"Me?"
King was at a loss.
The giant black bird flapped madly against Saitama's right hand, its iron-like wings tearing into the building.
Boom—
With a light punch, the bird's upper body exploded, spraying purple blood that splattered across Saitama's face.
Terrified by the monstrous sight, King screamed.
"You're fine now. It's been dealt with."
Saitama spoke flatly. His figure shone with a faint white glow, his face overlapping with a memory long buried.
"You are…?!"
King's eyes widened in disbelief.
Memories surfaced—when he was younger, often beset by monsters, it was always that handsome black-haired man who saved him.
That man overlapped perfectly with the bald Saitama standing before him!
"That person… I'm sorry…"
King collapsed to the floor, crying, his gaze full of guilt and remorse.
Half an hour later.
Inside the ruined apartment, Saitama finally understood. King was the civilian he had once saved without realizing it, later mistaken as the one who defeated the monsters.
"Are you happy living like this? Becoming a hero through lies, living every day in fear?" Saitama asked.
"…No."
Letting out the truth seemed to stabilize King's emotions.
"But that's not my concern. I won't lecture you," Saitama said.
"I… I think I've stolen your credit, Sensei," King admitted, ashamed.
"It's not about credit. The point is, you're seen as a hero."
"No… I…"
"Regardless, you're recognized as one of the strongest heroes, King. You just need to actually become strong yourself."
Saitama's words were calm.
Glancing at King's trembling hands, Saitama extended the curtain of reality before him.
Even though he was ranked highly, Saitama rarely bothered with people. Genos had him as a mentor, but the Association needed figures with influence.
The frequency of monster appearances was rising. Ordinary citizens grew more anxious every day. Even crime rates—robbery and theft—were climbing.
If King's fraud were exposed, it would shatter the Association's image and plunge society into chaos.
So Saitama chose silence.
He wasn't stupid. He had a sense of the bigger picture. He'd endured public misunderstanding before, never explaining or fighting for credit.
What he truly valued was peace and stability.
"Become strong?"
King looked blankly at Saitama.
The true Strongest Man stood before him, while he was just a fraud. Yet instead of anger, Saitama showed tolerance and understanding.
The guilt and remorse in King's heart only deepened.
"I'm leaving. In one week, meet me at the Evolution House in X-City."
With that, Saitama glanced at him, then leapt from the 22nd floor carrying his full bag of groceries.
King wasn't evil by nature. In an era of endless monsters, any hero with influence was worth keeping—especially one as popular as King.
"Ah… Saitama…"
Watching his departing back, King sat lifeless on the ground, his heart filled with gratitude.
Hero Association Headquarters.
Inside the steel pyramid-like building, a stern voice rang out.
"This is the Hero Association's Emergency Response Group for the Earth's Destruction Prophecy. I am the leader, Sitch."
In the main hall, a middle-aged man in a suit with neatly parted hair spoke solemnly.
Last time, Boros had invaded. But apart from Saitama, no one had truly seen that cosmic overlord. After the spaceship was recovered by the Evolution House, the rumors of Baba Vanga's prophecy of Earth's destruction had not faded, but spread even further.
In just one month, monster appearances had increased sixfold compared to the average rate of the past three years!
"I appreciate that you people from the underworld have answered our call," Sitch said, addressing the crowd.
Beside him stood three professional heroes:
A-Class Rank 6, Blue Fire.
A-Class Rank 7, Magic Trick.
S-Class Rank 28, Heavy Tank Loincloth—newly promoted from A-Class Rank 4, a rising hero with overwhelming strength and popularity.
With these three as guards, Sitch felt a little more at ease. No one would dare stir trouble against such power.
The monster outbreaks had stretched the Association thin. Many areas lacked proper coverage, and criticism grew louder.
Thus, as a high-ranking officer, Sitch was forced to consider recruiting villains as auxiliary heroes.
Yes—villains.
The dim underground hall was filled with them. Fierce eyes, scarred faces, exuding danger. Many were criminals once captured by the Association, while others had been invited for their abilities.
Sitch's goal was to select those who weren't completely irredeemable, to press them into service as heroes.
He hated the idea, but desperation left him no choice.
"Hahaha~ Who would've thought the Hero Association would come begging us?"
"Their time must be running short. Better pay up if you want our help…"
The crowd was rowdy, mocking, not taking Sitch seriously.
To them, he was just a powerless man.
Still, Sitch raised his voice. "Your past crimes can be forgiven, as long as you follow the Association's orders—"
"Hold it!"
A chilling voice cut through the crowd.
Everyone turned to look.
"Where is that hero named Saitama? Doesn't he live in this headquarters?"
The calm voice carried suppressed rage, like a sea serpent raising its head out of the dark.
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For 20+ Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!]
[[email protected]/Draumel]
[Thank You For Your Support!]