It was evening, in the uninhabited zone of Z-City.
In the desolate, silent ghost town, a solitary apartment building glowed with warm light.
Saitama's small, found apartment was uncharacteristically crowded at this moment.
Under the bright lights, several figures of varying heights clustered around an old, low-legged table, scavenged from who-knows-where.
The flickering light filled the room with the cozy, lived-in warmth of a "home."
On the table, a mandarin duck hotpot, perched on an induction cooker, was bubbling and steaming.
One side held a rich, milky white bone broth, while the other was a spicy hell of red oil.
The rich aroma of meat broth, mixed with a dominant spiciness, aggressively permeated every inch of air in the small space, incredibly enticing.
"Oh, oh! Let's eat, let's eat!"
Saitama, whose intestines were already tied in knots from hunger, his eyes shining, stared intently at the premium wagyu slices, verdant vegetables, and various chewy meatballs floating and unfurling in the pot, his mouth uncontrollably watering.
He was treating today, using the tuition fee his disciple, Genos, had just paid.
Therefore, when he went grocery shopping afterward, he completely let loose, filling his cart with high-end ingredients like top-grade marbled wagyu and black pork belly, items whose prices usually made his heart ache just to look at.
Money he got for free was just so satisfying to spend!
So, there was a reason why his poor-B nature was always deeply ingrained.
Wealth always inadvertently slipped away through various channels.
This time, it went through the esophagus.
Han Sen, meanwhile, sat cross-legged opposite Saitama, always the distinguished guest bringing his own top-tier ingredients.
Besides the freshest king crabs and bluefin tuna belly scoured from the market, his Imaginary Nation also always had Dragon-level special ingredients containing immense life energy, such as "100,000-year-old wild ginseng."
For ordinary people, every bite of these special ingredients was a miraculous elixir for complete transformation.
The prerequisite was having a strong enough stomach to withstand that immense energy.
Otherwise, mutating into a Monster on the spot after eating them would be the best outcome.
It proved that even in the One-Punch world, where Monsters ran rampant, humans still stood at the top of the food chain.
Especially for Saitama and his group, who often used Monsters as a source of protein, eating special ingredients that others dared not touch had long become commonplace.
Beside Han Sen sat a petite presence whose aura was so low it almost froze the air.
Terrible Tornado.
She wasn't wearing her hero costume, the high-slit black long dress, but had changed into a large white shirt that clearly belonged to Han Sen.
The long shirttail was enough to cover her perky buttock line, creating the illusion of no bottoms, revealing a pair of slender, straight, beautiful legs, as if carved from top-grade mutton-fat jade.
Her small, fair feet were bare, the snowy white arch of her foot tensed into a graceful curve, and her ten round, adorable toes curled and spread in annoyance due to her owner's displeasure, as if silently protesting.
She held her hands clasped across her chest, a pose that made her A-cup chest slightly fuller, creating a small, suggestive curve that stretched the oversized shirt.
Her signature emerald green curly hair was casually disheveled, and her emerald eyes, usually sharp as knives, now scanned this narrow, dilapidated apartment with disdain.
From suspicious mold spots in the corner to spiderweb-like cracks on the ceiling, nothing met her approval.
"Tsk."
Tatsumaki's slender, fair fingers unconsciously tapped lightly on her smooth, silken forearm, her brow furrowed into a knot.
If Han Sen hadn't invited her in a way that inexplicably made her feel weak and soft-kneed, she swore she would never set foot in such a strange place located in the middle of nowhere!
This was also a deeper reason...
After all the absurd private moments they had, Tatsumaki knew better than anyone what her fate would be once she fell into Han Sen's hands.
That man, as gentle and considerate as he was on dates outside, was just as crazy when it came to "getting down to business" in their private space!
—Damn that bastard!
—Why is Psychokinesis training so difficult, ahhhhhh—!
Tatsumaki never dreamed that one day she would be physically and mentally exhausted by the act of training her Psychokinesis.
Before this, her natural growth rate of Psychokinesis was enough to overwhelm a hundred Fubukis.
(Fubuki: ?)
But when she first felt her power growth was too slow and sought a breakthrough, she realized she had no clue how to actively become stronger!
And that devil, in a way she was too embarrassed to speak of, opened the door to a new world for her...
Just as Tatsumaki's thoughts were scattered and a blush involuntarily crept onto her cheeks, a rich aroma of meat pulled her back to reality.
Han Sen, at some point, had already brought a perfectly cooked, sauce-covered piece of premium wagyu to her lips.
His movements were fluid, as if he had done it a thousand times.
Under the table, a warm, large hand silently covered her smooth thigh, caressing it with light, even pressure.
The rough touch from the calluses on his palm instantly stiffened Tatsumaki's body, and she missed half a breath.
"Thinking about how to get stronger?"
Han Sen leaned close to her ear, his warm breath fanning her sensitive earlobe, and chuckled in a voice only they could hear, "Just thinking won't do any good. We'll have a practical special training session tonight."
"You...!"
Tatsumaki's face instantly flushed crimson, burning from her cheeks all the way down to her fair neck.
She abruptly turned her head, her emerald eyes, burning with shame and furious anger, glared fiercely at Han Sen, her pearly teeth biting down hard on her lower lip, yet not daring to make too much noise lest others hear.
This expression, a mix of shame and anger, wanting to resist yet completely subdued, made the smile on Han Sen's lips deepen.
"Good girl, open your mouth," he said softly in a commanding tone, pushing the chopsticks forward again.
Tatsumaki's gaze struggled for a moment, but in the end, that ingrained pride lost to her body's honest reaction.
Since the outcome was unavoidable, then...
She might as well enjoy the process first!
She suddenly turned her head, avoiding Han Sen's chopsticks.
Psychokinesis instantly activated, snatching the beef, and she stuffed it into her mouth with a loud "awu."
As if transforming all her shame and anger into appetite, she chewed vigorously without any regard for her image, her tense, pretty face softening slightly as a result.
Mmm, so delicious!
In the corner of the room, King, as always, exuded an aura of a strong individual who should not be approached, striving to minimize his presence.
In the hotpot group, his status as the family's younger brother had always been as solid as a mountain.
Especially when he saw that even Terrible Tornado, the Hero Association's S-Class Rank 2, who was rumored to be so short-tempered she could overturn headquarters, had been pulled into the group by Han Sen.
King became even more filled with doubt and resentment about whether he would be able to snatch any meat on this dinner table in the future.
—It's too terrifying! Besides me, everyone at this table is some kind of world-destroying Monster...
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