AN: Not going to lie this idea just came to me today and I thought it was amusing. As such, considering I am currently stuck on my the current update I'm working on, I thought I would put it out. Just to see what people think. As you might have guessed it is a One Punch Man/ My Hero Academia crossover, not unique yes, but this one is focused on a less used character and not Saitama or Garou. It also isn't a crack-fic, as honestly I can't stand them.

That said this might amount to nothing, it didn't take me long and thus it might just be placed on the ever growing pile of story ideas I didn't follow through. Either way it was an amusing distraction for my whilst I ironed out the timeline issues with my current update for the Last King, which should be out probably on monday.

Disclaimer: I do not own My Hero Academia or One Punch Man.

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Chapter 1: The Prologue

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He could win this fight, he was confident on that.

That said, this foe, it was not the usual type he dealt with.

The type of monster he usual battle, fought head on, and in physical combat. They were the type that were happy to go blow to blow, and test their mettle against him.

This monster however, was not like the other ones he had faced. Instead of outright attacking it used speed, and guile and its annoying warping ability to dart around the area and attack him from all angles. Slashing at his back, cutting at his hamstrings, impaling him through his torso.

Its movements were too quick, and too unpredictable.

Every time it reappeared he only just managed to turn and face it, before it attacked him and disappeared again before he could properly counterattack.

Hit and run tactics, that's what it was trying to do.

Slowly wear him down.

A death from a thousand cuts.

It was clever.

But it wouldn't work.

As such they were currently in a stalemate.

He wasn't fast enough to catch the monster, and yet the monster wasn't strong enough to deliver a debilitating blow to finish him. Or at least not a debilitating blow that he couldn't heal up in a few seconds.

His regenerative abilities were such that he could heal a pair of broken arms in a moment, or regrow his entire body from just his head in a matter of minutes.

It was a broken ability, one that defied reason or logic.

Unfortunately though, his physical capabilities didn't quite match up to his regenerative ones.

He was far stronger, faster and more durable than the average human, but lacked the punch and power of his fellow S-Class heroes. In fact he, and several others, would say he was the weakest of them in terms of pure attacking power.

In terms of capability and effectiveness though?

Well the fact he was ranked eighth among the seventeen other S-Class heroes was evidence enough of just how strong he was, in the abstract sense, when compared to his fellow heroes.

Still though, that didn't matter at the moment. Not when the foe he was currently fighting wouldn't stay still, with it instead darting and zipping about the area, a pair of curved blades in both hands as it hacked, slashed and cut away at him with abandon.

Gripping the haft of his bearded axe tighter, his red eyes scanned the area.

It was a built up, prosperous looking district in city C.

Looking around the now empty streets, the finger of his other hand hovered over the trigger of his Desert Eagle as he tried to predict where his beastly opponent would come out next.

"Too slow!" The monster. A spindly, gangly, skeletal creature, with a beaked crow like head and a pair of curved blades in both claw like hands, cawed. Its pure black eyes flashing with menace, even as he automatically swung his axe around to behead it. Only for his own blood to spray into the air moments later, as the bird slashed a great gaping wound into his belly, before it then yet again disappeared.

The air around it rippling momentarily before it warped away.

"Too slow!" It cawed again. This time appearing to his left, within his guard as it did so, its eyes once again gleaming with wicked intent as it rammed one of its curved blades into his side, and up to the hilt.

Spitting out a mouthful of crimson blood he swung his axe around again, once again missing as the bird like monster wrenched its blade out of him and disappeared. Only this time he fired off his gun too, shooting a heavy slug at the empty space directly behind him, in the hope of potentially hitting his tricky foe, just in case it warped there next.

"Too slow, too slow!" The monster cackled gleefully, reappearing this time on the top of a nearby lamp post. Its spindly black legs bent, and its bloodied, curved blades held casually at its sides. The creature's dark eyes gazing mocking down at him from its perch.

"Can you really not say anything else?" He queried politely back at the creature, his lip curling up slightly in distaste as he felt the sticky, drying blood, his blood, on his ruined shirt and coat.

He was not in pain, nor was injured anymore. His regeneration has seen to that. But he was decidedly uncomfortable in his sticky, ripped and ragged clothing.

This was turning into a battle of attrition.

He could go on for hours and hours. In fact he had had much harder fights before now that had lasted well over a hundred hours, during which he would take hundreds of wounds, each and every one capable of killing a regular human, only to then turn out the victor as he waited for the monster fighting him to tire enough for him to put an end to it.

The same would probably be true of this battle. He would either wait until the bird monster tired itself out, and became slow enough, or predictable enough for him to catch and kill it.

Or the monster itself would get bored and leave, which although not ideal, would at least keep the people of this suburb safe. After which hopefully one of the other S-Class heroes, or maybe even an A-Class one, would come across the monster and kill it.

Ideally he would prefer to be the one to kill it. Not just because he wanted to see the pretty flowers its blood would make when he spilled rivers of it across the street, but also because its rude and juvenile antics had irked him.

His expensive, custom made trench coat was little more than bloody rags now, as to was the rest of his apparel.

Raising his Desert Eagle, he shot off another slug at the cackling monster. It was futile he already knew, even as the bird monster warped away, but it would at least get it moving again.

Looking down at the heavy duty gun in his hand, even as he felt the monster momentarily reappear behind him and slash one of its blade through his spine, he could only sigh at the waste of expensive ammo.

Still needs must, he thought to himself. His severed vertebrae sealing back together moments after the wound had been inflicted.

Taking a few steps forward, he hacked and slashed at the air around him, his red eyes narrowed as the bird monster disappeared and reappeared all over the area. With it occasionally darting in and getting a good hit or slash in, after which it would always manage to escape his reactionary attacks.

