The afterglow of the setting sun dyed the sky a magnificent orange-red.
Saitama and Lin Mo walked side by side over the silent ruins, their footsteps crunching on the gravel with a "shasha" sound.
"Sigh..."
Saitama's hands were in his pockets, his back slightly hunched, and his conspicuous yellow battle suit was a bit dazzling in the sunset.
He kicked a small stone, watching it arc weakly through the air before finally dropping with a "pa" into a more distant pile of rubble.
"It was solved with one punch again."
He mumbled, his voice devoid of any joy of victory, but instead full of childish complaints.
"That guy named Bakuzan, he looked so big; I thought he'd let me stretch my muscles a bit."
Lin Mo walked beside him, his steps steady, his gaze calmly fixed ahead, seemingly long accustomed to Saitama's "humblebragging" type of distress.
He didn't immediately respond, just listened quietly.
"And that guy named Suiryu just now," Saitama continued to complain, his tone becoming increasingly listless.
"He asked me how to get stronger, and I told him the truth. What kind of expression was that? It was as if I'd lied to him."
"I even told him about going bald; how sincere is that?"
He stopped, turned to look at Lin Mo, and in his eyes, which usually seemed a bit dull, a hint of confusion now appeared.
"King, am I... too strong?"
If this question were spoken by anyone else, it would only sound arrogant, but coming from Saitama, it carried a heartbreaking sincerity.
"Combat has completely lost its fun. My heart hasn't accelerated with nervousness or excitement for a long time."
"No matter what kind of enemy, be it Dragon-level or the prophecy of a God-level disaster, for me, it's just a matter of throwing one punch. What's the point of that, you tell me?"
He took off his gloves, spread his palm, and looked at the simple lines on it, his eyes vacant.
"I became a hero because of interest."
"It was because when I was a child, I saw heroes on TV, and I thought the way they fought Monsters was cool. That feeling of giving their all, of barely surviving, made my blood boil."
"But now? I've become the kind of character I never wanted to be—the invincible character who makes a fight lose all suspense the moment he appears."
The sunlight of the setting sun stretched his solitary shadow, and the cape, representing absolute power, now hung limply behind him, looking somewhat desolate.
Lin Mo finally stopped. He turned around, facing Saitama.
He didn't simply agree with him using casual words as usual, but instead looked seriously into Saitama's eyes.
"Saitama," he began slowly, his voice as steady as ever, yet carrying a calming power.
"Do you still remember your original intention for becoming a hero?"
"Huh? Didn't I say it? Because of interest!" Saitama scratched his smooth bald head.
"Interest is just a starting point." Lin Mo shook his head.
"In other words, Saitama-kun, who do you think heroes exist for?"
"Hmm?"
Saitama was stunned for a moment, clearly not expecting him to ask such a philosophical question.
"For whom? For myself, right? Because of interest, because I thought it was cool, that's why I became a hero, isn't it?"
"That's just the starting point."
Lin Mo shook his head. He turned and stood shoulder to shoulder with Saitama, his gaze fixed on the distant urban area where lights stubbornly flickered at the edge of the ruins.
"Perhaps you've been looking in the wrong direction all along."
"Looking in the wrong direction?"
"Yes." Lin Mo's voice carried a peculiar guiding quality.
"You're always looking at your opponents, hoping they can be strong enough, that they can bring you a great challenge, that they can give you a satisfying fight."
Saitama didn't speak, but he knew King was right.
"But have you ever considered," Lin Mo continued, "that for a disaster, the true protagonists are never the heroes, nor are they the Monsters."
He stretched out a finger, pointing to the distant twinkling lights.
"It's them."
"Those employees working overtime in office buildings, those couples busy making a living in small restaurants, those children waiting for their parents to come home..."
"It's every ordinary person who longs to get through today and welcome tomorrow."
Lin Mo withdrew his finger and turned to look at Saitama, his eyes becoming more serious than ever.
"The meaning of a hero isn't to throw a punch for his own accelerated heartbeat, but to throw a punch so that thousands upon thousands of hearts can beat steadily."
"That is a hero, embodying the words 'guard' and 'protect'."
As his words fell, the world seemed to grow even quieter, with only the sound of the wind rustling by.
Saitama listened quietly, the confusion on his face gradually receding, replaced by deep contemplation.
After a long while, he slowly raised his head.
The last ray of the setting sun fell into his eyes, bringing him a realization.
He blinked, his usually vacant expression seeming to soften considerably, and then he nodded in agreement, saying, "You're right, King."
"So... my boredom from being too strong is actually a good thing?" he summarized.
"For those you save, it's a great thing." Lin Mo nodded affirmingly.
"Oh..."
Saitama nodded thoughtfully; although the emptiness in his heart didn't disappear, it was no longer as unbearable.
His furrowed brow also relaxed slightly.
"Thanks, King. Hearing you say that, I feel much better." He said sincerely, his tone much lighter.
"We are friends." Lin Mo responded calmly.
"But..." Saitama's tone shifted, and he sighed, his ingrained desire surfacing.
"I still want to have a satisfying fight. It's been so long since I felt that blood-boiling sensation."
Hearing this, Lin Mo showed a subtle smile on his face, and he calmly suggested:
"Then how about we go to my place and play video games?"
"No, no," Saitama immediately waved his hand, a look of disdain on his face.
"I always get utterly crushed by you every time; there's no fun in that either."
Lin Mo smiled faintly, a hint of cunning flashing in his eyes, and said:
"How about this, I'll go easy on you. Today, I'll only use two fingers to play against you. What do you say?"
"What?!"
Saitama suddenly turned around, as if injected with full energy, all his previous desolation and confusion swept away.
His eyes instantly lit up, shimmering with an unyielding spirit.
"You said it! No backing out! Watch me beat you this time!"
He was completely invigorated, his fighting spirit surging.