"Long time no see, Garou."
Saitama waved, cheerful as ever. Garou, less so—the memory of almost getting pulped by this bald demon still lived in his bones; the fear showed on his face.
"Saitama? So you're the one Gyoro Gyoro kept hinting at—the terrifying S-Class hero?"
Bug God eyed him, curiosity sharpening into fighting spirit.
"S-Class, rank two, right? Sounds plenty strong. Bug God, leave his head to me," Royal Ripper said, licking his lips. Battle-lust burned in his eyes—slaying Saitama would prove his supremacy.
"Tch."
Fubuki snorted. They'd practically ignored her, but whatever—she'd only come to eat with Saitama.
"You coming to hunt me too? Good. I'll never surrender to your filthy Hero Association!"
Garou snapped around, gaze feral despite the bandaged wounds striping his body.
"You're hurt. Leave this to me," Saitama said. "And you two ugly monsters—scaring the customers is rude. On the bright side, I might get a free meal out of this."
"You… what?" Garou blinked. "I'm on the Association's most-wanted list."
"Mm." Saitama nodded.
"Then why aren't you arresting me?"
"You don't look like a bad guy. Why would I?"
The words hit Garou like a lightning bolt.
All his life, everyone—including himself—called him "bad." He hated hypocrite "pro heroes" who wore halos and did dirty things in the dark. Why must monsters always lose? Why must they always be evil? He swore to become the strongest "monster" and prove the world wrong.
He had ambushed many heroes to make that point. Yet for the first time, someone—this very rival he'd most wanted to defeat—told him he didn't seem like a villain.
"Hell Blizzard?"
Garou's eyes tightened. Fubuki's telekinesis had recently climbed to near-Tatsumaki levels—S-2 in the rumor mill. He expected her to move against him, but she only folded her arms and watched, cool and disinterested.
"Don't look at me like that. If you'd killed that kid, I would've killed you first," Fubuki said flatly.
"Then I'll take her," Royal Ripper grinned, flashing dagger-white teeth.
"Fine by me, but I'm more interested in Chrome Dome," Bug God said. "He's ranked higher. I won't stay Demon forever."
Among monsters, disaster rating meant everything. Higher rating, higher status. Breaking things earned promotions, and these two were hungry.
"You should come together," Saitama said, stepping forward, dead-fish eyes serious. "I'm in a hurry."
"Together?"
Bug God and Royal Ripper laughed.
"You think S-Class means invincible? You're underestimating us."
"You'll be begging for your life. I'll mince your meat into ribbons," Royal Ripper hissed.
They split, flanking Saitama. Blades and barbed lances stabbed for skull and spine—
"Dead."
Both had the same thought as steel flashed. They could already see brains and gore—
Clang.
A tooth-aching ring. Royal Ripper stared, numb. His blade struck Saitama's skull and… nothing. No split bone. No blood. No dent. Instead, his "alloy-hard" edge spider-webbed and bounced off.
What joke was this? He was Demon-class!
Bug God's spear-limb hammered Saitama's back—snapped clean on impact. Pain screeched up his arm as the broken segment rattled away.
"Our attacks… didn't work?"
Bug God gaped. Besides Orochi, no one tanked them like that.
Could this bald man's defense outclass even Orochi's?
"That's all?" Saitama mused. "Didn't really feel it."
He caught Royal Ripper's blade between his fingers. A light squeeze; cracks raced the length of it.
"My… blades?" Royal Ripper croaked. Grown from monster cells—harder than most modern alloys, able to cut steel like tofu—and they were breaking?
Krak—
His forearm-swords shattered. Saitama rolled a shoulder and casually twisted, dislocating Royal Ripper's joint with a pop.
Royal Ripper: "…"
"Impossible! Even S-Class can't be this strong! I can't be… unable to break his defense!"
On the side, Garou's eyes went round. He'd fought Saitama—but back then, he'd told himself the gap was "just a bit." This? This was monstrous. Demon-class couldn't even scratch him?
"You got anything else to say?" Saitama asked, sleeves already tugged up. "If not, I'm gonna start hitting."
He was in a simple long-sleeve today—no hero suit.
"Looking down on us? Die!"
Royal Ripper roared. New blades sprouted from the stumps; spikes erupted across his body until he looked like a walking shredder.
Bug God dropped low. Segment after segment unfolded, his bulk doubling with chitinous crackles.
Their auras swelled, fiercer than before.
"See, Garou? This is a monster's power! Feel it! Drown in it!"
Royal Ripper laughed, drunk on his own escalation. The two Demon-class blazed forward—faster, heavier, meaner than before—
Saitama lifted one hand, palm open, as if catching raindrops.
(End of Chapter)
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