1 million divided by 250 came to $4,000.

It wasn't a fortune, but it was a nice sum for teenagers who wouldn't have to work for years.

If they'd all put their heads together, their chances of winning might have gone from absolute 0 to 1%.

But humans are a greedy species, so maybe we shouldn't blame them too much for being just as stupid.

- Here we go !, Mic shouted.

The crowd of students pounced on Shoto like a pack of hungry wolves.

The teenager stood with his back straight, the three commas circling lazily around his pupils.

So slow.

Hands reaching for him, fingers about to tear at his clothes, nails ready to rip his skin off.

A tall, broad boy had his hand just behind his head, his index finger just millimeters away from ripping off his mask.

His heart was beating fast, sweat beading on his red skin.

Shoto took a long breath to clear his mind of all thoughts.

It will be pure Taijutsu.

The big boy blinked.

His fingers closed on empty space.

- Where?

Three fingers crashed on his throat like some divine retribution, cutting off his breath.

The boy brought his hands to his throat, eyes bulging, and took a violent kick to the head that sent him crashing into the students behind him, knocking them to the ground like skittles.

Shoto grabbed a wrist, reached under his owner's shoulder, and pulled on the arm. The boy - the one it belonged to - screamed as his shoulder was dislocated.

Some slowed their attack when they heard the scream, but Shoto wouldn't relent - to stop, they should have agreed to not participate.

Now it was too late.

Shoto brought the flat of his foot down on one knee, a sonorous 'crack' as his only response.

The teenager collapsed to the ground, his mouth open in a silent scream, and

Shoto stepped on his shoulders to propel himself into the air.

He spread his legs wide, crushing a nose with his back foot and smashing a jaw with his front.

He landed softly on the ground, crouching to avoid a blow.

- You'll stay sti-

Shoto grabbed the boy, locked his arms under his, Shoto's hands on the back of his head, and forced him to turn toward the tunnel entrance, where fist-sized projectiles were coming from.

He groaned in pain, and Shoto kicked a girl in the stomach, sending her tumbling like a rag doll.

... nine, ten.

The projectiles ceased.

Shoto bent his legs, lifted the boy over his head, and sent him hurtling toward the projectile launcher.

The boy flew in a perfect arc, his feet pounding the air as he found himself a good two meters off the ground, the blood long gone from his face.

He fell onto the launcher, crushing it with all his weight.

Shoto wrapped his hands around the necks of two boys and smashed their heads together, knocking them unconscious.

There was a scream of rage and Shoto rolled to the side, quickly dodging a fist that landed where he'd been a second earlier.

He only glanced down at the cracked ground, preferring to pounce on the bulging giant whose muscles looked more like those of a bodybuilder than a teenager.

The monster in the mortal form tried to encircle Shoto between his powerful arms - surely to crush him - but Shoto was too quick and agile, sliding right under his trap.

Using his extended flexed thigh for support, Shoto placed his foot on his shoulder before doing a quick half turn and wrapping his thighs around the boy's neck.

The sudden lack of air turned the teenager's head purple.

He dug his hands into Shoto's thighs, trying to pull him out of his grip, digging his nails into his flesh.

Shoto squeezed harder than he normally would have, not wanting to waste any more time than necessary against the mini-hulk.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

The giant staggered backwards, deciding to slam Shoto against the wall and - he promptly fainted.

Shoto used his falling body to propel himself against the nearby wall, and his momentum propelled him fast enough to take two huge steps, allowing him to bypass the bulk of the crowd that was still parked at the back.

His target was the group of engineering students huddled around what looked like a small machine in the final stages of assembly.

One of them met his gaze, sweat beading thickly at the sight.

- There he is! There he is! Somebody stop him!

No one could stop him.

The commas spun lazily in his eyes, his brain analyzing at super-realistic speed the dozens of hands that would reach out to grab him as soon as he lost the height of his jump.

Then he did the most obvious thing in the situation: he jumped feet first onto a pair of hands, breaking fingers without being grabbed.

He dropped to the ground and swept all the students off their feet with a single low kick. He ran to the machine, the students working around it scattering like frightened animals.

Shoto grabbed the giant spear and snapped it in two against his thigh without warning.

- How did he do that? one muttered, his eyes wide open. It was a metal-

Shoto brought the flat of his hand down on his neck, effectively sending his into the realm of dreams.

He was now in the midst of the largest number of students, and like any shinobi worth his salt, he pulverized them one by one.

His body was nothing more than the instrument he used to achieve his goals, his hands deadly weapons that sowed pain and chaos.

He whirled around, unleashing kicks that sounded the death knell and punches that shattered dreams.

Sometimes he would crouch down, his eyes scanning the area around him for a moment before springing back into action even faster than before.

The bodies piled up, the teenagers did not get up.

