When Ryota got home, he stretched out with a relaxed sigh.
There was something about being in his own place.
Even though the apartment was rented and didn’t technically belong to him, he still felt an unprecedented emotional high.
It’s hard to understand if you’ve never strived for independence.
The apartment was on the second floor of a two-story building.
It was quite simple, but it had all the amenities he needed for life.
A bath, a kitchen corner, space for a computer desk and a bed, and another room for training with lots of free space.
This room was separated from the “bedroom” by only a thin, almost cardboard-like partition.
It was completely empty, as much as Ryota could manage.
Except for a PVC mat on the floor.
When he moved in, much of what was there had been left by previous tenants.
A stove, an old wardrobe, a bed, a refrigerator, and even a worn-out but still working TV.
So he didn’t have to spend much on furnishings.
A mattress, an electric kettle, a slow cooker, that mat, and some groceries.
That was all he bought.
So his bank account still looked decent, with a modest sum sporting six zeros (note: yen, so don’t freak out).
Considering he had earned this money over almost eight years, using his brain’s cheating abilities to the max, it was actually a small amount.
After a traditional cup of tea, he changed into loose clothes and went into the empty room.
Why, with all his money, hadn’t Ryota filled this room with sports equipment, given its purpose?
There was an interesting reason.
The thing was, even though he had started training from the moment he arrived, he didn’t use any equipment at first.
He knew that pushing too hard at an early age could come back to haunt him later.
All his training was focused on working with his own body weight and improving basic metrics like flexibility and endurance.
He planned to take the next step only four years ago.
But he ran into a problem.
First, he was a bit of a sociopath.
Large crowds of people stressed him out.
So gyms and sports clubs were out.
Second, he was still a sociopath.
Other people’s attention during a workout would annoy him.
Honestly, there were no other reasons besides not wanting any publicity whatsoever.
So the obvious solution was to use his cheating abilities.
Was it hard for someone who could fly around the planet in half an hour to satisfy their desire for privacy?
That sounded like a trick question.
Luckily, the answer was no.
Even two hundred years after the twenty-first century, humanity still hadn’t fully explored the earth.
Moreover, based on what Ryota had learned, the human population in the world of MHA during the canon era was even slightly lower than in his past.
Back to training.
Without equipment, a dedicated space, or a coach, but with the ability to manipulate vectors, coming up with something wasn’t hard.
A simple algorithm that applied proportional resistance to every movement Ryota made was designed and implemented in a few minutes.
A few more minutes for calibration and difficulty adjustment, and it was ready.
In essence, this method resembled underwater training, minus the oxygen problems and excess moisture.
Under the pressure caused by his own vectors, even the simplest movement, like raising an arm, required every muscle in his body to tense.
After a couple of months of training, looking at the effectiveness, he couldn’t have gone back to “simple” methods like dumbbells and machines.
The only thing that annoyed him was the need, exhausted as he was, to return home each time from remote, uninhabited places.
But now that problem was gone.
Because the resistance was a percentage of the force applied, it hadn’t gotten easier even after several years.
Just more familiar.
But the results fully justified everything.
***
The next day at the academy started quite routinely.
It would be naive to hope that just because you got into a hero academy, they wouldn’t demand knowledge of regular subjects.
So general education subjects received no less attention than heroics.
Well, that applied to ordinary students.
Ryota planned to make most of his teachers realize his cosmic genius and not bother him too much with simple lessons.
After all, he already knew most of the school curriculum at the time of his arrival.
And with his significantly increased intelligence and learning speed, memorizing anything he was missing was child’s play.
Until lunch, Ryota was bored out of his skull and fended off overly interested classmates.
Then he ate the bento he had brought from home (paranoia never sleeps! Enemies are everywhere, and the food is one hundred percent poisoned!).
Then things got more interesting.
“I AM HEEEEERE!” A huge man burst into the classroom, which was slightly nervous in anticipation of the first fundamental hero training.
All Might.
Needless to say, his appearance caused an absolute furor.
“Really, All Might?”
“Look, he came through the door like a normal person!”
“All Might is going to teach us? Cool!”
Ryota looked at the class with somewhat surprised eyes.
No, he understood that the hero standing at the teacher’s desk now was immensely popular.
But this much?
And it’s not like they were all die-hard fans.
However, if you were a real All Might fanatic, finding out he decided to work as a teacher at U.A. wouldn’t be too hard.
Even one of Ryota’s acquaintances, a shut-in, knew about this information.
And he certainly wasn’t a fan, if only for image reasons.
While Ryota watched the unfolding chaos distantly, the number one hero finally gathered his thoughts.
With his powerful bass voice, he completely shut down the students’ noise.
“Fundamental Hero Training!” All Might spread his arms out dramatically, showing off his impressive muscles.
“In this class, we will build your foundation as heroes through various trials! And we’ll start with this!” The hero reached behind his back and, a moment later, revealed a sign with just two words written on it.
“Battle Trial!”
***
The boys’ locker room of Training Ground Beta.
As you might guess from the name, it was filled exclusively with guys.