That is until this moment, where once again the bird monster warped away, and he turned and fired a shot off directly behind him. Only this one, unlike the others, managed to land a hit, the shot glancing off the bird monster's spindly right arm with a spray of blood as it appeared just off to the side of the place where he had fired. The droplets of black blood spattering down on the asphalt behind it, creating dark fetid flowers of putrid blood on the cracked and damaged road.

Scowling at this, he lunged forward with his bearded axe. His movement's swift, far faster than a normal humans, as he tried to decapitate the monster whilst it was still reeling. His inhuman mind moving at lightning speeds as he attempted to predict what the monster would do next.

"You hit me!" The bird monster cawed, its black eyes widening with shock for a moment. Locking onto his axe blade as it scythed through the air towards it.

"Yes," He replied, not a hint of emotion in his voice as the blade continued its path.

In response the bird let out a shriek of fury and lunged forward, the haft of his axe slamming into its neck with a sickening crunch. The air around it rippling and its claw like hands, now empty of the curved blades, digging into his shoulders. Crimson blood spewing out of the puncture wounds, even as the monster let out a gargled scream, a death rattle. The air around both him and the monster rippling as its momentum forced its dying body to slam into him. "Die!"

Falling backwards, the creature's dying words echoing in his ears and the creatures claws still digging into his shoulders, he could only think on the irony of those words as darkness suddenly, and unexpectedly, consumed him. The air around him constricting his body, giving off the sensation that he likened to something being sucked through a narrow straw.

He couldn't die.

Or rather he couldn't stay dead.

Many times before now he had been 'killed', but every time he was dealt wounds which could kill a hundred normal people, he would awaken, fully healed and 'alive'.

It was how he had gotten his moniker, his Hero alias, his name, Zombieman.

He could not die.

Falling back through the dark void, his red eyes shut as he felt his body ripping and tearing, Zombieman waited to see what would happen.

Had the bird monster, as a final act of spite, teleported him into space? Was that why he couldn't breathe at the moment?

Or maybe, he had been teleported into the very depths of the ocean, and the sensation of his body being ripped and torn to pieces was due to the immense pressure that was being put on it at this very moment.

Would this be enough to finish him?

He didn't think so, but then again was being crushed to death at the bottom of the ocean, or drifting through space unable to breathe, speak, hear, taste, touch or anything really, truly living?

It was an interesting thought.

Unfortunately before he could ponder any further on this issue, the pressure and darkness around him vanished, and light suddenly flooded his vision.

He was falling, and he was in momentary agony.

Forcing his crimson eyes open, Zombieman saw an expansive city spreading out beneath him. A metropolis of skyscrapers and high-rise flats.

He could see thousands of vehicles, that looked to be the size of ants from where he was, moving and shifting about. Everyday people going about with their everyday lives.

It was quaint.

The air rushed around him with a thunderous roar, ripping what little, bloody ragged clothing he still had on him, off of his pallid grey form. Whatever wounds and lacerations he had received during the bird monster's last petty act of revenge having already healed by this point, as he continued hurtle through the air, gravity having well and truly taken a hold of him by this point.

Next to him he could see the dead body of the bird monster falling alongside him, its long spindly arms and legs thrashing around it uselessly in the wind.

It looked like macabre and very ugly doll.

Glancing sideways at the dead creature, Zombieman's expression remained calm and passive as he saw the body suddenly get pulled away from him as they continued to descend and passed by the penthouse apartments and rooftops of the largest skyscrapers. The wind circulating around the city's tower blocks, tugging his erstwhile foe's body off to who knows where.

Keeping his watering eyes open as the wind continued to rush passed his plummeting form, his arms and legs spread as he attempted to stabilise himself, Zombieman continued to scan the city with placid, calm crimson orbs.

He didn't know which city this was.

Not that it mattered.

Once he hit the tarmac and then reconstituted himself he could make his way to his nearest safe house and pick up a fresh set of clothes and rearm himself.

Over his many years of life he had acquired quite a few in each city. A necessity considering the sheer amount of collateral damaged caused by monsters and heroes fighting in each city every other week, and the wear and tear he put his own gear through whilst engaging in such fights.

On top of which he had had to be prepared. After all, as sad as it was to say, but this was not the first time he had found himself plummeting through the air to land in a messy, bloody heap, bereft of clothing and equipment.

It had happened at least twice before.

Letting out a sigh at just how fucked up his life was, Zombieman looked straight ahead again, his red eyes fixed on the rapidly approaching road beneath him.

At least I won't be going through some poor person's home this time, he sighed to himself. Ignoring the screams of shock he could hear as people down below noticed his plight, some of them crying for 'a hero to save him.'

"Oh the irony." Zombieman muttered to himself, a slight smile on his face, even as he hit the ground moments later with a sickening crunch and a wet splat.

The asphalt below cracking and shattering, and veritable geyser of blood, guts, and broken bones exploded forth from his point of impact. A sea of crimson blood and offal drenching the startled, and soon to be traumatised people around him, even as his vision once again went black.

This landing was even messier than his other ones.

It would probably take him at least three or so minutes to regenerate from this one.

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AN: So yeah, what do you think? I'll be honest, the idea intrigues me, after all Zombieman isn't your everyday hero. He doesn't have the flashy powers or gimmicks of most heroes, both in OPM and BNHA. On top of which he uses mundane tools a lot, ironically ones that would be mainly used in case of a zombie apocalypse; axes, machetes and guns.

Suffice to say he isn't your everyday hero, on top of which he had a complex, nihilistic personality, which is especially odd for a hero who tries to save people. Which is to say, the character is interesting, and as far as I know, not often used, so yup. Thought I would play around with the idea.

Hope you enjoyed, if not, ah well you can't make everyone happy.

Thanks for reading.

Greed720.