Chapter 2: Tailless

The military helicopter thundered across the night sky, its rotating blades slicing through the cold air above the city.

Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was heavy with tension.

Rows of armed Special Operations personnel sat along both sides of the aircraft, clad in thick tactical armor reinforced with combat plating. Rifles rested against their chests while combat visors concealed most of their expressions.

Compared to them—

Miyabi looked completely out of place.

No armor.

No helmet.

No visible protection whatsoever.

She simply sat near the open side door wearing her usual uniform while casually eating slices of melon from a small container resting on her lap.

Nobody questioned it.

Nobody even found it strange anymore.

After all…

Their chief did not need armor.

The woman herself was already more dangerous than military weaponry.

The loud hum of the helicopter filled the cabin as Miyabi quietly finished another slice before lightly licking the remaining juice from her lips.

Then she turned her gaze toward the city below.

The target location was finally visible.

An abandoned industrial district near the outskirts.

According to intelligence reports and witness tracking, the Hero Killer had been using the area as a temporary hideout.

Miyabi closed the melon container before standing up from her seat.

The movement immediately changed the atmosphere inside the helicopter.

Every operative instinctively straightened their posture.

Miyabi slowly looked around the cabin.

Sharp crimson eyes swept across each subordinate one by one.

No pressure was released.

No killing intent.

Yet the room still became silent.

Completely silent.

"Prepare for combat immediately after landing," Miyabi said calmly.

"YES, MA'AM!"

The response shook the cabin walls.

Every operative saluted simultaneously.

Miyabi gave a small nod.

Then—

Without hesitation—

She opened the helicopter door wider and stepped out into open air.

Several newer operatives instinctively tensed despite knowing what would happen next.

Meanwhile, the veterans barely reacted anymore.

One of the men with reptilian features leaned back against his seat.

"How long you think the Hero Killer lasts?"

"Three hits," another replied immediately.

"Too generous," a different operative snorted. "One hit."

"Nah. Chief usually lets dangerous targets talk first."

"That depends on her mood."

A few operatives quietly nodded in agreement like they were discussing the weather instead of a serial killer's life expectancy.

Near the cockpit, Ryu stared at his seniors with visible confusion.

"…Why are you people gambling on this?"

The older pilot beside him chuckled.

"You're the rookie assigned to Chief Miyabi's unit, right?"

Ryu nodded slowly.

"That explains it."

The pilot lit a cigarette before remembering where he was and quietly putting it away again.

"You'll understand after seeing her work firsthand."

Ryu looked even more confused.

The old pilot merely laughed.

"Right now you still think the Hero Killer is the dangerous one."

Far below—

Miyabi descended through the night sky.

Wind whipped through her black hair while the city lights reflected faintly in her crimson eyes.

Then without sound.

She landed smoothly onto the concrete street below.

Moments later, multiple ropes descended from the helicopter as Special Operations personnel rapidly deployed around the area.

Within less than a minute, the entire squad had assembled behind Miyabi in perfect formation.

Hands behind their backs.

Weapons ready.

Awaiting orders.

Ahead of them stood an abandoned industrial building surrounded by rusted fences and broken windows.

Darkness leaked from inside like a living thing.

Miyabi calmly observed the structure for several seconds.

Then she spoke.

"No verbal confrontation."

The operatives immediately sharpened their focus.

"The moment you confirm the target—neutralize immediately."

Her tone remained completely flat.

Like discussing routine paperwork.

"Understood?"

"YES, CHIEF!"

Miyabi nodded once.

"Go."

The order had barely left her mouth before the entire unit moved.

Like hunting dogs finally released from their chains, Special Operations personnel spread across the abandoned facility with terrifying efficiency.

Some secured the perimeter.

Others breached secondary entrances.

Thermal scanners activated.

Rifles raised.

Communication channels opened.

Meanwhile, Miyabi simply walked toward the main entrance alone.

The abandoned building was cold.

The kind of cold created by years of abandonment, damp concrete, rusting metal, and air that no longer circulated properly.

Every footstep echoed faintly through the dark corridors.

Miyabi walked calmly through the facility without making unnecessary noise.

Her crimson eyes silently scanned the surroundings while the loose ends of her uniform swayed slightly with each step.

Drip.

Water leaked somewhere deeper inside the structure.

Creak.

Old metal pipes shifted overhead.

Then—

Her fox ears twitched slightly.

A movement.

Small.

Carefully hidden.

Not one of her operatives.

Miyabi immediately identified the approximate location from the sound alone.

But her expression never changed.

She continued walking normally as though she had noticed nothing.

If the target wanted to hide—

Then let him hide.

