Dante walked around, his hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, his breath was visible in the cold night air. He didn't know where he was walking, he was just wandering around with no real destination, just away from his first rooftop, away from anywhere that could cause him trouble. The city felt bigger at night, way quieter but definitely not safer. The usual croud of salarymen and students had thinned out, replaced by a different kind of people. People like Dante.
He passed by a group of homeless people grouped around a barrel fire, their quiet murmurs blended with the crackling from the flames. A few alleys further, a woman in a torn dress was sitting defeated against a wall with dried tears down her face. But Dante continued.
"I'm not staying on the streets." Not unless he wanted a knife in his back or a his bag stolen at the second he dozed off.
He needed somewhere out of the way, a place where no one would look. An abandoned building? Hell no, those are way too unpredictable, there could be squatters, addicts, maybe even a few villains. He wasn't about to walk into some gangs hideout by accident.
Another rooftop? No. He was tired of those.
A park?
His eyes scanned the streets as he kept moving, and finally, he saw it—a small, fenced off park nestled between apartment buildings. The entrance was chained off but that was okay. Dante slid into a side alley, climbed onto a nearby dumpster and hopped up over the fence with ease. There were no lights, no cameras and thankfully no people.
"Ideal…"
The playground itself was small, just a rusted jungle gym, a broken seesaw and a tall metal slide in the corner. But the equipment didn't matter, it was the space underneath it.
Dante slowly walked over and crouched down. "Great." The hollow beneath the slide was just big enough for him to climb into, with dirt ground that was dry and there was metal above him to block the wind. He checked for glass, needles or anything that could make his unfortunate situation even worse. No, nothing.
He dropped his bag on the floor and sat down next to it, pulling out a rice ball. He ate it in silence, staring up at the night sky through the gaps in the metal, he looked down at his hand that had been shifting between sphere, cube and prism in his pocket all day. His control over sludge without hardening was getting better. "Not bad, this could be worse after all."
Now he had food and a safer place. That was good enough for now.
Next, Dante unwrapped his last protein bar, taking slow and deliberate bites as he leaned against the cold metal of the slide. Now that he had somewhere to return to and somewhere to rest, he could rest. But rest was not what he needed right now.
"I should probably get some genuine fighting experience… not against kids or hobos."
Practicing alone was one thing, but absolutely not enough. He needed to see if his new martial art actually worked, not just in his imagination but in real combat with people that would actually fight back, not trees.
Finishing up the protein bar and filling up his energy beyond what he would be needing, he stood and began warming up. His muscles were still somewhat tight but pain meant progress. He left his bag under the slide since it would probably just hold him down and leapt over the fence again, landing softly on the pavement. Now all he needed was to find the right kinda people.
Well he already knew where to go.
A few blocks away, down a backstreet filled with bars and clubs, he found them. The typical lowlife thugs, the type to pick fights for fun. A trio stood near a convenience store laughing loudly, already kinda tipsy. Their eyes lingered way too long on anyone passing by, their posture loose but predatory.
"Perfect!"
Dante walked past them, making sure to bump shoulders with one of them just enough to draw attention.
"Hey, you little sh—"
Dante turned just enough to meet their eyes, then he smirked and stuck his tongue out at them and kept walking.
'Yeah… Come on, take the bait. I don't wanna throw the first punch.'
"Oi! You deaf, brat?" The biggest of them, a broad shouldered guy in a dirty jacket stomped forward. His two friends followed, cracking their knuckles. Drunk, sloppy and predictable.
Dante walked down an alley, then stopped right in the middle and turned to face them, half of his face covered by his hood. His heart was steady, his breathing was calm and he was ready. "Time to test it out, I guess."
The big guy lunged first, throwing a wild hook. "Jesus, way too slow… should I have picked stronger guys?" Dante ducked under it, stepping in close before diving his knee straight into the guy's gut. The moment his opponent fell over, Dante quickly grabbed his head and slammed it down onto his own rising knee—Just like had written down.
The man fell face first to the floor.
The second guy hesitated but still ran at him, aiming a sloppy punch at Dante's face. "Seriously?"
Dante's hand shot up, this time, he didn't block. His fingers melted, followed by his hand, stretching forward and wrapping around the man's wrist before solidifying again. The thugs eyes widened in fear but before he could even react, Dante pulled him forward and dove a hardened elbow into his jaw. A moment later, he swept his leg out from under him, letting him fall down onto the pavement.
"Two down already?"
The last guy turned and tried to run. "Not gonna happen bud." Dante's free hand shifted into sludge, stretching unnaturally before snapping forward, grabbing the man's ankle. Dante yanked hard, sending the thug crashing face first into the ground. He then retracted his arm, dragging the thug across the floor over to Dante followed by a fast stomp to the ribs that would ensure he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.
Dante took a deep breath. His shifted hands trembled slightly before they shifted back to normal, the lingering sensation of stretching without his arms immediately flying back to him was still strange, but the "fight" was over.
And well, he'd won.
Dante crouched down, rifling through their pockets. Wallets, cash, loose change. He took everything that wasn't nailed down and shoved it into his pockets. He even snagged a full pack of cigarettes.
Not for him of course, but in case they could be traded off for something more useful, like more money.
Standing up, he looked down at the pathetic trio groaning and shaking on the ground.
