Danny stared at his phone for what felt like hours. It was the evening of the following day, and he had spent the whole time wondering about the photo he had made. While at work he was absentminded, of which he was reminded by his colleagues multiple times. Enough for the half ghost to finally snap out of his thoughts and finally concentrate at sorting those veggies. But postponing the issue meant that eventually it would catch up with him, and he would be forced to address it. Phantom was spending the evening all absorbed in his thoughts. The half ghost was running out of time, eventually the cops would use the card he had left behind as a conscious citizen (still without a passport), and the man would either be caught or he would change his number.

The half ghost didn't care about the fate of the one making those business cards. He didn't have any illusions about the nature of the man's enterprise. The villain had that card in his pockets, which implied the criminal nature of that "Giran". There were only the name and the number. No company name, no address, nothing, as if giving away the number was the biggest concession the man could allow himself to make. And since Phantom never found any official information on the guy, it only confirmed the teen's suspicions. The boy's only regret if the man got caught was the lost opportunity for him to attain what he wanted. What did he want? The answer to that was very simple — he needed upgrades. The upgrades he was going to get only in the underground black market. After all, only proper heroes were allowed to gallivant with official support items. He wasn't one of them, so it left him little option. If it meant mingling with criminals, then fine. They were going to get busted anyways. Or maybe he was just putting too much faith in the local police force.

Phantom might have been a formidable opponent in that world of single-powered heroes and villains, but after watching Eraserhead the idea of his own powers one day betraying him didn't leave his mind. It happened before, and he was utterly helpless in those situations. It reminded the half ghost that for all his power there was probably some fish in the ocean that was bigger than him, that could beat him even while having only one ability. Phantom had to be conscious of his limits, even if he was getting too overzealous. The half ghost needed a preventative measure. Something that could save his backside in a pinch and probably aid his endeavours in other ways. While he doubted that the locals had something to assist a half ghost, he could, in theory, modify the tools to suit him. He just needed something to use as a basis.

It wasn't going to be his first time associating with the bad guys. Mind you, each Christmas so far they all went to a common party and had fun. And they also cooperated on multiple occasions, even if it was only to take down a bigger menace, be it the Ghost Investigation Ward or the undead tyrant himself. That thought brought some solace to the teen. Because he was going to involve himself with the criminals with one goal only — to be better at taking down said criminals. Since he had made such deals with his own conscience before, Phantom was willing to compromise now. But then the idea gained another layer. It went without saying that the teen was one step away from going broke. There was no possible way for him to actually buy the goods from the black market. So, the half ghost intended to harass the criminals until they gave him what he wanted. It was something very dangerous, for if he angered the wrong people, his peaceful life was going to end without even starting. He had left his world precisely to avoid that very thing. Nonetheless, he had a plan. First the teen needed to conduct his small investigation and find where the underground smiths worked. His first clue was the business card.

But then, what could he offer that man for the information? Money was out of the question, same as committing a crime for a favour. That left the ghost with nothing. Still, looking at his phone the half ghost decided that an attempt had to be made first. Whatever the outcome was, he wouldn't know it until he tried. Dialling the number from the business card, Danny started waiting, each ring making the teen more and more doubtful. Still, someone from the other end chose to respond to the call.

"Yeah?"

Danny inaudibly took some breath. "Good evening. I'm talking to Giran, correct?"

A brief silence followed. "I don't recognise your voice, whoever you are. Or your number."

"Perhaps you shouldn't give your business cards away so easily, sir," Danny peeked through the barred window of his attic room. "Some passersby may actually get a hold of one. Since it fell from the pocket of a criminal, I figured that you either offer legal advice or you are the man's supplier."

"What made you think that?" The man sounded disinterested. Like he knew that nothing was going to harm him.

"That guy looked like a person who would drink battery acid. Thus, not able to create the tools he possessed. The tools I happen to be interested in."

"Oh?" The man's voice gained the undertones of interest. "And how do I know that the possessor of this card is not in prison and I am not being set up?"

"Oh, he certainly is in prison. And I can guarantee you that eventually the police will find that number as well. However, if I wanted to set you up, I would have passed the phone to the detained and told him to invite you, don't you agree?"

"A good point. How did you come across the card, then?"

"I took a picture of it while the hero was too busy saving the hostages. I was just passing by. So, what do you say? Do I pass your little exam?"

"With flying colours," the man responded sarcastically. "Fine, then. I reckon you need a suit?"

"I already have one. I'm looking for the upgrades. Are you the one who makes them?"

"Nah. I am just a humble broker. I can arrange for the goods. You can come and see for yourself."

"Just like that, huh?"

"Time is money, kid. In any case, you got any specifics? What Quirk do ya have?"

It was questionable whether or not it was safe to share that knowledge, but Danny figured that it wouldn't be that harmful. If they had something against ectoplasm, they were already equipped to deal with him. If they didn't, then what was there to even talk about. But just in case...

"How do I know this knowledge won't be used against me?"

"You are trading anonymity with us for the anonymity with the law enforcement. Besides, I have principles, boyo. Surprising, I know, but you can be sure. Your secret is safe with me."

"Fine. My Quirk lets me control ectoplasm."

"What, like that fairy tale ghost substance?"

"You are making it sound like you have no idea about it."

That lack of knowledge was both reassuring and disappointing. But when he thought about it... yes, that was it.

"I guess there is the first time for anything, boy. I'm sure we can come up with somethin'."

"Let me see the workshops you cooperate with," Danny blurted out.

"Eh?" Giran sounded surprised by the boy's audacity.

"If you don't know what ectoplasm is, then you can't build the stuff from scratch. I have the necessary knowledge. And I know what materials to use. However, you have to understand that this is not done over the phone."

"Try me."

