The Gold Dragon
Chapter 1: Luccione
Luccione strode along the busy streets of Osaka, the crowd parting around his slender form. He wore an immaculate white suit, his long silver hair, golden eyes, and tall frame standing out starkly amidst the urban crush. Activating his quirk, Visions of Greed, he extended his perceptions into the minds around him.
As always, a litany of banal thoughts and mundane wants flooded his senses. A salaryman lamented his long hours...a housewife debated fashion options...a student dreamed of popularity and success. Luccione's lip curled faintly. How depressing. This world had enslaved them all within a wheel of false pleasures. It was a wheel he wished to break one day. All of them were bent over and society was a giant- "Hot dog! Wieners! These are the best franks in Osaka!" A passing hotdog vendor yelled as Luccione strolled passed. He cared not for food, although a distraction before his meeting with the Night Parade might be nice.
He further extended his quirk. It was his curse to witness the sins of these hollow men and women, beings of base appetites. Even as a child, his quirk had granted unwanted insight into humanity's sordid nature. He had retreated into aloof contemplation, seeking refuge from his fellow man's base appetites. Perhaps that was why he gravitated toward Midas and his games of chaos. Anything to puncture the smothering ennui.
A flash of vivid crimson desire caught his attention. There, in the crowd - a balding, middle-aged man. His thoughts swirled around murder...no, tsuma-goroshi. Luccione focused his perceptions, curious. Ah, an insurance plot. The man's wife was quite successful while he languished drunkenly in her shadow. He aimed to kill her, make it look accidental, and seize her assets. Trite, but convenient.
He discreetly followed the scheming husband through Osaka's winding streets, allowing the man's chaotic thoughts to guide him. How readily this hollow soul embraces his base impulses when tempted. The man plans to run away with his new younger mistress after the crime. Human nature never failed to disgust.
Eventually they came to an upscale residential district. The man walked groggily to a modern house and entered using a key. Sensing his malicious intent spike, Luccione glided noiselessly by the door.
Within the genkan, the man retrieved a chef's knife from his coat. Gripping the blade tightly, he moved further into the house. Luccione observed the scene with faint amusement. What next? The man hesistated. Luccione frowned and prodded his psyche subtly. "Do it now...claim what is yours..." At his urging, the man's steps quickened. His desire to kill guttered like a bloody flame.
The wide-eyed woman looked up from her laptop as her husband entered the living room with the knife held up. She smiled pleasantly despite his deranged expression. "Dear, you're home early-" She screamed and crawled away on the floor as her husband stalked towards her. She froze. Her gaze grew distant...then piercing. Her panic interrupted by Luccione insinuating himself into her thoughts. He guided her limbs even as he froze the husband's body temporarily. "The knife...grab it..."
Compelled by Luccione's power, the woman seized the blade from her husband's rigid hand. Without hesitation, she buried it in his heart with a savage twist. The man choked wetly as he crumpled to the floor, eyes bulging. Blood pooled beneath his convulsing form. The woman stared down, knife clutched in her trembling hand. As Luccione withdrew, her abstraction dissolved into soul-deep horror. "W-what!? Tomo!! OH GOD! No!" She collapsed, clutching his cooling body as great wracking sobs overtook her.
The woman lifted her head slowly, eyes overflowing with anguish. ""W-why? Why did I..." She choked on the words, face pale with shock.
Luccione emerged from the shadows. "My dear, do not weep. Would you rather he had killed you? I simply could not allow such a betrayal." Luccione replied calmly. "I simply raised your base instincts to defend yourself. I spared your life by guiding your hand."
The woman lifted her head, eyes wet with anguish. "You...you made me..." She choked on the words. "I loved him. Despite it all, I loved him." Her body trembled with grief.
Luccione tutted softly. "Love? My good woman. It blinded you to his wretched nature." He nudged the cooling corpse with one polished shoe, lip curling in disgust. "When you extend such gifts to serpents, is it any wonder when they turn and strike?" Luccione gestured theatrically around them. "This is the truth of mankind, my dear. Love is but a pleasant fiction."
He turned away, paying no heed to the woman's ragged sobs as she shakily pulled out her phone. Minutes later, the wail of approaching sirens echoed down vacant streets. Luccione strolled on, mirage-like, disappearing into the urban labyrinth beneath the setting sun.