That was the difference between him and them.

Even with the promise of such delirious amount of money, none of them were a match for him.

Their gestures were awkward, their faces frightened - even though they were abnormally mediocre, Shoto was galvanized.

A huge smile warped his mask.

He was born for it, for the adrenaline of battle and the satisfaction of total, undisputed victory. He was the best, he knew it, and soon, the whole world would know it too.

- Todoroki, a tall blond boy shouted, pounding his fists together, electricity coursing across his skin. You and your $500,000 mask better stop-

Shoto's fist slammed into his stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs. The electricity vanished as his eyes rolled back into their sockets, saliva dripping from his mouth.

Shoto looked around, his eyes sweeping over the hesitant or simply frightened faces. Far too many of them were still standing, and if they scattered into the tunnel…

- I'll throw in a bonus of one million for whoever beats me here in the (he glanced at his stopwatch) last 8 minutes we have left.

The dark faces lit up, their misplaced confidence illuminating their features.

Shoto didn't understand them; they'd just seen him crush everyone in his path without breaking a sweat, but they still begged for more as soon as he mentioned a little bit of money.

They say Jesus walks, I say money talks.

They pounced on him, some even activating their Quirks. They were second-rate quirks, nothing grand like glowing fingers or skin that turned red - otherwise, they'd be the heroic students.

All of them were around Shoto, forming a tighter and tighter circle. Shoto let them approach until he could see no gaps between the bodies surrounding him.

It was slaughter of rare brutality.

The commas swirled lazily, but his movements were so fast that they seemed almost blurred at times.

He never wasted time looking at whom he was attacking, his gestures precise and calculated to the millimeter. He was unleashed, and nothing and no one could stop him until he was done.

Blow to the throat, foot in the stomach, head smashed to the ground, nose broken by a fist…

To him, they were all the same and there was no difference.

The crowd was rapidly thinning, the number of opponents dwindling at an alarming rate.

A young girl had frozen near the entrance, her mouth shaking and her hands clenched over her heart. There were the horrible sounds of breaking bones and the terrible screams he'd put an end to with a simple blow to the neck.

He moved so fast that sometimes she couldn't keep up: one minute he was holding a boy by the collar of his shirt, the next he was punching someone in the jaw.

But sometimes he seemed less conscientious, "not finishing" students, only to come back a few seconds later and get rid of them after they'd turned their backs on him, hoping to get away.

It was as if - she licked her dry lips - as if he wanted to offer them that glimmer of hope before crushing it. It was as if…

- He's... he's playing with us, she realized, her eyes widening in horror. From the beginning, we had no chance to win.

This guy, this Shoto Todoroki - he'd never intended to give the million to anyone.

If he'd offered it like that, it was because he was sure that no one would be able to win it. She turned her back on him and ran towards the tunnel entrance, her heart beating wildly.

If she could-

Her body collapsed like a bag as her fingers grazed the bright light.

A metal disk fell right next to her.

Shoto straightened up, his outstretched hand for the throw coming back close to his body.

He looked at his work, the bodies of the teenagers piled on top of each other in a hurry.

No one else was standing (or conscious) in this tunnel except him.

They hadn't been experienced fighters or formidable opponents, but they had been fun.

And for that, Shoto thanked them.

He took a deep breath and turned towards the entrance of the arena.

Now I've got a race to win.

Bonus 1 :

- It has already started, boss

Teka Todoroki took off her cloak and gave it to one of her subordinates to put it away. She sat down in the white leather chair in front of the television, her scrutinizing gaze never leaving her grandson's face for a second.

- Refreshments, boss ? one of her bodyguards offered.

She shook her head and he went to offer the drinks (albeit less politely) to Teka's other henchmen.

The living room, although very large and usually very empty, was now packed. An impressive number of Teka's henchmen were in the room, chatting in low voices without missing a beat of the conversation.

In fact, it was a handful of them who had asked er to organize this little movie session, under the pretext of wanting to see the future boss in action.

As for how they had found out that Shoto would be participating in the championship, well, let's just say that the Todoroki soldiers were capable of more than just protecting and killing.

Teka had agreed, believing that one day of procrastination would not have a negative effect on the Todoroki empire.

From her point of view, it was like a bonding session.

And if it made them all realize what a monster the next Don was going to be...

Someone whistled.

- Shoto-sama has a pair of - (He was elbowed in the ribs: he looked nervously at Teka and offered a contrite smile) a pair of courage.

Some laughed at the way he handled the situation.

- A pair of courage, that's right !, loudly laughed a tall bearded man while slapping his shoulder.

Bonus 2 :

- ... One million dollars for whoever beats me in the championship.

Endavor sighed, feeling another migraine coming.

-Shoto.…

*

Author's note :

Power stones goal : 250

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