"This is bad... She can defeat Fuhrer Ugly like your everyday thug. It's time for us to combined."
Black Sperm's combined voices shook the battlefield.
"UNITY OF PERFECTION!"
A blinding golden flash erupted, forcing heroes to shield their eyes. When the light faded, a tall, perfectly sculpted figure stood. Golden skin, arrogant posture — a smug smile curving his lips.
Golden Sperm had arrived.
He cracked his knuckles casually, like an athlete warming up.
"Fuhrer Ugly… such a weakling. I suppose beauty triumphs once again."
Above, perched on rubble like a fallen god, a ragged man lifted his hand. Orbs of cold, pure light floated behind him like miniature suns waiting to kill.
The Homeless Emperor sneered.
"Hmph. Ugly trash gets erased, and now golden trash appears. Heroes, monsters… all stains upon this world. Let me clean it."
He pointed downward.
"Straight Line Bombardment."
Beams of holy light rained from the sky, divine judgment crashing toward the heroes.
Before they struck—a clock chime echoed.
"Toki yo Tomare."
Kurumi descended gracefully from swirling black feathers, a smile curling her lips.
"I can't let you ruin my fun before the main event."
She aimed her flintlock at each incoming light sphere, firing bullets of compressed time. They hung frozen mid-explosion, motion locked like glass sculptures.
Time resumed—
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM! The paused blasts detonated harmlessly in the air, redirected away from the heroes.
Kurumi floated down beside Zombie Man, who was reloading calmly despite being riddled with burn marks and holes.
"Need a hand, Mr. Immortal Soldier~?" she teased.
Zombie Man adjusted his ruined coat and cig. "You're not a hero."
Kurumi winked. "Nope. But I dislike arrogant jerks."
Homeless Emperor's eyes widened in fury. "You… you dare mock divine punishment?!"
Zombie Man stepped forward, tone flat and fearless. "Whatever god backs you… I'll kill it too."
Kurumi twirled her rifle, eyes glinting crimson. "And I'll make sure you suffer as many times as necessary until we win."
Behind them, the sky lit gold. Golden Sperm clashing with S-Class heroes while Morgan's cursed storm still buzzed through the air from her last attack.
But here — a new battlefield formed.
"Blasphemers! I will erase you in the name of perfection!" Homeless Emperor says.
Dozens of holy spheres swirled behind him.
Kurumi raised her hands, and the air shimmered.
Dozens of glowing orbs spiraled around her and each one birthing a sun, a moon, a fleeting heartbeat of creation.
But then… the earth below stirred.
Cracked asphalt shifted, whispering in a thousand dry voices.
And at the center, walking between them like a monarch of the night, a woman stepped forward.
Her cloak rippled with living shadow. Her presence pulsed with crimson and violet mana. Her golden clock-eye turned, ticking in rhythm with the heartbeat of the dead.
Kurumi Tempest.
"You speak of cleansing," she said softly — voice calm as the silence before a storm. "But all I see… is a man trying to wash away his own rot."
Homeless Emperor trembled, his halo flickering. Rage boiled beneath the cracks of his human mask. "You dare mock me, woman?! I am the will of God!"
Kurumi smiled but her eyes did not.
"You claim purity while drowning in despair." Her revolver rose, and her voice grew colder. "A fitting soul for my collection."
Homeless Emperor ascended, divine light bursting from his body, spheres of energy forming like miniature suns.
"Then let God's light erase you!"
The sky's blazed white.
Kurumi giggled. Softly at first, then like a lullaby sung at the end of the world.
Three voices — hers — overlapped in perfect, terrifying harmony:
"Zafkiel! Releasing control art restriction, Level Zero."
The world stopped.
Not slowed but ceased.
Then the night unfolded.
A sea of undead soldiers stood beneath the frozen sky, their weapons drawn, their armor burning with crimson sigils. Behind Kurumi, thousands of shadow doubles materialized — each Kurumi smirking with mirrored malice.
