Children splashed and played in the shallow water, waves mixing with people's laughter. Saitama wore an extremely ordinary pair of blue swim trunks, his shiny bald head standing out under the sunlight. With a deadly serious expression, he was using a small plastic shovel to build a very abstract sandcastle. Compared to the lively atmosphere around him, he looked oddly out of place—like someone completing a "vacation mission" he absolutely had to finish.
But the peace didn't last.
Out on the distant horizon, several dull booms suddenly rumbled, followed by a screeching metal-grinding sound. At first, people thought it was thunder, or maybe a huge ship passing by, so no one really cared. But soon, a few sightseeing boats near the deep-water area lurched violently, and terrified screams rang out.
Several silver-gray dorsal fins sliced through the surface, racing toward the shoreline at an astonishing speed.
They weren't living creatures.
They were mechanical horrors crudely stitched together from rusted ship hull plates, twisted propellers, broken cannon barrels, and other unrecognizable scraps from discarded warships. Their shapes mimicked sharks—but scaled up several times over, bristling with the savage ugliness of an industrial wasteland.
"M-monster!" someone yelled first, and panic spread like a plague.
Tourists bolted out of the water onto the sand, shoving and screaming, some crying as the once-harmonious scene instantly collapsed into chaos.
Saitama had just finished the last tower of his sandcastle when the rushing crowd slammed into it and knocked one corner down. He frowned and lifted his head—just in time to see the largest mechanical shark leap out of the ocean.
Its alloy fangs glinted coldly in the sun. Its massive jaws opened wide. Inside wasn't flesh, but a complex mess of gears and hydraulic mechanisms. Even worse, a thick pipe-like muzzle on its head suddenly blasted out an incredibly condensed high-pressure water jet, launching like a spear toward a speedboat trying to flee.
Thump!
With a muffled impact, the aluminum hull was pierced as easily as paper. Seawater rushed in, and the boat immediately began to tilt.
The other mechanical sharks followed suit—some firing high-pressure water streams to attack from afar, others using terrifying alloy teeth to bite apart nearby wreckage. One even clamped down on a small submarine's observation window and crushed it until it burst, proving they could attack underwater targets too.
Lifeguards blew their whistles frantically, trying to keep order, but against a threat beyond common sense, every effort was pointless.
Saitama stood amid the chaos, looking at the terrified faces around him, then at the mechanical sharks rampaging freely. He rubbed his smooth chin and muttered to himself:
"Man… my vacation, finally. These things look really hard… Are they gonna be expensive to fix?"
Just then, a smaller mechanical shark charged straight up onto the shallows. Its bulky metal body plowed a deep trench through the sand as it opened its huge jaws toward several tourists who were frozen in fear. A rancid gust hit their faces; they could even see the gears spinning and the hydraulic rods pumping inside.
Saitama moved.
His motion didn't look fast—if anything, it looked casual. He simply stepped forward, bent down, reached out, and precisely grabbed a rudder-like part at the end of the mechanical shark's tail.
He did it as easily as if he were picking up a rock from the ground.
(End of Chapter)
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