Seeing that every member of the so-called Paradise Group was bald, Saitama's brows knitted tight. A bad premonition surged in his gut.
He could already picture it—if this gang kept rampaging, one day he'd stroll down the street only to be mistaken for a Paradise Group thug.
Absolutely not.
Decision made, Saitama rocketed upright. In a blink, his pajamas vanished, replaced by his hero suit, the white cape fluttering as he spun. His simple, usually calm expression sharpened into a deadly seriousness.
"I'm heading out—to defend the dignity of the bald."
With the door shut behind him, King and Genos stared wide-eyed. Words failed them.
"Uh…" King began, unsure.
Genos, however, sat bolt upright, eyes shining. "KING-sensei, do you remember? After our spar today, you said you'd point out my flaws—please instruct me!"
Did I say that? King scratched his head. He had, more or less. Might as well toss out a few pointers.
He outlined his philosophy for upgrading the cyborg body:
Fit every joint with detachable modules—if an arm is hacked off, it can snap back mid-battle.
Add auxiliary cores—relying on a single main core isn't enough for maximum output.
Study close-quarters combat—don't rely purely on firepower. Be lethal when enemies close the gap.
These weren't beginner tips—they were late-game power-ups, delivered early.
Genos's eyes blazed with realization. "So that's how… upgrades can even go in this direction… Thank you, KING-sensei! I know how to grow stronger now—farewell!"
With a respectful bow, Genos vanished, racing toward the Doctor to implement King's blueprint and elevate his power to the next tier.
Left alone, King rolled over and resumed scrolling on his phone. The system hadn't issued any quests, the day felt calm, and after that battle, he deserved a break.
Compared with Saitama, who only threw punches, King's fight had been a mental marathon. Every blow had shattered bones and tendons—no one could endure that forever. Even with flesh that healed on demand, mental exhaustion was unavoidable.
Consider it a day off.
Meanwhile, far beneath Z-City, deep underground…
Where solid earth should have been, tunnels sprawled endlessly. These weren't crude burrows—they were precise corridors, lined with ceramic tiles, torches unlit every ten meters.
The chilling part: the monsters inside rivaled Tiger-class in strength. City-dwellers would never believe such a colossal nest existed beneath Z-City.
At the heart of the labyrinth yawned a vast cavern.
A creature straight from mythology loomed: dark-violet scales armored its body, whip-like dragon tails tipped with fangs lashed the air. Layer upon layer of gaping maws lined its shoulders, and its serpentine face towered a hundred meters high.
Monster King Orochi, the public leader of the Monster Association.
Orochi's blood-red eyes rolled toward a high ledge, voice echoing like thunder: "Those two powerhouses have finished their fight—shall we still proceed as planned?"
Even an Above-Dragon terror like Orochi sensed the magnitude of King and Saitama's clash. Apprehension tinged his rumbling tone.
From the shadows came a languid, bewitching drawl: "Keep hiding. Our hour hasn't come; the Association's forces haven't peaked, and an unknown variable has appeared."
The darkness parted, revealing a grotesque mountain of flesh. Pink skin piled over an enormous, obese frame. A single giant pupil dominated its face, and tiny sucker-lined tentacles sprouted across its body.
The Monster Association's strategist: Dragon-Level Monster Gyoro-Gyoro.
Gyoro-Gyoro's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the cavern. One combatant was the self-proclaimed Strongest Man on Earth: KING. No surprise there.
The other? A newly promoted S-Class Hero, a bald man whose power rivaled KING's.
Humans really do hide tigers and dragons. The time to reveal ourselves hasn't come—more patience is required.
Little did King know, his clash with the Bald Demon King had delayed the Monster Association's grand debut even further.
...
(End of Chapter)
[Throw some stones]