That's wrong, he thought. The restlessness in his chest still hadn't settled. Yesterday's mission at that ruin. Tatsumaki's crying had echoed directly in his head, and Fubuki's body heat had clung to his back. That strange feeling. Even he didn't understand it, and it had been nagging at him ever since he got home. In the end, even though it was Saturday night, Saitama had been lost in thought the whole time, washing a frying pan greasy with cheap pork scraps. (What *was* that?) Normally, he'd just brush it off with a "what a pain." But the moment he thought those two might get hurt, something deep in his chest had tightened. It was the first time he'd ever felt anything like it. *Bzzzt.* On the low table, his hero communicator vibrated. Again? Saitama wiped his soapy hands on a towel and picked up the device. *"Emergency deployment. Multiple Demon-level monsters have appeared simultaneously in the ruins of Z-City's old downtown. S-Class Rank 2: Tatsumaki, the Tornado of Terror; B-Class Rank 1: Fubuki, Hellish Blizzard; and B-Class: Saitama — the three of you are to proceed immediately to eliminate them."* "...Hah." He couldn't help but sigh. A call at this hour? And with those two again, no less. It's barely been a day since yesterday — what a colossal pain. But the word "EMERGENCY" was stamped across the orders in huge letters. No right of refusal. Saitama threw on his yellow jersey and stepped outside. In the sky above the ruins, an eerie full moon peeked through gaps in the heavy, overhanging clouds. A damp wind carried the smell of rusted iron and rotting wood. ◇ Z-City old downtown ruins. Collapsed buildings were illuminated by the moonlight, casting countless shadows. Beyond several mountains of rubble lay a vast, open lot. Two women had arrived first. One floated in the air, the other stood on the ground. "[angry]Why are *you* here again?!" The moment she spotted Saitama, Tatsumaki's golden eyes blazed with anger. Her emerald-green hair floated up gently in the wind, and sparks of irritated psychic power scattered from her entire body. But beneath that voice, Saitama could sense through her thought waves a faint trace of relief. *'Thank goodness... you came...'* Her inner voice was always honest. "[cold]It can't be helped. It's an Association order." Fubuki spoke in her usual cool tone. Clad in a black combat suit, her light-blue eyes glinted coldly in the moonlight. On her beautiful face was a calculating gaze, observing both Saitama and Tatsumaki. "[gentle]However, I will provide support this time. I still haven't thanked you properly for yesterday, Saitama-san." "[angry]That's over and done with! More importantly, let's just take care of these monsters already!" Tatsumaki shouted — and that's when it happened. With a tremor, several mountains of rubble were blown away. Three. No, four. Grotesque giants, three times the height of a person, slowly approached from all four directions. Their skin boiled red like lava, and countless tentacles writhed, rearing up like snake heads. All of them, Demon-level. "They're here." Saitama muttered in his usual listless voice and took a step forward. "[angry]You stay back! I'll blow them all away in one—" Tatsumaki thrust both hands forward. In that instant— A low, grating hum — *vrrrm* — resonated from beneath their feet. "...Huh?" Tatsumaki's movements stopped. The green light that had been gathering in her palms vanished, as if someone had blown out a candle. What the— Saitama frowned. Something was wrong. From all over the ruins came the *click-clack* of machinery activating. It was as if devices buried underground had all powered on at once. "[scared]Wh-what... is this...?" Tatsumaki's voice trembled. She tried to thrust her hands out again. But nothing happened. The power that should have been coursing through her body felt like it had been completely drained away. *(It's gone... my power...)* Scary. I'm scared. The thing she'd always relied on had suddenly vanished. Even just standing felt abruptly uncertain. This sensation, the first of its kind in her life, dyed Tatsumaki's heart with panic. *'...No... help me...'* Her thought waves flowed into Saitama's head like a scream. *Tch.* Saitama clicked his tongue. This was a trap. Someone had been aiming for this from the very beginning. "[angry]Sis, don't just stand there spacing out!" Fubuki's yell. Startled, Saitama looked. Tatsumaki stood frozen atop the rubble, trembling slightly. And heading straight for her, one of the Demon-level monsters raised a gigantic claw. Tatsumaki couldn't move. Even though she tried, her legs were paralyzed, her body refusing to listen. At that moment— "—!" A shadow leaped in. It was Fubuki. In an instant, she slid in front of Tatsumaki, spreading her arms wide, trying to deploy a psychic barrier. But perhaps due to the field's influence, the barrier didn't form its usual perfect shape. A thin, cracked-glass-like defensive wall flickered for just a moment. And then. *Shunk!* A dull sound of tearing flesh. Blood sprayed from Fubuki's left shoulder. The monster's massive claw had slashed diagonally across her slender body. From her left shoulder down to her right flank, her white coat rapidly dyed a deep crimson. The flesh beneath her black combat suit was gouged, a flash of white bone visible for an instant. "—Ah," Fubuki let out a short breath and dropped to her knees. Just before collapsing, her trembling hand grabbed her sister's wrist. Blood-soaked fingers drew red lines on Tatsumaki's pale skin. "[whispers]Sis... you have to... tell Saitama-san properly..." With just those words, the light faded from her light-blue eyes, and Fubuki slowly crumpled to the ground. Blood spread. Black and warm, across the concrete. "Ah... aah, AAAAHHHH!!" A wordless scream tore from Tatsumaki's mouth. A beast-like cry, a mix of despair and terror. In that instant, a torrent of inarticulate emotion slammed directly into Saitama's brain. *'No no no! Fubuki! Fubuki! I'm sorry I'm sorry! Someone! Someone help! You! You!!'