The orange evening sunlight poured into All Might's office, casting long shadows across the room. Seated around a large conference table were All Might, Sir Nighteye, Gran Torino, and Mirio Togata, each wearing varying expressions of anticipation and tension.

On the table sat a sleek audio receiver, connected to the bugs Mirio had planted in Izuku Midoriya's dorm room the night before.

The air was thick with expectation as Sir Nighteye pressed the play button.

Sir Nighteye {calmly, adjusting his glasses}: "Let's begin. We're looking for any suspicious behavior or conversations that confirm our theory."

The room fell silent as the audio began to play. At first, all they heard were the soft sounds of shuffling paper and the clicking of a keyboard.

Izuku's voice {calm and professional}: "Yes, I reviewed the draft for the client. The pacing in the second act still needs work. Push back the deadline if necessary, but make sure it's perfect. We're not rushing mediocrity."

Gran Torino {frowning}: "Business calls? What kind of villain has time for this nonsense?"

The recording continued. Izuku was clearly multitasking as he navigated what sounded like a meeting with a publishing team. Occasionally, there were faint snippets of conversations about upcoming books, movies, and media projects, all spoken in the same calm, composed tone.

Izuku {on the recording}: "The protagonist's growth arc needs to feel earned. Rewrite it if you have to. We're not putting my name on something half-finished."

Mirio {whispering, confused}: "Wait… this guy's handling client meetings like it's his day job."

All Might {furrowing his brows}: "This doesn't prove anything. Keep listening."

The next snippet began with the faint hum of a microphone.

Interviewer’s voice {cheerfully}: "Mr. Ōru Fō Wan, your work has captured audiences worldwide! What inspires you to write such emotionally complex stories?"

Izuku {calmly, on the recording}: "Observation. People are predictable when you understand their motivations. Strip away the noise, and their true intentions become clear."

The group in the office exchanged wary glances.

Gran Torino {grumbling}: "Sounds like he's talking about manipulating people."

Izuku {continuing, on the recording}: "That's the key to good storytelling—understanding human nature. But my focus is on creating, not controlling."

Sir Nighteye {narrowing his eyes}: "If this is a front, it's a convincing one."

Their patience wore thin after hours of listening to mundane tasks and professional conversations. Just as Gran Torino was about to suggest scrapping the mission, Izuku's voice shifted into something more personal.

Izuku {on the recording}: "Father, I need your advice. The hunger is becoming more persistent. It's manageable, but I'd prefer to avoid unnecessary distractions."

The room collectively froze. Sir Nighteye's hand hovered over the pause button, his eyes wide.

Hisashi Midoriya's voice {calm and authoritative}: "It's natural, Izuku. All For One requires discipline. Feed it selectively—use Quirks that enhance your control and temper the hunger. Balance is key."

All Might {grimly}: "There it is. Proof."

Mirio {murmuring}: "He's talking about managing the All For One Quirk…"

The recording continued, with Izuku asking questions about Quirk combinations and tactical application, his tone clinical yet curious. Hisashi responded with measured advice, his voice devoid of emotion but layered with experience.

Gran Torino {crossing his arms}: "They're too calm about it. It's almost like… they've normalized this."

As they listened intently, Izuku's voice suddenly broke the flow of the conversation. His tone shifted, becoming sharper and more direct, as if addressing someone who wasn’t in the room.

Izuku {on the recording, casually}: "Enjoying yourselves, gentlemen?"

The group collectively tensed, their eyes darting to one another. Mirio's jaw dropped, and All Might leaned forward, his heart pounding.

Izuku {calmly, on the recording}: "I must admit, I didn't expect the Symbol of Peace and his associates to stoop to planting bugs in my dorm room. A bit disappointing, don't you think?"

Sir Nighteye slammed the pause button, his expression a mix of shock and suspicion.

Sir Nighteye {frowning}: "He knows. How does he know?"

Before anyone could answer, the audio resumed on its own, Izuku's voice as steady as ever.

Izuku {on the recording, with a hint of amusement}: "Oh, don't bother pausing. I made sure you'd hear everything I have to say. Do you think these tactics will reveal anything? If I had secrets worth hiding, do you believe I'd let you find them so easily?"

Gran Torino {muttering, glaring at the recorder}: "Cocky little—"

Izuku {on the recording, cutting him off}: "Careful, Gran Torino. I can hear you, even now."

The group fell silent, the weight of Izuku's words settling over them like a storm cloud.

