"This battleship's smaller than Boros's."
Saitama muttered. Alien invasion crises like this were nothing new to him—by now he was practically experienced. Solving it from the inside was always the easiest.
"Stop! Intruder! Hands up, drop your weapon!"
A harsh voice barked behind him. It was Korath, Ronan's loyal subordinate, half his skull wired with circuits. Behind him, a squad of Kree soldiers raised their weapons at Saitama, ready to fire at the slightest move.
"Uh… excuse me, where's the leader of this ship? I want to talk to him."
Saitama scratched his cheek and asked seriously.
"You want to meet Lord Ronan? A Xandarian insect like you has no right! Kneel!!" Korath sneered, waving for his men to seize him.
"Master, detecting a high-energy reaction approaching. Direction locked. Algorithm suggests target is Ronan himself."
Saturday Sale's voice suddenly rang in Saitama's ear. Right—he had almost forgotten about her.
"That way, huh?"
He turned to where she marked—only to see a solid alloy wall. No path.
But that was no problem. For a certain bald hero, breaking through walls was routine.
He pressed his fingers into the seam—
Kakakaka—
The starship's inner alloy, built to withstand heavy energy beams, tore like tape. A corner peeled open.
The Kree soldiers froze, faces pale. Even Korath nearly gagged, his expression like he'd seen a ghost.
That was Necron Alloy! Just below vibranium in strength—ripped apart like paper?
"What are you doing?"
Saitama glanced curiously at the petrified guards, stepping through the hole.
"…."
They stared, mute.
"Hmm, a bit narrow. Wouldn't want to bump my head."
With a tug, he widened the gap. Too much force—
BOOM!
The entire wall collapsed like a torn blanket.
"…Oops. Used too much strength. Sorry, I'm in a hurry."
He scratched his shiny head awkwardly. He was here as a guest, yet he was tearing down the house.
Korath: "….."
None dared move. Who wanted to handcuff the guy who just tore apart starship armor with his bare hands?
Ahead, BOOM BOOM BOOM—the sound of demolition echoed.
Saitama was at work. The walls were endless, so he just ripped through them one by one, carving a tunnel so long it vanished from sight.
Minutes passed. Korath slumped to the floor, drenched in cold sweat. A few faint-hearted soldiers had already passed out.
Tatatata—
Footsteps approached.
"Get out here, Kree scum! It's Rocket, baby!"
Rocket, Gamora, Drax, and Groot burst in, ready for a bloody fight. But the ship was eerily quiet. Not a single Kree in sight.
Then they found Korath and the others—slumped, lifeless-eyed, not resisting.
Gamora's eyes fell on the yawning tunnel ripped through the ship.
The group froze.
Rocket muttered, "…You won't believe me, but I think I just saw a ghost today."
Meanwhile, in another corridor—
Ronan, clad in Kree battle armor, hammer pulsing with the Power Stone's glow, moved confidently. Stronger than ever, pride swelled inside him.
"Found you."
A faint voice drifted from behind the wall.
Ronan turned—and his face twisted. The wall bulged, split, and tore.
A yellow-sleeved arm reached through.
"Who goes there?!"
Ronan leapt back, fast with the Power Stone's boost. He barely avoided the grab.
Kakakaka—
The wall ripped wide. Saitama stepped through casually, brushing dust from his cape.
"…Didn't catch you, huh?" he muttered.
Ronan's heart pounded. The alloy walls—stronger than most fleets—torn like cloth. What kind of monster was this?
The bald man stood there, red gloves, white cape, yellow suit, his head shining.
"Who are you?!" Ronan snarled, tightening his grip on the hammer.
"Me? I'm Saitama. A hero for fun."
His voice was flat, but his eyes sharpened.
"I don't know much about Xandar and your Kree, but I can't just ignore this. Leave now, and I'll pretend none of this happened. Take your fleet with you."
(End of Chapter)
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