Losing Face

_________ POV Narration_________

"That didn't quite go as planned..." Vladislav said while rubbing his thumbs together and looking at his grandfather.

They didn't call a meeting this time, as that would just showcase their failure to the rest of their associates.

Even if individually, the Grigorev's are the strongest, the rest of the families banding together would be able to match them. So they needed to not show any weakness at all.

Vladimir, the old man was just sitting down in his office and looking at his grandson without any visible expression.

"Little Vlad... What do we do about failures in the Grigorev family?" His voice was calm, yet his tone still managed to send chills down Vladislav's spine. The old man was still just as sharp and intimidating as he had ever been.

"We purge them, sir. Erase them and make sure they never happen again..." Vladislav still managed to get his words out before the old man did something predictable.

Taking his hardwood cane, the old man brought it down onto his grandsons head with force. The young man didn't back up though, he didn't dare flinch, as doing so would be an admission of weakness, something that would further lower his standing in his grandfather's eyes.

He stood there as his blood started flowing down his face from his bleeding scalp. The old man still had that same cold look in his eyes.

"Do you think this is a joke, Vladislav?" The young man gulped when hearing his grandfathers now audibly irritated tone. His grandfather only called him by his name when things were really bad. So this wasn't a good sign for what was to come.

Vladimir threw his cane on the ground and sat back down in his chair. He had stood up to reach to his grandsons head.

"I thought that I could trust your judgement in this matter. I thought that you'd know best about how to deal with the situations on your own turf... But I guess my confidence was misplaced." The venom in the old man's tone was simply astonishing.

One would find it difficult to even look at their relatives with half the hatred that Vladimir now eyed Vladislav with.

The young Grigorev family member was about to apologize by instinct. But he stopped himself internally, knowing that doing so would just make things much worse for himself. Saying 'sorry' meant admitting defeat, and no member of Vladimir's family ever admitted defeat...

"Do you understand how much embarrassment I will face when the other old fuckers learn about your failure? After I so confidently supported you? DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND HOW STUPID YOU ARE?!" The old man got angrier and angrier with each word, only stopping after a certain beeping sound entered his ears.

I sort of alarm, a heartrate monitor made specifically for him. It was to prevent anything bad from happening to the old man's heart. The best surgeons and doctors were always on standby near his mansion.

His heartbeat was going off, he was an old man, he wasn't supposed to exert himself so much. So he took a deep breath and calmed himself down.

"I don't care how. I don't want to know anymore. I will have that bugs head on my table by the end of the month... Either that or it will be yours." The old man gave his ultimatum while shooing his grandson off.

'This old piece of shit...' Vladislav thought to himself while leaving the room.

He was young, he knew his limits well. He wasn't reckless. It irked him how all of the blame was placed on him, even though most of the decisions in his business were taken by his grandfather.

'It would be so easy... So simple... One single swing of my arm and his neck would break easily...' The young man clenched his fists, veins showing up on his forehead as he walked down the hallway.

He looked at his suit with an annoyed gaze, his bleeding had stopped, but his clothes were ruined.

'I shouldn't get reckless... One wrong move and I'll be the target of everyone else. No one likes this old fuck, but they all respect him. Killing him would be like spitting in their faces.'

Vladislav hated his grandfather with a passion, but he also knew better than to act on that hatred.

The young man was also marginally stronger than most of the fighters within the Grigorev family. Yet he kept that to himself. Much like he kept most of the applications of his quirk to himself.

His quirk was rather simple sounding. Yet it gave the young man a power that gave him enough confidence to face off against just about anyone.

'Rebound', that was how he had named it. It was rather simple, all of the attacks that his body took, never actually deal any damage when the quirk is active.

They all stack up, eventually, when reaching a certain threshold, to be returned to their respective users.

The quirk also had a side effect of giving Vladislav inhuman reaction speeds, agility and strength. His vitality was also affected.

That was because merely keeping the quirk active took a lot of stamina and concentration. That was what everyone knew about it anyway.

With an ability like that, the young man was bound to have a bright future. At least on paper. Their society always valued stronger quirks, yet his critical mind had gotten him much further than any quirk ever could.

Still, he couldn't quite wrap his head around it... Just how was he supposed to take down Beru?

The insectoid was renowned, known in every corner of Japan and even some places abroad, for his unwavering strength.

He had fought many foes, even All for One, a person that could take down entire city districts with a few moves in his prime.

Now Vladislav had to somehow deal with that issue. With a limited time too... That was simply impossible.

Alf, the best assassin that Vladislav could get his hands on had simply failed out of stupidity. The other group he had hired was actually captured.

He knew that some of them would be able to kill themselves during police captivity, as to avoid disclosing information. But there were still a few he had no knowledge of.

The only reason he knew of this colossal failure so quickly was that one assassin managed to survive. He was the one that gave the rest information about Alf's situation in real-time.

He was lucky to not have been part of the actual assassination attempt, as he also would've likely been captured.

'I guess I'll have to hurry up my plans... My hand is forced, I can't really help it.' He thought as he wiped the blood from his face with a handkerchief.

Meanwhile, Yori was sitting around in his laboratory. He was simply looking up some of the information he had gained from the assassins through the databases he had available.

Unfortunately, neither of them gave him much of anything useful... But something did lead to a breakthrough eventually. Yori found out more about Alf's identity.

It wasn't all that difficult thanks to the detailed description Beru gave of his quirk. There weren't many shadow manipulating assassins on the market.

Yori managed to link the dots, looking into whatever business the man might've had and piecing together a profile for his target.

He was steadily getting closer to finding out who the ringleader was. Simply put, he was doing his job...

As for Beru... Well, the insectoid certainly tried to do more paperwork. But he ended up doing what he knew best, procrastination was the name of the game, and Beru was playing it while doing anything but what he needed to.

He might've gotten a bit more serious about the world around him, but he still couldn't be bothered to work 24/7.

So, he actually decided to go and spend some more time with loved ones and friends. Yori also got a drinking invitation from Beru, the scientist proceeded to throw his phone against the table after calling Beru 'a cunt'.

Well, for now, it was more of a waiting game. Until Yori found out who the perpetrators were, or until Vladislav made his next move.

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