Several million yen a month—an astronomical sum the penniless Saitama wouldn't dare dream of.
With that cash, he could gorge on high-grade beef and still sweep the supermarket on clearance day.
High-grade beef—let's do this!
Suited up, Saitama vaulted skyward and bounded straight for the Hero Association.
Watching the impatient Saitama, King shook his head and lifted off using psychokinesis.
Just then, his phone buzzed again. The call was from the Hero Association.
Another monster disaster?
Strange—Dragon-level threats aside, they never page me at this hour, and the original timeline had no Dragon-level threats now.
Puzzled, King answered.
Instantly, Sitch's frantic voice crackled through, crashes echoing behind him.
"Mr. KING, are you free? Please come to Hero Association HQ—urgent!"
"Got it."
King hung up, already guessing what was happening.
Perfect—he could settle Saitama's registration and Tornado's promise at once.
He shot forward, overtaking the still-bounding Saitama.
"Saitama, wrong way. Top-tier heroes apply at A-City HQ—hop on, I'll ferry you."
Saitama scratched his head, barely hearing KING above the howling wind.
"Aight!"
Watching King soar freely while he kept hopping along, Saitama felt a pang of envy.
Damn it, I want to fly—but humans can't.
Wait—idea!
Saitama's simple face sharpened; muscles erupted with star-like power.
[Serious Series • Serious Air-Stepping]
Mid-leap, he stomped the void at invisible speed, kicking up a violent cyclone below.
Pure force compressed the air until it collapsed underfoot.
Legs wreathed in friction-flames, he sprinted on nothing, keeping pace with King overhead.
King glanced down.
?????
Dude, that's just cheating.
Then again, this was the logic-defying Bald Demon King—he let it go.
Can't argue with a walking cheat code.
King could replicate it, but only for seconds before needing to land and recharge.
Halfway there, a thought struck him.
The Hero Association's rules were rigid; even with The Strongest Man on the Surface vouching, Saitama still had to test in.
Physicals were a lock, but the written half? Saitama wouldn't scrape half marks.
King pulled the last exam from memory—basic questions any normal adult could ace for 40/50.
Given Saitama's strength-simplified brain, lousy scores made sense.
To soften the blow, King decided on a warm-up quiz.
"Saitama, the Association makes you sit a written test. Let me toss you a few softballs."
Saitama kept windmilling his legs and flashed an OK sign.
King pondered, then fired the first question.
"Question one: a monster appears before civilians are evacuated—what do you do?"
Saitama's eyes glazed; he answered without hesitation.
"Punch it to bits."
King: "…"
Knew it.
Power had whittled his thinking down to one lane—why overcomplicate when one punch works?
Still hoping, King asked the second.
"Question two: what's the single most important trait of a hero?"
Saitama: "The strength to one-shot monsters."
"Three: why did you become a hero, and what will you do after?"
Saitama: "For fun and money. After? Beat monsters, I guess."
King: "…"
He'd be lucky to hit twenty-five points!
He face-palmed; Saitama had devolved into a single-cell organism—fastest solution equals best solution.
King tried a new angle.
"Pretend you're weak. If the monster's stronger, how would you answer?"
Switch perspectives… Saitama's mind flickered back to the weak, hairy self of old.
Back then he'd get pummeled daily, yet burned to grow stronger.
Ah—look at it as the weakling I was.
From that lens, the questions changed.
His vacant eyes stirred; he murmured,
"If those are the questions, I think I know what to write."
No canned answers—just remember the original heart and sincerity; that's the best reply.
Seeing the light-bulb moment, King exhaled in relief.
With luck, no catastrophic answers… Hero Association.
Objects swirled mid-air, wrapped in green light; the place was trashed.
Staff members cowered while Sitch, drenched in sweat, forced himself to speak.
"Tornado, KING's on his way—please calm down and put the furniture back?"
Green curls whipping, Tornado hovered overhead, glaring down in annoyance…