I hum as the elevator descends, the tune light but steady. It echoes softly off the stone walls. The Sanctum hums with magic around me, each rune glowing faintly with every floor passed. Beneath me, the air grows colder, still.
The door opens.
The chamber is wide, dark, and laced with enchantments. Crystal sconces light the room in dim blue. In the corner, ten clones work in perfect rhythm, etching the final lines into a glowing runic circle. The scent of burnt chalk and old parchment fills the air.
None of them speak.
I summon the Yami Yami no Mi from my Inventory. The fruit drops into my palm, heavier than it looks. Black and twisted. Its surface absorbs the light around it like it was hungry.
I step forward and place it at the center of the runic circle. Then I raise my hand.
The circle lights instantly, each glyph igniting in a ripple of golden flame. Magic hums under my feet.
The fruit pulses once.
I walk forward again and reach down. The moment my hand closes around it, I feel it.
The weakness is gone. No fear of water. No fear of drowning. No restrictions.
My lips curl. The clones grin with me.
I bite into it.
The taste is as vile as I expected. Like charcoal dipped in sewage. I chew anyway. Bite after bite, ignoring the bitterness.
When the final piece slides down my throat, it happens.
A low vibration spreads from my chest. The circle dims. My aura explodes outward in a silent wave. The entire chamber shudders.
Dust rains down from the ceiling. One of the sconces cracks.
I raise my hand.
And the void opens.
The black hole hums quietly in my palm. For a second, I just stare. Not because I'm afraid, but because this is power in its rawest form. Not ambition. Not a dream. Actual control. Real leverage. I could rewrite physics with this if I wanted. But today, I'll settle for rewriting the streets.
I laugh. Not from madness. From understanding.
"I could end the world with this," I whisper.
"Bloody brilliant," one clone mutters, flicking a smaller void between his fingers like it's a coin.
I step into the circle again and reactivate the ritual. It lights slower this time, sensing the shift in my body.
This time, I use it on myself.
One weakness to erase. I choose the Devil Fruit limit.
The glow fades.
I summon the Mochi Mochi no Mi.
This one is lighter. Its pink spirals pulse like gelatin. I eat quickly. The taste is sweeter but just as wrong. Like fruit soaked in vinegar.
The transformation is immediate.
My arm stretches unnaturally, turns translucent and white. I solidify it with heat, then harden it with Haki. My skin turns dense. Unforgiving.
I punch the wall. It cracks.
This body is built for crowd control and deception. Perfect.
Behind me, clones begin testing their new abilities. Some phase through walls. Others toss spheres of compressed darkness at reinforced dummies. One clone stretches his torso and laughs as it snaps back into place.
I feel a pull.
Vaelrix is stirring.
I reach toward the Sanctum with my mind and open the portal. A ripple tears through the air in front of me.
She slithers out slowly. No longer a serpent. A creature of ancient shape and growing power. Her scales shimmer with layered green and obsidian tones. She coils around me once, wrapping tight, then shrinks until she rests across my shoulders like a scarf.
I scratch under her jaw.
"I missed you," I say quietly.
She presses her snout against my neck.
I tap my bracelet. A hologram flickers to life, showing the full ecosystem inside the Sanctum. Every creature. Every plant. Their health, mood, energy output.
All monitored with a touch.
I step into the main control room.
It is a cathedral of precision.
The far wall holds a glowing map of Saitama, updated in real time. Colored dots move steadily across the surface. Names and tags hover over each one — enemy gangs, vigilantes, police units. My clones have begun expanding their reach. Wards stretch ten miles in every direction, turning this entire city into a layered Marauder's Map.
Soon, no one will be able to make a move without me knowing.
Two clones walk toward me with new faces. I stop and study them.
"Boss," the first one says, bouncing slightly. "Let me join the gang. I'll be good. Real good. You won't regret it."
Twitchy. Sharp. A little smug. A little too fast to smile.
"Which powers?" I ask.
"Blink and the Germa 66 Raid Suit."
I summon the suit, tailored in stealth black. It folds into his hands and vanishes beneath his coat.
He grins. "Call me Slip. Hit and run. Infiltration specialist."
He blinks out before I can nod.
The second one waits calmly.
"I want the Mochi Fruit," he says, casual and cheerful like it's nothing.
"What's your name?"
He thinks for a moment. "Bait. I'll draw the heat, then drown them in Mochi."
I nod.
"Welcome to the crew."
He flashes a grin and strolls off, hands in his pockets.
The clones are changing. They are not just fragments anymore. They are starting to evolve. Their instincts are branching. Their minds are growing. They are becoming soldiers. Brothers. Tools. Weapons.
All of it useful.
As for my public quirk?
Shadow Clone.
Clean, direct, and convenient. Explains why so many versions of me are seen in different places.
Why my operations never stall.