Phantom's lips thinned. "Sorry, Your Highness. Maybe I should explain the principles behind hadron collider while I'm at it?"

"I would be careful with words if I were you. I can press a button and there will be no deal. But... I guess we can work with what we got. This doesn't depend on me alone, though. If the masters I know have no qualms about it and don't know what this ectoplasm is, then we will use your input."

"That will do, I suppose."

"Oh, and don't call this number again. Useless. I'll call you from another one. Got it?"

"Yeah. I'll wait until then."

And like that, the call was over. The conversation had gone better than he could ever hope. He was getting into the workshop free of charge, which was perfect for snatching the nuts and bolts he could use to make his own upgrades. And putting a stop to the illegal activity. But did he truly have the ability to put down whoever was present there? If not, he had the ability to get out of there and call heroes on them. That was the main part of the aforementioned plan. If everyone in the workshop was too busy with the attacking heroes, and the heroes were too busy detaining the criminals, certainly they would miss a detail or two vanishing. Danny grinned deviously. He was performing a community service and getting something in return. One would say that it wasn't very heroic, and they would be right to an extent, but the half ghost too had to eat and defend himself somehow. Those were the talks of an idealist, and Phantom hardly could consider himself as such. Morals often were sidelined when survival was the only thing that mattered.

Going back to the whole 'cooperation' with his opponents and dubious standards, it's not that Danny liked the Christmas truce much. All those smiling faces, the playful jabs at his expense just days after they tried to kill him, for a day pretending that nothing was wrong. They were the reason he was sleep-deprived. They were the cause of nearly every scar on his body. Everyone knew what had happened before and what would happen when the following day arrived. The same beating, the same vicious cycle of the ghost boy saving the day and thwarting their plans. And then mercifully releasing them like a fisherman who is in it for the process. He wasn't even imprisoning them. He hated them all even more on that day, even if it was a day for him to take a breather.

It made him wonder how the local heroes handled this. Was it just because they were in abundance and could share the burden? Danny didn't know that. He was the only hero of his world, and he was cracking in a single small town, solving problems of ghostly kind only. On the other hand, the heroes also lived off of saving the people. They didn't have other jobs, school or anything of the sort. It was their job, a job like any other, even if coupled with much greater risks. Or maybe Danny was just too weak spirit-wise, succumbing to exhaustion and the desire to rest for once? He didn't know. He really wasn't sure of anything concerning himself. Hell, he wasn't even sure what to eat the next day.

That world really was giving the half ghost a lot of room for thinking and reflecting upon himself. Hopefully it could bare some results.

The rest of the week passed without anything of note happening. It was to be expected, with Giran's number and info probably leaked by the arrested criminal, he was going to move and lay low for a while. All Danny could do was building his dream castles, excitedly thinking about the tools he could build to make both his fighting and living conditions better, all the while continuing his diligent work at the shop. He found little to no news about the electric villain, which to his experienced mind meant that the police was currently investigating the matter and didn't want any extra information to leak. Or they just ignored it. One of the two. The latter was still hardly viable, because to let go of a case that left a whole district with no power would be an act worth protesting against. Danny himself, while not being primarily focused on that, was still curious as to what was the bigger idea behind the attack. Whatever it was, the guy obviously wasn't working alone. Maybe Giran knew, but Danny wasn't going to ask anything beyond what he himself needed.

And speaking of whom, the half ghost eventually received a call from the shadowy broker. Excusing himself from the workplace, Danny found a safe spot to talk. Giran was concise that time: he merely stated that no, nobody knew how to handle ectoplasm and what it was like. Thus, the teen was invited to see the master that was willing to experiment. The meeting spot from was also set. The extra stipulations were an odd idea, and Danny naturally suspected a foul play, so he prepared for the worst. The teen started looking around the industrial area. It was located near the sea, and he was searching for a 'man in purple suit', as Giran had so elaborately hinted. His search was conducted while the teen was in his ghost form. It really was pain knowing that both of his appearances compromised him, but little Danny Fenton was going to stay under the radar. The human part's feigned innocence was more important.

There weren't any people around the area, which was concerning for a while. Until the teen remembered that it was Sunday, so of course nobody would be around. After floating around for a while, the teen could see a black van. And there, leaning against it and smoking a cigarette, was a man wearing purple. It was a middle-aged man with grey hair, goatee and small untended moustache. Taking a small sigh, Danny flew towards him. Once he soundlessly landed on the roof of the van, the teen dropped his invisibility.

"Hello there!" the teen cheerfully greeted. "Sorry I'm late, the destination was very unspecific."

Danny saw no point in acting tough now when they met face to face. His appearance most of the time always acted against him in that regard. The man straightened up and turned towards him, a bit of surprise flashing from under his circular glasses.

"You are the one who called?" Giran asked.

"Yep. You sound surprised," Danny jumped off the van.

"How old are you, kid?"

"Fifteen," Danny said and crossed his hands.

"You don't look much older than thirteen," the man said and smirked, flashing a gap in place of where front teeth should have been. Giran then took his time to examine the white haired teen in front of him. Danny's assumption about his appearance was correct, the broker remained unimpressed. There were impressive muscles underneath the black suit, but the broker wasn't going to be intimidated by the boy only because of that. Speaking of what he was wearing.

"What's with the getup?"

Danny raised an eyebrow and examined his clothes, from the gloves to the pants.

"Is something wrong with the looks?"

"It looks like something my mommy would sew, kid."

"As a matter of fact it was made by mine," Danny responded without batting an eye. "Although it was meant to be a normal hazmat."

"I can see why you would need something else. It's not a proper costume at all. But I'm not the expert, so I'm just taking you to the professional. This brings us to my favourite topic. How is the situation on the financial front of yours, kid? Got enough lunch money saved up?"

