"Do you really think I'd let you run?"
As Iaian shouted for the civilians to flee, the alien who had severed his arm—Melzargard, one of Boros's three top lieutenants—was already behind him, raising the arm he'd transformed into a massive sword high overhead.
"Damn it!"
Iaian knew he probably couldn't dodge this.
"Hey. How can you bully my student like that?"
Slash—!
Just as Iaian braced to fight to the death, a cold voice sounded behind him. Hearing it, warmth flooded Iaian's chest. He knew the real powerhouse—his teacher, the S-Class hero Atomic Samurai—had arrived.
Before Iaian could fully turn around, a razor-sharp killing intent swept through the air. In a storm of crisscrossing cuts, Melzargard was reduced to countless fragments.
"Teacher, you have to be careful—his ability is really bad news for swordsmen!"
Even missing an arm, Iaian didn't forget to warn him.
"Hm?"
Atomic Samurai blinked—and in the next second, the Melzargard he'd diced into pieces re-formed back into his original shape.
"Die, you stupid Earthling!"
Melzargard roared. Being chopped into mince by some "primitive" had humiliated him beyond belief. He was one of Boros's three top fighters—how could he be cut down by a mere local?! He wanted revenge!
"Getting cut up like that and still coming back… that's honestly surprising."
Atomic Samurai frowned at the fully restored Melzargard.
"Hahahaha…!"
"Even without anyone's help, I, Melzargard, am still an invincible existence!"
"Die!"
He bellowed, ready to attack again.
"Boring."
"A swordsman's only good for this much, at best."
The instant Melzargard moved, a disdainful, high-pitched voice rang out through his earpiece. A petite girl with wild, tentacle-like curls had appeared at his side at some point. One hand pointed at the sky—lifting dozens of apartment buildings—while her other hand pointed straight at Melzargard.
In an instant, Melzargard's body locked up.
Then he realized he was floating—completely out of his own control.
"Oh?"
"Tatsumaki, huh…?"
Atomic Samurai glanced at her and could only shake his head. He pretended not to hear her cutting remark. Honestly, if there was anyone in this world Atomic Samurai absolutely didn't want to mess with, Tatsumaki was one of them.
As a martial artist, there were two rules he tried to keep: first, he didn't like hitting women. Second, he didn't like fighting people who weren't fighters.
Tatsumaki checked both boxes.
And there was a third, even bigger reason:
He couldn't beat her.
"Telekinesis?! This planet has telekinesis at this level?! Damn it—Geryuganshoop, save me!"
While Atomic Samurai was shaking his head, Melzargard—held in place by psychic power—was already being dragged high into the air. His body warped and compressed as if crushed by an invisible vise. Feeling the sheer pressure of Tatsumaki's power, his face went pale and he screamed into his communicator.
"Groribas—go. You're the strongest among us, so you handle Melzargard down there and wipe out these locals. Leave this place to me alone. The strongest one among them is probably the psychic who deflected our ship's missiles and is controlling Melzargard right now. That idiot actually got caught by a mere local telekinetic… what a waste. I can't leave the control room so easily, otherwise I'd go myself and show that psychic just how vast the universe really is—and just how powerful a true telekinetic can be!"
Geryuganshoop sounded utterly confident. He was sure a backwater planet like Earth couldn't possibly have a psychic on his level—let alone someone stronger.
"Got it. I'll go have a proper look at them soon."
"And you can relax. As soon as I make a move, nothing can go wrong—because I'm invincible."
"But before that, I've got something more important to deal with. Can't you feel it? A powerful enemy is getting closer to us!"
Speaking with Geryuganshoop was a monster whose arms were topped with enormous heads—three grotesque, Venus flytrap-like maws in total. This was Groribas, the strongest of Boros's three lieutenants.
His signature move was an insanely corrosive acid that could melt enemies down completely.
Right now, he stood at his post, quietly waiting—because he could smell it.
The scent of an enemy.
Inside the ship, a man in a white bodysuit strolled through the corridors with his hands behind his back, as if this weren't the flagship of some cosmic warlord at all—more like his personal playground.
Boom—!
As the man swaggered down the hallway, admiring the ship's construction while he walked, a thunderous clang echoed. Dozens of armed aliens poured in through a metal passageway door that had opened beside him.
"Earthling. Boarding this ship is the biggest mistake you'll ever make."
The aliens raised their guns, sneering at the completely unremarkable-looking Jovian.
"Bzzzt…"
Jovian didn't bother saying a word. He simply looked at them—friendly as can be—with those ordinary eyes glowing a deep crimson.
The aliens were as fragile as cucumbers freshly rinsed under the tap.
He only glanced at them once—then they were all split clean in half.
Red ketchup-like gore splattered across the floor. A few of the tougher "cucumbers" were still barely alive even after being cut in two…
Jovian ignored the ones clinging to life and kept walking.
Along the way, he ran into countless aliens trying to ambush him…
In Jovian's eyes, they were all just more "cucumbers." And whenever those tasty little cucumbers showed up, Jovian would simply stop where he was—
"Bzzzt…"
"Huff… huff… huff…!"
"Oh great, please—whatever god is listening—don't let me run into that lunatic!"
A slug-like alien hid in his room, gasping for breath while praying under his breath. He didn't dare step outside. He'd seen it from around a corner—he'd seen that monster with laser eyes.
His buddies… all those slug-people from his homeworld… had been butchered by that thing. Green blood everywhere.
It was terrifying.
Tap… tap… tap…
As he stayed in his room and kept praying, footsteps drifted into his ears.
"Gulp…"
"Please… please don't stop out there…"
Hearing the sound, the slug-alien swallowed hard. He held his breath, not daring to make a single noise, praying that whatever was outside would move on and spare him—an innocent alien who'd done nothing wrong.
Tap… tap… tap…
Under the weight of his prayers, the footsteps slowed…
Then stopped.
Right outside his door.
Murphy's Law: the more you don't want something to happen, the more it insists on happening anyway.
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