"Don't call me bald!"
Saitama's fist was already swinging. "This is my—Serious Beating!"
The violent strike sent shockwaves rippling outward in mad waves. In truth, Saitama had pulled his fist back before it even touched the target—but the very concept of the punch remained, fixed in place.
This wasn't spatial anymore. It was temporal.
In other words, the punch existed there in time; no matter when the enemy collided with that point, it would count as taking Saitama's blow.
That was the true meaning of… Serious Beating.
It wasn't Serious Consecutive Punches. It wasn't Serious Punch. Maybe Apocalypse wasn't worthy of those—but in this moment…
So when Apocalypse's descending blade—one that should have been able to cut anything—met Saitama's Serious Beating, an astonishing energy erupted in an instant.
The surge was like a small planetary detonation.
The blast radius swallowed a hundred meters of sky on the spot. The terrifying explosion made Professor X and Beast—who had already fled far away—exhale in relief despite themselves, reluctant gratitude flickering on both their faces.
In that same split-second, an even greater shockwave speared northward from the point of impact, punching a massive hole through the atmosphere itself—drawing the notice of beings outside the Earth.
"This is… no way… Have the seeds sown millions of years ago finally sprouted? Hahaha…"
Tens of millions of light-years from Earth, a colossal white being laughed with delight.
"Brothers! Brothers! Wake up! Wake up! Look—"
The white giant glanced around, realizing only then that he seemed to be alone. He didn't despair. Instead he sighed, murmuring, "It was just a little experiment we arranged long ago, but to think the X-Project has grown this far? Foolish Earth gods… heh heh… this match—our Celestials have won."
Down on Earth, people had no idea this battle had attracted the attention of the higher extraterrestrial lifeforms who'd run experiments here ages past—the Celestials.
They all stared at the sky, nerves taut. In their hearts they howled the same thing over and over: "Mutual destruction! Mutual destruction! Mutual destruction!"
At worst, let that baldy win!
High above, Apocalypse stared blankly at Saitama, a hint of surprise—maybe even approval—touching his expression. "Ah… so that's it… I see it… I see it… I've lost. Truly…"
Muttering, he began to swell, his body expanding without stop until—abruptly—he burst.
His body could no longer bear that many powers.
Boom—
Countless rays of light flared across the heavens, spreading to the four corners of the world. The radiance shone on every corner of the planet.
[Current global remaining number of mutants at 1%, 2%, 3%...]
"Huh?" Saitama blinked, then finally understood: upon Apocalypse's death, the vast stores of energy related to the X-Gene that he had hoarded were returning to their original owners.
But what followed immediately slipped out of control.
[Final result: the current global number of mutants is 3.1 billion. Confirmation complete. Current number of humans: 0.]
"What?" Saitama was completely stunned.
"What just happened?"
Meanwhile, in the ruined castle, Magneto slowly opened his eyes. A delighted grin spread across his face. "I won the bet. I won the bet! Hahaha! So the legend about Apocalypse was true. Saitama—if it's you, of course you could do it!"
[Apocalypse absorbed Magneto's power. Contained within Magneto's ability was the potential to induce the awakening of dormant X-Genes in ordinary humans. After Apocalypse's amplification, upon his death the stored X-Gene potential was magnified tens of thousands of times and redistributed to all humans—enough to convert humanity into mutants.]
"Huh? So does that mean I'm now…" Saitama scratched his cheek.
[No. At present, a small portion of humanity has not become mutants. Broadly speaking, 'human' refers to everyone, not solely those with an awakenable mutant identity.]
"I don't get it," Saitama said, expression blank.
[In short: there exist hybrids—offspring of aliens and humans—and there are humans whose X-Gene has degenerated so completely that even atavism is impossible. For these people, the surge could not induce mutation.]
"Ah. Still don't get it." He rubbed his head.
But anyway…
It didn't sound like there was anything he needed to do right now?
Saitama drifted down and, utterly unconcerned, walked toward Professor X. "Hey, so, should we run now?"
He spoke casually, as if he had no idea what he'd just done.
Professor X gave a wry smile. Maybe he'd been overthinking it all along. He plopped down on the ground, glancing at the still-unconscious Mystique with nothing to say. Beast covered his forehead with a bitter smile, equally speechless.
Soon, with Apocalypse dead, helicopters once again encircled the trio. This time, the voices on the loudspeakers were different.
"We're here to negotiate. We have no hostile intent."
Negotiate? Negotiate what?
Professor X stared, baffled. When they got no response, a chopper hovered in place and ten rope ladders unrolled from above. A man in his thirties descended, followed by twenty soldiers. The troops formed up around him.
Professor X glanced at their insignia—the man was a lieutenant general, and even the soldiers were at least field officers. Despite their rank, every one of them looked… afraid.
(End of Chapter)
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