Is it wrong to try to build a criminal Empire?

chapter 1

"I am the demon lord. The Symbol of Evil."

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'Damn you, All Might!'

That was the final thought that coursed through All For One's mind as the United States of Smash connected with his face, shattering his helmet—his movable life support system—and ending his life in an instant.

With that decisive blow, the century-old villain who had terrorized Japan for decades met his end at the hands of the Symbol of Peace. The clash unfolded before the eyes of an entire nation, cementing it as one of the most significant moments in Japan's history of heroism.

All Might, though gravely injured, had survived. All For One, however, had not.

His death left a gaping void in the criminal underworld, but his disciple and successor, Tomura Shigaraki, had already fled the scene. Thanks to the intervention of his now-deceased mentor, Shigaraki escaped the authorities and was poised to inherit the remnants of his master's empire.

The death of the master of the League of Villains served as a monumental morale boost to heroes everywhere. Celebrations erupted, and hope ignited once more, with many heralding the dawn of a new era of peace.

But they failed to foresee the storm that lingered on the horizon.

Even in death, the Demon Lord's shadow remained.

Within Shigaraki, the vestige of All For One's quirk began to take root, shaping him into the perfect vessel. The Symbol of Peace had slain the original, but his essence was far from extinguished.

This wasn’t the end for All For One.

It was merely the beginning of the bloodiest era Japan had ever known since the rise of quirks.

Tomura Shigaraki was no longer just a successor or an heir. He was now the vessel for the rebirth of the Demon Lord.

All For One would rise again, and this time, he stood at the center of a battle that would redefine the world of heroes and villains alike.

The era of heroes would become no more than history.

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The Arrival

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In another world, dimensions away from Japan, heroes, and even villains, a young white-haired boy named Bell Cranel found himself hurled out of yet another Familia's hall. His dream of joining a Familia, diving into the Dungeon, and becoming a hero—and saving girls, of course—was crushed once again.

This time, however, it was crushed far more harshly than usual. Bell was thrown out so roughly that he lost his footing, his head slamming into the wall with a sickening thud. He collapsed in a heap, unmoving.

The Familia member who had tossed him out didn’t so much as glance back, slamming the door shut behind him with a dismissive air.

For a brief moment, Bell's still body looked as though life had fled from it entirely.

But then, his eyes snapped open, wide and frantic. He gasped, drawing in deep, desperate breaths as if tasting air for the first time in ages. His chest heaved, and his panicked gaze darted around the unfamiliar surroundings.

He clutched at his head as though wracked by an unbearable headache, his expression a mix of confusion and disorientation. Slowly, unsteadily, he forced himself to his feet, legs trembling as though they could barely support him. Without any clear direction, he began to stumble away.

To an observer, nothing particularly unusual seemed to have occurred.

To the petite goddess who had been watching him, however, it was a moment of tense relief.