The finals.
The true favorite—Suiryu—against the ultimate dark horse—"Charanko."
"The genius of Void Fist, Suiryu, versus a no-name with a stiff face. He looks so nervous he's frozen up!" the commentator cried.
"Frozen? More like bored..." Saitama thought, holding back a sigh.
The match began.
"Let's enjoy this fight, Charanko!" Suiryu grinned, unleashing a blinding side kick. The wind nearly blew Saitama's wig away.
"Close one... almost lost it," Saitama muttered, quickly pressing his hands over his head to protect the wig.
More strikes rained in like a storm, but Saitama just held his head tight, ignoring them all.
"Don't tell me... you can't even follow my attacks?" Suiryu teased, smiling confidently.
The crowd roared.
"Suiryu is completely overwhelming Charanko! He's just cowering with his head covered!"
"Tch, these commentators are blind. This is just a warm-up. I can tell he's strong. Because I'm strong too." Suiryu smirked, stopping his kicks.
He raised his voice proudly. "The championship is already mine. I just want a fun fight along the way."
"Oh, so you're not after my wig..." Saitama thought, relieved.
"Strong opponents make me happy!" Suiryu declared.
"I came to experience martial arts," Saitama replied flatly. "But if I counter, the match ends instantly. Pretty boring."
Then his eyes swept lazily across the stadium. "If you're in a hurry... you can all come at me at once."
The martial artists froze.
"Did he just... insult all of us?"
"Kill him! Challenge everyone here?!"
Even Suiryu's grin sharpened. "Big talk. But one is enough—you'll entertain me plenty."
He stomped the ground, tiles shattering, and drove a crushing kick at Saitama's head.
Saitama blocked with his arm, sliding across the ring until he hit the edge. Another kick slashed past his chest, nearly toppling his wig.
"Ready for my real assault?" Suiryu grinned.
Lightning-fast kicks slammed into Saitama, sending him flying skyward. Suiryu leapt after him, slamming him back down with a devastating stomp.
The ring cratered under the impact, half-swallowing Saitama's body.
"Absolute finish!!"
The crowd went wild. "Too fast! Too strong! Suiryu wins!!"
But then—
"Phew... thought my wig came off."
Saitama casually pulled himself out of the rubble, dusting off his head.
The audience gawked.
"No... damage?!"
Suiryu's smile twitched, then widened again. "Good. Otherwise, I'd be bored."
His speed spiked. A storm of one-legged kicks hammered Saitama like machine-gun fire.
The audience gasped.
"Monster speed! He's restraining himself on purpose—only one leg! Just for fun!"
Saitama stumbled back, hands clamped firmly over his wig. "Careful... almost slipped..."
"Not bad," Suiryu praised, like a teacher. "If you'd attacked me just now, you would've lost. What do you usually do in daily life?"
"Eh? Walk around. Fight monsters sometimes," Saitama said flatly.
"Monsters? Heroes? Pointless. Strength should be for pleasure, not for saving trash," Suiryu lectured arrogantly.
Saitama's expression soured.
Suiryu's grin widened. He twisted his hips, launching a massive whip kick aimed straight for Saitama's head.
(End of Chapter)
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