MHA: A Cat's Way (Ch 62) (Patreon)

I manage to make it to the safehouse without any issues, easily avoiding the few people still awake to wander the streets this late at night. People really underestimate just how much fun it is to jump across rooftops.

Anyways, now that I’m in costume I head out, making my way to the general direction of the Masquerade. If I don’t come across any good hunting opportunities, at least I won’t have to travel from all the way across the city. Though given the distance I’d only have enough time to do a single fight before I need to head back to UA. Can’t let it be known that I snuck out to act as a vigilante by missing class. Again.

While I travel my mind wanders back to Midorinya and what he was asking me. I didn’t get the whole thing, but I’m pretty sure it was something about grabbing a bite to eat. Did he hear about some new restaurant? Or is something new trending that he wanted to try?

Eh, I’ll apologize to him tomorrow and ask about it. Check it out and go if it looks good. Maybe I could Invite Minya and Tormew…

I hear a sound as I pass over yet another random alley, prompting me to stop and turn around. Peering over the edge of the building I see a man mugging a suspiciously well-dressed woman at knife-point. An oddly common scenario given just how idiotic it is to look at.

I mean, why would a woman clearly dressed like she comes from money be awake so late at night? Or rather, why would she be walking around at night instead of driving? And in heels? Utterly ridiculous.

That’s not even mentioning why they would suddenly decide, “You know what sounds like a good idea? Walking through this overly dark alley out of sight from the streets, where a majority of heroes tend not to patrol.”

Honestly I’m always tempted to let these people get robbed in the hopes of them learning a gods-nya’d lesson. But, like now, for whatever reason I decide that I’ll still help them. I’ll let them get a little trauma first, but still help them.

So as the random thug I’ve nicknamed ‘Little Thug’ yanks what I think is a designer brand purse out of the woman’s hands, I drop down on top of him, letting my weight bear him to the ground as I grab his head. Timing it juuust right I shove forward, causing his head to hit the floor with a decent amount of our combined weight. After getting that satisfying *crack* of a skull hitting cement his body goes limp.

I hop off and with a quick swipe toss it towards the gobsmacked woman. Who flinches back as it smacks her in the face, making me sigh. “Mew were supposed to catch it, mew know.”

And with those words of wisdom I scamper up the side of the building and onto the roof to resume my journey. “Huh,” I muse, “I’m not really in a killing mood, nya. Guess that puff of catnip did mrow than I thought ti clawm me down.”

Obviously I didn’t come out with my mind clouded by rage and bloodlust. That’s just asking for trouble. Or worse, getting caught. So I lit up just a smidge of catnip before I came out. Not even an ounce! I’m perfectly in control of all my facilities!

So why exactly am I looking down at a bank robbery without doing anything? Well, that’s because the person doing it is someone I didn’t think I would see robbing a bank.

The internet star (not really) boldly walks out the front doors of the bank holding duffel bags full of money. He looks at the alley directly across from him, and starts to speak. Or rather, monologue.

“As you can see, my loyal viewers, it is a simple matter to abscond with quite the sizable sum of cash. Why, it wasn’t even a bother to remove the dye packs they’d hoped to use in order to track any money stolen!”

He shakes his head. “And where are the heroes? Why, asleep in their beds! Which is exactly where I shall be heading! So long, and good night my fellows!”

He pauses for a moment then claps his hands, dropping the money as an excited squeal echoes out. “That was amazing, Gentle! The heroes didn’t even show up to interrupt us!”

The man known as Gentle Criminal nods as a little girl, who’s eyebags make me question just how large Mr. Aizawa’s family is walks out. “Indeed, La Brava. Though I do worry that the lack of, say, excitement shall not draw a large quantity of views.”

Before the girl can reply my voice drifts down from above, causing the duo to jump. “I’m sure that I can purrovide any excitement you kneed~.”

I drop into a crouch in front of them, meeting the fancily dressed individual’s eyes. And judging by the way those eyes widen, they recognize me.

“You are one of the Cat-aclysm girls!”

“...Nya?” I tily my head in confusion and he clarifies.

