Author's Note: Hey all, well those of you that still have interest in this little shamble of a story, I'm back. Sorry I've taken so long to update this, I just got really caught up in life and school and had no time to write. If any of you are fans of my other story, Ashes, I'll be updating that when I can.

I'm ditching any plot in this story, of course some stories my connect, but I always wanted this story to be odd, confusing and nonlinear, like Ace himself, we'll see what happens to our other friends at a later date!

Now then, onward to the story!

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Chapter 9: Double Trouble

Deep in the heart of the slums of Tokyo, a group of men sat in an old run down apartment complex. The place had been abandoned for years but nobody was willing to fork up the cash to have it demoed, which made it the perfect hideout for a particular group of men. The men mulled about, sitting on worn out sofas, chairs or tipped over tables, all laying in the once courtyard of the apartments, now overrun with weeds and littered with thrown furniture. A TV flickered idly in the corner, newswoman broadcasting the latest breaking news.

"Police can now conform the presence of the quirked terrorist known as Ace in today's bank robbery. The masked criminal is suspected of dozens of counts of murder over the past few months, seemingly at random. The terrorist and his associates are still at large, and police are advising that citizens lock their doors and stay at home during the ni-"

The TV blackened with a click as a familiar suited man tossed the remote beside him on the worn down couch made of some hideous fabric not even a grandmother could love. The white-suited man stretched with a yawn, tipping his top hat over his eyes, ready to sleep. It was at this moment one of the other men, a scraggly and weak looking man, chose to speak up.

"H-hey boss?"

The man fired back with a harsh and deep voice, "What is it Chihiro?"

The scrawny man sputtered, instantly becoming frightened after drawing his superior's attention.

"Well? Spit it out dammit!"

Chihiro raised his hands in defense.

"W-well do you really think it was a good idea to use Ace's identity to pull of this heist?"

The impostor gave a hearty laugh, walking over and patting his timid partner in crime on the back and told him, "Chihiro, what did I tell you? There is no such thing as Ace, he's just a lie the government spread to keep people scared and make quirked people look bad. Besides even if he was real, I''m unstoppable!" the man laughed.

Chihiro gave a nervous chuckle while the rest of the men voiced their agreement with the boss. The man himself again reveled in the events of earlier that day, being blessed with a gravity manipulation quirk, he effortlessly deflected the bullets of the police shooting at them as they made their getaway. Sure, he was the only quirked one out of the bunch, but that only made them respect him more. One of the other men laughed. "Guess we didn't need that eh?" he said gesturing to a large chain fed machine gun sitting on a decaying wooden table, still loaded.

The boss laughed, and in a moment of joy he cheered, "Drinks on me boys!"

His cheer was met with silence. The man looked around, seeing none of his men had moved, or even blinked.

"...Boys?"

The now concerned crime boss looked at his men worriedly. He approached the still form of Chihiro, who despite his timid nature, had not moved an inch. The lone animate man cautiously extended his hand. "Chihir-AHH FUCK" the man jumped back, as when his hand made contact with Chihiro, he collapsed into finely diced bits of meat. He looked around, wondering how in the hell this happened. Suddenly the air was filled with a chuckle that carried a playful tone, but something in it made the man's bones freeze. He spun around, his eyes landing on a lone figure, leaning on the empty door way where a door had rotted off its hinges. He recognized the outfit instantly, he had spent so long recreating it that he couldn't forget. He stood frozen, his mind drawing a blank. He could feel the eyes of the newcomer stare at him endlessly, the light of his eyes tearing through the boss's very soul. He could feel the playful smirk under the new stranger's balaclava, but something in him told to him to run. After a long inner struggle, he managed to suppress the urge. The boss spoke, hiding the unease in his voice rather well, "Who the hell are you? What the fuck did you do to them?!"

Ace looked the man up and down before replying. "Huh, based on your outfit I thought you were a fan, cosplayer maybe? And here I was getting my hopes up... Ah, anyways, did you know that a chicken can run up to the length of a football field without its head?"

"What?" the Ace impostor asked in confusion.

