With the memories of All For One etched into his mind and his own ability to sense stolen life, Junsei moved from one city to the next.
He searched for humans with too much life clinging to them, hiding in warehouses or shady places.
He did not care for their stories, dreams or their thoughts. All of it was meaningless, he only cared If they carried abundant life and did not wear the conspicuous attire of heroes, he killed them without question and without hesitation.
It was simple. He was correcting the imbalance these humans had caused and simultaneously filled the emptiness.
During his hunt, he altered his clothing whenever possible. A different jacket, pair of shoes. Hats, or hoodies. He understood how police and heroes operated on patterns and witness accounts. He made certain none could trace and find him easily.
Now he walked the streets of Musutafu.
Baggie pants. A loose hoodie concealing his long white hair.
It was night.
Then he felt it.
A presence in a nearby alleyway, it didn't have overwhelming life, but it was still there, thick enough to be noticed.
Junsei altered his path immediately.
He turned into the alley and halted.
A man in a business suit stood with trembling arms extended, pointing a handgun at another man several meters away.
The one holding the gun appeared to be an ordinary salaryman. And his hands shook visibly.
Opposite him stood a man with a crude, arrogant smile. His arms were transformed, blades protruding where hands should have been. A gangster by posture and expression alike.
Junsei's attention was fixed on him.
The life surrounding the gangster was dense.
The gangster laughed.
"A coward like you can't kill," he sneered. "We both know that. So why cause trouble? Hand over the money and drop to your knees to apologize."
The salaryman stuttered, voice cracking. "I…I don't dare to kill. But I can punish you!"
THe salaryman closed his eyes before the sound of a gunshot shattered the alley's silence.
The gangster jerked as the bullet struck him. He groaned and dropped to one knee.
"You bastard!" he roared. "You shot me! I'll fucking kill…"
His words cut into a scream.
His blade-hands began to change. Within seconds, his arms returned to normal human hands.
Junsei's eyes widened slightly because of what he felt.
Life was leaving the gangster's body.
"My hands!" the gangster shrieked. "My quirk! What did you do to me?!"
The salaryman's voice trembled, yet carried a strange fervor. "You're quirkless. Just like me!"
"That can't be!" the gangster screamed. "What the hell is this?!"
Junsei's perception sharpened.
He scanned the salaryman.
There was no life clinging to him.
Just as there was now none clinging to the gangster.
That had never happened before.
The only way to free life is by killing the human.
But here, life had been freed, yet the man still breathed.
Junsei's mind raced [Was the quirk the anchor? Did losing the quirk free life? If so, how?]
He stepped forward, unable to remain still.
"What did you do to him?" Junsei asked, his voice cutting through the chaos. "What did you shoot him with?"
The salaryman was startled at his presence. "Th-this isn't what it looks like. I…"
"He shot me!" the gangster screamed hysterically. "Now I can't feel my quirk! I can't use it!"
Junsei ignored him and continued walking.
As he passed, the gangster lunged weakly and clutched Junsei's leg.
"Please," he begged. "Help me…"
Junsei did not look down.
He swung his arm once.
The force sent the gangster flying into the nearby wall. He hit it then the ground, he didn't move afterward.
Junsei's gaze never left the salaryman.
The man's face drained of all color.
"You…is.. is he alive?"
Junsei repeated "What did you do to him? What did you shoot him with?"
The salaryman's knees buckled. Tears streamed down his face.
"Please spare me! I didn't mean to! I'm sorry! I won't tell anyone about you! Just let me go!"
"Answer me."
"It-it was a bullet," the man sobbed. "A quirk-removing bullet. I bought it from a thug for a hefty sum of money!"
Junsei's eyes narrowed.
"How does it work?"
"I don't know! I swear I don't know! All I was told it will remove the quirk without killing the target"
Junsei stepped forward and seized him by the collar, lifting him effortlessly off the ground.
"You will show me where you obtained it."
The salaryman's feet kicked uselessly in the air.
Junsei's thoughts churned.
The bullet had removed the gangster's quirk.