Sometimes the fastest way to catch prey was to become bait.

The dim hallway stretched endlessly ahead while Miyabi casually inspected the surrounding area.

Exposed wires.

Broken support beams.

Fresh footprints hidden beneath older dust.

Signs of recent activity.

Then—

A sudden gust of wind exploded behind her.

Fast and lethal.

Stain emerged from the darkness with frightening speed, sword aimed directly toward her neck.

Clang!

Sparks burst into the air.

Miyabi’s katana sheath blocked the strike effortlessly before the blade could even touch her.

The collision echoed violently throughout the corridor.

Stain’s eyes narrowed beneath his mask.

Miyabi pushed her sword forward with overwhelming force.

Stain immediately leapt backward before landing several meters away in a crouched stance.

“…Hoh.”

His eyes locked onto Miyabi carefully.

“As expected from Special Operations.”

Miyabi remained silent.

Her cold crimson gaze stared at him without emotion.

It felt less like being observed by a person.

And more like standing before a predator deciding whether something was worth killing.

Stain slowly straightened his posture.

“I didn’t expect to become your target this soon,” he said. “It’s almost an honor.”

“Surrender.”

Miyabi’s voice was calm and indifferent.

Stain laughed dryly.

“And if I refuse?”

His grip tightened around his blade.

“There are still countless fake heroes polluting this society. Corrupt cowards pretending to protect people while chasing money and fame.”

His voice gradually sharpened with anger.

“If I don’t kill them, who will?!”

The hallway trembled slightly from the pressure in his voice.

Miyabi simply watched him silently.

Stain pointed his sword toward her.

“You know it too, don’t you?” he demanded. “You’ve seen the corruption with your own eyes. Heroes abusing authority. Heroes protecting their image instead of civilians.”

Still no response.

Strangely enough, that irritated Stain less than expected.

Because unlike others—

She listened.

“I don’t hate you,” Stain admitted. “You’re different. Like All Might. Genuine. Someone who actually protects people.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“You could’ve become a hero yourself. Yet you chose law enforcement instead.”

“Or.”

Miyabi finally spoke again.

Stain instinctively raised his guard.

“Or?”

“I make you surrender.”

The moment the words left her mouth—

She vanished.

Stain’s instincts screamed.

He barely managed to raise his weapon before Miyabi appeared directly in front of him.

Clang!

The impact nearly shattered his stance.

Before he could recover—

Boom!

Miyabi’s kick slammed directly into his chest.

The force launched him across the hallway like a projectile.

Crash!

Concrete exploded behind him as his body smashed into the wall.

Blood immediately spilled from his mouth.

“You talk too much.”

Miyabi appeared beside him again almost instantly.

This time Stain reacted faster.

He twisted his body and blocked her incoming strike with both arms.

“Tsk—!”

Even while defending, the impact forced him backward.

Stain immediately counterattacked with a punch aimed toward her stomach.

Miyabi caught his fist effortlessly.

Then another kick landed.

Crack.

“Gah—!”

Blood sprayed from Stain’s mouth as he crashed hard onto the ground.

His entire body screamed in pain.

Several ribs were probably broken already.

Yet—

He laughed.

Miyabi tilted her head slightly.

Confused.

For a brief moment, she genuinely wondered if the man was a masochist.

Or maybe she simply forgot how insane Stain actually was in the original anime.

Stain slowly dragged himself back onto his feet while wiping blood from his mouth.

“As expected…” he rasped. “You really are monstrous.”

Miyabi silently watched him.

“But I won’t let you arrest me.”

Without waiting further, Miyabi stepped forward again.

However—

Just before she attacked—

Stain grinned.

“After all…”

His eyes gleamed dangerously.

“You won’t have time to protect your subordinates.”

Miyabi’s movement stopped.

For the first time since entering the building—

Her expression shifted slightly.

Then her nose twitched.

A faint smell hidden beneath the damp concrete finally became clear.

Gunpowder.

Explosives.

Miyabi clicked her tongue internally.

The scent of mold and rust throughout the building had interfered with her senses enough to partially conceal it.

Stain had prepared this place in advance.

Which meant—

He expected her arrival from the beginning.

“What do you want?” Miyabi asked coldly.

Stain laughed.

“So you finally noticed.”

His breathing was uneven now from internal injuries, yet his eyes remained sharp.

“I just want you to let me escape.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Well…” Stain shrugged lightly despite his injuries. “Then let me leave for today.”

Miyabi’s gaze shifted briefly deeper into the facility.

Her squad was still inside.

Spread across multiple sectors.

She immediately grabbed her communication device.

Static answered her.

No signal.