* Saitama had already taken a step forward. There wasn't a trace of his usual apathy on his face. Deep in his chest, a burning heat. He couldn't save her with power. Even if he destroyed the monsters with his fists, what had already happened couldn't be undone. That fact, for the first time, carved an emotion called "rage" into his heart. "—Disappear." He said it short, just that. One step closed the distance, splitting the first one's head open. A return punch blew a hole through the second's torso. A leaping axe kick drove the third into the ground, and he grabbed the tentacles the fourth launched, tore them off, and hurled the main body itself into a ruined building with a *splat*. The sound of flesh being crushed echoed four times in quick succession. In a matter of seconds, it was all over. However. When Saitama turned around, what stood there was a group of black shadows. ◇ "—Good work, B-Class Saitama." A mechanical voice spoke. Over a dozen men in black armored suits. Their faces were covered by visors, and they held specially-shaped firearms. The armbands of the Hero Association Special Forces glinted in the moonlight. A man who seemed to be the captain stepped forward. "S-Class Rank 2, Tatsumaki, the Tornado of Terror. We have confirmed your power rampage. Under Article 17 of the Hero Act, you are to be taken into temporary protective custody." "[angry]What... let go of me!" The other squad members forcibly pulled the collapsed Tatsumaki's arms behind her back, fitting her with heavy metal shackles. On her wrists, and then her neck, a cold, collar-like device was attached. No. Help me. *'I had... something... I wanted to tell you properly...'* Her thought waves, now fragmented, flowed into Saitama's head like static electricity. Saitama stood silently before the captain. "Move." The captain didn't flinch. Instead, he thrust a thick bundle of documents at him. "This is an official order from the Association's upper echelon. If you interfere, you won't get off lightly either." The captain added, in a voice barely audible: "If you defy us, those sisters' hero registrations will be permanently revoked. They won't just cease to be heroes — they'll cease to exist socially. You understand what that means, don't you?" Saitama's fist slowly clenched. These fists, which worked on monsters, weren't even allowed to be raised against the invisible walls of authority and law. Even if he blew these guys away here and now, it wouldn't end there. All that would remain was their ruin. *(...I can't move.)* There are things power can't protect. That reality pressed down on him, heavy and crushing. Tatsumaki was hoisted up by the squad members and forcibly marched toward an armored vehicle. As she was turned around, her large golden eyes stared fixedly at Saitama alone. She couldn't speak. Her lips just moved. —Help me. Clutching the orders, Saitama just stood there, rooted to the spot. He was irrationally furious at himself for being able to do nothing. Soon, the armored vehicle's door closed, and the sirens faded into the distance. A separate medical team loaded Fubuki onto a stretcher and carried her away. In the now-empty ruins, only the smell of blood remained. ◇ How long had he been standing there? Suddenly, a giant monitor attached to the wall of a ruined building flickered to life with a burst of static. On the screen appeared an elderly gentleman with a gentle smile. His long silver hair, tied back, gleamed coldly under the fluorescent lights. The old scar on his face and the thin scar near his mouth twisted every time he smiled. Silverfang. "[gentle]Well now, Saitama-kun. You've worked hard." Saitama glared silently at the screen. "[sarcastic]Hmm. Judging by that face, it seems you've grasped the situation." "...Was this you?" A low voice, filled with barely suppressed rage. "[gentle]Yes, I orchestrated everything. The escort mission, luring the monsters tonight, setting up the psychic suppression field — all of it." A voice that merely stacked facts, one by one, without emotion. "I intend to research Tatsumaki's power rampages and apply them for military use. For that, I needed you — her emotional trigger. It seems I've obtained far better data than I imagined. The human heart is such a fragile thing, so easy to exploit." "Fubuki... her getting hurt. Was that part of your calculations too?" "[cold]Yes. That she would shield her sister was easily predictable from personality analysis. If anything, one could say she was fortunate it was only this severe an injury. The precision of the data has increased dramatically because of it." The old man's smile deepened just a little. That smile was more incomprehensible, more chilling, than any monster he had ever seen. "[serious]Your fists are strong, Saitama-kun. But the world doesn't run on fists alone." Leaving those final words, the video cut off abruptly. Silence enveloped the ruins once more. Saitama didn't move. He just stared down at the ground. Where Fubuki had fallen, a dark, lukewarm bloodstain still remained. Gazing fixedly at it, an emotion he was consciously aware of for the first time seethed deep in his chest. *(If I... had just realized sooner.)* Regret. Anger. And the powerlessness of not being able to protect them. These feelings churned his heart — the heart that should have been bored and dried out — into a chaotic mess. He no longer cared about sales on cheap pork scraps or tomorrow's flash discounts. Tatsumaki. Fubuki. It was only because those two were there that this world had started to become a little less boring. And yet. Saitama clenched his fist. If there's a wall these fists can't reach, then he just has to find a way to smash it. Both of them were in a place his fists couldn't reach. He had to bring them ba