Danny hissed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not great, admittedly."

"Thought so, I have an eye out for such things. Well, I'd like to know about your Quirk first."

"Why?"

"I offer you a solution, kid, like a kind and sensible person that I am. How much do you know about... the Underground Masquerade?"

"Wow, you guys dedicated a club to costume parties?"

Giran sighed. That kid had no clue about how things were run around there. Which must have been evident from his age and western appearance. That or he was just mocking him. Maybe both.

"This is a nice way to get money, kid. If you can fight well, that is. It is a hidden fighting pit. It did take quite a beating, from All-Might, no less, but the enterprise was so well-off, that it was a shame not to simply move the pit and continue the fighting."

"Lemme guess. It is also illegal, and it serves the purpose of drug trafficking and gambling."

"Huh. You got it all figured out, eh?"

"That's what all of the fighting pits are about."

"Speaking from experience?" The man huffed. "It shouldn't really concern ya. The point is, you want upgrades, I know you do. But you also lack the funds to buy them. The prize money even from one victorious fight will be enough for a minor upgrade. And if someone who is watching gets interested in you, then you can even get one for free."

"It will make me a walking advertisement, though."

"Precisely. But a smart person doesn't look into a gifted horse's mouth. Or what, you thought you will be the first smartass to try and rob us, kid?"

Danny realised that that plan was already figured out. Much to his inner dismay. "I never excluded that possibility. But your offer sounds good, too," he smirked. "Why are you being so cooperative, though?"

"Simple, boyo. If you lose, I won't be at any disadvantage and the knowledge of my face dies with ya. If you win, I get paid for my services. I am not at any loss in any case."

"So those are the fights to the death?"

"Are you scared?"

Danny smirked and put his hands on his belt. "I fought bastards tougher than anything you can throw at me."

"I sure hope so. The latter option will still be preferable. I'd like you to make some money for me. Get in the back of the van, then, kid. I was just heading there. Don't stick out, or everyone will think I kidnapped a kid."

"Have you ever?"

"There was one time. Doesn't matter."

As Giran went to the driver's seat, Danny called after the man.

"Are you charging for taxi services, too?"

"Most certainly."

After a lengthy ride, the black van eventually stopped. After sitting in one place for around an hour, Danny immediately got up and exited the car through its back door, scanning his surroundings and stretching his sore muscles. It was, by all means, a spacey garage, filled with all attributes of a service station. There were even some cars undergoing the repairs, unattended they may have been at the moment. The doors were closed behind them, for a moment submerging most of the place in darkness. Giran went towards the light switch, but then, seeing the teen, he stood at his spot, confused. The reason behind it was the boy's body and its unnatural glow. Danny turned his toxic eyes towards him, creating an even eerier atmosphere.

"My energy comes in contact with the air molecules," the boy explained, remembering his parents' lecture on that confirmed fact.

Shaking his head, Giran flicked on the lights and gestured for the teen to follow him. The man hoped that  exit from the garage was blocked by a heavy iron door, so out of place in a place such as that. Which by all logic meant that there was something important behind it. Giran knocked on it in a specific rhythm, which seemed to be the password. A pair of eyes appeared behind a small open hatch.

"Ah, Giran, that you? Come on in."

The door opened, revealing a slenderly built man, whose eyes seemed to be very...slug-like, located on skinny stalks. The doorman was the one to talk first.

"What brings you here, man?"

"I found a potential client. He was willing to participate in a fight."

When the doorman turned to face the teen, he was already standing near him, curiously examining the person who must have had a very unfortunate quirk. Out of surprise, the doorman jumped at that personal space violation.

"You have a funny Quirk," Danny pointed out, before grinning and stepping back, outstretching his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Oh, yeah, punk?" The man's look turned angry. Probably. He lacked any eyebrows for Danny to make a guess. "Just get in, already."

"Yeesh," the teen followed Giran deeper inside, down the staircase. "No hard feelings, man!"

"A friendly advice," Giran hissed. "If you want to walk out of here in one piece, don't make an enemy out of everyone you meet."

"Sorry," Danny winced. "I am just used to that. What's this place anyway?"

"The Underground Masquerade used to be located in Osaka, before it all went to shit. It was decided to hide in plain sight instead, right under the heroes' noses. It is more difficult infrastructure-wise, but much safer. There used to be an underground road beneath the place, but during a villain fight it was damaged beyond repair. Since they were building another route already, it was decided to abandon it for a time and just pour cement over the entrance. After a little bit of expansion, we got a spacey place for an arena. Oh, your Quirk isn't going to destroy it all, I hope?"

"I can control it just fine. It won't come to that, I promise."

"Also, everyone present wears their masks, even the spectators. Everything that takes place here is recorded with cameras, so it is a safety measure."

"That's why you call it a 'Masquerade'."

Giran nodded and dug in his pockets, fishing up a sleep mask with a couple of holes in it.

"Put it on," Giran commanded.

"I'm going to look like a dumbass," Complained Danny.

"Look at your costume, kid. You already look the part. I'm not spending more than I need on you."

The half ghost took it and begrudgingly put it on his face. Seeing Giran put on a proper masquerade mask, Phantom turned even more grumpy.

The two of them finally got down, and Danny was taken aback by the loud noises. The thunderous cacophony was fuelled by the sound of fighting in the arena located in the middle of the spacious hall, the loud cheering from the crowds, the loudmouth commenter speaking about what was transpiring. Giran led the teen away from the arena, towards a room to the side. Looking at the teen, the broker started to speak.

"Alright, boy. That's how it goes. You go in, register for a fight, and the rest is self-explanatory."

"You'll be watching, yes?"