“…Jamming equipment,” Miyabi muttered.

“Hehe.”

Stain lowered his blade slightly.

“Knowing someone like you was coming, I had to prepare carefully. Otherwise escaping your claws would’ve been impossible, Miss.”

Miyabi slowly lowered the communicator.

Then she looked back at him.

Cold crimson eyes met bloodshot fanaticism in absolute silence.

“If you think threatening my subordinates will make me reconsider…”

Miyabi stepped forward, closing the distance without urgency, yet each step seemed to press down on the space between them. Her hand moved to the hilt of her katana, drawing the blade out inch by inch. The faint sound of steel sliding free cut through the damp silence.

“…then you misunderstand the situation.”

Her voice carried no anger. No rise. No emphasis.

That, more than anything, made it heavier.

Stain felt it immediately.

Something was wrong.

Not with her stance.

Not with her breathing.

But with the atmosphere itself.

“Never underestimate my subordinates,” Miyabi continued, her gaze fixed on him with quiet finality. “And don’t ever use their lives as leverage against me.”

The blade cleared its sheath.

A thin mist of cold spread from the steel, subtle at first—like breath in winter air—before rapidly intensifying. The temperature in the corridor dropped sharply. Frost crept along the cracked concrete beneath her feet, spreading outward in delicate patterns that glimmered faintly in the dark.

The air began to move.

Not a natural breeze, but something disordered—currents twisting over each other, pulled toward the drawn blade as though the weapon itself had become the center of gravity.

Miyabi’s hair shifted with it, strands lifting slightly as the unseen pressure gathered.

“I intended to bring you in alive.”

Her eyes, calm until now, sharpened—something colder surfacing beneath the surface.

“But I’m no longer concerned with that outcome.”

The frost deepened.

A thin layer of ice formed across the ground beneath her boots, cracking softly under its own expansion.

“If you survive this one strike…” she said, lifting the blade just slightly, angling it toward him, “then I’ll consider letting you go.”

For the first time

Stain felt something close to genuine danger.

His grip tightened around his sword. Muscles coiled. Every instinct screamed at him to move, to evade, to do something—

Anything.

But his body didn’t move.

Because in that moment, it felt like the entire space had been locked in place.

“Tailless.”

The word fell quietly.

And the world responded.

There was no dramatic swing.

No visible arc.

No explosion of force.

One instant everything existed as it was.

Stain’s vision was consumed completely.

Sound vanished.

The pressure disappeared.

Even the sensation of his own body seemed to flicker.

Then—

It returned.

Elsewhere inside the building, Special Operations units abruptly halted mid-search.

Every head turned toward the same direction at once.

They felt it.

A single disturbance that passed through the structure like something had just rewritten the air itself.

“…What was that?” one operator muttered.

Then the sound arrived.

A delayed, distant rupture—like something vast had been cut apart far too cleanly for the noise to register immediately.

A powerful gust followed, rushing through the corridors, slamming against walls and sweeping dust and debris into the air.

Near the rear formation, Ryu flinched as the wind passed through him.

He instinctively raised an arm to shield his eyes.

“…What just happened—?”

No one answered him.

They were already moving.

Ryu stepped out from the broken entrance with the others and stopped.

His breath caught somewhere in his chest.

Above them, the sky had opened.

Not metaphorically.

Literally.

The clouds that once covered the night were gone—split apart so cleanly it didn’t even look natural. A vast, empty line stretched across the sky, revealing the full moon in its entirety.

Moonlight poured down unfiltered.

At the center of it—

Miyabi stood calmly, sliding her katana back into its sheath with a soft, final click.

Before her, Stain remained standing.

Barely.

His body trembled, balance unstable, eyes unfocused. One arm hung at an unnatural angle, blood dripping steadily to the ground.

Not severed.

But close.

Close enough to understand what had just happened.

“If I hadn’t redirected the strike,” Miyabi said, her tone returning to its usual indifference, “you wouldn’t be standing.”

Her gaze rested on him for a brief moment.

“…Hero Killer.”

Stain didn’t respond.

Whether from shock, damage, or the lingering effect of what he had just experienced—

Even he didn’t know.

Miyabi turned away first.

The matter, to her, was already concluded.

“Secure the target.”

Her subordinates moved immediately, closing in with precision and restraint despite the overwhelming display they had just witnessed.

Ryu remained where he was for a second longer, still staring at the sky.

At the clean divide between clouds.

At the impossible quiet that followed something so overwhelming.

“…Chief is insane,” he muttered under his breath, awe slipping through despite himself.

A senior operative beside him chuckled, giving his shoulder a light tap.

“Welcome to the club.”