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Begining of Chapter
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The Hero Public Safety Commission (HPSC) is more than just a government agency.
It is the pillar of control that ensures society's balance, its influence extending far beyond what the public perceives.
It is a monolithic entity with multiple branches, overseeing hero licensing, crisis management, intelligence operations, and even black ops enforcement.
Located in a sector of the city where villains dare not tread, the HPSC's headquarters stands as a fortress of order.
Unlike the towering, glass-paneled hero agencies scattered across Japan, the HPSC's architecture is built for defense, deterrence, and control, reinforced steel structures, multiple security layers, and no visible windows past the fifth floor.
It is not a place of admiration like U.A. or Endeavor's agency or even All Mights Agency.
It is a place of business, where decisions that shape the hero world are made.
Inside, the air is sterile, calculated, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of hero offices.
Here, the best agents in the country operate under strict discipline, handling covert operations, high-level intel, and hero oversight.
The HPSC is not just a regulatory body.
Rather it is the judge, jury, and, when necessary, executioner of the hero society's hidden war.
Unlike U.A. or other institutions dedicated to molding heroes, this place was different, it didn't produce heroes.
It controlled them.
This was the part of the city where villains didn't dare to tread.
It wasn't out of honor or respect, it was out of sheer survival instinct.
Every criminal, every would be anarchist knew that one wrong move within this sector would summon the near certain end of their careers.
To the public, the Hero Public Safety Commission was just another government agency.
To those within the system, it was something else entirely.
It was a machine, with gears made of blood and shadows.
And at its heart sat three figures.
The President, The King, and The Cursed Spirit of Fire.
Together, they ensured the world never saw the cracks beneath the surface...
Together, they ensured order.
And if maintaining that order meant using villains' methods, then so be it.
The Hero Public Safety Commission, or HPSC, was more than just an agency.
It was a force of control, a silent overseer that ensured the hero society never wavered.
The bustling city surrounding its headquarters was a thriving metropolis by day, but by night, it was eerily quiet.
No villain dared to step near the district where the HPSC reigned.
Not out of fear of the heroes, but because they knew, if they made a move, they would not get a trial.
They would not be sent to Tartarus.
They would simply disappear.
For criminals, the unspoken rule was clear.
Stay out of HPSC territory, or risk facing its executioners.
And of all its enforcers, none were more feared than the President's Right Hand, Ryomen Satoru.
Even among pro heroes, the name Ryomen Satoru was synonymous with terror.
He was once a hero himself, a rising star known for his overwhelming power and combat mastery.
But something changed.
Something made him walk away from the spotlight. When he reemerged, he had taken on a new role, the enforcer of the HPSC, the blade that cut down those who stepped out of line.
'I don't play hero. I don't play villain. I get the job done.'
Among villains, his name is a whisper of death.
Sukuna, the King of Air.
A title born from both fear and legend.
It was in his early days under the HPSC when the name truly stuck.
A high-profile villain organization had taken control of an underground sector, evading heroes for months.
The commission sent only one man to deal with the problem.
No one knew the details of what happened inside.
But when authorities entered hours later, there were mostly no survivors.
The bodies werent mutilated, just corpses collapsed in place, as if the air had been stolen from their lungs, their bodies having cuts along them by unseen blades.
And those who survived, the experience was so brutal to them, they all ran to the authorities who's arrived, believing prison sentence, forced Labour, anything, would be worth better then dealing with the King of Aie
From then on, villains began whispering the name Sukuna, fearing the man who commands the wind itself.
His Quirk, "Airial Amputation", allowed him to manipulate the air itself, creating devastating slashes and shockwaves that could tear through concrete and steel like paper.
He could crush lungs, snap necks, and reduce his enemies to shredded remains without ever lifting a blade.
To the criminals of the underworld, he was simply known by another name.
"Sukuna."
A whispered nightmare. A reminder that even in a world of heroes, there were monsters who enforced the law with no mercy.
Physically, Ryomen was a towering figure, standing over 6'4" with a body carved from battle.
His sharp, refined features carried an aura of dominance, his hair was short but unruly pinkish hair with black fades at the side.
He had sharp crimson red eyes that could freeze a man in place, and a scar that ran diagonally from his left cheekbone to his jawline, a remnant of a battle long forgotten.
His attire was deceptively simple.
A high-collared black coat, gloves, and reinforced boots. The only sign of his past hero status was the red insignia stitched into his shoulder, a mark of his former agency, now long abandoned.
And yet, for all his ruthlessness, Ryomen was not reckless.
His brutality had purpose, and his loyalty was not blind.
He had seen the cracks in the hero system, and rather than fight against them, he had chosen to become the necessary evil that held it together.
But yet.. every leader has two hands.
So if Ryomen was the right hand and the HPSC's blade, then the Left Hand was the unseen fire that burned from the shadows.
His real name was unknown to most. Few had ever seen his true face, for his mutant-emmiter hybrid Quirk had permanently altered his appearance.
'When he moves, it's like the ground itself burns beneath his feet.'
His body had adapted, mainly towards his quirk, which gave him the appeance thay inspired the nick-name "Cursed Spirit".