"Crazy right? One even lived eighteen months without it, and to think they decided to name it Mike of all things, poor thing probably wished it could die with a name like that, and it can't even speak! Now where was I?" Ace asked the still form of one of the men, who was casually perched on a table. After a moment he turned a way and continued. "Oh that's right! Your friends! Anyways, my friend, my point is that..." Ace paused, reaching behind him and drawing his bejeweled walking stick, tapping one of the corpses with the overly large, fist-sized diamond at the end, causing it to crumble, "sometimes death happens so quickly that the body doesn't even realize it's dead, fascinating right?"

"You... you're sick!"

"If fun is a disease then put me in a coffin my friend!"

"You'll pay for this bastard!" the man said, using his quirk to toss a table at Ace. Without missing a beat, Ace separated his walking stick, cutting the table in half with a sweep of the blade, the decaying table splintering with a loud crash as its parts hit the ground. Ace casually walked towards the man, humming a happy tune. The impostor then launched the couch he once sat on at the masked magician, hitting him square in the chest, Ace letting out a loud grunt as it hit him. The couch slammed against the wall of the courtyard with a loud bang, then clattered to the ground, Ace no longer anywhere to be seen. Ace coughed violently from behind the couch. "That-" Ace coughed again, "That hurt like a bitch, have you considered being a pitcher? Maybe a quarterback?"

Still unable to see Ace and not taking any chances, the fraud in the suit ran to the machine gun still sitting on the table. He grabbed the gun and shouting "EAT THIS!" he opened fire, not stopping until the entire belt was empty. He breathed a sigh of relief as he looked at the bullet-torn couch, muttering to himself, "There's no way he could have survived tha-"

Suddenly Ace sprung up from behind the couch with a flip, landing precariously on the top of he bullet torn furniture and exclaiming, "Ta-daaaaa!" throwing his arms outwards.

The criminal dropped his gun in shock, he tried to form words, but only one question came out, "Ha... how? How did you survive that?"

Ace put a hand under his chin, thinking of the words to use before replying, "You know when a magician locks himself in a box and then has his assistant put a bunch of swords in it? It's like that except with bullets and a really REALLY ugly couch, honestly think it looks better since you shot it up-"

"SHUT UP DAMMIT!" The man yelled in a sudden fit of rage as he tried to use his quirk on Ace directly, wanting to crush him like a soda can under a boot, only to find he was unable to. He looked down at his hands in shock, muttering, "What the hell?" repeatedly before he turned his eyes back to Ace, only to find him missing. "Where the h-"

The man felt himself be suddenly jerked in a full 180, before feeling a sharp blow to his jaw, sending him falling to the ground, face up. He felt the warm trickle of his own blood run down his chin.

"Huh." Ace contemplated, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping the blood off his pristine white leather gloves, then drawing his ornately decorated revolver and holding it at his side a moment.

"Fine, I guess I'll just have to go easy on you." the magician muttered, aiming his revolver at the man on the ground and drawing back the hammer.

"Now then," Ace started, "I'm going to shoot on the count of three, and lets see if you can block it okay?"

The once proud crime boss nodded numbly, focusing his energy on redirecting the bullet that was to come.

"Okay, ready? One... two... three!" Ace shot, and despite the prone man's best efforts, the bullet hit him square in the chest. He sputtered, trying to form words, but the blood filling his mouth ensured he couldn't. Ace put a finger over his mouth, shushing him. "Don't speak," Ace said quietly, "the time for words has passed." Ace stood, aiming his revolver at the bleeding man, this time at his head.

"You know I remember hearing that imitation is the highest form of flattery, but honestly I find this pretty insulting." Ace said, chuckling slightly

And without another word, the trigger was unceremoniously pulled, and the corpse of the once accomplished criminal fell to the ground with a thud. Ace put his revolver back in his suit and began to walk away before seeing a sizable bag of money. 'Oh! Don't mind if I do!" Ace exclaimed, picking up the bag. In the distance he could hear the faint sound of police sirens.

"Hm, time for me to go."

And with that, the masked magician disappeared into the night.

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Author's Note: Yeah... I got nothing, short chapter but I'm getting back into things. I hope you all enjoyed it though! See you whenever I decide to update this again...