"Ryūsui Ganseki Ken (Flowing Water Crushing Rock Fist)… huh?!"
Garou stepped in close, his signature technique blazing forth, fists weaving arcs of blue light. Yet the man before him—King—didn't dodge at all.
"Taking my attack head-on? Are you stupid?"
The flurry struck, crashing down like a war drum. The impact hurled King back through a wall, debris scattering everywhere.
"K…King got hit?!"
"This is insane! He's top-tier S-Class!"
The Vest gang gaped, unable to process what they saw.
"Pathetic. Thought you were strong, but you're nothing."
Garou sneered, eyes sliding to the bald man in the distance.
"You're next. Rank 2 S-Class, the so-called strongest—don't disappoint me."
"You should look behind you first," Saitama muttered, eyes glued to his handheld game.
"Behind me?"
Garou turned—and froze.
From the rubble, King rose. Cracks of molten red crawled across his body before fading, wounds knitting shut in seconds.
"Ryūsui Ganseki Ken, Master Bang's technique. Not bad… but I need to be tougher than that."
King loomed, scars etched across his face, muscles radiating menace.
"Wow! He's so cool!"
"So strong!"
"Top-tier S-Class for real!"
The Vest gang roared in awe.
Garou snarled, launching a spinning kick, flowing with the same water-crushing style.
Wham!
But King caught his ankle with one hand.
"…!"
A chill ripped through Garou as searing heat surged from King's grip. The smell of scorched flesh filled the air as he screamed, wrenching free. His ankle bore a blackened burn, flesh split to the bone.
"Impossible! High heat?! Damn it!"
His face twisted in fury. He hadn't even scratched King, yet was already wounded.
In truth, King's plan was simple: let the enemy close in, then grab and burn. Thanks to the scarlet virus serum, he could finally fight—at least long enough to bluff.
"King is amazing!"
"He already hurt Garou!"
"You're finished, Garou!"
The Vest gang howled with joy.
Garou sweated, glaring at both King and the silent bald hero nearby. Alone, King was already overwhelming. With Saitama present too, the odds were grim.
"Damn it! I need to escape!"
Feigning a charge, he suddenly bolted back, voice echoing:
"Next time we meet—you're dead!"
He swore he'd return stronger, as the true monster he envisioned.
But—
"Why wait until next time?"
A flat, emotionless voice cut him off.
Garou skidded to a halt, heart lurching.
The bald man who'd been lounging and playing games now stood right before him.
Saitama.
Dead fish eyes still fixed on his console, as if he'd merely strolled over.
"…S-Class Rank 2?"
Garou's expression hardened.
With a roar, he unleashed every ounce of strength, muscles coiling, fists flowing with unstoppable rhythm.
"Ryūsui Ganseki Ken!"
His strikes blurred into blue arcs, each blow sharp enough to shred steel, all aimed at Saitama's neck.
Boom!
The ground split open beneath them, a five-meter crater blasted into the street. Dust and stone rained.
The Vest gang and King stiffened.
"Idiot…" Garou sneered.
But his sneer died.
Saitama still stood, handheld game in hand, unfazed. Not even a scratch marred his skin. Garou's hands smoked from the recoil, his bones threatening to snap.
"Impossible… my technique!"
Snarling, he unleashed another frenzy, fists pounding like a hurricane, drowning Saitama in an ocean of blue light.
The air crackled, space itself rippling under the relentless barrage.
In that instant, Garou felt it—he had surpassed even Bang's mastery. His technique was at its peak.
And then—
"Are you done?"
Saitama's deadpan voice cut through. He finally lowered his console, raising those lifeless eyes.
"If you're finished… then it's my turn."
(End of Chapter)
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