And among them, from the bleeding edges of time itself, her familiars rose — monstrous silhouettes born of Kurumi's abyss, crawling through the veil between existence and nightmare.
Then—
Time resumed.
Homeless Emperor's divine light dimmed in horror.
All around him, the dead moved.
They climbed shattered towers like insects.
They swarmed the streets, roaring in ghostly unity.
Countless red eyes glowed in the dark.
A black ocean of gazes fixed on him from every direction.
The Queen of Eternal Midnight smiled — soft, serene, merciless. Her shadow army raised their weapons as her voice echoed across frozen air:
"Let the Abyss strike your end, False Saint."
The sky cracked.
Homeless Emperor roared, his halo bursting into a sphere of blinding divinity. Thousands of radiant orbs ignited around him, filling the heavens like a storm of newborn suns.
"Begone, abomination! I'll cleanse this world of your filth!"
He unleashed his judgment.
Each orb screamed as it tore through the night, detonating across the battlefield. Buildings vaporized. Streets melted into rivers of glass. The air burned white.
And yet the dead did not fall.
When the dust cleared, the ashes moved.
Charred bones reformed. Shattered armor reknit with flowing shadow. Torn banners ignited into wings of black flame.
Through the storm, laughter echoed — soft, melodic, and inhuman.
Kurumi stood atop a colossal clock-face, floating amidst the wreckage. Crimson sigils pulsed beneath her feet, and time's hands spun forward and backward in endless madness.
Every second that passed, another revenant emerged, stepping from the clock's face — each one a reflection born from a different fragment of time.
"Your light," she whispered as a thousand selves leveled their rifles, "is fragile."
Time fractured.
Bullets, beams, and spells converged in a kaleidoscope of destruction. The sky became a storm of mirrored timelines — hundreds of Kurumis firing in perfect, overlapping symphony.
Homeless Emperor's halo cracked under the barrage. His flesh corroded, sizzling under necrotic light. Still, he resisted, summoning hundreds more spheres with trembling defiance.
"I AM GOD'S WILL! I CANNOT DIE!"
Kurumi's shadow stretched behind her — vast, crowned, and winged — a monarch born from eternity's end. Her voice carried a thousand echoes, half sorrow, half amusement.
"Then you will die again… and again… until even your soul forgets what it was."
She raised her new weapon, a wand that has a spinning roulette or clock mechanism at the top, ticking against the silence of the world.
"Rasiel: The Book of Ends."
Reality bent.
The divine orbs flickered then vanished before impact, erased from existence.
Homeless Emperor screamed as his body split between being and nothingness, his form flickering like corrupted data.
And then... One crimson bullet.
It pierced his heart.
The sound was small. The silence afterward was infinite.
Only the ticking of Kurumi's clock remained.
Far away, on a crumbling rooftop, the surviving heroes watched in wordless disbelief.
Zombie-Man's cigarette slipped from his lips, hissing as it hit the ground.
"...The hell was that woman?"
Beside him, Artoria Pendragon stood rigid, her invisible blade drawn halfway. Her instincts screamed not from fear, but reverence.
"She wields time and death as one," she murmured. "An unholy synthesis… How could anyone achieve that?"
Next to her, Morgan smirked, eyes glimmering with pride. "How poetic. The fairies weep for light, yet the Queen of Shadows devours it whole. My Master has surpassed my lessons and perfected them. Truly worthy of my guidance."
Artoria exhaled, her tone a blend of exasperation and warning. "No wonder she's like this. You're the one behind it. Just… don't make her another you. One Morgan is enough."
Morgan's eye twitched. "You really enjoy provoking me, don't you?"
____
Pervert Sage: She just summoned more creatures than any forbidden summoning jutsu I've ever seen! Is this… is this the Army of Death no Jutsu?!
Ice General: Beautiful. Elegant. Merciless. This woman is art. I like her. Satria should treasure her. Or she might punished him next.