Chapter 2: The Meeting
The pounding music pulsed through the darkness, flashing lights sporadically illuminating the mass of bodies packed onto the dancefloor. Luccione picked his way through the revelers, lips curled in faint distaste at the debauched displays surrounding him. He sidestepped a pair of scantily clad women who stumbled past, reeking of sickly sweet cocktails. One trailed her fingers along his arm, giving him a sultry look. "Wanna have some fun, handsome?" she slurred.
He extracted himself coldly. "I think not." The woman blinked in confusion as he brushed past. His words were wasted on her drink-addled mind.
This den of hedonism was no place for a man of Luccione's noble heritage. Yet here he was, deigning to meet the all-mighty Midas. Luccione chafed at being summoned like a common thug. However, he could not deny his curiosity about what scheme Midas was concocting that required his particular talents. Midas had cultivated a fearsome reputation in Japan's underworld over the past years. His brazen attacks and dramatic acts of public chaos had made him an object of fascination for Luccione, and he harbored a grudging respect for the man's audaciousness in directly challenging the established powers.
Midas noticed his arrival and dismissed the hangers-on with a lazy wave of his hand. "Give us the room. Business to discuss." Luccione seated himself without ceremony across from Midas. Up close, the finely crafted details of the man's golden accents betrayed access to significant resources.
"So you're the great Midas," Luccione remarked. "To what do I owe the honor of this meeting?" He kept his tone neutral and face impassive. Best to hold his cards close for now.
"Luccione, my friend! I've heard impressive things about your skills. Think I have a job that's right up your alley." Midas leaned back and lit a cigarette, regarding Luccione through purple spectacles.
"Oh? I'm listening."
Midas took a long drag before continuing. "I'm hitting the Saurus Agency tonight. Gonna teach those sanctimonious heroes not to meddle in my affairs while their precious #2 is off enjoying the Shiketsu tournament in Kyoto." He blew out a stream of smoke. "Thing is, I could use someone to run a little distraction. Draw them out while I get to work inside. That's where you come in."
Luccione's interest was piqued, but he maintained an air of indifference. "And what's in it for me, exactly?"
Midas gave a sharp, golden-toothed grin. "Membership."
Chapter 3: The Attack
Luccione crouched in the alley shadows, scanning the street before him. The squat, unassuming building across from him was the Saurus Agency, home to half a dozen pro-heroes. Through his quirk's perceptions, he could vaguely sense their minds within as they went about their banal evening routines, utterly oblivious to the storm gathering just outside their doors. He had always found heroes fascinating psychological subjects. So convinced of their own righteous infallibility, yet secretly harbouring the same flaws and failings as any other mortal.
Beside him lurked Midas, uncharacteristically silent. Merely the promise of impending chaos seemed to thrum through the man with eager energy. Luccione approved of his zeal. Midas gave him a subtle nod. It was time. Luccione extended his quirk fully, probing outward like a psychic vulture circling for prey. He bypassed the oblivious heroes for now, instead focusing on the vulnerable minds of citizens slumbering nearby.
Their dreams became his playground. With surgical precision, he insinuated temptation's poison, twisting idle fancies into dark visions of avarice, lust and violence. A microcosm of repressed sins and cravings played out behind their sleeping eyes, so vivid that sleep became nightmare. And nightmare bled seamlessly into reality. The nebulous chaos coalesced rapidly. Within moments the night was pierced by screams and sobs as domestic disputes turned violent, listless citizens became gripped by destructive compulsions, and moral facades dissolved into anarchy. The very streets around the agency seemed possessed by spreading madness.
And like moths to flame, the heroes took the bait. Alarms blared within the agency moments before its doors burst open, the city's would-be protectors sprinting forth to answer screams echoing through the night.
Luccione smiled coldly, fangs glinting in the shadows. "Let's paint their precious halls with our colors."
Midas returned his grin and glided forth, tendrils of gold already trailing from his hands. The real spectacle was about to begin.
Chaos greeted the heroes as they rushed into the apartment complex's lobby. All was bedlam within, Luccione's illusions having whipped the residents into a jealous frenzy. Friends grappled over scattered cash and valuables, lovers exchanged blows in the grip of imagined infidelities, listless citizens huddled over ornate treasures only they could see.
