Morning crept over the abandoned district of Z-City like nothing unusual had happened.
Inside a crumbling apartment, Saitama rolled off his futon, yawned, and shuffled toward the TV. He flicked it on with half-lidded eyes—
—and froze.
Noah Vale was on every channel.
"…wait, what?" Saitama scratched his bald head, squinting at the screen like it might explain itself if he stared hard enough.
A reporter leaned forward, microphone raised. "So what you're saying is… the Association is increasing hero compensation?"
Noah sat comfortably, legs crossed, answering as if this were just another Tuesday.
"That's right. We're rolling out a full structural reform. First step—every registered hero's monthly pay increases tenfold."
Saitama's eyes widened.
The rest of the interview blurred into background noise.
He grabbed the sides of the TV and leaned in so close his nose nearly touched the screen.
Ten times…
His brain, usually content to idle, suddenly kicked into high gear.
That's… at least 500,000 yen next month.
He blinked.
Then blinked again.
I could actually afford groceries without checking prices…
A pause.
I could waste food.
The thought hit him like a revelation.
I could eat a full bowl… and throw the rest away.
His hands trembled slightly.
This was it.
This was what winning felt like.
A phone rang nearby.
Saitama snapped out of his trance and picked it up instantly.
"Yeah, this is Saitama—what? It's about money?"
His posture straightened.
"Got it. I'm on my way."
Deep inside the Hero Association headquarters, in a massive underground training facility, two figures faced each other.
The room was cavernous, built to contain the kind of destruction most places couldn't survive.
Floating a few inches above the ground, arms crossed, was Tatsumaki.
Her expression was flat. Unimpressed.
"So you're the one who killed that prisoner hero," she said. "Honestly, I think you belong behind bars more than he ever did."
Across from her, Noah sat lazily in a chair, one leg draped over the other.
"Tatsumaki," he said casually, like they were discussing the weather. "You've got a problem with me?"
His tone didn't match the situation at all.
"If the Association signed off on it, then what's the issue?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"I don't care what they signed off on," she shot back. "You killed another hero for no reason. And the way you're looking at me right now? Yeah. I don't like it."
Invisible pressure filled the room.
The air tightened.
Her psychic force wrapped around Noah, lifting him clean out of his chair. The concrete beneath his feet cracked under the strain.
"Start talking," she said coldly. "Or I'll decide for you."
Noah didn't resist.
If anything, he looked… amused.
"A reason?" he said. "Sure. I've got one."
He raised a finger, brushing it lightly across his lips as he studied her.
"Your sister."
Tatsumaki's expression didn't change—but the pressure spiked.
"…what about her?"
"Fubuki," Noah said, almost thoughtfully. "She's trying pretty hard to keep up with you, isn't she?"
The psychic grip tightened.
"Get to the point."
Noah smiled.
"You wouldn't want her to lose everything, right?"
A flicker.
Small. Brief. But real.
"If she found out her sister got stripped of her hero status because she attacked Association leadership…" he continued, voice calm, almost conversational, "that might hit her pretty hard."
Tatsumaki didn't respond immediately.
The pressure wavered.
Just slightly.
Noah tilted his head.
"She's been chasing your shadow this whole time. Pushing herself, trying to close the gap." He paused. "If all of that suddenly collapsed… and she realized it was because of you…"
Silence.
The invisible force around him loosened.
Not gone.
But no longer crushing.
Noah blinked once, mildly surprised.
That actually worked?
Interesting.
Even someone like her still had limits.
Tatsumaki exhaled sharply and released him completely.
"Whatever," she muttered. "Just don't let me catch you doing something like that again."
She turned, ready to leave.
Noah watched her go.
Then, because he could—
"Hey," he called out.
She stopped, glancing back with clear irritation.
"What."
Noah leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand.
"I've been wondering something."
A pause.
"…make it quick."
He smiled.
"Under that split skirt of yours—what are you wearing?"
Tatsumaki blinked.
Once.
For a rare moment, she didn't react immediately.
"…what?"
Noah gestured vaguely. "You know. Nothing? Stripes? Something else?"
He sounded genuinely curious.
Like he was asking about the weather again.
The room went very, very still.
Then—
"Are you serious right now?"
Her face darkened.
"I'm going to kill you."
The psychic pressure exploded.
This time, there was no restraint.
The entire training facility groaned as invisible force surged toward Noah, ready to crush him into nothing.
But Noah had already moved.
A small vial appeared in his hand—filled with a deep, crimson liquid. He stepped back, slipping partially out of phase with reality for a split second—
—and activated it.
Energy rippled through him.
His body began to grow.
Rapidly.
His height surged past normal limits, his frame expanding in perfect proportion. Muscles thickened, mass increasing at an absurd rate.
Ten times.
A hundred.
A thousand.
Within moments, he stood over a dozen meters tall, his presence filling the massive chamber with ease.
Strength followed size.
Exponentially.
Noah flexed his hand, watching the air distort around it.
"So this is what it feels like," he said, almost impressed. "I could get used to this."
He looked down at Tatsumaki, who hovered in place, eyes narrowed but focused.
"You're outmatched now," he added casually.
Then he reached for her.
Not with subtlety.
Not with restraint.
Two massive hands descended, aiming to grab her outright.
"And don't worry," Noah said with a grin. "If you won't answer, I'll just find out myself."