His skin was darkened and hardened like volcanic rock, with veins that pulsed with molten fire.
Glowing bright Ember eyes, and ironically wearing a scarf.
That's all anyone knew, and even then people doubted it was true.
His eyes were like burning embers, flickering with hidden depths.
Unlike Ryomen, he did not seek battle.
He did not need to. His strength lay in patience, in waiting for the right moment to strike.
He was a tactician, the mind that calculated every move before a war began.
While Ryomen executed orders, the Left Hand ensured those orders were worth executing.
His nickname, "The Cursed Spirit of Fire," came from his terrifying presence on the battlefield.
Those who saw him assumed he was some kind of hellish being, a force of nature disguised in human form.
Despite his power, he remained a mystery.
Where Ryomen was a legend among villains, the Left Hand was a ghost, rarely every seen outside the HPSC, with only the President knew his full story, and she never spoke of it.
The President – The Queen of Order
No one knew the President's real name.
There were no public records of her past, no childhood friends who spoke of her, no family who claimed her.
She was an enigma, the embodiment of power within the HPSC, and the one who held absolute authority over the heroes and the system they served.
She was not a hero, nor was she a fighter.
She didn't need to be.
Her mind was her greatest weapon.
Strategic, authoritative, and endlessly calculating.
'Heroes protect society. I protect the heroes and society.'
Her presence was commanding, her gaze sharp and unyielding.
No one knew her Quirk, and those who asked too many questions did not ask again.
To the world, she was a simple bureaucrat.
To those who truly understood power, she was a queen.
Where Ryomen was feared for his brutal efficiency, and the Left Hand for his mysterious presence, the President was respected.
Even heroes who disagreed with her methods did not question her.
Because at the end of the day, she was the reason hero society remained intact.
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Currently at the HPSC building
The reinforced walls hummed with the force of his movements.
Ryomen was practising combat training, even though he is currently nearly the best combatant in the entire building, he was always wanting the thrill of a fight.
Ryomen moved with precise brutality, each strike against the weighted training dummies sending shockwaves through the room.
Each fist was hit with the intent to brutally incapacitated the target.
Before he jumped back.
His face and arms were shining from the sweat on him, hair was a mess with some lose stands sticking to his forehead
He stood still, regulating his breathing
As he exhaled, the air around his fists twisted unnaturally, a faint white haze forming as it warped under his control.
He put his hand forward in a finger gun manner
"Dis-"
Just as he prepared to unleash one of the abilities of his quirk, his earpiece crackled to life.
"Ryomen, get your ass up here, madam president would like to have a word."
Ryomen's expression darkened.
Annoyance flickered through his crimson eyes before he exhaled sharply, dissipating the energy around his hand and pinching his nose ridge and let out a deep sigh.
'Damn timing.. this better be worth it.. I swear if that bastard lying about this..'
He wiped his hands off on a towel, rolling his shoulders before making his way to the top floor.
Whatever it was, it had to be important, at least important enough she had to talk to him directly, right?
The President rarely summoned him unless it was a matter worth his attention.
The doors to the President's office slid open with a quiet hiss.
The room was dimly lit, the only source of natural light coming from the massive floor to ceiling window that overlooked the city.
Sitting behind a minimalist, obsidian desk was the President of the Hero Public Safety Commission, an imposing woman with sharp, piercing eyes and a presence that could freeze lesser men in place.
Her stone cold demeanor was unreadable, her fingers steepled as she regarded Ryomen with an impassive gaze.
She seemed to be signing some documents. A few stacked od paper under the paper weight which was the nameplate on her desk
'Madam President Reinka Kamizono'
It said, engraved into the metal.
Ryomen strode forward, his steps slow, deliberate. He did not bow, nor did he offer any pleasantries.
He simply lowered himself into the chair across from her, his crimson eyes unblinking as he met her gaze.
"Turn the AC up, feels like I'm burning"
There was no reply from the President as she simply carried with what she called him there for.
"I've been hearing concerning reports," the President began, her voice level, emotionless. "Specifically, calls made to U.A. by one of our top enforcers."
Ryomen leaned back, the chair creaking slightly under his weight.
"I needed information on a particular student."
The President's expression remained neutral, though there was a slight shift in her posture as she leaned forward, placing her elbows on the desk.
"Who?"
She rose from her seat, moving towards the window, hands clasped behind her back as she gazed out over the city.
The silence stretched for a few moments before Ryomen answered.
"Gojo Satoru."
A flicker of amusement crossed the President's face, barely noticeable but present.
"Interesting."
She turned her head slightly, her gaze sharp. "The son of Ryomen.. how interesting.. which one is this, the blue eyes boy?"
"Of course," Ryomen replied evenly.
"And why does he interest you?"
Ryomen's gaze remained steady. "I want to see how much better he's become."
A chuckle came from the shadows of the room, deep and laced with a condescending amusement.
"You've never been much of a family man. I'm assuming that's your firstborn, the one in your brothers care. I should visit Koun sometime."
Ryomen exhaled through his nose, eyes narrowing.
