The conference room held its breath.
Child Emperor's concern wasn't unreasonable. Charging into an unknown enemy stronghold with minimal preparation sounded like a gamble at best.
The executive, however, didn't waver.
"That's exactly why we move now," he said. "If even we weren't aware of them until this point, they won't expect us to act so quickly either. If they scatter, we lose the chance to eliminate them in one strike."
He let that settle before adding—
"As for leadership… this operation will be commanded by our newly promoted S-Class hero—Saitama."
A pause.
Saitama blinked.
"…me?"
He looked genuinely surprised, like someone had just handed him the wrong order at a restaurant.
Across the room, Genos didn't react at all. In his mind, it made perfect sense.
His teacher being placed in charge? Only natural.
Others weren't as convinced.
"Why him?" Atomic Samurai asked, arms crossed. "He just got promoted. What's he done to justify leading us?"
Murmurs followed.
The executive cleared his throat.
"This decision was recommended by Noah Vale. Additionally, the group of infiltrators we identified within the Association—the ones eliminated yesterday—were all taken down by Saitama alone."
That earned a few looks.
But not belief.
Not yet.
Experience mattered here. Reputation mattered.
And Saitama had neither.
Several heroes instinctively glanced toward Tatsumaki, expecting her to object.
She didn't.
She simply leaned against the table, eyes half-lidded, uninterested.
No objection.
No support.
Just silence.
That alone was strange.
Then Noah spoke.
"If anyone has a problem with it," he said casually, "step up and fight him."
The room shifted.
"If you get hurt, that's on you," he added. "Honestly, for this operation… he's enough by himself."
That did it.
The mood flipped.
These weren't ordinary fighters—they were the strongest heroes alive. Pride wasn't optional at this level. It came baked into the job description.
And now it had been challenged.
Eyes turned toward Saitama.
Saitama, for his part, looked tired.
"…hey," he muttered to Noah. "You're making this complicated."
Noah shrugged.
"Fastest way to settle it."
Saitama sighed.
Then scratched his head.
"…fine."
He stepped forward.
"Alright," he said, looking around the room. "Who's first?"
A blur moved.
Atomic Samurai appeared behind him, hand already on the hilt of his blade.
"Watch closely," he said.
The sword moved.
Or rather—
It almost did.
Before the blade could fully clear its sheath, Saitama's hand casually pressed it back down.
Clink.
Silence.
Atomic Samurai froze.
He stared at the hand resting on his sword… then at Saitama.
"…that's not possible."
Saitama let go.
"Done?"
Atomic Samurai exhaled slowly.
"…I concede."
A lifetime of training.
Stopped by a single, effortless motion.
Across the room, Noah leaned forward slightly, eyes focused.
Interesting…
He'd barely caught the exchange.
Too fast.
Too clean.
Not enough to fully break down.
Next time, he thought.
Around them, the other heroes were still processing what they'd just seen.
Some hadn't even registered the draw.
Just the result.
Then—
"I'm next!"
Superalloy Darkshine stepped forward, muscles gleaming.
"Let me try," Child Emperor added, raising his hand with surprising enthusiasm.
"And me," said Flashy Flash, a faint smile on his lips.
Saitama nodded.
"Okay."
Three movements.
Three dull impacts.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Moments later—
Three S-Class heroes sat on the floor, clutching their heads, completely silent.
Saitama lowered his fist.
"…anyone else?"
No one moved.
The room, once filled with tension and skepticism, had gone completely still.
The answer was clear.
No debate needed.
The executive cleared his throat.
"Then it's settled. We move immediately."
No objections this time.
Only quiet acceptance.
Minutes later, aircraft roared into the sky.
The entire S-Class force mobilized toward Z-City.
Below them—
The barren district stretched out, silent and empty.
Saitama stood at the center.
He looked down at the ground.
Then—
Raised his fist.
"One punch should do it…"
He brought it down.
The earth didn't crack.
It vanished.
A massive hole tore open, plunging straight into the depths below, exposing the underground structure hidden beneath the city.
On the aircraft above, every hero leaned forward.
Staring.
No one spoke.
Because there wasn't anything to say.
That wasn't strength.
That was something else entirely.
Nearby, Tatsumaki hovered slightly, her green hair shifting in the wind. Thanks to Noah's earlier warning, she had already relocated Saitama's house before the strike.
Even so—
"…ridiculous," she muttered.
Below, Saitama stepped back from the edge.
"…that should work."
Deep underground, inside the Monster Association's base—
A grotesque figure lounged lazily in a reinforced chamber.
Gyoro Gyoro.
Reports had been coming in nonstop, each more confusing than the last.
"Our cover's blown?"
"King fought us and got injured? When did that happen?"
"We had infiltrators inside the Hero Association? Since when?"
The more he heard, the less sense it made.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Then—
The ground shook.
Violently.
Gyoro Gyoro stiffened.
"…what now?"
Above him—
The ceiling split.
Light poured in.
And the invasion began.
...
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