"That was pretty easy, could've gone better though." His movements had been slightly off, not as smooth as they should've been. "I put too much force in some strikes, not enough in others… I need to find a way to gauge my opponents strengths and adjust my strength accordingly." His quirk could also use some refining, the sludge grab was useful but it was also very slow and he also wanted to be able to use the sludge to create new limbs or even something completely foreign, like growing another set of arms beneath his own, tendrils coming from his back or even using the sludge to create wings. Every human had the innate desire to fly after all, even Dante. He needed to train more, the possibilities were endless.
Still though, for a first test?
"Not done yet though, I still haven't even fought against anyone strong, like someone with a physical quirk or something."
Right as Dante was about to leave to go pick a fight with someone else, he heard a voice call out from behind.
"Well, well… Did you do all this?"
Dante turned, already on edge. The man standing there was different from these thugs, he was lean, but clearly strong, with a stance that even Dante couldn't find any openings in. His whole vibe was screaming that he was an experienced fighter. His hands were wrapped in weathered tape, his clothes were rough but clean and his sharp eyes were scanning Dante with something between amusement and curiosity.
Dante didn't answer.
The guy chuckled, stepping closer. "Not a talker eh? I could've sworn I heard you talking down to those guys down there." His gaze flicked down to the three groaning bodies. "These guys are clearly trash at fighting, either way… You took them all out on your own? A kid?"
Dante tilted his head but nodded. 'Something about this guy definitely feels off… He feels dangerous.'
The man looked away and mumbled, "Good. Let's see what else you've got."
Dante squinted his eyes, not quite understanding what the man said.
That's when he moved. Fast.
Dante barely had time to react before a fist was flying straight for his face. Dante's head twisted unnaturally, narrowly avoiding the strike. But the wind pressure alone sent a sharp sting across his cheek. Before Dante could counter. The mans other hand shot forward, slamming straight into his ribs like a hammer.
Dante staggered back, his eyes wide. "Shit, I actually felt that."
"Talking now yeah?" The guy didn't let up. He dashed again, his movements tight, controlled, efficient. Nothing wasted. Dante narrowly blocked the next his with his forearm, only to feel a sudden impact on his thigh—a sharp, brutal kick meant to deaden his leg.
Dante jumped back, butting distance between them. His heart pounded.
'This guy is different… he can actually fight.'
Dante exhaled sharply, taking off his hoodie and setting it aside, revealing a dirty grey tshirt.
"Fine." Dante muttered while cracking his neck, 'Let's stop holding back.'
Dante rushed in this time, aiming a quick jab to test the guys defense. Blocked. The man deflected it effortlessly, but Dante expected that, his other hand had already morphed into sludge, flowing unnaturally to wrap around the man's arm.
'Gotcha.'
Before Dante could yank him forward, the man twisted fast, breaking free from Dante's grip like it was nothing. But Dante didn't give him time to recover, his foot shot up, aiming for the guys ribs.
'Blocked again?!'
Then came his counterattack. Brutal. Precise.
A knee slammed into Dante's stomach, forcing the air from his lungs. He gasped but didn't let himself fall. Instead, he let his instincts take over.
Dante swayed while walking towards the guy, when close enough Dante transformed his entire right leg into sludge, letting it go limp. The moment the guy tried to sweep Dante off his feet, Dante solidified his leg and used the momentum to launch a twisting kick to the guys jaw.
The man ducked this time.
Dante's eyes burned with adrenaline, the strange pattern in his eyes seemed to be glowing so bright you could actually see his eyes even in the dark.
'That's right. Keep underestimating me…'
Dante went back onto the offensive again, mixing the Krav Maga strikes he had learnt with the raw power from Muay Thai. He threw elbows that had been hardened, knees, feints and quick grapples. But the guy countered every move, slipping past Dante's defences like a shadow. It was like fighting someone who had already seen every move Dante was going to make.
Dante gritted his teeth. 'If that's the case… I'll do something he cannot predict.'
He leaped backwards and for the first time, he used his quirk like never before. He didn't even know if this would work.
Both arms melted, twisting and stretching outward. One flew towards the guys legs to trap him while the other snapped forwards like a whip aimed straight for his face.
It nearly worked.
Nearly.
The man twisted midair, narrowly dodging the attempt at grabbing his legs while deflecting the sludge whip with his forearm. He still got grazed though, Dante even saw the slight flinch. But the guy was not done.
He grabbed Dante's outstretched limb and yanked.
Dante barely had time to react before he was pulled off his feet, and before he could harden, the man drove a fist straight into his chest.
Pain. Sharp, deep pain.
Dante crashed into the pavement, coughing as his vision blurred.
In the back of his mind he saw a figure standing there with his arms crossed.
"Get the fuck up. Now. Don't waste my body being weak. Get up. NOW."
Dante forced himself to roll over just in time to avoid the follow up stomp that would have crushed his rips. He pushed himself up, but his breathing was uneven and ragged.
The man exhaled, shaking his forearm he had used to block Dante's whip. "Damn! That actually hurt." He looked at Dante with what seemed to be respect in his eyes?
Dante spat blood into the pavement. His body was in excruciating pain, but he smirked. "Great. That means I'm doing something right."
The guy chuckled, "Sure."
Dante steadied himself. He was not done yet.