"It is the duty of Shiketsu High students to wear the hats issued by the school during official activities."
The Shiketsu student completely ignored Bakugo's impatient muttering and spoke calmly, as if delivering a lecture.
"Why, you ask? Because every action we take carries the glorious tradition of Shiketsu High School."
His narrow eyes tightened slightly until his pupils were almost invisible. The student—Shishikura Seiji—raised his hands slowly.
At his feet lay several strangely shaped lumps of flesh.
"From the moment we enrolled, we were taught responsibility and restraint," Shishikura continued. "Compared to you, who act recklessly under the banner of being heroes, the difference between us is vast."
Bakugo's forehead twitched violently.
"You're exactly the kind of guy I hate."
Kirishima and Kaminari exchanged confused glances.
Kaminari, never one for subtle thinking, blurted out, "What's wrong with this guy? Is he even speaking human language? I don't understand a word!"
Bakugo smirked.
"Let me translate. What he means is: 'My eyes are too small to see how strong my opponent is.'"
Few people in the world could provoke others as efficiently as Bakugo.
Shishikura's eyelids snapped open as wide as they could manage—though the change was barely noticeable.
"My eyes are large! And my vision is excellent!"
"Is he crazy?"
"Something's wrong with his brain."
"Should we leave? I heard there are special protection laws for mental patients…"
The trio's merciless commentary only fueled Shishikura's irritation.
"I hold deep respect for U.A. High School. It is my honor to face your school in competition."
He realized quickly that verbal sparring would not win him this battle.
If Masata had been present, he would have approved.
If you can fight, don't waste time talking.
As Shishikura spoke, his left arm suddenly melted into a pool of flesh.
It detached from his body, writhing grotesquely behind him before splitting into multiple fleshy masses.
"But the conduct of U.A. Class 1-A is deeply flawed. I will correct you."
His Quirk was "Meatball."
He could freely knead and reshape flesh—his own and others'—into pliable masses.
His own body had the greatest flexibility. He could separate, enlarge, and reconstruct it at will.
With a roar, the fleshy masses shot toward Bakugo, Kirishima, and Kaminari like bullets.
"I don't know what these disgusting things are," Kirishima shouted, "but I'll just smash them!"
Without hesitation, he hardened his body and punched forward.
Thud.
His expression changed instantly.
Instead of being blown away, the meat stuck to his fists like thick mud.
"Ugh! That's disgusting!"
He tried shaking it off.
It wouldn't budge.
Shishikura let out a cold snort.
"The moment you made contact, you already lost."
The flesh on Kirishima's arms suddenly spread upward, swelling and assimilating.
Within seconds—
Kirishima himself was transformed into a massive, squirming meatball.
Bakugo and Kaminari stared in horror.
"So those lumps on the ground earlier… were people?!"
Kaminari shuddered.
This Quirk wasn't just powerful.
It was revolting.
"Idiot," Bakugo muttered.
Kirishima's recklessness angered him—but also warned him.
At least now they understood how the Quirk worked.
"Only one?" Shishikura frowned.
He preferred ambushes. His Quirk was strongest at first contact, when the opponent was unaware.
Once people understood his ability, defeating them became harder.
After all, his separated flesh wasn't particularly fast.
If opponents kept their distance, they could avoid being touched.
Of course—
Shishikura had trained specifically to overcome that weakness.
"Scatter!"
Both of his arms dissolved at once, splitting into countless small chunks.
Like a swarm of bees, they surged toward Bakugo and Kaminari.
If speed was lacking—
He would overwhelm with range.
Unfortunately for him, Bakugo was no easy target.
"Armor-Piercing Machine Gun!"
Using his upgraded technique, Bakugo unleashed a barrage of concentrated linear explosions.
The overpass echoed with continuous blasts.
One after another, the small flesh chunks were shredded midair.
"I didn't expect there to be two capable fighters," Shishikura admitted.
The shredded pieces wriggled back toward him and reformed into new arms.
"What?! They can regenerate like that?!"
Kaminari grimaced.
It reminded him of Masata's magma form.
But Masata's ability looked powerful and imposing.
This—
Was pure nightmare fuel.
"This is gross…"
Kaminari pulled a disc-shaped device from his pocket and inserted it into the equipment mounted on his arm.
His expression turned serious.
This was his new gear.
He now carried three launchable, trackable devices.
Within a ten-meter range, any electricity he discharged would be confined to a straight line between himself and the device.
It completely changed his fighting style.
No more uncontrolled discharge.
No more frying his own brain.
If he could stick one of these discs onto Shishikura—
The battle would end instantly.