The ground undulated like ocean swells, throwing up waves of earth and debris. The surviving heroes scrambled, crawled, and sprinted for their lives—dignity be damned.
A-Class Hero Strong Sound, having just clawed his way out of a rubble pile, felt the terrifying pressure building behind him.
Strong Sound: "..."
—If only he'd known, he would've stayed in bed.
A flash of profound regret. Then he was airborne.
Tons of earth, stone, and building wreckage came crashing down, mercilessly reburying the unlucky hero.
[Killed Dragon-level Monster Wild Boar. Origin Points +85,920!]
Tatsumaki: "..."
She watched with her own eyes as that familiar-yet-unfamiliar figure casually obliterated a Dragon-level monster with a single punch.
Her fish-like eyes went wide. Her iconic green curls whipped backward in the violent shockwave—each strand standing on end like electrified seaweed. Her swimsuit skirt flapped furiously in the gale, threatening to tear away entirely.
"HOW! IS! IT! YOU! A-GAIN?!"
The fierce winds subsided. Dust settled like falling snow.
Jack hovered above the freshly carved crater, the lightning, flames, and psychokinetic light around him fading into shimmering motes that dissipated into the air. He glanced down at the bottomless, charred pit below, then at the system notification.
Less than ninety thousand points?
For someone sitting on tens of millions, this was pocket change.
Still. A mosquito's leg is still meat. Grains of sand build pagodas.
Done. Clocking out.
He turned to leave—and a sharp, displeased voice cut through the air behind him.
"Hey. You. Stop."
Jack paused, turning.
Not far away, a petite figure in a cool black swimsuit hovered with her arms crossed over her small chest. Emerald eyes bored into him with a complex mixture of irritation and... something else.
Swimsuit Summer Limited Edition Tatsumaki.
Jack's eyes lit up.
This was a rare skin—the kind that in a gacha game would require collecting a hundred fragments or hitting hard pity. Seeing it in person? Exquisite. A collector's item.
Tatsumaki drifted closer, her eyes glowing faintly with psychic energy as she scrutinized him from head to toe. Her brow furrowed deeper with each passing second.
"You, you, you... you're that, that..."
Her memory faltered. Jack supplied, calmly: "Jack."
"Right! Jack! WHY IS IT YOU AGAIN?!"
The reminder only made her angrier. Her voice shot up eight octaves.
(ಠ ‸ ಠ)
She blurred forward, closing the distance in an instant. Her short, powerful-looking hands reached out and began poking—aggressively, repeatedly—at Jack's firm, resilient pectoral muscles.
"I say! What's your deal, you— Ugh?! "
*Pop. *
A strange counterforce traveled back up her finger. It tingled. Numbed. Like poking a wall wrapped in a psychokinetic barrier.
Tatsumaki: ???
Not only did he not surrender, but he dared to resist her with psychic powers?!
This was war.
ఠ ͟ ಠ
In the sky, Tatsumaki—fully transitioned into her rough-drawn, powerful art style—became a blur of motion, her short arms leaving afterimages as she continued her assault.
"TWICE! THIS IS THE SECOND TIME!"
"I finally take a vacation! I find a quiet spot! And then I get a call about a Dragon-level monster causing chaos!"
"And EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. it's you! Do you know how annoying it is to make a wasted trip— TWO wasted trips?!"
She zipped around him like an angry squirrel who'd lost her nut stash, chattering and scolding without pause.
"And you're CLEARLY a psychic with decent strength—like, at least a billion times stronger than that idiot Fubuki—so WHY don't you just join the Hero Association?!"
"If you joined, they'd give you a communicator!"
"Then they could actually warn me in advance, so I wouldn't keep RUNNING INTO YOU and ruining my precious vacation! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"
Jack said nothing.
He simply smiled, watching her buzz around him like an iridescent green hummingbird.
This was a privilege, he thought. A close-up view of Tatsumaki in a swimsuit—not everyone got this.
He let his gaze wander. Her chest was... well, it was small. But there was a certain charm to the youthful, compact frame. In the sunlight, her pale skin seemed almost luminous. A few damp strands of green curl clung to her delicate cheeks—a rare touch of innocent softness she didn't usually show.
The black two-piece swimsuit hugged her petite but well-proportioned figure perfectly. Fresh. Vibrant. Full of girlish charm.
Jack had stopped listening to her complaints entirely.
His attention was elsewhere.
Tatsumaki ranted for another ten seconds before she noticed.
He wasn't responding.
He was staring.
She felt the weight of his gaze—clear, frank, and carrying just a hint of appreciation—and her anger flickered. Then it softened, just a fraction. Her cheeks flushed an involuntary pink.
"Hmph."
She planted her hands on her hips, trying to salvage her fierce expression. But the red creeping up her neck betrayed her.
"Hey! Are you even LISTENING to me?!"
Jack blinked, snapping back to reality with an expression of pure, practiced innocence.
With the most sincere tone imaginable, he delivered the most infuriating words:
"Although... I was here first this time."
Tatsumaki: "..."
Confucius said: Sincerity is the ultimate killer move.
And at this moment, Jack's sincerity had clearly achieved a critical hit.
A single sentence. One perfectly timed truth. And Tatsumaki was rendered utterly speechless.
Her expression froze.
Her emerald eyes slowly glazed over into lifeless fish-eyes.
Silence hung in the air for exactly one second.
Then—the rage surged. From the bottom of her heart, straight to the top of her head. Uncontrollable. Irrepressible. Atomic.
"AAAAHHHH— AHHHHH—!!!"