"Duh. I need to see if my client is capable enough. Off ya go."

Danny sighed and entered the room. It appeared like a normal office, with a normal man sitting behind it. The normality of it all made the teen amused. Once he entered, the man looked up at him in confusion.

"Do you need something?" He asked nonchalantly.

"Yeah...ehm... I want to sign up for a fight."

"You?" The man examined the newcomer. "Kid, this isn't a prom. It's a death pit."

"I know. I can and I want to fight. So I ask that you let me."

"I've seen a fair share of stupid brats thinking they can do everything. And those who are now six feet under."

"Then I'll make sure not to die. Well?"

The man sighed. "I guess there are people who will enjoy seeing a kid decapitated, the freaks. Fine. Just sign a few papers."

"Seriously? Paperwork in a place like this?"

"Just sign them," the man handed him a sheet of paper. "By doing that, you acknowledge that you might get killed and that you have no complaints with us. Furthermore, you agree on some medical treatment."

"Treatment?"

"Despite this being a fight that can end in death, we try to make sure that that is not the case. Veterans bring us viewers. Viewers bring cash. So we try to keep at least some fighters alive."

That seemed logical. Sighing, the teen signed the papers. Putting them away, the man then handed the teen another sheet.

"Now, we need to know your pseudonym. By which you will be addressed during the fight."

That was a tricky question that made Danny think. He could write the name 'Phantom' and be done with it. However, the current activity was illegal, and the teen didn't want to sully the ghostly hero's name. What if he actually wanted to one day step into the light? The reputation in the death pit was going to stick to him forever. So, he needed to use the name that wasn't so far off, someone whose name was already smeared enough. Thus, he wrote it down and handed the paper to the man behind the desk.

"Pariah, huh? Can't say it fits, but it's your funeral, kid. Today your number will be 26. You go out of this room and to the left. Then, in that room you go downstairs and wait until your number is announced. Rookies like you are pitied against each other randomly."

Danny nodded, turning around. As he went towards the waiting room, he couldn't help but chuckle. Picking a name of his predecessor — the former Ghost King — was an interesting idea. Phantom didn't know how the tyrant would react to his name being used in such a manner, by a man who bested him in combat. It wasn't a homage by any means, Danny just thought up of the first name that had a certain connection to him. It was also somewhat poetic, since being a pariah was what brought him to that place. So, he was going to use that name to try and replenish a piece of what was lost. Danny didn't plan on coming to the place often, but an extra safety bag was always good. He could at least start eating properly.

Almost lost in his daydreams, the half ghost made his way to the room, being immediately faced with a very noteworthy crowd. The place was lacking in the whole fighting department, which made sense if you thought about it. The fighters, no matter their animosities, didn't want to show off their Quirks just yet. That element of surprise was something they all valued, as it could always give them an edge over their opponents. Danny could relate to that idea, although some people were simply unable to hide the fact. There existed Quirks that were impossible to hide. Their appearance largely gave it away from the get-go, be it large arms, solid skin or a ton of muscles. They all were most likely to go for strong punches. Danny doubted that they could create much of a show, people came to that place to watch people use their Quirks, but simply punching each other was probably not very entertaining. The half ghost intended to give people what they wanted.

As the teen passed fellow fighters, one of the them stood up. He was of the aforementioned mundane category, built like a bull and certainly looking the part, due to the two protruding horns. The man had grey skin and one eye located between those horns. It almost felt like the ground shook when the man approached the half ghost.

"Hey, kid! Are you lost?" He asked mockingly.

"Depends," Danny shrugged. "This is a place where fighters wait for their turn, right?"

"Is this a sleeping mask you got on?!" Someone among the crowd exclaimed and started to laugh, accompanied by others.

"Yes," the teen responded. "I had to improvise. I assure you, it won't affect the fight in any way."

"So you are actually fighting? Jeez, I would hate to spray the kid's brains all over the floor," the minotaur guy huffed.

"No, you would not. From your face I understand that it will bring you a disturbing amount of pleasure," Danny tapped on the giant's chest, fixed his gloves and sat on the nearest bench.

Nobody bothered him afterwards. The people were simply too busy preparing for their matches or watching others fight. There was a TV screen in the room meant to do just that. Danny occasionally took a glance at the fights, noticing a very striking feature of the arena. The contestants seemed to utilise whatever they wanted: guns, knives and other tools. They also injected themselves with some bizarre stuff right out in the open. From the occasional comments of other fighters, Danny learned that it was something called "Trigger". Basically, it boosted a person's Quirk, but it also wiped away any sense of reason. The person basically became a fast moving truck with a dead driver. The half-ghost wasn't sure if it would work on him, but it's not like he was willing to try. Drugs are a menace, not a solace, and he could rely on his powers.

Eventually, the teen's number was announced. Danny stood up and went towards the exit every fighter before him had used. He was momentarily blinded by the projector lights and assaulted by the commenter's voice.

"Alright, folks, this will be the last fight for today! We have some late arrivals, after all! Let's see, on one side we have a newbie, and we know how you love those! The kid may not look like much, and I'm not even sure if it is even alright by our rules, but who cares? Pariah is his name, everyone! I don't know what Quirk he has, but let it be a surprise to all of us! Let us give him a proper welcome and wish him some luck, because his opponent will be someone many of you know! After all, he has a record of astounding victories before! Meet the lovely three centners of muscles — Minotaurus!"

As Danny entered the arena and bowed theatrically before the audience, he heard the familiar rumble behind him. Turning around, the teen was faced with the chest of the man he had come to know.

"So we are actually fighting, kid," the horned man smirked viciously.

"Really? Of all the people I get the most boring one?" Danny grumbled, looking up. The man was almost twice as tall as him.

