Deku Vigilante Suit Novels & Stories

Eriyumilai stood proudly between Blake’s legs. Eriyumilai’s sleek, muscular frame was now clad in matching black armor, intricately designed to complement Blake’s suit. The armor was both elegant and functional, with sharp, angular lines that mirrored the pup’s natural strength and agility. Spikes adorned his shoulders, and the chest plate gleamed with a polished finish, offering protection while enhancing his intimidating presence. The pup’s eyes, still bright with youthful energy, now held a fierce determination, his sharp teeth barely visible beneath the armor that covered his strong, battle-ready jaw.

The whole place had a pulse of excitement and anticipation. The tailors gave me the clothes for tonight. It is a three-piece suit made from wool that matches our eye color, blue, and silver. They embroidered the sleeves with symbols of our pack, the triskele. “Alarick!” I shouted as a lot of werewolves also occupied the tavern. “Ylva’s looking for you.” Alarick nodded and went in my direction. He looks like a busy merchant trying to greet all his emptor. “Let her be. She knows her way around.”

"He thinks he's hunting a rival, a ghost on a bike. He doesn't know his sister-in-law is about to tear a hole in his billion-dollar security grid." Twenty minutes later, I was in the back of the darkened warehouse. The midnight blue gown lay discarded on the oil-stained concrete like the shed skin of a snake. I pulled on the black carbon-fiber suit, the familiar weight of the reinforced padding settling over my shoulders like armor. I snapped the helmet into place, the Heads-Up Display (HUD) flickering to life, displaying a map of Julian’s digital sensors in angry red pulses.

Spiritual flames surged out of his body, forming a suit of armor. The suit of armor consisted of a helmet, chest plate, tassets, greaves, and boots, with two streamers floating behind him, protecting Wilbur's entire body. Only his eyes were exposed. The armor was formed from white spiritual flames and had red runes shimmering around its surface. There was lightning dancing around it as well. It exuded a powerful and imposing aura, making Wilbur look like a war god. The Hundred Shadows Slaughter assaulted him, and all the spiritual energy blades constantly exploded against Wilbur's suit of armor. All the blades shattered, dispersing into spiritual energy.

Violetwall Cemetery CRUSH! Their boots crushed dry leaves beneath as they walked and stopped at the entrance of the cemetery. It was literally as imagined, a large spacious area besieged by wrought irons as fence and a short entrance gate in between. Rapidfire adorned in his costume stood before the team; a long sleeve black leather jacket that stopped at his ankles, black turned in shirt underneath, black trouser, an utility belt strapped around his waist, black leather boots and black goggles shading his eyes. He was holding in his hands his black OTS-02 Kiparises ready for unwanted litigations.

My brows knitted in the middle. Jared shrugged, reaching under the counter, producing a long rectangular box secured by a huge black ribbon. “I have a plan, and that includes pleasing our billionaire alpha friend, Seth Hawkins.” He opened the box, and inside lay the most hideous suit I had ever seen. It was white with blue and silver embellishments shimmering under the overhead lights. Grinning like a cheshire cat, Jared pulled out a knee-high boots and a fucking sword. “No. Abso-fucking-lutely not!”

Ava Reed moved like a shadow in the mist. She was clad in obsidian—an armoured tactical suit stitched with Kevlar and high-grade ballistic mesh, molded perfectly to her frame. It absorbed light, almost seemed to drink it. Under the hood of her tactical cloak, her face was shielded by a matte black mask. Her eyes, exposed and focused, burned like twin blades behind narrow visors. No jewelry. No sentiment. Just silence and precision. Around her moved a dozen hand-picked La Rosa enforcers, armed with suppressed rifles and hand signals. No one spoke unless she allowed it.

I wasn’t too concerned with the Alpha of this pack as my livelihood and house were more important to me. The path I took through the forest led me out of pack territory and into neutral territory to check on my house, happy to see that no one had been there since I left and that everything is still intact. This meant that the Soulless have not reached my house yet. Leaving the duffle bag in the kitchen, I run upstairs to take off the clothing I wore when raiding and switch to the Tracker outfit I had. It was an Iga Hakama Flat Hood Ninja suit with exceptionally lightweight black Damascus steel armour that only high-ranked Trackers were given in any pack. The all-black attire blends into the

“Just deal with her already.” And just like that, they fired. A deafening blast lit up the restroom. Smoke bloomed like a thundercloud around me. When it cleared, I was still standing…unscathed. I met their eyes and savored the shock in their expressions. How was I alive? Easy. My sleek black suit is also Reinforced with polymer mesh and experimental nano-weave—weapon-resistant, fire-retardant, and insult-proof. I’d tested it in worse conditions than this dump.

He pulled out a garment bag and draped it over the bed. "No more hoodies, Cali. Today, you wear the armor." Cali unzipped the bag. Inside was a suit, not a dress. It was a sharp, midnight-black power suit with a silk lapel and trousers that looked like they were cut from shadows. It was aggressive. It was mean. It was exactly what a woman with no soul would wear to a funeral. "I like it," Cali muttered, her grumpy mask softening into a lethal smirk. "I knew you would," Devi murmured, leaning against the doorframe, his jealousy of the clothes touching her skin already visible in his tight jaw.