[Yamato Image]
[Uzuki Image]
__________________________________________
Confusion was evident on the guards' faces. Wide eyes, tense breaths, the frantic sound of alarms echoing through the prison's metallic corridors.
"What?! How did he do that?!" one of the guards exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief.
In front of them, prisoner 15278—Uzuki—stood motionless at the threshold of his newly opened cell, holding an elegant katana. The black blade reflected the intermittent red light of the emergency alerts.
"Activate the defenses!"
Instantly, Tartarus Prison reacted.
The doors slammed shut with a metallic clang, sealing off entire sections of the fortress. The massive concrete walls reinforced themselves with additional armor, while rows of security robots awakened from their dormant state, their optics glowing with a menacing red light. Amid the growing chaos, heroes assigned to internal security took their positions, ready to intervene.
And yet, at the center of it all, Uzuki remained still. His gaze was hazy, unfocused, and his lips moved in a continuous whisper, uttering indistinguishable words.
'What's happening?! I can't move!'
Panic swelled within his mind, but his body refused to respond. He tried to force a movement, anything, but his very existence felt trapped inside a prison within himself.
Then, the System screen appeared once more, shining before his vision like a beacon in the middle of a storm.
==========================
|[Master Swordsman] (Sakamoto Days)||Rarity: Epic||Type: Trait|
A skill that grants you the same swordsmanship techniques as Takamura from Sakamoto Days. Your Iaijutsu techniques are now at an unparalleled level.
Hidden Effect: Relentless Killing Machine.
Restrictions:
A sword is required to activate this Trait.
If the user is weak-minded and clouded, an automatic combat mode is activated, fulfilling the user's main objective for its deactivation. However, if the sword is removed, the mode is deactivated within 1 minute.
In Automatic Mode, it is impossible to use any powers or skills.
==========================
Uzuki sighed mentally. 'Great. Now I'm a puppet.'
Despite the fog in his mind, he could still feel everything—the biting cold of the sword's metal in his hand, the scent of oil and metal from the robots activating their motors, the electric tension in the air as the heroes prepared for battle. He saw everything through his own eyes, yet he couldn't move a single muscle on his own.
His body no longer belonged to him.
A metallic noise echoed through the corridors.
Footsteps.
They were getting closer. Guards. Heroes. Machines.
But Uzuki didn't move. His body didn't even react. He simply stood at the entrance of the cell like a statue, the hilt of Yamato firmly in his hand.
The silence stretched for a tense second.
'Huh… I'm not moving? Maybe… it's because there's no clear objective.'
'Well, I want to get out of Tartarus and hide.'
==========================
Recognized objective. Moving body.
==========================
And then, he moved.
Fluid, calculated, without hesitation. His body advanced unhurriedly, firm steps echoing against the metallic floor of the prison. The Yamato was slightly raised—not rushed, but with the precision of a predator prepared for the kill.
The cell door swung open.
Guards were already there, weapons aimed directly at him.
"Stop right there!"
But Uzuki... did not stop.
Time seemed to slow the moment the guard pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The gunshot echoed through the metallic corridors of the prison, a warning bullet speeding toward Uzuki, meant to stop him before he could take another step. But before the bullet could even fulfill its purpose—
Ding!
The sound of metal striking metal rang out, strangely delicate, almost musical.
A moment later, a silver flash streaked through the corridor, too fast for human eyes to perceive. It was not a mere blur, nor just an exhibition of speed. No. What had happened was something almost divine—an instant where space itself seemed to be cut along with everything around it.
Like a formless ghost, an ethereal shadow glided through the corridor—weightless, soundless, leaving nothing but a deep void and a silver gleam reflecting the very sky.
The guards barely had time to react.
"Huh?"
That was the only thing one of them managed to utter before his body froze in place. He felt something strange—a lightness, as if something essential had been removed from his very existence.
And then...
Clean lines began to appear throughout the entire corridor.
Every surface, every wall, every cell, every guard, and armored robot... All were marked by invisible cuts, so precise that even the air itself seemed to hesitate before recognizing the reality of the destruction.
And at the center of it all, Uzuki was no longer there.
He was already standing before the elevator, his cold gaze fixed on the control panel. The moment the blade of the Yamato smoothly slid back into its sheath—
Shing!
The action sealed the fate of all those affected.
The cell doors along the corridor were sliced with immaculate precision, sliding to the ground with a terrifying silence. Guards and robots that had been struck began to fall apart, their bodies fragmented by cuts so smooth they hadn't even felt death approaching.