The fighters stood in the opposite ends of the ring, waiting for the call to start. The half-ghost examined his surroundings. The reinforced glass was probably enough to hold them inside, but the teen still wondered how strong it was. The floor — a single solid rock. Someone among the staff must have been good at controlling stones. Danny then concentrated on the opponent, who was eagerly cracking his knuckles. It appeared his earlier assessment had been correct. He really was going to enjoy the fight. As long as he was winning, that is.

"And begin!" The announcer shouted.

Minotaurus immediately burst forward. In a few seconds, the man was already near the opponent. The next thing he saw was the boy's smirk. His giant fist made an impact, smashing the spot Danny's head was at. For a split second everyone thought that the boy was done for, only to then see nobody there. The bull had only left several cracks on the glass.

"Phew, that was close."

Minotaurus looked to the side, and saw the grinning half ghost standing on his shoulder. How did he get there? The man immediately shook him off, and Danny softly landed on the ground behind him.

"Wow! Have you actually seen this guy move?!" The announcer asked. "I most certainly didn't, what an amazing speed!"

Minotaurus huffed out hot air, hit the ground with his foot, preparing to lunge again.

"Wish I brought my red cloth," Danny commented.

As the man lunged, the half ghost readied up. He could try and exhaust the bull, but who knew how long it would take. Forcing the enemy to hit everything around, thus causing the severe harm to himself, was also hardly an option. The enemy probably thought this through. Danny wanted to keep his power showcase to the minimum, but what the hell. The bull bolted forward, as the teen pointed his palm towards him. The next second, a green barrier separated them. The man's fist hit it with all the strength he had, but the counteracting force only pushed the bull back, not without causing damage both to the barrier and to Minotaurus's own arm. The closest viewers could even hear an almost metallic sound made upon the impact.

"So... that's your Quirk?" The man asked, rubbing his fist. "Making shields?"

"Not exactly," Danny smirked, sitting on a green stall that had appeared out of nowhere. "I'm not limited only to that."

"You can't attack with a chair, kid," Minotaurus barked a laugh.

"Oh, you are quite right," Danny kept smiling behind his shield. "But I told you."

A single swipe of his hand, and the barrier burst into hundreds of small light beams, barraging the shocked giant with hundreds of small pellets, as if he was firing a massive machine gun. They shocked, burned like fire and acid at the same time, leaving the man's chest covered in a pleiad of wounds. With each shot the shield got smaller, for the ectoplasm within it was depleting in order to fire, and eventually the shield completely dispersed. After it was gone, Danny lazily got up, the stall disappearing behind him right after.

"I'm not limited at all," he finished.

Up at the premises, Giran was watching the fight below with great interest. It appeared that the boy was in possession of a very powerful Quirk. Furthermore, he was talented enough to utilise it properly. He was, however, the loudmouth type, and the broker didn't like their kind much. He knew what their strategies were — they wanted to distract their opponents, anger them, force them to make mistakes. Unfortunately, it worked both ways, and the brainpower spent on witty comebacks was the same brainpower not used for reacting to the attack. Giran was now interested in that kid, despite everything. He had the potential.

"Would you look at that, folks! It seems the kid is full of surprises!" The announcer spoke. "It also looks like it hurt..."

"I am fine!" The bull roared, hitting the ground and ripping off his black, charred T-shirt. "You want to die so badly, huh, you brat?"

"I specifically didn't aim for your head, you know," Danny shrugged, pointing at his own face. "I expect the same courtesy. Girls won't fall for a black eye."

"I'll make you pay for underestimating me," the giant growled. "I'll smash you into a pulp!"

With a roar, the man began the attack. Phantom created another barrier in his way, but this time the bull ran around it, swinging his leg instead of a fist. Unexpected, quick and powerful, the hit landed into the half ghost's stomach. The teen had all the air kicked out of his guts, and he himself flew to another end of the arena. The crowd felt excited upon seeing the fight getting more and more heated, while the bull began to bask in the audience's cheers. The man roared and hit himself on the scarred chest. Danny's back hit the glass wall, and if he had a spine in his ghost form, he most certainly would have broken some joint. He slowly slid down to the ground and landed on his feet, pumping the energy to heal the wounded parts. With a corner of his eye he saw the unrelenting opponent rapidly coming in to finish the job. Alright, he really had underestimated that man's intelligence.

As another hit was about to connect, the teen pushed himself towards Minotaurus, turning intangible right after. The teen flew right through the attacker, and whilst still in the air behind and above him, Phantom fired a powerful ectoblast downwards. The force behind it was enough to propel him even higher, and on the receiving end Minotaurus let out a scream of pain, drowned out by the big explosion. The smoke filled the entire arena, only slowly escaping tiny breathing holes. At first the giant couldn't find the strength to get up, feeling as if a nuke had been dropped on his head. But the adrenaline started to flow through his veins, and the downed fighter slowly got up, shielding his face from the smoke particles. Minotaurus remembered that he was not alone, and the kid was still somewhere nearby. Then a chilling laughter reached his ears. The fighter turned to where the sound came from, but still found nothing.

"You still won't go down. Amazing, really."

The man looked at his shoulder again, and he could swear the kid was there just a moment ago. But then the unmistakable pair of deathly green eyes shone in front of him. On his own eye level, as if they were... floating. Without thinking, Minotaurus ran forward, but only hit the sturdy wall at full speed.

"No, no, no. I'm not falling for that again," the half ghost's voice continued to mock him. "You got me because I thought you are a dum-dum."

"Show yourself, you coward!" Minotaurus yelled, only hitting thin air.

"And deny myself a chance to laugh at you some more?" Danny asked loudly. "Ah, fine then."

The man could see the same pair of eyes floating right before him.

"I'm not moving away, pal. Come on, take your chance this time."

