Saitama sensed there was more he could do with what had just happened.
"You all saw that," he said. "There were only thirteen of us, and we repelled the Decepticons' first sneak attack."
"For us, that proves one thing: Decepticon machines aren't unbeatable."
The girl muttered, "Come on… you did most of that by yourself."
Saitama beckoned her closer. "That's where you're wrong, kid. This wasn't just me."
"Andrew protected you. You've got your robot boyfriend at your side. And your boyfriend scanned the bot we just scrapped and confirmed it was a Decepticon unit cobbled together with Cybertronian tech."
"All of that together is why we won."
"We've already got ourselves a team whether you admit it or not," Saitama went on. "Some of us can stand toe-to-toe with Decepticons. Some can analyze their gear. Some can lead us through this city to save more people who need help."
His words lit a fire in everyone listening. Andrew's eyes even went red. He and his soldiers had done so much for so long without recognition—yet here Saitama was, seeing them clearly. Ordinary, maybe—but extraordinary in what they chose to do.
Heroes weren't just capes; sometimes they were the light in a night so dark it made people believe again. And right now, that light looked a lot like a bald man in a cape.
"So—come with us, kid. We need you."
He didn't pressure her, just spoke as equals. At last, the girl nodded.
"Heh. You don't look like a bad guy. I'll trust you—this once."
"Then let's move."
Not long after they set out, Starscream crawled up onto the heap where Saitama had received the knight's badge. Click, click. He snapped detailed shots of the copper-green mech.
"L-Lord Megatron, I found this robot right where Saitama was."
High-res images raced across the Decepticon network to Megatron's display.
"Good," Megatron rumbled. "I'll credit you for now. Kill Saitama and I'll discuss rewards."
"Thank you, my lord!"
"And where is Barricade?"
"R-Reporting, my lord—layers of traps are in place. We're waiting for Saitama's group to enter the kill box."
"Excellent."
Metal ground between Megatron's fingers until a sphere powdered. He had already pieced together rumors on this planet about the Guardian Knights—and the images Starscream sent matched one of those Knights passed down from the lineage that opposed Unicron.
"Wait for me. I'll take back everything I lost with my own hands."
He shoved the crushed metal into his maw—crunch, crunch—and this time, he would lead the hunt himself.
City 2.
Saitama led Andrew, the girl, and the others along the avenues. Every few blocks they pinged the airwaves: heroes were here—were there civilians who needed help?
People emerged from alleys, one after another. As the rescued ranks swelled, Saitama noticed his "city reputation" ticking up fast.
It didn't last.
A voice boomed from a high-rise ahead.
"Saitama! Did you think we wouldn't notice you? Look what I've got!"
"Aah! Somebody help me, please!"
They looked up. A Decepticon stamped with the sigil lounged on the rooftop. Dangling from one razor-like toe was a young Latino man, whimpering.
Decepticons were made to kill; even a talon-tip was sharp enough to cleave a human in two. There was no way a normal person could hang from that and live for long.
Wind keened over the roof. The hostage swayed, a speck against the sky. Anyone who knew the movies would recognize him—the same hapless kid the male lead once roped into a junkyard gig. Nobody had believed him back then, not the Autobots hiding in the junkyard, not his boss, not his classmates. He was a forgettable nobody.
And in a story like this, nobodies seemed to attract the worst luck.
Today, Thundercracker had him.
"If I'd known Decepticons were here, I'd never have come to shop!" the kid bawled. "Please, mighty Decepticon sir, spare a small fry like me! I don't even have a girlfriend—but I still gotta pay my U.S. student loans!"
No one answered him. Everyone was caught between Saitama and Thundercracker, where pressure thickened like the air before a storm.
Whump—
A missile kicked off Thundercracker's arm. Its backwash singed the hostage's hair into curls.
Saitama jumped—and in the next instant, a single punch intercepted the warhead, scattering it to shrapnel. He landed on the roof.
"Let him go."
"Heehee… I was waiting for you to say that," Thundercracker crooned. With a flick, the toe-spike sliced the hostage's shirt. The kid tumbled from a thousand-foot ledge.
"Hero—your move," Thundercracker taunted. "Do you save the human? Or do you try to knock me out?"
Beneath the bluster, he wasn't nearly as clumsy as he looked. He knew how to bait human mercy—and he'd turned this skyscraper into a layered trap to spring the moment Saitama committed.
Only Saitama didn't step into it.
Arms folded, he stood at the edge, unblinking. "You think you've got this wrapped up," he said softly. "Actually, not so."
(End of Chapter)
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