Growing up in the slums, alongside his brother, had certainly shaped his world more than he wanted to admit. The comics that his brother used to read— the stories about the Demon King and how he ruled the world —all of it made Zen want more from life. He didn’t want to be known as a boy from the slums, but instead, the Demon King.

And that’s exactly what he did once he grew old enough.

It started easily enough; manipulating those weaker than him with quirks that were… less than pleasing. He’d take what they had, give them something better, and earn their loyalty. Loyalty came with promises, and with promises came the masses, and with the masses came power.

Slowly but steadily, Zen had amassed so much power and wealth in Japan that he was the world’s most feared villain. No one else compared to him, and those days spent in the slums became a bygone memory. People no longer looked down on him like he was trash— no, they looked up to him or they feared him —both pleased him regardless.

Yet you never looked at him with fear or loyalty.

Instead, he always saw pity in your eyes; sickening, weak pity.

How could someone as weak as you pity him?

It made him sick enough that he didn’t hesitate to have one of his subordinates take you off the street, whisking you away into an underground compound where Garaki conducted experiments. There was nothing you could do about it, since you were quirkless, but he quickly rectified the situation.

“How are you liking your new quirk?” He smiles at you— that unsettling smile he wore when news choppers reported him destroying yet another sector of Japan —and your stomach flips and churns. You didn’t know how long you’d been held captive by him, but after receiving your new quirk (unwillingly), things had been… hard.

Not only was your quirk difficult to control, but you couldn’t get any handle on it without hurting yourself in the process. You had a feeling Zen had planned for that to happen.