Minotaurus decided to take it. His legs prepared to kick off, his hands at the ready. Even his horns could come at handy. The giant rushed forward, and in the last moment, through the thinned smoke he only saw the boy's vicious smirk, the vicious look in his toxic green eyes, and the fist engulfed in emerald flames. The next second there was an impact. The force behind the hit was so great, that it launched the giant back, and even the reinforced glass surrendered and cracked to pieces. The man flew outside of the arena, only by miracle not landing on any of the viewers. The smoke actively poured out of the arena, and from it emerged the victorious fighter. Danny jumped down from the elevated spot and approached the fallen giant, but not without sparing a glance towards the announcer.

"I think it counts as a knockout, chief!" He called.

"Well, he doesn't seem to get up... Alright!" The announcer raised his voice once more. "That was a quick, but exciting match, was it not?! And so many special effects to boot! This was an outstanding debut of our newest fighter Pariah! Please, come to the administrator's office for your reward, we will be waiting for your next match, kid!"

That man sure was excitable, the teen thought. But that wasn't what concerned him at the moment. Danny approached Minotaurus and crouched nearby. He checked the man's pulse, and to his great relief, it was still there. For a moment the teen feared that he hadn't measured the power behind the strike properly. The half ghost hit the man's chest once more, and it seemed that the vitals weren't damaged. That man was extremely tough, it appeared. Tougher than the glass barrier holding the fighters in. Danny demanded to call for a doctor, and a couple of medics appeared soon after. From his thoughts the teen was snapped out by a hand on his shoulder. Danny looked up and saw Giran standing there, with a lit cigarette in his mouth.

"That was some show, kid. I admit, I misjudged you," he handed the teen an envelope. "Your winnings for tonight. I took the liberty to take those instead of you."

Phantom opened the envelope and saw that it was filled with yen bills. Briefly counting those, the teen looked at the broker.

"You already took something from there, didn't you?" The half ghost got up and glared. "The seal was already broken."

"I merely counted the win and took my service fee. You still got away with plenty, because very few people were willing to bet on ya. It won't happen again, but the size of winnings themselves will grow as you progress and become more well-known. It also depends on your rank as a villain."

"I am not a villain," Danny commented quietly, as they went towards the exit.

"Do you think the police cares?"

"Maybe not..." the teen looked at the giant who was being taken away by the doctors. "Will he be alright?"

"Huh?" Giran looked where Danny was pointing. "Hell if I know. What did ya do to him anyway to throw him outside so hard?"

"I punched," Phantom shrugged.

The kid really wasn't a villain material, Giran concluded. If he was so genuinely concerned about the guy trying to murder him, what was there to say about people who weren't. It was an interesting case, with how strong the boy's Quirk appeared to be. If the kid ever became a licensed hero, it would be really bad for his business.

"You know, the line between a vigilante and villain is nonexistent to many of policemen. And if they see you around here, or even saving folks up there, you are still a criminal. That's the injustice of this world."

"And you work with both such categories, right?"

"Of course. I don't care who my clients are as long as they are nice to me. I simply repay in kind. Speaking of work, you still up for visiting a workshop? I say you got enough to at least purchase the materials."

"Yeah, let's go there," Danny nodded.

"It's not so far."

-Linebreak-

Meanwhile, in the police department several miles away, Eraserhead appeared, clad in his costume and looking as tired as ever. Just as he had asked the police, they contacted him as soon as there were some findings about the recent case, and he had made haste to come as soon as possible. While at the same time avoiding the crowded places in his usual fashion, he slipped inside the department. Once inside, he was quickly accompanied to the office of the man many heroes around knew. Sitting at the desk before the officer, Eraserhead took a deep sigh. The place wasn't anything special. An office was an office, with its multitude of shelves stacked with files and other documents, the messy desk where the unfinished paperwork rested. It was a painful reminder of another year filled with the same duties for him as well. The entrance exams were going to take place soon, too. 

After several minutes of waiting, the door to the office was open, and another man walked in. There wasn't anything special about his looks, but he was wearing a tan coat usually seen on old fashioned detectives. Tsukauchi was his name.

"I'm glad you could make it here, Eraserhead."

"You said there was something to the case of that electric villain," The hero remained sitting in his spot, his eyes trailing the detective as he sat in front of him.

"I'll be quick. His name is Short Circuit," Tsukauchi said as he dropped a file on the desk.

A fitting moniker, the hero thought sarcastically. Eraserhead unfolded the file, and as he was reading, the officer was giving him a digest.

"His Quirk is Electric charge. The guy's list of felonies is long. Mostly simple assaults. A murder, too. He served his sentence and now he either became smarter or works for someone with a bigger brain. I was originally inclined towards the latter. Now we have a concrete lead. The villain confessed that he was meant to be a distraction. Their group's intention was to steal support items. Coincidentally, one of the warehouses belonging to Detnerat was raided, as I have just been informed. I believe we are dealing with the black market here."

"With the power outage, the villains could break in before reserve generators were turned on."

"Exactly. The company was also willing to share the information they had."

"That's odd for them. It has been a week since the incident, and they are telling this only now."

"Perhaps they wanted to assess the damages first."

"Or contemplated whether or not the information about the raid should be made public," Aizawa finished.

"It seems they chose to share it with us nonetheless. The stolen prosthetics and support items also had trackers on them, it is a special measure against theft. And now we know where the thieves are hiding the stolen property, because Detnerat gave us the location. I ask that you help us in the raid, since you were present there when it started."

Eraserhead nodded. "I'll go."

"There is also that mysterious vigilante. I've asked to look into the registry, and there are some children with invisibility. However, I've also been told that he could, apparently, make objects intangible. There were also the sightings of lasers. He obviously didn't work alone, but we have too little information to draw any definite conclusions. We don't have the resources to ask so many for a case as minor. Even if it is a vigilante."

