In the narrow alley, Bruce Wayne watched the man in front of him with a faint frown.
He'd seen this type before.
He'd see them again.
People who stumbled into power or wealth and mistook momentum for destiny rarely listened to advice.
"You can do whatever you want," Bruce said at last, voice calm but firm. "Just don't cross the line."
That was all.
He turned and disappeared into the shadows, ending the conversation before it could spiral into something pointless.
Left alone, Bloom Gavin clicked his tongue in annoyance.
"Fine," he muttered. "I don't need you."
He looked down the empty alley, jaw set.
"I'll prove it myself."
A few days later—
Morning light spilled across Noah Vale's bedroom as he stretched and rolled out of bed, moving through his routine with practiced ease.
Coffee. Shower. News.
The world had been busy.
Security levels across multiple cities had risen sharply. Where a single top-tier hero used to be enough to stabilize a region, now there were more heavy hitters spread across the map.
Thanks to the influx of reincarnators, cities had backup.
Of course—
That came with a cost.
The opposing side had ramped things up just as aggressively.
Monster attacks were more frequent.
More destructive.
Less predictable.
It was an arms race.
And it had already begun.
"Hey—Noah! Long time no see!"
The voice carried energy like it was fueled by pure optimism.
Noah didn't even need to turn around.
He already knew who it was.
When he did glance back, there stood Saitama—now officially B-Class Rank 3—walking toward him with that same relaxed, offbeat stride.
Progress.
Fast progress.
Now that his strength had been partially exposed, fewer people dared to claim credit for his victories.
At this rate, S-Class was only a matter of time.
"What are you doing here?" Noah asked, scanning the area. "This isn't your usual patrol zone."
"No monsters nearby," Saitama said. "I came to find you."
That got Noah's attention.
"Oh?"
Saitama stopped in front of him, expression shifting.
More serious than usual.
"Let's fight."
Noah blinked.
"…You're kidding."
"No," Saitama said, clenching his fist slightly. "I mean it."
Noah stared at him.
Then sighed.
"Be honest. If you wanted me dead, you could just say that."
"I'm serious," Saitama insisted. "You're different from everyone else."
He paused, searching for the right words.
"These past few days… I can feel it. You've gotten stronger. Not a lot—but enough that it stands out."
Then, blunt as ever—
"You're still nowhere near my level. But it's not zero anymore."
Noah closed his eyes briefly.
"…You really don't have to say the second part."
He looked out over the street, watching the flow of people.
"Let me ask you something," he said. "Why are you so obsessed with finding someone on your level?"
Saitama didn't hesitate.
"Because otherwise, it's boring."
Simple.
Direct.
No embellishment.
Noah frowned slightly.
"You weren't like this before you got strong," he said. "You didn't even fight back when people pushed you around. And now you've got everything, and somehow that's the problem?"
He shook his head.
"I don't get it."
Saitama smiled faintly.
"It's not about having everything," he said. "It's about feeling something when you fight."
A pause.
"So… let's go."
Noah looked at him for a long moment.
Then shook his head.
"Hard pass."
"…What?"
"Fighting you sounds like a terrible idea," Noah said flatly. "I'd come out of it dumber just for participating."
Saitama stared.
"…That's kind of rude."
"And accurate."
Noah turned to leave.
Saitama moved instantly, stepping in front of him and bowing—deep, formal, unwavering.
"Please," he said. "I'm serious. Just one fight."
Noah rubbed his temples.
This guy is persistent.
"Fine," he said at last. "I'll consider it."
Saitama straightened immediately.
"But," Noah added, raising a finger, "you have to bring me a beautiful woman first."
Saitama blinked.
"…What?"
"You heard me."
"That's illegal," Saitama said flatly. "You can't just… bring people like that."
"That's your problem, not mine," Noah replied with a smile.
Then he walked off.
Leaving Saitama standing there.
Thinking.
Deeply.
…Genos?
A shadow cut across the sky.
Fast.
Precise.
Closing in on Noah's position.
Moments later—
A figure landed directly in front of him.
Tall. Muscular. Wearing a black-and-white prison uniform.
Eyes locked on Noah like he'd just found something sacred.
"I can't hold it back anymore," the man said, voice trembling with intensity. "Please—accept my love."
Noah froze.