Criminals and villains peeked out from their cells.
Their wide eyes reflected pure astonishment.
"We... are free?" one of them murmured, as if unable to believe what he was seeing.
"Is he... is he setting us free?" another asked, stunned.
But there was no response. Uzuki didn't stop, didn't look back. He simply raised Yamato once more.
Shing!
With a single slash, the elevator itself was split in half, along with its doors.
The cables snapped, and pieces of the structure began to collapse. But before any of them could fall on him, Uzuki had already leaped, propelling himself off the elevator shaft walls with surreal agility, climbing as if gravity were an irrelevant concept.
And behind him, true chaos unfolded.
The villains and criminals who had been freed did not hesitate.
"Let's go!"
"Follow him!"
They all started running, climbing up the elevator shaft amid the turmoil. And then came the true twist of fate:
Uzuki's slashes hadn't just freed the prisoners. They had spread throughout the entire floor.
That included...
The Quirk Suppressors.
One by one, the devices exploded in sparks and debris, disabling the technology that kept the inmates' powers sealed.
Hell had just been unleashed inside Tartarus.
...
"Stop the villains from escaping!"
The shout echoed through the prison corridors, but it was too late.
Slash!
With a single cut, another floor was freed.
The alarms blared frantically, red lights flashing throughout the complex as prisoners and villains rushed through the newly opened corridors. The guards struggled to contain the uprising, but there was no stopping that unstoppable force ascending the floors like a storm of destruction.
"He's still going up!"
Slash!
Another floor fell before the silver blade.
Uzuki's advance was relentless, silent, lethal. Every movement was like a specter dancing between light and shadow, his strikes so fast that human eyes couldn't even follow.
Floor after floor, the maximum-security prison Tartarus crumbled under the tide of chaos.
The chief warden, watching everything from the control room, clenched his teeth in frustration. Sweat dripped down his forehead as his eyes remained fixed on the monitors, where the destruction unfolded before him.
"Stop him!" he ordered, his voice filled with desperation.
But then…
"He… he's already reached the surface."
Ding!
Boom!
The elevator doors exploded, sending flames and debris flying across the area. The building's structure trembled, cracks spreading through the walls, and the air filled with dust and smoke.
From the burning wreckage, a figure slowly emerged.
Tattered orange prison clothes, torn from the battle.
Bare feet stepping over the rubble.
Messy blonde hair falling over his face.
Clouded, whitish-blue eyes—empty, unreachable.
And in his hands, the blade of Yamato gleamed, reflecting the flames around him.
Uzuki lifted his gaze to the horizon. His vision was blocked by the towering security robots now emerging between the buildings—mechanical sentinels that overshadowed the landscape like colossal guardians.
Bang!
The hail of bullets began.
The robots' machine guns spat out projectiles in a storm of destruction. The sky filled with lethal ammunition, but Uzuki moved before the first impact could reach him.
His body slid between the gunfire with inhuman precision, his reflexes flawless, as if every bullet were in slow motion before his eyes.
And then, he ran.
His silhouette weaved through the line of fire, bullets ricocheting around him as he surged toward the robots like an unstoppable storm.
With an agile leap, Uzuki propelled himself into the air, hovering for a brief moment before the pale moon.
His fingers touched the hilt of Yamato.
Ding!
A single slash.
The nearest robot was cleaved in half in an instant, as if reality itself had been split. Before the others could react, their heads were severed in clean cuts, their mechanical bodies wavering before collapsing into successive explosions.
The wardens watching the scene stood frozen.
In disbelief.
"This... this isn't human..." one of them murmured, their voice faltering.
"Is it a god?" another questioned, almost breathless.
"No... This is a demon."
On the monitors, Uzuki's figure hovered over the smoldering wreckage, his silhouette outlined against the glow of the explosions. Not a single scratch. No hesitation. Only his cloudy eyes shining in the darkness, while his face was partially obscured by the shadows of his own hair.
Meanwhile, underground, chaos was unfolding.
The villains and criminals who had been set free were running in a frenzy, trying to reach the exit. But there was still an obstacle in their way—the prison guards and heroes stationed at the gates.
They were ready to stop any escape.
But then...
A shadow passed by them.
It wasn't an attack. It wasn't a strike. It was just... an invisible cutting thread, subtle as a promise of death, accompanied by a murderous presence so intense that even the strongest hesitated.
That was enough.
Ding!
The massive prison gate, made of an unbreakable metal alloy, formed a perfect "X" before splitting in half.
"We're free!"
"Let's go!"