The hero got up. "Then we will concentrate on what we've got."

"I know you aren't a team player, Eraserhead. And while I don't doubt your ability, some criminals may try to slip past. So we are sending a task force."

Aizawa shrugged. "Do as you wish."

"This also means coming with us."

The hero sighed even heavier than before.

-Linebreak-

"So, this is the one, Giran?"

Danny had been brought to the workshop just as promised. It wasn't that long of a ride, but by the time they reached the master's little abode, it was already nighttime. There, before the teen was standing a strange old man. The master reminded him of a gremlin, Danny decided. Not much from the appearance, as there was nothing unusual about a short person with long white beard. Well, those wielding glasses appeared very goofy. It was mostly because of that energetic aura of a man eager to mingle with something that could potentially explode into their face. It reminded the teen of his neglectful parents somewhat. Perhaps he would be saying the same thing about every engineer happy with their jobs, who knows. They were excitable about what they did, after all.

The workshop was just as the name would imply, and it suited the teen's every expectation. That city was full of empty and disused locations, the half ghost pointed out to his silent amusement. If some hero was to decide and raid every "vacant" warehouse in Musutafu, then the crime world would be doomed. The scale at which the work was conducted was impressive, and Phantom saw several workers toiling over more support items. All of those were handmade, and thus appeared ghastly to look at. Black Market had its downsides. Danny's eyes kept darting from one weird invention to another, piled together without any visible order. The heavy odours of metal and oil kept assaulting his senses.

"Yeah. The newest rising star," Giran said sarcastically. "Kid, meet Tinkerer."

"Sup," Danny raised his hand in a greeting.

"Hm... what a peculiar one," Tinkerer approached the teen, putting on the goggles and jumping off his improvised workdesk. "Why are you glowing?" He asked a blunt question.

"I use the energy my body produces. I can't tell it to stop, so the excess just comes in contact with the air," Danny explained quickly with all the diligence of an excellent student.

"Your voice also echoes," Giran pointed out, leaning against the wall. He hadn't noticed this before for some reason.

"Yeah, same stuff. Sound waves meet the energy particles and get a bit wonky."

"Oh, my. How intriguing," Tinkerer said. "So, what exactly do you want kid? Any ideas?"

"Yes. I actually brought a list," Danny handed the man a sheet of paper. Giran wondered where he had been keeping it.

Tinkerer snatched the list and quickly skimmed over it. Confused, he looked up at the teen.

"Those are just random details, kid. Like... a gas converter? Why do you even need it?"

"Any model will do," said Danny and shrugged. "It's easy to repurpose, really. I watched my parents make that thing, and was tasked to change them from time to time, or our house would have been blown up sky high. I know how it is made."

Tinkerer glanced at Giran. "So you came to buy only the details, eh?"

"The kid is not exactly swimming in money," the broker explained. "I know your services are not cheap."

"True. A master's work should be paid handsomely," a greedy gleam appeared in the engineer's eyes. "Maybe the kid wants to buy something from the newest stash?"

"Newest stash?" Danny tilted his head.

"Yeah. Detnerat is gonna be pissed, but it's all worth it."

"You actually robbed them?!" Giran asked in shock. "You imbecile!"

The outburst stunned both the teen and the master. "They always come for their property, you buffoon!"

"Relax. You think I am actually so dumb that I kept the trackers on?" Tinkerer huffed.

"Detnerat has eyes and ears everywhere in the black market," Giran grumbled. "They trade here themselves, they very much like their monopoly, and they won't need trackers to hunt you down."

Danny observed the exchange with big interest. While he wouldn't mind purchasing some legit tool from a legit company, the trackers were something to be wary of, even if the master claimed to have removed them. And making a corporation angry with him was the last thing Danny wanted. So, he stood up and coughed.

"Listen, guys, you can bicker until your throats dry up, but I need my details. Do you have anything of what I wrote down?"

"We got it all, kid. Hey, runts! Go fetch me everything from that list!"

A worker approached the master, took the list and nodded. Danny sat on a random chair, one of several that were scattered around. He was disinterested in the other's conversation. It was all about their business deals that didn't concern him. Instead, the teen watched the box meant for him being filled with more and more details he could recognise. It wasn't that difficult to know the 'ingredients' for making what he wanted. Danny knew that his parents purchased relatively little, instead opting to salvage broken stuff from the junkyards. So if they used trash to create breakthrough machines, so could he replicate their success. Probably. Danny certainly hoped so, or all of that would be for nothing. From his thoughts he was snapped by the same old man who called him out.

"Say, kid," Tinkerer said. "Are you going to change this stupid costume? I can arrange that, too."

Danny contemplated that for a moment. "I could always add a cape," he joked. "No mask though. I tossed the previous one into a garbage."

"Don't you dare. Capes are for narcissistic morons and those whose Quirk relies on them. Otherwise it is a deathtrap waiting to spring."

Danny actually hadn't seen many heroes or villains around there use any capes. Come to think of it, there weren't any ghostly adversaries of his that wore capes. Except maybe Danny's main foe. While Plasmius's powers did not rely on a cape, he most certainly was a narcissistic frootloop. There was also Danny himself. Or, rather, what he was fated to become at some point. But since that man was an amalgamation of Danny's and Vlad's ghost parts, he probably took after the latter when it came to bloated self-esteem. It wouldn't stop that terrible fate from haunting his dreams in the future, but it was an amusing thing to consider.

The half ghost leaned back in his chair. "No, I don't think changing the entire costume is a priority for me. I'm a bit attached to this one."

