Ultra Responsibility (My Hero Academia X Spider-Man Reader)

Issue 21 - The Hunter and it's Prey

They were already there before the city even realised it was holding its breath.

A dozen shadows stitched themselves into the evening as they belonged. Not the dramatic kind of shadows that lurk in alleyways with evil laughter, but the subtle kind that sit in plain sight and never draw a second glance. A delivery rider leaned against a lamppost, helmet dangling from one hand, eyes unfocused like he was waiting on a late order. A tourist couple paused beneath a neon sign, smiling too long, phone held too steady. A street vendor adjusted his stall, hands moving in the same rhythm over and over, like practice.

None of them looked dangerous.

That was the trick.

They blended into the city the way rain blends into pavement. Quiet. Certain. Unavoidable.

From the rooftops, one figure lay prone near the edge of a billboard, fabric and paint patterned to match the grime of the skyline. His gaze tracked a stretch of road with the patience of something that had never once needed luck.

Across the street, another hunter sat at a café table, half a cup of coffee untouched, fingers lazily turning a spoon. He looked bored enough to be harmless.

A flick of his eyes said otherwise.

The first voice crackled through a small earpiece, calm and low, barely louder than the hum of traffic.

"In position."

A second voice followed, even quieter, like the speaker was afraid of waking the world.

"South corridor set."

Another.

"Eyes on rooftops. No movement yet."

A pause. Then a fourth.

"Locals are clear. No alarms. We're clean."

They didn't call each other by name. Names were for friends. They weren't friends.

They were a net.

And their target was somewhere out there, unaware that the city had become a cage.

One by one, the hunters murmured into their radios, reporting the same thing in different words. Ready. Set. Waiting.

Then the channel went silent, as if even the static were paying attention.

A voice slid through the earpieces with the kind of confidence you couldn't fake. Deep. Smooth. Almost amused.

"Have you all found your places?"

A few hunters responded at once, quick and respectful.

"Yes, boss."
"Ready, boss."
"Awaiting your order."

On a rooftop far from the cluster, a man stood where the wind hit him first. He didn't hunch against it. The wind did not get that privilege.

Kraven's silhouette was sharply cut against the lights below, coat heavy at his shoulders, gaze fixed on the streets as if he were looking down into an arena. The city glittered, loud and living, clueless that it had just been declared a hunting ground.

He lifted his chin slightly, listening to the quiet chorus of readiness.

His smile was small.

Satisfied.

"Fire the flames," Kraven said.

The words weren't shouted. They didn't need to be. They carried anyway.

"Let the hunt begin."

It was as if a switch had flipped inside each hunter.

The café table scraped back. The "bored" man stood, and suddenly the boredom was gone, replaced by something sharp and hungry. He set down money he didn't owe and walked away without looking back.