“It is well known that the name of ‘Cat-aclysm’ is held by more than a single individual. The one who utilizes a form of armor in the shape of a cat,” he gives a small bow, “and yourself, who fights hand-to-hand utilizing only your claws.”

The girl pipes up. “There’s even been talk online about how Cat-aclysm is the name of a group instead of a person!”

“... Again, nya the nya?” I shake my head in disbelief. People think that there’s multiple of me…? I…guess that sort of makes sense? It would explain why people I’ve met either outside or inside the Masquerade and they’ve acted like they didn’t know me when the opposite occurs. Doesn’t explain how that happened, but explains the reactions.

But that’s something to think about later. For now, I’ve been presented with a unique opportunity…

“Can I have your autograph, nya?” I pull out a marker and a spare mask, holding both out to him.

He blinks at me blankly for a moment while the girl’s eyes narrow before smiling. “Of course! Am I correct in assuming that you are a fan of our videos then?”

I nod while he signs and the girl’s expression morphs into a smile. After pocketing the now signed mask -which I’ll hang next to my own signed stuff in my room- I clear my throat. “Mrow that the pleasantries are out of the way-”

My eyes narrow and my claws pop out. “Care to explain why you have a kitten helping you with your work?”

They’re taken aback by my sudden aggression, sharing confused looks before looking back at me. “”Kitten?”” They ask.

“Kittens, kids.”

Now the girl looks offended and starts throwing her fists in the air. “Who you calling a kid you brat! I’ll have you know I’m twenty-one!”

I shoot her a doubtful look, but Gentle Criminal assures me that the girl, who’s name is apparently La Brava, is telling the truth. “I’d never involve any young ones in my dastardly plots! I am a villain of morals, as I’m sure you would know if you have viewed our videos!”

I nod with a sigh, my tail calming down from its previously puffy state. “You’re right, I’m just a bit appurrhensive after learning about a certain situation.”

“Hmm.” He hums, gripping his chin in thought while the short woman pulls at his other hand.

“Come on Gentle, let’s leave the judgy girl behind.”

She doesn’t have the strength to force him to move, as he clearly wants to remain. After apparently coming to some sort of conclusion, his head shoots up and his glare meets my curious eyes. “If your reputation is as honest as I believe it to be, then that must mean that someone within your domain has taken up that foul practice.”

I scowl, nodding the affirmative. He continues. “If you’d like, the two of us would be happy to help you, eh, ‘clean house’, as it were.”

“But Gentle-!” La Brava objects only for Gentle Criminal to crouch and place a finger on her lips.

“Shush, La Brava. You are aware of the lines we refuse to cross, and as such it is our duty to punish those who do.”

She nods rapidly. “I know that! But we should still find out more about this before saying we’ll help! What if it’s a trap?”

I shake my head, seriously considering his offer. It’s unexpected, but it’s also a chance to put Nezu’s intentions to the test without endangering anyone from the Cult…

“Before I meow, why do videos of what mew do?” I’ve always been curious. Even the things they do that don’t have aspects of vigilantism to them they post. If they kept it to only those, then there’d be a bigger chance that people would fight to have their videos remain on sites. But since they also include the blatantly criminal ones, they lack that support.

Hearing my question, Gentle Criminal preens. “Why, to be remembered of course!” I blink, not understanding. “It is the lowest point, to leave behind nothing. But even should you die having accomplished a number of achievements, constructed a vast legacy for all to admire - what does it matter if you are not remembered for it?”

He shakes his head. “That is what I wish to achieve. A legacy that people shall look to and say, “Gentle Criminal accomplished that.”  I will not be forgotten.”

‘His desire is plain,’, many would say. ‘Everyone wants to be remembered’, they’d argue. And they’d be  right, to a certain extent. But what they fail to consider is this man’s conviction. He has the strength of will to stand up to those same nay-sayers. To say, ‘So what? I’ll achieve my dream no matter what you all think.’

It's admirable. So I make him the offer.

“There’s a meeting in a couple days, nya. If you give me your number I can meowssage you mrow details when I have them.”

He does so and I smirk at him as I turn away. Leaving him blinking dumbly with the words that trail behind me as I climb once again. “The heroes will be looking furword to working with you.”