Avarice emerged at Luccione's side, the dragon's passive aura strengthening the hold of his visions tenfold. Mortals were such fragile creatures, their moralities crumbling so easily when pressed. It was almost disappointing.
Midas seemed to share none of Luccione's pensiveness, drinking in the tumult with perverse glee. "Gotta admit, you have a flair for spectacle," he chuckled. With a wave of his hand, he sent a golden tendril lashing out to trip a rioter charging them, his stolen prizes scattering across the floor. "Now let's give our heroic guests a proper welcome!"
The heroes faltered on the lobby's threshold, gaping in dismay at the mindless pandemonium within. Before they could gather their wits, Luccione blanketed them in a fresh onslaught of tailored hallucinations, plucking their mental vulnerabilities with surgical precision. Most fell quickly, minds drowning under the weight of their own inflated egos, jealousies and cravings.
Two heroes tried to resist, firing off sonic bursts that went wide of their mark. Midas swatted them aside with golden hands that burst from the floor, pinning them down effortlessly. "Much better! Play nice now, boys."
Luccione tilted his head, inspecting his handiwork. One hero was furiously gathering up scattered bills, gripped by the vision of unlimited wealth Luccione had implanted. Another proclaimed grandiose delusions of power and prestige to the empty lobby, arms raised messianically. The others were similarly incapacitated, lost in worlds of imagined glory and indulgence.
"They seem to be having fun," Luccione remarked.
"Who needs ideals when you have this? This is the essence of art." Midas punctuated his words by sending the grandiose hero crashing into a wall with a cackle. The other subdued heroes winced and struggled feebly against their golden bonds to no avail. As more heroes and law enforcement arrived, so did the other members of Night Parade.
Greenfinger fought his way besides Luccione as he sent a giant oak flying through an apartment complex. Karma leaped from building to building, taking everything of great value as she tore through the defenders with claws and fang. Tomi created a construct warrior to cleave through the crowd, laughing in wild amusement.
Luccione allowed himself a faint smile. "I believe the night's symphony still awaits its crescendo. Your team is quite a sight."
Midas's grin was sharpened gold. "Aren't they? Stay here with the others and enjoy yourself. I have something to do inside." Luccione watched the Night Parade's leader casually walk through the chaos and disappear through the agency's door.
Soon the once-pristine walls of the Saurus Agency was cracked and scorched. Luccione strode calmly through the ruined lobby, Greenfinger lumbering behind him. The sounds of chaos echoed from deeper within the building - Midas and the others were keeping the heroes thoroughly occupied.
Luccione's sharp ears picked up approaching footsteps from down the hall. He extended his perceptions, searching for the minds of those drawing near. Aha - two "heroes" approaching, both excited by the promise of violence. Crude beasts, from what he could glean. This could be entertaining.
"We have company, my large friend," he remarked to Greenfinger. "Try not to kill them too quickly."
Greenfinger grinned. "No promises." He cracked his massive knuckles, grin widening at the prospect of violence.
Two pro-heroes emerged from the smoke-filled corridor. One was a muscular mutant with a reptilian face and a large triceratops frill and horns sprouting from his head. His companion was also a reptile mutant - smaller and more lithe, with vibrant green scales.
The triceratops slammed his fists together. "Come quietly, villains! Razor Horn and Spikeback will take you down!"
Luccione sighed dramatically. "Must we trade tedious banter before violence? I find it so gauche."
Without warning, Spikeback inhaled deeply then spewed a jet of flames from his mouth, forcing Luccione and Greenfinger to dive aside.
"I'll make this quick!" yelled Spikeback, racing forward on all fours, flames licking from between his teeth.
Luccione's eyes narrowed. Impudent creature. He summoned Avarice and melded his mind seamlessly with the draconic familiar. As one, they exhaled noxious fumes, blanketing the room.
Spikeback stumbled, coughing and clawing at his eyes as the choking haze engulfed him. Luccione concentrated, twisting the fumes into horrifying visions of the lizard's fears and failures. A psychic assault combined with physical pain - exquisite.