They were now, with abandon and radiating enthusiasm in all directions, trying to squeeze into their self-designed Hero Costumes.
Ryota stood a little to the side, already changed, projecting a slight sense of superiority with every tiny gesture.
He had devoted a lot of time to designing his future costume.
In particular, he spent over two hours fighting his inner Chunibyo, which was trying with all its might to claim the right to a stylish black cloak.
And here’s the catch.
That same insidious inner demon, suffering from eighth-grader syndrome, had somehow already calculated the vector algorithm by which said cloak would flap and shimmer dramatically even in a vacuum.
And it was actively broadcasting this scene into his head, whispering slyly that a scuba tank could easily be hidden under the cloak.
That was a dirty blow.
A scuba tank, you see, is not just a reservoir of compressed, cooled gas.
It is, practically, a panacea!
The key to immortality and omnipotence!
If Ryota had an oxygen tank, he wouldn’t fear a nuclear bomb or teleportation into space!
An oxygen tank wasn’t an object.
It was a dream.
A goal.
And it was so close.
All he had to do was give in to his inner Chunibyo and his inner dignity at the same time.
However, common sense and a sense of style prevailed.
How he looked in the eyes of others wasn’t so important to Ryota.
But in his own eyes… a black cloak would be fun only at first.
And then…
In the end, through an inhuman struggle with himself, Ryota managed to create a concept for the most suitable costume.
First and foremost, comfort!
The costume should be quick and easy to put on and take off, not restrict movement, and have adequate ventilation.
Second, appearance.
Black and white, with white predominating.
No pretentiousness or overt posing.
Strict and simple, but so that looking at it from the outside, you got the impression it was a hero costume, not some strangely looking casual wear.
Despite the difficulty described, creating something like this was quite simple.
He just had to remember Accelerator’s look and add a couple of details.
Third, functionality.
Someone might say it’s stupid to put functionality last.
But Ryota’s abilities made him extremely versatile.
As for useful gadgets, only an oxygen mask (he couldn’t resist) for a dozen breaths and a couple dozen ceramic balls in special compartments on his wrists.
In case he needed to hit enemies at a distance and couldn’t use the environment to create projectiles.
He didn’t bother with a mask covering his face.
He simply gave the costume a high turtleneck collar that covered the lower half of his face and could be unbuttoned with a couple of movements.
After all, heroes in the world of MHA don’t pay much attention to anonymity.
After the guys finally dressed up, they all headed for the exit.
Ryota followed.
If before he thought the male part of the class took too long, while waiting for the girls, he realized they were nothing.
Even the ever-smiling All Might standing off to the side looked somewhat plastic.
Not surprising.
Ryota vaguely recalled that right now, the number one hero had pretty strict time limits for using his muscle form.
Fortunately, this “test” of willpower came to an end, and the class finally gathered more or less.
The time had come for the next trial.
“Oh, Deku!
Cool costume!
Looks really comfortable!” a girl in a very form-fitting, space-themed costume with a “bubble” on her head exclaimed with inexhaustible positivity.
‘…Why didn’t I think of that?!’ Ryota mentally exclaimed, looking at the upper part of Uraraka’s costume with barely concealed envy.
‘Not to mention…’
A crowd of cute schoolgirls in form-fitting or at least charming costumes.
Another test for a body flooded with teenage hormones.
A real day of trials.
“Arai-san! You look really cool too!” While Midoriya, in his somewhat awkward green jumpsuit, was trying to stammer something back to the girl who had complimented him, she switched her attention to Ryota.
“That color scheme really suits you!”
“…Thanks,” the guy nodded almost imperceptibly.
It was nice when your efforts were noticed and appreciated.
Not to mention, seeing Midoriya’s example, Ryota didn’t want to leave a similar impression.
So he decided to say at least something.
“Yours too. It gives a light and airy feel.”
“Really?” The girl beamed, hopping closer to Ryota as if she had found a kindred spirit.
“Ehehehe…”
‘Hero costumes are the best!’ Ryota enthusiastically whispered in his mind, looking at the scene before him.
‘…Why do I feel like I’m replacing someone?’
“Teacher!” came Iida’s slightly muffled, helmet-distorted, and, as usual, seriously-idiotic voice.
“About the training ground. Will the trial take place in the same city model as the entrance exam?”
“You’ll see!” All Might’s joyful voice rang out.
He was clearly pleased that the lesson was approaching its main topic.
“Just a few steps, and we’ll be there! The battle trial will take place inside the building!”
He pointed at the structure rising behind him.
“Even though you may often see battles with villains happening on the streets, statistically, they often happen in places hidden from prying eyes!” The hero began his lecture.
“Hostage situations, barricaded houses, the black market. In the superhero community, any halfway decent villain hides in the shadows.” Despite the hero’s face not changing, still dazzling with its perpetual smile, the atmosphere from his words chilled slightly.
“For this, you’ll be divided into teams of ‘Villains’ and ‘Heroes’ to conduct a two-on-two team battle!”
…
…
“Ehh?”