More importantly, it had removed the life bound to that human. Or was life bound to the quirk?
If quirks were vessels and life stored within them, then there existed a method to free life from humans without killing the body.
There was something deeper that connected life and quirks. Junsei recalled All For One's memories, about memories and personality stored in quirks and the vestige world. That could be the answer to what was going on now, a connection between the two.
And someone had already found this and a way to sever it, more accurately to remove the quirk entirely.
Junsei tightened his grip slightly.
He needed to understand the how and find the one who discovered it. And so, Junsei's hunt for the origin of the life-freeing bullet began without pause.
The salaryman, trembling and incoherent, led him across the city to a small gang operating from an abandoned warehouse on the opposite side of Musutafu. The moment the gang members saw the salaryman being dragged forward by the collar, they understood.
The man holding him was there most probably for the red bullet.
Less than a minute later, Junsei exited the warehouse dragging a different gang member by the neck. Behind him, the salaryman lay shaking in a widening pool of blood.
The pattern repeated itself across the night.
Warehouse to alley. Alley to bar. Bar to hidden apartment.
Junsei tracked the source through layers of thugs and criminals. He offered no words. No threats beyond the immediate.
You either showed him where to go or you died.
His lack of restraint terrified whoever encountered him. He was not like heroes or police, he didn't demand surrender or speak of justice. He spoke only of direction and death.
What would have taken a conventional investigation weeks of surveillance and paperwork was resolved before dawn.
By early morning, Junsei was walking directly toward the source.
The Yakuza, led by Overhaul.
As the first light of sunrise crept over the horizon, Junsei arrived before the Yakuza's base.
It was a traditional Japanese estate concealed behind a three-meter-high wall. The structure was old yet meticulously maintained.
Junsei did not ring the bell.
He leapt, clearing the wall and landing within the front garden.
A few Yakuza members were already stationed there.
They reacted immediately.
Weapons were raised. Guns aimed at him.
A towering man, nearly three meters tall, stepped forward. His frame was massive, shoulders broad enough to block the path entirely.
"Who the hell are you?" the giant demanded. "You're no hero. And you certainly don't look like a cop."
Junsei's gaze moved calmly across the courtyard.
"This is the Yakuza base?" he asked. "Where Overhaul resides?"
The giant narrowed his eyes. "You're looking for the boss? Who the hell are you?"
"I want to see him," Junsei replied. "I have questions about the red bullets he has been distributing."
One of the armed men behind the giant spoke urgently. "Rikiya-nee, let's capture him for now. We have to prepare for heroes. We don't have time for this."
The giant nodded slowly. "Someone who barges into another man's home shouldn't expect courtesy."
Junsei examined them.
Rikiya had a significant life. Of the three behind him, two held more than average.
The last had none.
Rikiya extended his enormous hand to seize Junsei.
Junsei moved first.
He raised his own hand and caught the giant by the head, fingers spreading across the skull and temple.
Electricity erupted instantly.
It discharged directly into the man's brain.
Rikiya screamed in pain. His massive body convulsed violently. The scent of burnt flesh spread through the garden as thin black smoke rose from his scalp.
Within seconds, the convulsions stopped.
Junsei flung the corpse aside. The giant's body struck the ground heavily, lifeless.
The three remaining men froze.
Shock immobilized them.
"You bas…" one began.
He did not finish.
A thin, compressed blood projectile pierced straight through his head, exiting cleanly.
The second man fell the same way, a silent collapse before he could process what he had seen.
The third was struck in the leg.
He screamed and crumpled to the ground, clutching the pierced limb.
Through the pain, he lifted his weapon and attempted to aim.
A second blood bullet struck his hand.
Fingers severed instantly, scattering across the ground. The gun dropped uselessly.
The man screamed again, writhing.
Junsei walked past him without haste.
"Stay down," he said evenly. "I will not kill you. You do not have life."
The Yakuza member groaned, clutching the ruin of his hand and leg.
Junsei did not look back.
He stepped toward the house and entered.
The garden, moments ago guarded and orderly, now was a bloody mess.