While Spikeback was incapacitated, Razor Horn charged, head lowered to skewer them on his massive horns. Fast for his size. But not fast enough. Just before impact, Greenfinger seized the horns and stopped Razor Horn's charge cold. The triceratops struggled futilely against the larger man's freakish strength. Greenfinger brutally wrenched Razor Horn's head to the side, twisting his neck with an ugly crack. Howling, Razor Horn swiped desperately with his fists, but his blows glanced off Greenfinger's dense muscles.
"You can't match me," rumbled Greenfinger. He heaved the triceratops overhead and hurled him through several trees that seem to grow all around them with bone-breaking force. Razor Horn's overmuscled body spasmed as he crumpled amidst shattered concrete.
Meanwhile, a recovered Spikeback had maneuvered behind Greenfinger during the scuffle. He inhaled sharply, flames building within his throat - then collapsed as Avarice materialized and clamped its jaws around his neck, venom-tipped fangs digging cruelly into scaled flesh.
Luccione smiled coldly. "Did you think being sneaky would help you, little lizard?"
He forced Spikeback's mind open, pouring visions of utter despair and defeat into the helpless mutant's psyche. Avarice tightened its grip, sadistic pleasure radiating through its bond with Luccione. Just a few more seconds and its venom would finish this nuisance... Spikeback collapsed, clutching his mangled throat and keening.
Luccione arched one eyebrow. "I have this one under control."
Greenfinger shrugged. "Looks too slow. Let me finish this." Cracking his knuckles, he loomed over the crippled Spikeback.
Luccione shrugged elegantly. "By all means."
Spikeback could only gurgle in terror as Greenfinger seized him by the throat and began applying crushing force. Razor Horn struggled to rise but froze at Luccione's glance.
"I wouldn't, beast." To emphasize the point, Avarice materialized before the triceratops, hissing menacingly. Chastened, Razor Horn remained still, forced to watch his partner's agony helplessly.
With a sickening crack, Greenfinger snapped Spikeback's neck and let the limp body fall. He ground his heel into the mutant's head for good measure, then turned to the cowering Razor Horn with a predatory grin.
Luccione gave a bored wave of his hand. "No need to drag this out. I grow weary of this."
Greenfinger nodded and, moving faster than his bulk suggested possible, was atop Razor Horn in an instant. A single savage blow shattered the triceratops' jaw and dropped him unconscious to the floor. Greenfinger flexed his hands, still hungry for violence.
Luccione gazed down dispassionately at their broken foes. He got a message on his phone from Midas telling them to retreat. "Come. Our work here is finished." Leaving the "heroes" where they lay, the two villains departed into the shadows. A job well-done.
Chapter 4: The Show
The opulent VIP box overflowed with laughter and conversation as the villains of the Night Parade reveled in their recent victory. The remains of an extravagant feast littered the tables - oysters, lobster, Dom Perignon champagne. They had spared no expense.
Midas reclined on a plush chaise lounge, a blonde bombshell under each arm. "My friends, enjoy yourselves! We are triumphant!" Their assault on the Saurus Agency had gone flawlessly. Even now, the heroes were still licking their wounds. And the Saurus Agency had been reduced to a warzone, thanks to Luccione's aid.
"Gotta hand it to you pretty boy, we really did a number on those hero punks," chuckled Greenfinger through a mouthful of steak. His knuckles were still bruised from pulverizing Razor Horn.
Nearby, Tatarimokke sipped champagne, admiring the view of the arena on the screen. "Such elegant chaos we unleashed. The Philistines at the Hero Public Safety Commission won't soon forget it."
Karma grinned wickedly, flashing her fangs. "I got plenty of easy loot too. I call it a good night's work."
"And an excellent prelude to the festivities here," added Luccione airily, Avarice hissing by his side. "Speaking of, shall we turn our attention back to the child's tournament unfolding?" He gestured to the screen as the second set of matches ended.
Midas waved a hand indulgently. "Yes, of course. My my, the first round matches were rather entertaining. The boy that could teleport shows promise."
Taking the seat besides him, the owl-headed Tatarimokke nodded. "Mmm, such creativity in using his quirk. Though that hairstyle is rather garrish."
Midas chuckled. "Always keeping an eye out for beauty, aren't you my friend?"
Across from them, the hulking Greenfinger cracked his knuckles. "Bah, it's just children playing at being heroes. Wake me when there's real action."
