Someone was here.
Jack's eyes sharpened to blades. His mind cleared instantly, every sense snapping to full alert.
"Keen perception."
A cold, rasping voice emerged from the darkness, accompanied by the faint rustle of carapace plates grinding together. A tall, muscular figure—green, imposing, insectoid—slowly materialized from the shadows.
"As expected of the promising newcomer Great Eyes mentioned. His judgment remains as sharp as ever."
[Monster: Bug God]
[Disaster Level: Demon (Upper)
]**
[Ability 1: "Insectoid Physique (SR)"
]** : A powerful physique granting astonishing insectile strength and speed. Capable of super-high-velocity movement and close-quarters combat.]
[Ability 2: "Iron Wall Armor (SR)"
]** : Tough flesh and carapace provide formidable defense, like an iron wall.]
[Ability 3: "Molting Liberation (SR)"
]** : Sheds skin to grow six additional arms and functional wings. Carapace develops numerous spikes, transforming the entire body into a living weapon.]
[Ability 4: "Six-Arm Consecutive Strikes (SR)"
]** : High-speed combination attacks in Molting Liberation form. Each strike carries enough force to easily destroy steel.]
The system panel populated automatically, but Jack didn't need the prompt. He recognized this Monster instantly.
In the original work, Bug God was a Demon-level combatant of the Monster Association. He and his partner, Royal Ripper, had successfully captured Garou in their first encounter. His strength was formidable—genuinely among the ceiling of Demon-class threats.
Yes, after transforming, he'd been brutally one-shotted by Superalloy Darkshine, the number one physical-type hero under Saitama's umbrella. But that said nothing about Bug God's weakness and everything about Darkshine's absurdity.
"Bug God." Jack's voice was low, controlled. He noted that the other hadn't attacked immediately. "What brings you to my territory?"
"Oh? You recognize me. Saves me the trouble of introductions."
Bug God casually tossed the cloth sack he'd been carrying. It landed at Jack's feet with a dull thud—and the contents wiggled.
"Great Eyes asked me to deliver something. And to pass along a message." His mandibles clicked rhythmically as he recited: "'I still have use for those low-level Monsters. They can't be killed off so easily.' That's roughly the gist."
He paused. Then his posture shifted.
"And, as a senior, I thought I'd impart some necessary rules to a newcomer."
His neck twisted. His fists clenched. The carapace-covered insectile arms suddenly bulged with swollen, corded muscle. His eyes—narrow, predatory, fixed on Jack like prey—gleamed with unmistakable murderous intent.
"Heh heh… no need to thank me. The process might involve some pain. I do hope you survive it."
Jack's gaze dropped to the sack at his feet. The trembling contents confirmed what he'd already suspected.
Monster Cells. The new week's quota.
So Psykos hadn't forgotten her promise. That made things easier.
"Tch… rules?"
Jack's lips curled. Crimson patterns, like molten lava veins, blazed to life across his onyx Spike Armor. A scorching heatwave blasted outward, scouring dust from the stone floor. His aura—already far exceeding a standard Demon-level in its resting state—erupted with a roar.
"Here… my rules are the rules."
Bug God's expression flickered—just for an instant. Then his scythe-like mandibles clacked together, sparking. A disdainful snort escaped.
"Heh… interesting."
*Tch—! *
A sharp, piercing crack split the air.
A green afterimage tore through the space between them, trailing a wake of shredded wind.
*BOOM—! *
A dark lightning bolt, wreathed in crimson patterns, answered in kind.
The next second, two fists—one black, one green, both sheathed in unyielding carapace—collided head-on. The shockwave rippled outward, spiderwebbing cracks across the stone walls of the nest.
Dust erupted. Both figures rocketed backward from the recoil.
Bug God swayed, took two steps, and regained his balance.
Jack carved five shallow furrows into the rocky ground before arresting his retreat.
One exchange. The victor seemed clear.
*Crack. *
Bug God opened his mouth to commend the junior's strength—and froze.
His gaze dropped. A clean crack spiderwebbed across the arm guard of his right arm. The same arm that had met Jack's fist.
Then the pain arrived, sharp and belated.
His eyes widened in disbelief. Great Eyes herself had certified his carapace—its iron-wall defense was rated sufficient to withstand attacks from ordinary Dragon-level Monsters.
And it had shattered in a single exchange with a junior?
"Impossible…!"
"Eat shit, senior."
Jack had already regained his footing. He rolled his shoulder, shaking out the residual numbness from the impact. Behind his grotesque, featureless dark faceplate, a smirk flickered.
"Reflect damage armor. Ever heard of it?"
The black spikes along his form glinted with a deep, metallic luster. Then—actively, deliberately—his Spike Armor swelled. Cracks spread along its surface. And from those seams, streaks of cyan cyclone erupted, howling into the cavern air.
Vast life force ignited through every fiber of his muscles, burning like fuel in a furnace. Behind his dark, jagged silhouette, the terrifying phantom of a primordial beast seemed to flicker into existence—an illusion born of pure pressure.
Overgrowth.
Fierce Beast Body.
Swift Wind.
One by one, the inherent enhancement buffs of his SSR abilities flared to full activation. Jack's already formidable aura detonated upward, surging past previous limits.
The terrifying metrics—values that transcended standard disaster level classifications—began to manifest.
His figure blurred. And vanished.
In that instant, every trace of disdain evaporated from Bug God's mind. His Demon-level upper combat instincts screamed to maximum overdrive.
*BANG—! *
His raised elbow caught a high-speed strike that materialized from his left like a phantom. But his nearly instantaneous counter—a vicious high kick—sliced through nothing but dissipating afterimages.
*BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG—!! *
Punch. Knee. Elbow smash. Wrist lock. Side kick. Headbutt.
Normal attacks, chained seamlessly into an unbroken storm of offense. Each strike amplified by strength and speed that had transcended normal parameters. Raw technique stripped away—replaced by pure, distilled violence.
The dark nest echoed with a cacophony of violence: fists impacting flesh, carapace shattering in continuous cascades, sharp air tears from movement too fast to track.
Jack's high-speed assault was completely unreasonable. No finesse. No strategy. Just overwhelming, relentless pressure.
Bug God lasted less than ten exchanges before devolving from barely resisting to full-time punching bag.
His arm carapace fractured inch by inch. Cracks spiderwebbed across his torso armor. A brutal knee strike caved in a section of his chest.
An uppercut, swung from the darkness, caught him beneath the jaw. A muffled grunt escaped as his massive frame lifted slightly—and then a desperate, full-body front kick, delivered with the force of a runaway train, slammed into his core.
The shoulder spikes, serving as a living battering ram, transferred every ounce of that force into Bug God's body. His two-meter-thirty frame became a green cannonball, hurtling backward to embed itself deep in the nest's rock wall.
*RUMBLE— *
The ground shuddered. Shattered rock cascaded down.
Jack's territory endured another minor earthquake.
The Monsters still inhabiting the lair barely twitched. They'd grown accustomed to this.
Ever since the new boss took over, similar disturbances happened several times a day. If a day passed without an earth-shaking commotion, they'd almost feel something was off.