"…No."
"I'm S-Class hero, Puri-Puri Prisoner!" the man continued passionately. "I saw you on TV. Your strength, your presence—I had to meet you, even if it meant breaking out!"
He stepped closer.
"If you accept me, I swear I'll dedicate myself completely—"
Noah flicked a finger.
That was it.
A small motion.
Barely visible.
The result—
Catastrophic.
A compressed burst of force tore forward, swallowing Puri-Puri Prisoner whole.
The street behind him disintegrated.
Walls shattered.
Air itself seemed to scream as the shockwave carved a path for nearly a kilometer.
When it faded—
There was nothing left.
Just ruin.
Noah lowered his hand, expression unchanged.
"…Seriously?"
He brushed invisible dust from his sleeve.
"Don't ruin my appetite."
Around him, people screamed.
Phones dropped.
Chaos rippled outward.
Noah ignored it all and kept walking.
One minute later—
Hero Association Headquarters received the report.
Silence fell over the room.
"…An S-Class hero is dead?"
The question didn't sound real.
"It was Nemesis," the staff member said carefully. "Public location. Multiple witnesses."
That made it worse.
Much worse.
The executive in charge closed his eyes briefly.
This wasn't something they could ignore.
Not anymore.
"…Deploy Silver Fang," he said at last. "Immediately."
A pause.
"And keep it contained. No leaks."
They couldn't afford panic.
And they couldn't afford to lose Noah either.
"Understood."
At the same time—
Across the network—
Something changed.
Noah's name quietly disappeared from the official hero registry.
No announcement.
No explanation.
Just… gone.
But people noticed.
Especially the reincarnators.
Phones lit up.
Calls flooded in.
"What happened to Nemesis?"
"He's off the list."
"Explain."
The pressure mounted quickly.
The Association had no choice but to respond.
"He violated protocol," the executive said over the line. "He killed an S-Class hero. That cannot be ignored."
There was a pause.
Then—
"…So he's a target now?"
The tone had changed.
Sharpened.
Interested.
"…Not officially," the executive said carefully. "This is still an internal matter."
Another pause.
Then—
"If someone like him were classified as a threat… what level would he be?"
The question hung in the air.
The executive hesitated.
"…At least Dragon-level."
That was enough.
"Then leave him to us," came the reply. "We'll handle it."
The line went dead.
On the other end—
Ivanov lowered the phone, a smile creeping onto his face.
"Perfect."
Resources were limited.
High-value targets even more so.
If Noah could be turned into one—
Why not claim the reward?
"Let's go," he said.
Around him, others grinned.
Meanwhile—
Z-City.
A small noodle shop.
Noah sat alone, calmly finishing his meal as whispers spread around him.
People knew.
Or at least—
They'd heard enough.
An S-Class hero dead.
Killed in broad daylight.
And the man responsible?
Sitting right there, eating like nothing had happened.
Some fled.
Others stayed.
Curiosity beating out fear.
The curtain at the entrance shifted.
A man stepped inside.
Old.
Calm.
Unassuming.
But the moment he entered—
The room changed.
He scanned the space once.
Then walked over and sat beside Noah.
Neither spoke.
Three minutes passed.
Noah finished his food.
Set the bowl down.
Stood.
And walked out.
The old man followed.
They stopped in the street.
A crowd gathered almost instantly, drawn by instinct more than understanding.
Two figures.
Facing each other.
Noah turned, a faint smile forming.
"I was hoping it'd be you," he said.
Silver Fang—Bang—stood opposite him, posture relaxed but eyes sharp.
"You crossed a line," Bang said quietly. "Killing another hero isn't something that can be ignored."
Noah shrugged.
"That situation doesn't interest me."
His gaze sharpened.
"So—are you here to fight?"
Bang didn't hesitate.
His stance shifted.
Hands aligned.
Body lowered.
A flowing, controlled posture that carried both softness and lethal intent.
In that instant—
Something changed.
The air itself seemed to follow his movement.
Noah's eyes lit up.
So that's it.
He watched closely.
Every angle.
Every shift in weight.
Every subtle transfer of force.
Breaking it down.
Rebuilding it in his mind.
Piece by piece.
Got it.
A grin spread across his face.
"Yeah," he murmured. "That's definitely useful."
...
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