Izuku {on the recording, almost playful}: "I won't hold this against you. Frankly, I find it amusing. But next time, try asking me directly. You might be surprised by how cooperative I can be... or not."

The recording ended abruptly, leaving the room in stunned silence.

All Might {rubbing his temples, voice strained}: "He knew the whole time… and he played us."

Mirio {still wide-eyed}: "How?! I was so careful planting those bugs!"

Sir Nighteye {grimly, deep in thought}: "He's several steps ahead. Either he anticipated this move from the start, or he has resources we don't understand yet."

Gran Torino {gruffly}: "All this, and we're no closer to the truth. The kid's either an innocent genius or a master manipulator."

All Might {quietly, staring at the recorder}: "Perhaps… he's both."

The room fell into uneasy silence as they realized the full extent of Izuku's awareness and control.

Operation Evil Son had not only failed to reveal incriminating evidence but had also shown them just how formidable their target truly was.

[Transition]

After delivering his scathing message through the bugs with the help of his Technopath Quirk, Izuku Midoriya leaned back in his chair, his expression calm yet faintly amused. The soft glow of his laptop screen illuminated his sharp features as he adjusted his headset.

The conversation with his father, Hisashi Midoriya, resumed as if there had been no interruption.

Hisashi Midoriya {chuckling softly over the call}: "That was a bit theatrical, Izuku. You sounded like me in my younger days."

Izuku {calmly, with a faint smirk}: "They gave me an audience, so I decided to give them a performance. You'd know something about that, wouldn't you?"

Hisashi's warm laughter echoed through the speakers, a far cry from the cold and calculated villain the world once feared. Over the years, his demeanor had softened considerably, particularly when it came to his son.

Hisashi {playfully}: "Ah, I suppose I do. You inherited more than just my intellect, it seems."

Izuku didn't respond directly, instead glancing at the clock. The call had stretched longer than expected, but he didn’t mind. These late-night conversations with his father were rare but comforting in their own way.

Izuku {shifting in his chair}: "How was your business trip? Did everything go as planned?"

Hisashi {sighing lightly}: "Busy as always. The investors in London were more stubborn than I anticipated, but nothing a little charm and persuasion couldn't fix. You'd have handled it better, though. You've got a knack for reading people."

Izuku {matter-of-factly}: "I learned from the best."

There was a brief pause before Hisashi’s voice grew warmer, more casual.

Hisashi {teasingly}: "And how's my little successor doing? Being 'Man of the House' treating you well?"

Izuku rolled his eyes slightly, though a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Izuku {bluntly}: "It's fine. Nothing out of the ordinary."

Hisashi hummed thoughtfully, clearly unconvinced.

Hisashi {knowingly}: "You're enjoying the quiet, aren't you? No one to disturb your writing or meddle in your routines. Inko must be thrilled to have you holding down the fort."

Izuku hesitated, his voice softening just a fraction.

Izuku {quietly}: "She's... happy. That's what matters."

Hisashi {gently}: "And you? How are you doing?"

Izuku didn’t answer immediately. He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, his sapphire-blue eyes flickering toward a photograph on his desk—a family picture of him, Inko, and Hisashi from years ago.

Izuku {finally}: "I'm managing. UA is... interesting."

Hisashi's chuckle returned, this time tinged with pride.

Hisashi {proudly}: "That's my boy. Always adapting, always excelling."

Izuku shifted uncomfortably, clearly not used to overt praise, but he didn't protest. Hisashi could sense his son’s embarrassment, and though Izuku rarely expressed his emotions openly, Hisashi wasn’t fooled.

Hisashi {warmly}: "You don't have to say it, Izuku. I know."

For a moment, neither spoke. The silence between them was comfortable, unspoken understanding filling the space.

Izuku {after a pause, changing the subject}: "When are you coming back?"

Hisashi {thoughtfully}: "Soon. A few more days, maybe a week. Don't let Inko worry too much while I'm away, alright?"

Izuku {dryly}: "I think you worry about her more than she worries about you."

Hisashi laughed again, the sound warm and genuine.

Hisashi {playfully}: "And you wouldn't have it any other way, would you?"

Izuku didn’t respond, but the faint smile on his face was answer enough.

Hisashi {softly, before ending the call}: "Take care, Izuku. And remember, you're doing great—whether you admit it or not."

Izuku {quietly}: "Goodnight, Father."

As the call ended, Izuku leaned back in his chair, the faint glow of the laptop fading as he closed it. The room fell into silence once more, but the warmth of the conversation lingered, a reminder of the strange but steadfast bond between father and son.