"Eh?"
Snake was stunned, then his face turned cold.
A mere C-class? Blocked his strike? He thinks he can play hero?
"You want to stand tall? Heh… then show me if you've got the skill for it! Kid! Snake Fang—!"
Snake grinned, jagged teeth flashing. His palm shot out like lightning—
Shhk!
The familiar sensation of blood warm against his hand. Yes, he had landed the strike!
But—
The next moment, his eyes went wide.
License-less Rider didn't even bother defending, didn't flinch. His fist—simple, direct, brutal—smashed forward.
Boom!
Snake spat blood, body thrown ten meters through the air, screaming.
The B-class lackeys with him nearly wet themselves.
That was Snake! An A-class veteran, a man eyeing promotion to S-class, renowned close-combat master!
And he just got flattened by… by that?!
Step after heavy step cracked the pavement as License-less Rider advanced, ignoring the pain in his chest.
No pain stung more than the humiliation they had heaped upon C-class.
Every insult. Every sneer. Every wound.
"I, License-less Rider! C-Class Rank 1! On behalf of all C-class heroes—return it all, tenfold!!"
Bang! Bang!
His fists tore through the air, relentless.
Snake, caught off guard at first, tried to fight back. His strikes were fierce, his technique sharp, a storm of blows. But—
License-less Rider fought like a madman.
He took every strike, traded every blow, tooth for tooth, bone for bone.
You hit me once—I'll hit you twice!
You land two blows—I'll give you back three!
They were nose to nose, fists hammering, blood spraying like rain. The sickening thud of flesh against flesh echoed over and over.
The B-class thugs turned pale. Some collapsed outright, trembling.
Heroes—professional heroes—stood frozen, eyes wide.
The clash dragged on for five long minutes. Neither relented.
When the dust finally settled—
Both men were drenched in blood. Snake's face was ruined, swollen like a pig's head. His body was broken, barely standing.
But License-less Rider… though battered, still stood tall. Gasping, teeth bared in a bloody smile.
"…Remember this! I am License-less Rider, C-Class Rank 1!"
His bloodstained grin silenced the crowd.
Even A-classes avoided his gaze.
"Monster…"
"This guy's insane! Completely insane!"
"No wonder he killed that demon-class beast. He's terrifying—like a devil!"
"Is this really… a C-class hero?"
Snake crumpled, dragged away by panicked staff into intensive care. Nearly every bone shattered, left a husk. Later, his fear of C-class would make him infamous—the cowardly 'Snake Runner.'
But that day—
Every eye saw the truth.
The C-class heroes, bloody but proud, rushed to their leader, tears in their eyes.
To them, his wounds were shining medals.
To everyone else—they were glory.
The glory of C-class.
From then on, no one dared mock them.
Even S-class heroes like Bang and Atomic Samurai took notice. They acknowledged License-less Rider. Some even pressed for reforms to improve C-class conditions.
And in the annals of the Hero Association—
License-less Rider would forever be remembered as:
The Strongest C-Class!
The man who changed the fate of the weak!
…
Three days later, the world was calm again. No major disasters.
Saitama lounged at home, spoiled by the attentions of Mosquito Girl, Fubuki, and Lilith. Life as a salted fish was sweet.
Until—
Ding-dong!
The doorbell rang.
Mosquito Girl Christina went to answer. As per a lost bet with Lilith, she was stuck in a maid outfit, cheeks flushed with resentment.
But when she opened the door—
Her face went pale, trembling, eyes wide with rare fear.
Standing outside was a figure she never thought she'd see—
(End of Chapter)
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