The cries of euphoria mixed with the sound of broken chains and hurried footsteps. The villains scattered into the night like a swarm of ravenous shadows.
But among them, one figure stood out.
She had short, messy hair of a deep indigo hue, streaked with pink lines. Her sharp gaze swept over the chaotic scene, then locked onto Uzuki.
Without hesitation, she ran toward him.
Uzuki, still trapped in his semi-conscious state, heard the approaching footsteps. But he did not move. His body only reacted to hostility, and that presence did not seem threatening.
When the woman reached Uzuki, she grabbed his arm firmly.
"Come on, the heroes could arrive at any moment!"
She started running, pulling him along.
Uzuki, however, simply followed at his own pace, his posture relaxed and his expression unchanged, as if the world around him were nothing more than a distant blur.
The woman threw him inside a prison vehicle before getting into the driver's seat and hot-wiring it.
She stepped on the gas and took off while several villains ran in different directions, the two of them heading elsewhere.
Uzuki blacked out shortly after the automatic mode was deactivated with the completion of the objective.
...
It was dawn.
The night wrapped the city in a silent shroud, with only the distant sound of alarms and sirens echoing on the horizon. Far from the chaos of the escape, an abandoned car served as an improvised shelter.
Inside it, Uzuki awoke.
His vacant gaze swept over the vehicle's interior before settling on Yamato, still in his hand. With a light sigh, he dismissed his summoning, and the blade vanished like mist in the wind.
"Who is that woman?" he muttered to himself, recalling recent events.
His muscles protested as he moved, so he adjusted himself in the back seat, stretching to relieve the accumulated tension. The metallic scent of blood still clung to his clothes, a reminder of the battle he had fought.
He waited.
Minutes passed until the car door opened, revealing the woman who had brought him there.
Kaina Tsutsumi.
"Oh, you're awake. That's good. Here."
She tossed a set of clothes at him without ceremony. Uzuki caught them and let a subtle smile form on his lips.
Without hesitation, he removed the orange prison shirt, exposing his defined, muscular torso, the marks of battle still visible on his skin.
Kaina, who had maintained a relaxed posture until then, instinctively averted her gaze, a faint blush tinting her cheeks.
When Uzuki reached for his pants to continue changing, she turned her face away completely, crossing her arms as she feigned interest in the emptiness of the night.
A few seconds later, Uzuki stepped out of the car, tossing his prison clothes far away as if shedding a burden.
His new look was discreet.
A hooded shirt layered under a leather jacket, jeans, and high-top sneakers in black, red, and white.
He ran his fingers through his messy blond hair and then turned to Kaina, who was already settled in the driver's seat.
"How thoughtful of you. You just grabbed whatever from the store and ran?"
Kaina sighed, leaning back against the steering wheel.
"Give me a break."
Silence hung in the air for a few moments.
"Hah. Sorry, it's been a while since I've interacted with anyone... Especially with a woman like you."
The teasing came with a half-smile, laden with natural charm.
Kaina blushed slightly, surprised by the unexpected comment.
"I appreciate the compliment, but I am—"
"Stop right there."
Uzuki's voice cut hers without hesitation. His tone was calm yet cold, as if he already knew exactly what was about to come next.
"I'm not interested in hearing things like 'I'm an assassin' or 'I'm older than you.' Those phrases are unnecessary."
He settled into the passenger seat, crossing his arms and closing his eyes for a moment.
"Well... Before we take any action, my name is Kei Uzuki."
Kaina stayed silent, observing him. There was something enigmatic in the way he spoke—like he didn't care about her past, only about what was to come.
After a few seconds, she exhaled slowly and responded:
"Kaina Tsutsumi."
Later, they left the city behind. There were two reasons for this.
The first was obvious: the city was still too close to the prison. Even though the fugitives had scattered in various directions, making it harder for the authorities, the heroes, and the police, there was no doubt they would start the search in the surrounding areas. Getting caught now, right after such a spectacular escape, would be sheer stupidity.
The second reason was more strategic. Uzuki knew that his escape would not go unnoticed. He had freed a legion of criminals from Japan's largest prison using only a sword—a blessed blade, which now carried a symbolic weight he hadn't even anticipated. This wasn't just an escape. It was an act that would shake the established order. Someone would take notice, and sooner or later, they would come after him.
But for now, his thoughts were focused on something else.
His powers.
He hadn't tested anything beyond his basic trait. Kaina was always around, and the constant fleeing prevented any opportunity to explore his abilities. Uzuki felt the need to understand his own capabilities, but the cat-and-mouse game they were trapped in made it difficult. He needed more freedom. He needed space to act without interruptions.
