You kill people and call it justice, but you're no different from the villains you claim to despise. If anything, you're worse."

Stain gritted his teeth, the veins on his neck bulging as he gripped his sword. "You don't get it! The world needs someone like me! Heroes like Endeavor, they—"

"Spare me the speech," I interrupted, my tone now cold. "I've know people who have ideals, real ideals, not whatever twisted fantasy you've concocted to make yourself feel righteous. One of them is just a kid, and his whole belief is simple but much grand than yours becuase according to him—'saving people is the right thing to do.' He dosen't need to kill anyone to prove it."

Stain's expression wavered, but I wasn't done.

"And another? He protects his entire city, not just from villains, but from the corrupt government that tries to ruin it from within. But unlike you, he doesn't kill. Why? Because if he did, what would be the difference between him and the very people he's trying to stop?"

Stain's breathing grew heavier. "What are you trying to say? That those people are better than me?"

"They are," I said bluntly. "Because they don't hide behind murder and call it justice. You're nothing but a coward, Stain. A pathetic coward who couldn't live up to the ideals of the heroes you claim to follow, so you decided to tear them down instead."

Stain's eyes blazed with fury, but there was something else there—doubt. My words were sinking in, cracking the foundation of his twisted beliefs.

"You think you're making a difference," I continued, stepping even closer. "But in the end, all you're doing is spreading more chaos. You're not a hero, and you never will be. You're just another villain."

"Shut up!" Stain roared, lunging at me with his sword raised high.

I didn't even flinch. With a burst of speed, I moved faster than he could react, stepping to the side and avoiding his attack effortlessly.

"Pathetic," I muttered again, watching as Stain stumbled, his rage blinding him. "You're not even worth the effort."

He came at me again, swinging his sword wildly, but I wasn't interested in fighting. I dodged his strikes with ease, barely even moving as his attacks missed me by miles.

"Stop running!" he shouted, his voice hoarse with frustration. "Fight me!"

"There's no point," I said, my voice low but carrying across the alley. "You've already lost."

Before he could react, I moved. In an instant, I was behind him, my hand gripping the back of his neck. He tried to struggle, but it was futile. My speed, my power—it was beyond anything he could comprehend.

"You're done," I whispered in his ear before slamming him into the ground.

Stain hit the pavement with a grunt, his body limp, but I could still sense his consciousness flickering. I wasn't here to kill him, after all. That would've been too easy.

I crouched down beside him, watching as he struggled to lift his head, his pride clearly shattered.

"You wanted to make a statement," I said, my voice now soft, almost pitying. "But all you did was prove how weak you are."

Stain tried to speak, but his voice came out as a choked gasp.

"Heroes like the ones you idolize—they weren't perfect," I continued. "But they didn't kill to get their point across. You? You've lost sight of everything that matters."

With one swift chop on the neck, I knocked him out completely, leaving him unconscious on the cold, blood-stained pavement. I stood up, brushing the dust off my hands.

"Sleep tight, Hero Killer," I muttered, stepping away. "Maybe when you wake up, you'll realize just how pointless all of this really was."

---

As I left the alley, I knew Stain's time was up. The authorities would arrive soon, and his reign of terror would come to an end. I had no need to stick around and watch him get dragged off to prison.

But as I walked away, I couldn't help but think about the others—the people I had mentioned to Stain. Peter with the simple ideal of saving others, and Bruce who fought against corruption without taking a single life. They were the true heroes, the ones who understood what it meant to protect and serve without losing themselves to the darkness.

*Stain* would never understand that.

But that wasn't my problem anymore. He was finished.