Kazuma-sama: THE GUY IS SCREAMING BECAUSE HE ARE GETTING ERASED FROM REALITY. I REPEAT: ERASED. FROM. REALITY.
Robin: This is the kind of power I must prepares contingency plans for.
White Lady: The way she said "collection"…
Kinda hot. Kinda terrifying. 50/50.
Spiderman: Yup. This is above my pay grade. I definitely miss the days when I only fighting a thug and bank robbers.
Emilia: She's like a Witch… But a very elegant one… Is this what Satria-kun calls normal?"
Kuroneko: Kurumi-san is not a witch but evil spirit, it's just normal days for him and us."
___
"Another Cadre… falls," Golden Sperm muttered, watching the aftermath of Kurumi's battle. The faint shimmer of molten air still lingered on the horizon. "Just what are you people, huh? You show up out of nowhere and screw everything up like it's nothing."
Satria exhaled a ring of smoke from his cigar, grinning. "Ohhhh, Kurumi and Morgan… truly merciless, those two. Beautiful and terrifying — my kind of ladies."
Golden Sperm crossed his gleaming arms. "Hmph. I don't see the appeal of insanity."
Satria tilted his head, smirk curling. "Maybe you will… soon. Because I'm starting to think you're next."
The golden being grinned, veins pulsing with light. "Your wish! Bring it on! I'll tame whatever you throw at me even that ridiculous purple dragon of yours!"
At his words, Satria's aura shimmered, and the massive purple dragon that loomed behind him dissolved into mist.
"Huh?!" Golden Sperm blinked. "Why'd you call it off?"
Satria's tone turned smooth almost lazy, but with a dangerous edge. "You're a funny creature. Killing you here would be a waste."
Golden Sperm's expression twisted. "Funny?! You call our existence funny?! You'll regret underestimating me!"
With a roar of pride, Golden Sperm launched forward, the ground exploded beneath his feet as he accelerated, his movement nearly invisible to the eye.
But from Satria's perspective… he was crawling.
"Slow," Satria muttered.
His cigar flickered once then vanished from his lips.
"Say," he said quietly, his right leg glowing brighter than the sun, "have you ever been kicked by something faster than light?"
A thunderous crack tore through the ruins. A blinding flash followed and Golden Sperm's body twisted through the air, spiraling like molten gold before crashing into the ground with enough force to shatter the street into a crater.
Satria straightened his coat, brushing off the dust. His golden leg dimmed as the aftershock faded.
He glanced at the smoking crater and smiled faintly.
"Guess that answers my question."
A wet crack echoed across the ruined street.
Golden Sperm's head rolled to a stop several meters away from his twitching body — eyes blank, mouth frozen mid-snarl.
For three full seconds, there was silence.
Then—
His eyelids fluttered.
His jaw twitched.
His eyes darted left and right, filled with absolute disbelief.
'I'm dead. I'm definitely dead. My head is not attached. Why can I still think—?!'
His body suddenly lurched, crawling toward his own head like a headless cockroach made of gold. The two halves snapped back together in a flash of flesh and light.
Golden Sperm staggered upright, clutching his reattached neck.
"Hh—hha… WHAT?! How—!? I died! I KNOW I died! My head was over THERE and my body was over HERE—!!"
Satria dusted off his coat, smirking like he'd just rearranged furniture instead of decapitating a living weapon.
"Told you," he said, tapping his temple with an easy grin. "It's a waste to kill you. Consider that a greeting."
Golden Sperm's eye twitched. "A—A GREETING?! YOU CALL THAT A GREETI—"
Satria raised a finger.
"And, to satisfy your curiosity… let's just say…" His smile sharpened. "…I'm a talented doctor."
He wasn't joking.
Decapitated heads could survive for seconds with enough oxygen. And with the Ope Ope no Mi — the ultimate surgical Devil Fruit combined with his mastery over time manipulation those seconds might as well be eternity. Organs rearranged, nerves reconnected, life pulled back from the void as casually as flicking a switch.
