As Shigaraki Tomura neared the cold storage, a strange sound reached his ears.
It was rhythmic—wet—like someone eating.
Or perhaps a carnivorous beast feeding.
Curious, Shigaraki shifted his gaze toward the source of the noise.
And then he saw him.
Inside the refrigerated chamber, sitting cross-legged on the floor, was a grotesquely obese man. In his hands was a large slab of thawed pork. He lifted it casually—
Not toward his mouth.
But toward the gaping maw that had split open across his stomach.
The meat disappeared into the abdominal mouth with sickening chewing sounds.
Shigaraki recognized him immediately.
This was his target.
The Butcher.
"Heroes? What a joke. Just a bunch of cowards afraid to die!"
The mouth on the Butcher's head spat curses even as the one on his stomach devoured meat.
Clearly, he was reliving a past encounter.
He had once been cornered by several Pro Heroes—beaten, nearly desperate.
In his final struggle, he'd prepared to go all out—ready to take someone down with him.
But the moment he fought like a cornered animal, the Heroes hesitated.
They avoided direct confrontation.
And ultimately allowed him to escape.
Thinking about it now, contempt twisted across his face.
He had once admired Heroes as a child.
Now?
They were worse than him.
Cowards.
And thanks to those cowards—
He had found this place.
A paradise.
His eyes gleamed as he glanced around the cold storage stacked with meat.
His Quirk thrived on flesh.
With this supply, how far could his strength grow?
The thought made his stomach mouth chew faster.
His appetite increased.
Watching the Butcher curse Pro Heroes while stuffing himself, Shigaraki found it oddly amusing.
It reminded him of elderly women from his previous life screaming in the streets.
But amusement was fleeting.
He couldn't allow this to continue.
Not because he wanted to defend the so-called Heroes being insulted.
In his eyes, any Pro Hero who deliberately let a cannibalistic murderer escape to protect themselves had already forfeited the right to be called a Hero.
Frauds.
If anything, Shigaraki felt contempt toward them.
No—
He had to stop the Butcher because of his Quirk.
"Second Mouth."
The ability to store consumed flesh and bone to amplify strength and regenerate injuries.
The more he ate—
The stronger he became.
If this continued, the fight would only get more troublesome.
In fact—
Shigaraki suspected that if the Butcher cleaned out this freezer, his raw strength might climb into the same conversation as the current No. 1 Hero—All Might.
But despite the power of that Quirk—
Shigaraki had no intention of recruiting him.
Even Villains had lines.
Some boundaries represented the last vestiges of humanity.
Cannibalism.
That was one of them.
The Butcher had crossed it.
Not once.
Repeatedly.
This was not a man teetering on the edge.
He had fallen off entirely.
A mad dog beyond saving.
And Shigaraki had no interest in waking up one day to discover he was on someone's menu.
So he made a decision.
If the Butcher's Quirk was valuable—
Then the brain attached to it was not.
He would replace it.
Turn the Butcher into a Nomu.
Whether the Butcher could survive the transformation process was irrelevant.
If he endured—
Excellent.
If he failed—
Nothing of value would be lost.
After all—
He was merely human refuse.
Shigaraki carefully surveyed the cold storage, confirming there was no secondary exit.
Satisfied—
He stepped forward silently.
The hunt was over.
The operation was about to begin.
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