"Mmm..."
Uzuki hummed absentmindedly as he drove, his fingers lightly tapping on the steering wheel. In the back seat, Kaina was sleeping soundly, her breathing steady and calm.
Thanks to the system, he had gathered valuable information about this world. The existence of powers, the absurd level of influence that heroes had, the technological advancements that surpassed anything he had ever seen before… But above all, he realized that the corruption of this place wasn't much different from what he knew. Perhaps it was even worse.
'I'll be the villain inevitably...'
The thought didn't curse him. It only irritated him.
In his previous world, Uzuki had already been an assassin, a tool in the hands of others, killing without question, carrying out orders without hesitation. Now, here, he was considered a villain simply because his existence challenged the system. Even if he wanted to take a different path, the Curse of the Manipulator would ensure that his steps were always distorted, that his image was always that of an enemy.
This could be a problem.
Or perhaps… a much greater opportunity than he had imagined.
...
The early morning was overtaken by chaos. Silence was replaced by sirens echoing through the city, searchlights scanning the alleyways, helicopters cutting through the skies like predators hunting their prey. Japan had been struck by something unprecedented: the country's largest prison was in ruins, and its most dangerous criminals were free.
The news outlets exploded with alarming headlines:
"Tartarus Maximum Prison Reduced to Rubble—Who Is Behind This?"
"Hundreds of Criminals Released! Is Japan Facing a New Era of Terror?"
"Heroes Powerless Against the Collapse!"
The footage broadcasted the same shocking scene over and over. From the flaming rubble of the prison, a silhouette emerged. Torn orange clothes, bare feet touching the still-warm asphalt of the destruction, blonde hair swaying under the moonlight, and in their hands, a silver blade gleaming with an almost celestial purity.
Journalists struggled to interpret the scene. Who was that man? A leader? A terrorist? A demon?
But the answer was delivered to them by the very decaying structure of society. Manipulation had begun to take hold.
...
The truth was that Uzuki didn't have a grand plan. He didn't want to be the leader of anything. He simply escaped. But when something so grand happens, the masses don't accept coincidence. They need a story. They need an archetype.
And the narrative was built without him lifting a single finger.
In the underworld…
The villains and criminals who were freed weren't just running to hide. Many had connections in organized crime. Others had been leaders before being captured. And those who were just pawns needed a new boss.
In the alleys and hideouts, a new legend was born:
"It was planned from the start."
"That man with blonde hair... he freed us because he needed an army."
"No hero was able to touch him. He walked through the bullets and cut robots like paper."
"If he wants, he can dominate the country."
In less than twenty-four hours, the criminals began to organize. Small groups formed. Smaller gangs sought protection in larger factions. Cartels and crime syndicates started discussing strategies. The underworld was boiling.
And all eyes were on him.
In the world of heroes and authorities…
The National Security Council was urgently called. No hero slept that night. The greatest breakout in history had occurred, and those responsible had no idea how to deal with it.
On the screen in the meeting room, the massacre videos were shown on repeat.
Armored guards falling apart before they even realized they had been cut.
Quirk containment cells shattered as if they were made of glass.
The prison gate opened with a simple cut, freeing hundreds of criminals.
And at the center of all this… that man.
"We've identified the responsible. Kei Uzuki. No records before his arrest. No known affiliations. He appears to be a highly trained soldier, but without a military background."
"A soldier? This is no human. No human can cut steel like that!"
"He's a villain."
"No, he's a terrorist!"
"He's a national-level threat. If he's not stopped, Japan could collapse."
The decision was unanimous: Kei Uzuki was declared Public Enemy Number One.
The Hero Public Safety Commission announced a global manhunt. Every bounty hunter, every glory-hungry vigilante, every police officer, and government agent was given a single objective: find and eliminate Uzuki.
...
While all of this was happening, Uzuki was driving calmly away from the city. He didn't know the chaos his escape had caused. He didn't know that, while he hummed at the wheel, villains were raising his name as a symbol of revolution. He didn't know that, while Kaina slept in the back seat, the greatest heroes of Japan were gathering to hunt him down.
He was just driving.
Looking at the road ahead, Uzuki felt a slight irritation growing inside him.
He never wanted this. He never wanted to lead anyone. He never wanted to be a villain.
But the world had already decided that for him.
He had no choice.
The Curse of the Manipulator had shaped his destiny.
He was the monster that society needed to fear.
Even though he had never wished to be.