Not to mention the other absurd powers he carried.
Golden Sperm felt his freshly reattached spine tingle.
"…You're not right in the head either, huh?! You— you'll PAY for this!"
Satria shrugged. "Probably. But not today."
Artoria Pendragon blinked several times, trying to process what she had just witnessed.
"That man… reattached a decapitated monster in seconds." She tightened her grip on her invisible blade. "His power is truly weird yet it's rivals divine mysteries."
Beside her, Kurumi giggled behind her hand. "My, my. Darling can be such a bully." Her crimson eyes glimmered with mischievous delight. "I approve. It's so fun watching boys play with their toys."
Morgan, arms crossed, smirked proudly.
"You're surprised? My Husband always exceeds expectations." She flicked her hair, voice smug. "To him, reconstructing a monster is little harder than rearranging furniture."
Artoria gave her a flat stare. "Your Husband is turning into a menace."
The girl beside the Strongest Man alive in One Punch Man World stumbled forward, breathing hard. Fubuki—normally composed—looked desperate as she clutched the limp body in her arms.
"D-Doctor? If he's a doctor—then… can he help my Onee-chan?! She's… she's not in good condition!" Her voice cracked as she lowered Tatsumaki, who was barely conscious, her psychic aura flickering like a dying flame.
Kurumi tilted her head, feathers drifting around her.
"Oh? This girl…" her crimson eye narrowed with recognition, "She's the esper who fought that giant monster earlier."
Artoria stepped closer, kneeling to examine Tatsumaki's injuries. Deep bruising, ruptured veins from psychic overload—her life force was dangerously unstable.
"It is her," Artoria affirmed. "She fought valiantly until now. And yes—Satria could heal her faster than any medical team here." She let out a small breath. "But whether he does… depends entirely on his mood."
Fubuki's eyes widened in panic. "W-What does that mean?! Is he the type to refuse saving someone?!"
Kurumi giggled softly. "Ufufu~ Not refuse. He simply… prioritizes what interests him." Her gaze drifted to the distant battlefield where Satria was playing like a storm wrapped in flesh. "And right now… he's having fun."
Before Fubuki could snap back—
A roaring surge of water cut through the ruins.
A towering, formless monster—its shape shifting like liquid inside a humanoid outline slid down the street. Heroes lay scattered behind it… A-Class, B-Class, even two S-Ranks—all defeated, their weapons melted or swallowed into its watery form.
"TOO STRONG!" a wounded disciple of Atomic Samurai dragged himself toward Artoria, blood trailing behind him. "No matter what we do… we cannot deal any real damage!"
Artoria knelt and steadied him with her gauntleted hand.
"You fought well," she said calmly. Her warm, knightly tone soothed his despair. "Rest now. I will take over."
The disciple's eyes widened in awe. "Y-You… Lady Knight… be careful. That thing—if it reaches the sea, it's over…"
As he fainted, Morgan's eyes narrowed sharply, analyzing the creature's movement.
"Oh? You're going to face this one, Artoria?" Morgan asked, her tone unusually serious. She flicked her fingers and black lightning crawled across her nails. "This monster… it doesn't move like a normal threat. I can feel it. If it touches the ocean—" she forced out a breath, "—it'll become a global disaster."
Artoria rose to her full height, wind swirling around her as her invisible blade hummed with restrained power.
"I understand."
Kurumi floated beside her, expression bright yet deadly. "Ara~ this world certainly has interesting toys."
Fubuki clutched Tatsumaki tightly, torn between fear and hope.
"Please… someone… please save my sister…"
Artoria stepped forward, Nobility and resolve filling her aura.
"Protect the sisters," she commanded Kurumi and Morgan without looking back.
Then the King of Knights walked straight toward the tide of living water, ready to challenge the monster known as Evil Natural Water.
To be continued...