Tatsumaki crossed her arms, her emerald curly hair swayed without wind, and her delicate small face was taut as she glared down at King:
"King! You! Why didn't you inform me before acting?! Do you think you're so amazing that you can handle everything by yourself?! Do you still have me, the S-Class Hero Rank 2, in your eyes?! Or do you think I can't help?!"
Her voice was rapid and urgent, like a barrage of cannon fire, but listening closely, a hint of imperceptible concern was hidden beneath the angry tone.
King secretly chuckled, looking at the tsundere loli in front of him, who was obviously worried sick but insisted on putting on a show of demanding an explanation.
He knew Tatsumaki too well; that girl was simply hard-mouthed but soft-hearted.
He didn't answer her questions but instead reached out and grabbed her slender wrist.
"Ah!" Tatsumaki exclaimed, her body instantly losing its levitation, and she was effortlessly pulled down from mid-air by King.
"Bastard! What are you doing! Let go of me!" Tatsumaki was both embarrassed and annoyed, her small face flushed red as she tried to break free.
The next second, King pulled his arm back, directly embracing her petite body tightly into his arms.
Tatsumaki's body instantly stiffened, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"You...!" Just as Tatsumaki was about to erupt, King lowered his head slightly, his warm breath brushing her small earlobe, and with a hint of a smile and sincerity, he softly said:
"Thank you for your concern, little Tatsumaki. I made you worry."
The fiercely surging emerald psychic energy around Tatsumaki dissipated without a trace, like a punctured balloon, with a "poof."
Her tensed body visibly softened, but her delicate small face was still turned to the side.
Her fair earlobes were beet red, and she was still stubbornly grumbling:
"Hmph... who, who cared about you! Stop being so self-centered! Idiot... moron... I can't stand conceited guys like you..."
Her voice grew softer and softer, eventually becoming almost inaudible, but her small head unconsciously snuggled further into King's embrace.
The S-Class Heroes around, seeing this scene, were no longer as surprised as last time; they simply exchanged smiles.
Garou leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his gaze falling on the embracing figures in the courtyard, a hint of impatience flashing in his crimson eyes.
"Tch, how boring," he scoffed disdainfully.
In his opinion, romance and affection were nothing but burdens, only hindering his pursuit of the true essence of martial arts.
He truly couldn't understand why King would like such things.
This was simply incomprehensible to Garou; the charm of fisticuffs was far superior to women.
Suddenly, he keenly noticed two burning gazes.
Looking up, he saw Bang scrutinizing him with an inquisitive look, and standing beside him was that familiar white-haired old man... Silver fang.
Garou's pupils slightly contracted, and the muscles under his armor unconsciously tensed.
Even after monsterification, he could still feel a faint pang deep in his chest.
It was a long-buried, complex emotion that even he himself was unwilling to admit.
Bang nudged his brother with his elbow, "Is that him?"
Bang didn't answer immediately.
He quietly watched the figure leaning by the door; although the other party was covered in grotesque dark red armor, and his crimson pupils were no longer human eyes.
But the old man still slowly nodded.
How could he not recognize him?
That was the disciple he had personally taught, the young man who had sweated profusely in the dojo, the one who made him both proud and heartbroken... Garou.
"Long time no see, Garou," Bang said, stepping forward with Silverfang to stand before Garou, his voice as calm as a deep pool.
Only those familiar with him could discern the emotions hidden beneath that calmness.
Garou raised an eyebrow and deliberately said in a frivolous tone, "Tch, troublesome old man. What? Bringing helpers to clean up the house?"
Bang ignored his disciple's provocation.
He simply slowly assumed the starting stance of Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist.
This simple action made Garou's eyes narrow... he was too familiar with this posture; it was a prelude to his master getting serious.
"Garou," Bang's voice suddenly became incredibly heavy, "Since you have already gone astray..."
Blue cyclones, visible to the naked eye, suddenly erupted around the old man, and the floor beneath his feet cracked into a spiderweb pattern with a "crunch."
"Then as your master, I can only knock some sense into you!"
"Come on! Old man, who's afraid of who!"
Garou and Bang's figures instantly vanished, leaving only two afterimages in the air.
However, just as their fists were about to meet.
A figure inserted himself between the two.
King spread his arms, his left hand precisely gripping Bang's fist, and his right hand steadily catching Garou's punch.
Two immense forces, capable of splitting mountains and shattering rocks, came to an abrupt halt in his palms, without even stirring a ripple of air.
"Stop messing around," King first turned his head to Garou, "The hotpot isn't boiling yet, and the ingredients are all ready. Are you trying to demolish the house here? Give me some face, settle down for a bit!"
Garou snorted coldly but didn't exert any more force.
King then looked at Bang, "Old man, I learned your fisticuffs, so I owe you. Leave the matter of teaching this brat a lesson to me."
Saying that, he gestured with his chin towards Saitama's house below, "Besides, this isn't the place for a fight. You can't possibly demolish Saitama's house, can you?"
Bang's gaze shifted between King and Garou.
The old man could sense it clearly—despite his former disciple's monstrous form, the stubborn glint in Garou's eyes hadn't changed at all.
What startled him even more was the realization that Kaito's mastery of Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist had reached an astonishing level. It wasn't merely polished—it faintly brushed a realm Bang himself had never stepped into.
"…Very well."
Bang slowly lowered his stance, white beard drifting though no breeze stirred. "But I have one condition."
"Name it," Kaito replied.
"Next time we spar, count me in." A sharp light flickered in Bang's eyes. "I want to see just how far you've taken Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist."
Kaito laughed warmly. "Anytime."
And just like that, a potential master–disciple clash dissolved before it began.
The three descended to the ground. Kaito turned, clapping his hands loudly so his voice carried across the courtyard.
"Everyone! Dinner is ready!"
Child Emperor sprang up at once. "I'll handle the setup!"
With a wave of his small hand, dozens of compact robots shot out, buzzing like a metallic swarm. They clattered, shifted, and combined. Within seconds, a five-meter-wide electromagnetic hotpot materialized in the courtyard, complete with an automatic rotating ingredient conveyor belt circling the edge.
"Not big enough."
Kaito pointed at Pig God. "At least three times this size."
"Understood!" Child Emperor answered with spirited determination.
More robots spilled out of the Emperor Maru suit, merging with frantic metallic clanks. Soon, a colossal hotpot—over twenty meters in diameter, robust enough to dunk the entire Monster King Orochi for a quick blanch—rose from the ground like a shimmering steel monument.
Forty minutes later, a rich and intoxicating aroma swept through the street.
Kaito lifted Orochi's severed head and gave Atomic Samurai a nod. With one draw of his blade, countless overlapping slashes carved the monster meat into paper-thin sheets. The translucent slices shimmered like cicada wings, refracting rainbow hues under the lights.
"This is…" Zombieman narrowed his eyes.
"The meat of the Dragon-class Monster King Orochi," Kaito explained, placing the colorful slices into the bubbling broth. A fragrant steam burst upward instantly.
"Completely safe after my treatment. And as for the taste…" Kaito grinned, clicking his tongue. "You'll want to savor this."