At the very top of the Hero Association headquarters in City A, a man in a sleek black-and-white combat suit stood facing the skyline.
Blast.
Behind him, several Association staff members waited quietly, careful not to disturb him.
Then, without warning, he turned his head slightly.
Something had entered his awareness.
A figure cut through the sky at impossible speed, crossing half the city in the blink of an eye before coming to a stop in front of him.
Blast raised an eyebrow, studying the newcomer.
"You're Noah Vale, right? I've heard you've been looking for me."
Noah gave a small nod, skipping any pleasantries. "Yeah. About nine days from now, I'll need you to use your teleportation ability."
Blast's eyes flickered briefly.
Teleportation.
He rarely used it in front of others.
How does he know?
"What exactly do you need?" Blast asked.
"Simple," Noah said. "Send me and Saitama into space. As far from Earth as you can manage. Then bring us back afterward."
Blast blinked. "Why?"
"We're going to spar," Noah replied calmly. "If we go all out here, the planet won't last more than a second."
Blast didn't react outwardly.
But internally?
He didn't buy it.
Saitama was an unknown variable, sure. But Noah?
From what he could tell, the guy was strong—but not that strong. Destroy-the-planet-in-a-second strong? Not even close.
At best, maybe he could level a city or two if he really pushed himself.
Still, Blast smiled faintly, humoring him. "Alright. If that's what you want, I'll handle it."
Even if Noah was exaggerating, moving the fight off-world wasn't a bad idea. Two S-Class fighters clashing at full force could still cause serious collateral damage.
Noah frowned slightly at the expression but didn't bother arguing.
"Just don't be late," he said. "I won't be around much longer."
Blast paused.
Won't be around much longer?
Was that a time limit… or something else?
Before he could ask, Noah had already vanished.
A few minutes later—
"Guess you're Blast, huh? S-Class Rank 1. Took long enough to finally meet you."
Blast turned.
A man stood nearby, toothpick in his mouth, one hand resting on the hilt of a katana.
Atomic Samurai.
Blast nodded. "Just got pulled in to set up a battlefield for Noah Vale and Saitama. They want to fight off-world."
Atomic Samurai's eyes widened slightly.
"In space?" he repeated, then sighed in disappointment. "That's a shame. A match like that… I wanted to see it for myself."
Blast considered for a moment.
Then smiled.
"Not a problem. I can take you with me."
Atomic Samurai blinked. "Wait, seriously? That's outer space. I might not know physics, but I know that's not exactly survivable."
"Relax," Blast said confidently. "You'll be fine."
To him, this was just a sparring match. Spectating wouldn't be dangerous.
Atomic Samurai scratched his head, then grinned. "In that case… mind if I bring a few others?"
Blast waved it off. "Sure. Bring whoever you want."
Elsewhere—
After leaving headquarters, Noah went back to his usual routine.
He moved from city to city, responding to monster sightings before anyone else could even get close.
For him, it was efficient.
Each kill meant rewards.
Each mission was progress.
Over the past two months, his involvement had completely reshaped the landscape.
According to the Association's data:
Over half of all incidents had been resolved by Noah alone.
More than ninety percent of Demon-level threats had been eliminated by him personally.
The Deep Sea King.
The meteor that threatened an entire city.
The mysterious Vaccine Man.
The House of Evolution.
Every major crisis had either been destroyed outright or neutralized under his watch.
Monsters barely had time to emerge before Noah tracked them down and erased them.
For other heroes, it was… frustrating.
The total reward pool for missions had increased dramatically—but because Noah cleared so many threats alone, the rest barely got a share.
More work existed on paper.
Less opportunity existed in reality.
Complaints started piling up.
Eventually, word got back to Noah.
"…Huh," he muttered, realizing the issue. "Guess I've been overdoing it."
Online, the narrative had already shifted.
Some people claimed the Hero Association only needed one hero now—Noah Vale.
Everyone else was just dead weight.
That annoyed him.
He wasn't doing this for anyone else.
He wasn't some public servant working for applause.
After thinking it over, Noah adjusted his approach.
From that point on, he deliberately ignored anything below Demon-level, leaving weaker threats to the other heroes.
It helped balance things out—at least a little.
Meanwhile, another rumor spread like wildfire.
In nine days, Noah Vale and Saitama would fight.
Not just a spar.
A battle to determine who was truly the strongest.
And the battlefield?
Outer space.
The idea alone was enough to send shockwaves through the hero world.
Martial artists, heroes, and thrill-seekers alike were desperate to witness it.
By the time the day approached—
Blast stood on a street so packed it looked like a festival crowd.
He stared at the sea of people, then slowly turned to Atomic Samurai.
"…You said a few people."
Atomic Samurai coughed awkwardly.
"Yeah. I might've… underestimated interest."
...
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