He hadn't noticed his presence at first, but now the voice was a dead giveaway, especially after realising that the heat in the room was due to him.
Leaning against the far wall, partially shrouded in darkness, stood a figure clad in black and crimson. The cursed spirit of fire.
Jogo Renjiro
The Left Hand of the President.
Renjiro smirked, barely visible yet Ryomen could almost see the smirk on his face.
"What's this? A sudden fatherly curiosity? Doesn't suit you, Ryomen."
Ryomen turned his gaze back to the President, ignoring the bait.
"Maybe it was cruel even for me to blame a useless child. I've decided I want to see how much he has grown."
His voice was devoid of emotion, but there was an edge to it, a challenge directed more at himself than anyone else.
"And what do you expect to find?" the President asked, her voice measured.
"That he is still weak," Ryomen answered simply.
The President turned fully now, her calculating gaze locked onto him. "Then why bother at all?"
Ryomen smirked faintly. "Because he has more potential than most rising rookies."
A single brow arched on the President's face, her amusement growing, though she did not voice it.
She merely observed, absorbing the implications of Ryomen's interest in Gojo Satoru.
Renjiro chuckled again, the embers at his fingertips flaring slightly. "Now that is interesting. What's the kids quirk.. wait hang on his name backwards is m-"
"Shut up."
Ryomen and the President said in sync.
"Ryomen, what is his quirk." The President asked, a hint of curiosity laced in her tone
"...The straigh answer, I have no damn clue. The testa we did years back didn't really give anything to say what quirk it is. And from the looks of it, his got a few abilities up his sleeve."
Ryomen answered honestly.
He truly didn't know what the quirk was, in fact he doubted Gojo even know whay the quirk really was, and barely cared about anything else but his he's grown in strength.
"Wow, must be some crazy quirk right?" Jogo laughed, as it went from laughing to coughing.
Ryomen rolled his eyes and replied.
"I see alot of possible potential, and from what I've seen from the U.A. entrance exams, it's not that bad, but nothing too crazy."
The President nodded to this before looking back at the window, as if enjoying the veiw.
As the conversation reached its natural conclusion, Ryomen Sukuna stood from his seat, offering a small, amused smirk before exiting the room.
Rhe air in the office remained heavy, charged with the weight of unspoken thoughts.
Jogo let out a chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back in his seat. "It's rare for him to give anyone a compliment," he mused.
"I wonder of how much of his father is in him. Or how much he hates his father."
The President exhaled softly, the faintest ghost of a smirk curling her lips before she turned back to face him fully. "And if he is like his father?"
Jogo tilted his head slightly, leaning forward.
The light finally hit his face, black cracks over his face, the near black rough texture of his skin and those ember like eyes, gleaming under the dim office light. "Then I suppose we'll have to decide whether to nurture him… or remove him."
Reinka Kamizono looked at the window in silence.
"You have always been pragmatic, Jogo," she said at last, returning to her seat and lacing her fingers together.
"But Gojo Satoru is not just another student at U.A. He is the heir to an anomaly—one that we failed to control once before."
"Then perhaps it's time we learned from our mistakes," Jogo replied coolly.
"If he is like his father, we mold him into something useful. If he refuses.. Well, no idea"
The President let out a soft chuckle.
She reached for a pen, tapping it once against the desk before returning her gaze to him.
"Very well. Keep a watchful eye on the boy. But do not act recklessly. If Gojo Satoru is anything like his father, he will not be easily swayed…."
"But saying someone has potential? That must mean this kid is really something special. His standards are... well, let's just say, insane."
"Perhaps," she admitted, a note of intrigue slipping into her tone as she went to sit down.
"Potential alone isn't enough to impress me. But in this case... I want to know more."
A brief silence settled between them before she straightened her posture.
"Get me on a call with Nezu," she instructed. "I want to hear about this firsthand."
Jogo simply nodded, recognizing the weight of her interest.
Without another word, he reached for the phone.
As the call connected, the tone ringing before it went to voicemail, he paused.
"Also can we acknowledge the fact his name is mine, just backwards?"
"Jogo, I couldn't care less about who's name is who's.. and somehow you made me care less"
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Meanwhile, at U.A., the Quirk Assessment Test was already underway.
Nezu stood alongside All Might, observing from a Nezus office though the windows as the students underwent Aizawa's infamous physical evaluations.
The principal's keen eyes were focused on one student in particular.
"Interesting, isn't he?" Nezu mused, his voice carrying a note of amusement.
All Might, standing with his arms crossed, nodded. "He seems.. rather intriguing.. must say it was surprising to see him beat my old record." He chuckled afterwards.
Before focusing on his own champion, a green haired boy standing behind the class.
Just as he was about to speak about said boy, Nezu spoke over him.
"I wonder how how is, from the looks of it, carefree.. Wonder how he'll do on this test of Aizawa, and how their personalities will collide"
Nezu chuckled. Invested into what this boy could do.
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End of Chapter
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Glad to be back, and will be producing chapters now
Any thoughts or expectations on class 1A for the Quirk Assessment Test next chap?