Both literally and figuratively. The suit was but an ectoplasmic puddle that assumed the shape, is all. That's why built-in upgrades were out of question.

"He even made a logo for himself," Giran laughed. "Now that's cute."

Danny chose not to comment on that sensitive part. It was too personal for him. The teen just rewarded the broker with a minor glare, before looking at the box with supplies that was placed on the desk. Tinkerer started examining the contents and checking with the list. Once again the teen was surprised by the diligence of the local societal lows.

"Let's see here... yep, everything seems to be in order. Now it is your turn, kid. That will cost you fifty thousand."

By the teen's face it was easy to guess how crestfallen he must have been feeling. That purchase left the teen with nothing, while he had hoped for a nice dinner. Knowing that it was best not to argue for a better price, Danny mutely paid up. Giran cackled at seeing the boy so painfully spending his winnings.

"Cheer up, kid," the broker patted Danny on the back. "It is a one time purchase. There will be more money where these came from," he said and tapped on the pile of yen bills. "I suggest you find a way to transport all this stuff."

"I don't suppose you sell gift wrappers? I'd like it to be blue," Danny sarcastically asked Tinkerer.

"No can do, sorry, boyo..."

"Boss!" One of the workers shouted. This one had run out of some adjacent room without taking off the headphones. "We've got trouble!"

"Lemme guess," Giran smirked coldly. "You got found out."

"What he says! There is a task force moving our way! They will be here soon!"

"Damn it all!" Tinkerer yelled. "Just as we practiced, everyone! Go!"

The entire workshop was consumed by a unique form of organised chaos. Everything that wasn't nailed to the ground was quickly moved somewhere, and Danny had no idea where they were going to hide their items and details. He had no time to think about it. If he was caught by the police, it all would be over. The teen glanced to his side and saw that Giran was already gone. Of course. You don't make it high in the underworld without an innate ability to skedaddle at the first sign of trouble. Danny scooped the box in his hands and closed it by using some sticky ectoplasmic goo his finger released. Turning invisible alongside the loudly  rattling box, the teen ran towards a wall and phased through it. He softly landed outside and started to run away from the occupied warehouse. Danny was about to take flight, but then felt something hitting him on the back.

Out of shock, the teen fell forward, the box falling out of his hands. He himself dropped invisibility, losing the required concentration. Spinning around on his back, Danny regretted having discarded the sleeping mask. For now he was faced with the same tired hero from a week ago. Danny felt a lump in his throat, and the man was the first to speak.

"You were making too much noise," he answered the question that was hanging in the air.

Eraserhead was not happy confronting a child, especially the one who looked so shocked and scared. But that was a criminal like all others. Once Danny regained his confidence, and the initial feelings were replaced by the determination to get the hell out of there, the man's last reservations were gone. He could see that the boy searched for an opening.

"Can I get up?" Danny asked.

"No."

The hero activated his Erasure Quirk, his eyes starting to glow with crimson colour. The next split second he launched the ends of his scarf right at him. Luckily, it wasn't Danny's first time seeing the man. The teen dodged the attacks with an impressive speed. But his attention was also focused on the box with supplies, which the man did notice. Then, Danny decided to risk it, maybe it could work, and fired a shot right from his own green eyes. He didn't aim for the hero's head, but a little to the side. So. The man could not cancel his power. The sudden display of power presented just enough of a one-second shock for the teen to act. Danny lunged for the box, but Aizawa snapped out of it quickly enough to throw his scarf at it. The boy could dodge the strikes. His prized possession could not. Eraserhead pulled the box towards himself, allowing himself to blink. The Quirk was useless here anyhow. Danny stood where he used to, his face exasperated.

"Come on, man. I worked hard to get this stuff. I swear I wasn't planning anything bad with it."

"You will tell this before the court."

Danny could hear the police cars approaching. So that guy was a vanguard attacker.

"Look, there are others there. And they are running away with even more goods. I don't want to fight you, you don't want them to escape, so how about we just go on our ways?"

"Or I tie you up and then go after the others."

"Not happening," Danny responded firmly. He wasn't leaving without the supplies he sacrificed so much for. "At least tell the police."

"Why are you so adamant that I catch them?"

"You came after them, right? It will be a waste capturing just me."

Eraserhead narrowed his eyes, pressing a button on his earpiece. Danny did not move while he was distracted, if only for a moment. The boy was genuinely angry with others for ditching him like that, as well as getting him into that mess. Removed trackers, his ass. Danny felt glad that he didn't buy any of the stolen properties, then. And if the police saw the boy's face, then he would go down with those bastards. After Eraserhead informed the cops, he turned his attention to the boy in front of him. As many had pointed out before, it was a very low-grade suit he was wearing. The visibly malnourished boy also didn't strike him as a villain. Petty thief? Yes. Villain capable of something worse? Not really. The hero sighed.

"Listen, kid. Just surrender. The police will be more lenient this way."

"How do I know? I don't need any trouble."

"You should have thought about it before doing all that. Do you want the wanted posters with your face in every department? If it really is something minor, then you have nothing to worry about."

On one hand, Eraserhead was right. Danny's box was filled with very inconspicuous and random stuff, not anything illegal. But on the other, if they caught Giran, he would tell everything about the pit fights too, which would worsen his chances significantly. Danny's face was already seen. It was just like before, when he was always at the wrong place at the wrong time. The small list of presumed offences was enough to label him as a criminal back home. That man was giving Danny a chance to explain himself. And honestly, the teen would be a fool not to use that opportunity. At least that way there was a chance, there was also an opportunity to bolt out if something happened. He could try and kill that hero, but no way in hell was he going to do that.

"Alright," the teen raised his hands, seeing a couple of police cars pull up. "I surrender."

His peaceful life didn't last for long.