"Hmph! A bald nobody dares to run his mouth!"
Tornado laughed in anger. Scarface, at least, was called The Strongest Man on Earth and had a list of god-like feats—
what do you have? A shiny head that doubles as a mirror? And you think you can lecture me?!
She raised her hand; countless chunks of earth hovering nearby became high-velocity cannonballs under her psychic power and shot straight at Saitama.
Saitama's eyes narrowed; he flicked out a casual punch. The savage wind and space-warping force behind it pulverized every last chunk in front of him.
Tornado frowned—this bald guy's strength was no joke; even the wind from his punch packed serious power.
So what!
She twisted her wrist; the shattered soil turned into a sky full of glittering grains, glowed pale green, and attacked Saitama again in smaller, far greater numbers.
At the same time, Tornado poured over fifty percent of her psychic power onto Saitama to keep him from escaping.
Seeing the faint green glow on his body, Saitama felt like he'd turned into some radioactive cartoon character.
He casually swung his arm, shattering the psychic power wrapped around him.
Gritting her teeth, Tornado tried to pin him down, yet she couldn't control Saitama's movements at all.
"Whoa, that's a lot of dirt flying around!"
Saitama gazed in mild surprise at the airborne soil, then took a deep breath.
A violent suction pulled a vacuum dozens of meters wide.
With a flex of his abs, he opened his mouth and unleashed a solidified blast of air.
"Hah!"
A tornado-like gust swept everything away; every last grain, psychic power-boosted or not, vanished in an instant.
Tornado was stunned speechless—besides Scarface, no one had ever moved freely under her psychic power.
"Nice, the view's a lot clearer now."
A path had been swept clean; Saitama smiled, then lowered his stance.
His leg muscles detonated with monstrous force, the ground collapsing under the recoil as he shot off like a fully compressed spring.
Tornado's vision blurred; the gleaming bald head was already in front of her, a red-gloved fist casually rocketing forward.
Thanks to long combat experience, she instantly read his intent and sneered.
Obviously a brute-force melee type… think you can beat me up close? Ridiculous!
Vast psychic power erupted, forming an immensely thick barrier around her.
With her monstrous mental strength, even hundreds of missiles detonating on that barrier couldn't scratch her.
But the next instant, that seemingly slow red fist met the barrier like Tyson punching glass.
With a crisp crack, the barrier exploded into pale-green shards before her widening eyes.
"Oops, broke it."
Saitama chuckled, grabbed the back of her collar, and lifted her like a spitting kitten.
Tornado's eye twitched; the absurdity of it hit her.
I'm being dangled one-handed? By a rookie S-Class ranked way below me? A stinking boiled egg?
She realized she couldn't rely on raw psychic power to suppress this muscle monster—she had to turn it into pure offense.
With a thought, her oceanic psychic power compressed into countless tiny needles of mental force, each packed with destructive power.
"Go!"
The needles were silent and air-cutting, virtually undodgeable.
Each carried enough mental energy to shatter a target's mind and turn them into a vegetable—for an S-Class hero, the effect would last only two or three days.
She intended to let this bald jerk stay a drooling idiot for a couple of weeks.
What happened next shattered her worldview.
Saitama didn't even bother to defend—or notice; the dozens of mind-shattering needles struck him head-on.
Yet no mental backlash came; the needles dissolved like mud in the sea.
Impossible! No one can shrug that off! Are you kidding me?!
For the first time, she was truly shaken—even Scarface had to dodge that move.
And this bald guy just ate it?!
Saitama raised an eyebrow; something in his brain seemed to twitch.
"Ow… guess I'd better stop pulling all-nighters reading manga; feeling kinda dizzy."
He yawned, looked at Tornado in his grip, remembered the insults about his smooth head, and scowled.
He poked her cheek with a finger and growled,
"Hey, brat, figured out your mistake yet? Don't mock people's sore points."
"Let go, you stinking boiled egg! Water-boiled egg! Trash! Garbage!"
"What the—still cursing? Now I'm really mad!"
Saitama had been ready to let it go—why bicker with a kid?—
but his kindness only brought more insults.
Even easy-going Saitama was starting to lose his temper.
Tornado stared at him in silence, eyes flickering.
Just when Saitama thought she might apologize,
she opened her mouth and bit down hard on his outstretched finger…
...
(End of Chapter)
[Throw some stones]