𝔸 𝔾𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤 𝕆𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝕍.𝟚 💥𝔹𝕜𝔻𝕜💥

Chapter 50

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Veiled Infiltration

With the plan set in motion, Katsuki's impatience burned hotter than ever, a wildfire licking at the edges of his control. The room felt stifling, each second dragging like molasses as they waited for the woman to return with Eijiro and Fumikage. His jaw tightened, and his hands twitched at his sides, clenching and unclenching in restless cycles. The low hiss of steam from somewhere nearby only added to the suffocating tension.

This is taking too damn long. If this bitch screwed us over—if they weren't through that door in the next sixty seconds—Katsuki swore he'd start tearing the whole goddamn club apart with his bare hands.

The door creaked open, and for a fleeting moment, his muscles coiled, ready to strike. But then, familiar faces emerged from the shadowed corridor. Eijiro's cautious stance shifted the second his crimson eyes met Katsuki's, relief softening his rigid posture. Fumikage followed close behind, his dark presence a steadying anchor amidst the chaos.

Eijiro stepped forward, his voice breaking the tense silence. "Do we finally have a way in?" The hope in his tone sent a jolt through the room, cutting through the heavy anticipation like a blade. "Can we save Midoriya?"

Katsuki's glare flicked to Hitoshi, silently demanding confirmation. Before Hotoshi could respond, Dark Shadow snickered, his voice carrying a playful lilt. "Oh, Dynamight doesn't need a way in. He'd probably just blow a hole through the wall, and we'd still end up exactly where we're supposed to be."

Katsuki shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. "You wanna test that theory, shadow freak?"

Fumikage sighed, pulling his cloak tighter as if to smother the shadowy figure. "Dark Shadow, now is not the time for your antics."

Hitoshi ignored the exchange, his fingers adjusting the settings on his mask with deliberate, audible clicks. The sound punctuated the tension in the room, drawing all eyes to him as he nodded confidently. "We do," he said simply, before looking up. He gestured toward the woman standing stiffly under his quirk's control, her movements robotic and devoid of will. "And she's going to lead us straight there."

"Damn right she is," Katsuki muttered, his voice low but brimming with volatile energy. His crimson eyes locked on the woman like a predator stalking prey, daring her to make one wrong move. How the tables have turned bitch.

Hitoshi stepped closer to her, his tone firm, calculated. "You'll take us to the entrance of the League's hideout. No lies. No games. Any attempts to deceive or betray us will not end well for you."

The warning in his words wasn't subtle—it was a promise.

From the shadows of Fumikage's cloak, Dark Shadow's voice slithered out again, low but teasing. "Oh, she'll lead us all right. Unless she wants Dynamight here to redecorate this bedroom—boom-style."

Damn fucking right he would.

The woman's head dipped in a shallow nod, her movements mechanical. Without a word, she turned and began leading them back down the dim hallway. The sound of their footsteps, heavy against the creaking floorboards, were drowned out by the roaring bass down the hall.

Finally, they stopped at the spot where she had hesitated earlier. Katsuki's sharp memory immediately latched onto the detail, his gut telling him that this was it. Her hand hovered over the wall for a brief second before pressing against an almost invisible indentation. A soft mechanical hum filled the air, and with a low rumble, the wall slid open to reveal a concealed entrance.