MHA: Man Of Steel

Izuku arrived at the scene just as the rusted creak of metal echoed from the docks. His eyes narrowed. Children—little girls and boys—were screaming from inside a massive shipping container, chained and huddled together, their tiny fists banging on the steel walls in panic. The container was strapped onto a tanker, ready to be loaded onto a looming cargo ship.

'Pedophiles,' he thought darkly. 'The worst kind of scum to ever walk this earth. Even worse than the Nazis.'

His boots hit the concrete with a sharp thud as he landed in front of the ship, sending a gust of wind that rippled across the dark sea.

Men emerged from all directions, surrounding him with rifles and machine guns pointed right at his chest. They wore ski masks and bulletproof vests, barking orders he didn't even bother listening to.

Izuku simply raised his hands slowly, as if to surrender.

One of them stepped forward, smirking beneath his mask as he aimed his gun directly at Izuku's face. "Move and you're dead, freak."

Izuku tilted his head. Then, in a flash, his hand shot out and grabbed the man's face, slamming it into the ground so hard the pavement cracked.

Crack!

Pow! Pow! Pow!

Gunfire erupted instantly, raining bullets in all directions. The rounds bounced off Izuku's skin like pebbles hitting steel. His black outfit, however, was another story—it began tearing from the impact.

'Tch… this suit's gonna be dust if I don't wrap this up,' he thought, irritated.

With that, he vanished in a blur. He reappeared beside one of the gunmen and delivered a roundhouse kick that launched the man straight into the side of the ship.

Bang!

Before any of them could react, Izuku was already behind the next group. He moved like a ghost—untraceable, unstoppable. One by one, they fell, beaten unconscious before they could even scream.

In less than thirty seconds, it was over.

The port echoed with silence, broken only by the distant cry of approaching sirens. Izuku turned toward the massive container, lifting it effortlessly with both arms before gently placing it down in an open space.

He walked to the hatch and yanked it open. What greeted him was a heart-shattering sight—dozens of children crouched together, faces streaked with tears, their bodies trembling with terror. Some didn't even look up.

The pain in his chest twisted into rage.

"You're all safe now," he said softly, his voice deep and calm.

He turned around and walked away.

The ship still had one rat hiding in its belly. Izuku honed in on the heartbeat with ease and strode below deck. He found the captain—a bloated, sweating man—curled up under a table, trying to stay still.

Izuku reached down and yanked him up by the collar.

"Where were you taking these kids?" he asked, voice eerily calm.

"P-please! I was just following orders!" the man stuttered, eyes wide. "They told me to bring them to some island—some billionaire's private place! That's all I know! No names, no nothing, I swear!"

"Show me where."

By the time the police arrived at the docks, Izuku was already in the air with the captain gripped tightly in one arm. They headed over the sea—past the coastlines—until they reached a secluded island far off near the Bahamas.

Izuku landed hard, a crater forming beneath his boots as he dropped the captain onto the sand.

There was a towering mansion just ahead, lights flickering from the windows, and the muffled sounds of laughter… moaning… music. He could hear everything.

'Sounds like a damn Epstein party,' he thought coldly.

He didn't knock.

Izuku stormed into the mansion and shattered their little fantasy world. Cameras were already floating around him, recording everything. He exposed them—every face, every act, every disgusting detail. No more hiding behind lawyers or money. He streamed it live. Twitter, YouTube, news outlets. The whole world saw.

When the British authorities arrived, they found the mansion in ruins, the guests zip-tied and terrified, evidence plastered all over social media. There was no escaping this.

The world thanked him.

The media called him a savior. A child-trafficking ring made up of some of the world's richest and most powerful men had just been brought down in a single night.

They tried to offer him a prize, a medal, and even a global honor ceremony.

Izuku refused.

He gave them no statement, no interview. He simply flew off into the night, heading home to Japan.

The next morning, the world woke up to breaking news unlike anything they'd seen before. Screens across Japan—and soon the globe—were flooded with footage taken from the live stream Izuku had unleashed at the billionaire's island mansion.

.....

News anchors, reporters, and social media influencers couldn't stop talking.

News Anchor (live broadcast):

"Good morning, everyone. What started as a tip-off about a missing children's trafficking ring has exploded into one of the largest criminal busts in recent history. The so-called 'Hoodie Hero'—a mysterious vigilante who has remained anonymous since his first appearance—stormed a private island last night, exposing some of the world's most powerful elites involved in the vile trade."

Reporter (on-site):

"We're here at the Ministry of Justice, where officials are scrambling to respond. The operation's success has been hailed worldwide, but questions remain about the vigilante's identity, his methods, and whether the Hero Commission will acknowledge his role."

Across social media, hashtags like #HoodieHero, #ChildRescue, and #JusticeServed trended globally, sparking widespread praise and debate. People shared clips from the raid, expressing gratitude and awe.

Fans created fan art and memes, some joking about the Hoodie Hero's dark costume and lightning-fast moves, others speculating about his true identity.

But not everyone was supportive.

Editorial Column, The Daily Sentinel:

"Vigilantism is a dangerous path. While the Hoodie Hero's actions saved lives, they also bypassed the law and risked innocent lives. Who is this boy playing judge, jury, and executioner? Japan's heroes are licensed, trained, and accountable. This masked teenager—however well-intentioned—must be stopped before tragedy strikes."

Inside the Hero Commission headquarters, officials exchanged grim looks. The commission's PR team scrambled to draft a statement acknowledging the rescue without endorsing the vigilante's methods.

Meanwhile, some pro heroes watched the news with mixed feelings—relief for the rescue, but frustration at the media spotlight stealing their thunder.

Back home, Inko watched the coverage quietly in the living room. She glanced at her phone, her worry deepening with every new headline and viral clip.

"I'm happy he saved those kids, but i still can't help but worry for my boy" she murmured.

[A/N: Now don't go hating on a mother for wanting her son to be safe. Kinda like how brain dead DB fans hate Chichi for not wanting Gohan and Goten to fight. Who in their right mind would let a child fight Ailens. ]

Elsewhere, Izuku lay on his bed, scrolling through news clips and tweets on his phone. A faint smile played across his lips as he saw the outpouring of support and the fiery debates alike.

'They don't know it's me... and it has to stay that way.'

He locked his phone, reached for his black hoodie, and slipped it on.

' I wonder how I'll do when I get to UA. Well I'm not scared, next month I take the test. Can't wait ' he thought.

Outside his window, the city buzzed on, unaware that their silent guardian watched over them—ready for whatever came next.

TO BE CONTINUED