Let the world think I'm a prodigy swordsman with a simple duplication quirk. It's easier that way.
The rest, the real power, stays hidden.
Between Hiten Mitsurugi style, Mihawk's instincts, and the Kusanagi no Tsurugi, no one will question my legitimacy. It will be seen as pure skill.
I bring up the interface again.
[135 GP – 50 GP = 85 GP]
Upgrade.
Chart – Now Epic
Quirk: Chart (Epic)
Origin: My Hero Academia
A tactical interface tracking the location and status of every marked target.
Upgrades:
City-Wide Range: Now tracks across entire districts
Team Sync: Shares vision, health, and alerts between linked allies
Hostile Tagging: Tracks enemies on contact or through any magical interaction
Predictive Overlay: Displays stress levels, power drain, intent shifts, injury indicators
The new interface forms above my bracelet like a three-dimensional lattice. I see every clone. Every tagged enemy. Each status bar reflects emotional strain, health, movement speed. It is a command system fit for a general.
I close the window.
In this room, I am calm. I am in control.
And the city will learn what that means.
<><><><><><><>
I'm back in the living room. Moonlight filters through the open shoji doors, casting silver bars across the floor. The air smells faintly of incense and magic.
They arrive one by one.
KD strolls in first, sleeves rolled up, red tie loose around his neck. He's snapping his fingers lazily, shaping flame into wolves, dragons, and the occasional rude gesture.
Shadow slips out from the hallway, completely silent. His coat rustles once, then nothing. His eyes glow faintly in the dark, watching everything.
Cage drops in from the ceiling beam, upside down, his hair a mess and his grin wide. He lands without a sound, then strikes a ridiculous pose like he's being photographed.
Slip flickers into the room mid-stride. One second he's outside, the next he's at the wall, inspecting a picture frame that wasn't crooked a moment ago.
Bait walks in last, casually chewing gum, sleeves half-rolled and hands in his pockets. He gives us a lazy two-finger salute and flops onto the couch like it's his throne.
To outsiders, they'll seem like specialists I recruited.
Real people.
Let them think that. It's safer for all of us.
I rub my temples.
"First day, and so many things already done," I say. Tired, but not worn out. Just aware.
KD sets a fire construct of the Tokyo skyline on the table. Then flicks it into sparks.
"So," he says, "are we naming this little empire?"
Slip doesn't even look up. "The Serpent's Veil. Full Slytherin aesthetic. Regal, mysterious, classy."
"House Umbra," Shadow murmurs. "We do not belong in the light."
"Serpent's Nest," Cage offers. "Because it sounds cozy and violent."
Bait grins. "Noir Coil. Too edgy? I kind of like it."
All decent. But they're all thinking too small.
I glance at the moonlight pouring across the floor. The serpent wrapped around my shoulders stirs faintly.
"I've got it," I say.
They look at me.
"The Eighth Coil."
Silence.
Then KD gives a short nod, his expression sharpening.
"Elegant," Slip says. "Ominous."
Shadow closes his eyes, approving.
Cage spins in a slow circle. "It has finality to it. Like the last move before the king dies."
Bait whistles. "Alright. Gang name sounds like a prophecy. I'm in."
I lean back, satisfied. "We'll mark it. I already have a design."
I wave my hand. A green serpent looped in a figure eight forms above the table, wrapped over an interlocking set of geometric shapes. It pulses once with soft light.
"For us, it's cosmetic. But for recruits, it'll be enchanted."
I look at Cage. "Use your flexibility to handle placement. For non-clones, the ink will bind to loyalty. It will track location, grant access to the control room and any future base we ward."
"And if they betray us?" KD asks.
"They lose access. And the tattoo burns away. Permanently."
Cage cackles. "Branded by trust. I like it."
Shadow nods. "Marked by purpose. Good."
I look around at the others.
"Next step is Saitama. The local gangs. The parasites. The ones who think they matter. We sweep them off the board."
Cage steps forward, serious now. "We hit them fast. Clean. Before they notice we're moving."
"We go in pairs," Bait suggests. "Two per zone. We strike at the same time."
I nod. "Only recruit if they're stable. No sadists. No cults. No one who'd sell us out for clout or ego."
"Quality over quantity," KD agrees. "We build loyal. Not loud."
Before I can say anything else, the door slides open.
A tall redheaded woman steps inside wearing a maid outfit. She's holding a tray of drinks and smiling a little too confidently.
She winks.
We all stare at her.
Deadpan.
She sighs and drops the tray on a side table. "I was curious, okay?"
Then her body flickers and reforms — now a redheaded man in a butler suit, same height, same smirk.
Slip lets out a short laugh. Cage claps twice.
It's not like we haven't used female forms. We've worn worse for recon and infiltration. But this?
This was for fun.
"I have issues," I mutter.
Bait nods. "You're not wrong."