Karma, her feet up on the railing, grinned slyly. "Oh I don't know, some of them seem dangerous. That power copier with the flames especially."
"Yes, the children have promise, though they are but novices compared to you masters of true villainy," said Luccione as he sipped champagne.
Midas smiled indulgently. "High praise coming from you, my friend. But do tell, what did you make of your younger brother's showing earlier?"
Luccione's lip curled faintly. "The boy has talent, but lacks discipline. His antics in that garish armor were pure showmanship."
"I thought it was clever!" Midas laughed. "Using deception and playing the crowd. The makings of a showman, like myself."
Tatarimokke leaned forward eagerly. "Perhaps you could bring your brother along next time? His power intrigues me."
Luccione's eyes narrowed. "My wayward brother remains...unpredictable. I doubt he would embrace our methods. But the dragon's blood runs true."
"Pity," said Midas lightly. "Well, at least we have you, my cultured friend."
Luccione inclined his head. "I go where the path of destiny leads."
Karma rolled her eyes and drank from a half-empty bottle of wine from her perch against the wall. "I don’t want any more dragons from Kyoto. Who needs em’." The hulking Greenfinger just grunted.
Midas smiled indulgently and refilled his glass. "So many promising talents for our enterprise. Tell me, did any of the other aspiring young heroes catch your fancy?"
Tatarimokke adjusted his scarf and stuck his chin in the air. "The Mitsurugi girl is exquisite. Such poise! And that blonde American boy shows potential too."
Karma pretended to retch. "Ugh please, like you'd know what to do with them." She grinned wickedly. "The Sagara girl interests me though. We could have fun."
"Keep it in your pants, Karma," rumbled Greenfinger. "I've got my eye on the water inertia wielder. Now that's a truly powerful quirk! With the proper guidance..."
Tatarimokke looked down on Bogey in the corner, "And... I can guess who our white-knuckled friend is fuming over. Still holding a grudge over that tall amazon girl? She's far strong now, y'know.."
Bogey let out a loud gutteral growl from his station and Karma covered her ears.
Midas swirled his glass idly. "Now, now friends. Let’s not bicker in front of our guest." His tone was musing but they knew it was an order as he turned to Luccione. "Still, it would be interesting to see their potential nurtured under our tutilage… or at least watch them lose that spark that carries them forward."
Greenfinger nodded. “It’d be a lot of trouble for us if they all became heroes.”
Luccione clasped his hands. "I'm guessing that's my second task? I supposed I could take a peek into their desires for you. It may take me all Summer to do so, but afterwards I expect you to keep your end of our deal."
"Always planning ahead, aren't you, my clever friend?" Midas cackled and raised his glass in a mocking toast. "So be it. We’ll talk numbers later. For now, let us simply enjoy the rest of the show, that the children have been gracious enough to put up for us."
Karma grinned. "Speaking of, when do we get to really play with them?"
"Patience, my dear," said Midas indulgently. "All in due time. Our plans are in motion, thanks to your acquired skills. Did you secure the item I requested?"
"Of course." Karma produced a vial of red liquid from her jacket pocket, admiring it in the light. "Just say the word, and things will get very interesting around here."
Midas took the vial with a smile. "Excellent work as always. This will come in handy soon enough." He slipped the vial away just as the commentator's voice echoed through the stadium.
("Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen! We're just about to begin the quarterfinal round. Let's turn our attention back to the action!")
As the latest two combatants took the stage, Luccione gazed down impassively. Behind his placid facade, his mind churned. The tournament was but a game, a trifle. But properly manipulated, even trifles could become tools. The losers may find themselves in need of a helping hand and the winners will need a way to keep that satisfying high. A rare, cruel smile curved Luccione's lips. His dragon hissed in anticipation.
Midas recognized the gleam in Luccione’s eyes and the two shared a look. Within his eyes Luccione sensed greed. Pure disgusting greed.
It's the same wherever he goes. Luccione adjusted his red tie fastidiously. Perhaps one day he would find a spirit able to transcend base impulse. But not here. With a faint, bemused smile, he excused himself and faded into the gathering shadows of the night club's halls. The world's great drama eternally unfolded, and Luccione played his part flawlessly. For now, dancing alone must suffice until he could get his dear Inigo to join him.