Plop.
Maybe that butt attack earlier was too strong—Saitama's belt slipped and his pants dropped, exposing his patterned swim trunks.
"Pervert!!"
Women screamed from the audience.
"Guess I won, right?"
Saitama casually picked up his pants, slipped them on without shame, and turned toward the judges.
Specifically—
Toward Bomb, the one who had promised a prize of one billion yen.
"Let's congratulate this year's champion—Saitama!!"
The host finally shouted hysterically.
The crowd erupted in cheers, while martial artists sat in silence, some bitter, some envious.
"I thought it was Charanko… but meeting Saitama was worth the trip," Kusuo muttered.
"Damn it… I couldn't even beat Suiryu. To defeat this bald guy…"
In the crowd, former champion Bakuzan clenched his fists, face dark.
"Hey, old man, about that billion yen—cash or transfer?"
Whoosh.
Barefoot Saitama was suddenly at Bomb's side.
"Eh?!"
Bomb, caught mid-conversation with Bang, coughed awkwardly.
"Don't worry. I'll pay. Just not carrying all of it now—it's at my dojo."
"Yes, part is at mine too. We're brothers, after all," Bang added quickly.
"Then let's go. Don't trick me, or the result will be bad," Saitama said flatly.
"Of course, of course…"
Both old masters sweated nervously.
"Oh, and don't forget the 50 million yen prize for the champion."
Passing the host, Saitama remembered even the small stuff.
"Uh… right away. Ah, Saitama, your medal—"
"Keep it. I just want the gold."
The host explained it was solid gold.
"Oh? Then give me that too. Don't forget."
The crowd blacklined.
Was this guy even a martial artist?
Yet the brothers sighed—despite his greed, his talent was undeniable.
"Should we check on Garou? The prison's strong, but I'm still uneasy," Bomb asked.
"It'll be fine. Plenty of heroes guard it. We'll settle it later…" Bang said gloomily.
They both looked at Saitama. Greedy, lazy—but a true genius.
"Mr. Saitama is… unique."
"Bah! Martial artists shouldn't lust after money!"
"No, he earned it—it's his!"
"Money taints martial arts! Disgraceful!"
The audience argued, but Saitama tuned them out.
Did I eat your rice or something?
Hands in pockets, he crab-walked after the two old men.
Everyone watched the champion leave, envy written on their faces.
From the stands, Carnage Kabuto leaned toward Helen.
"Big sis, should we follow boss and protect him?"
"No. A better show is about to start here. We'll handle cleanup."
Helen smiled softly. Her goal was simple: protect Saitama, and gather intelligence on the Monster Association.
That's why she had Carnage Kabuto at her side.
Moments later, judges began reorganizing martial artist rankings—
Until screams erupted.
"Look! What's that?!"
A massive black bird blotted the sky, as big as a passenger jet.
Boom!
Several five-to-six-meter black birds crashed down, claws gripping unconscious youths.
"Roji, Fatty, and Bazz! All captured?!"
The host gasped.
They were family of Association executives, being escorted to hospitals. If they were here—those heroes must have fallen.
"I'm out! Save yourselves!"
A martial artist fled in terror.
Kusuo tried to stop him—
Boom!
A seven-to-eight-meter giant slammed down.
Its skin dark and rough as iron, claws like black blades, clad in samurai armor.
Four eyes gleamed from a cross-marked face, fangs bared in terror.
One step—
The fleeing martial artist coughed blood and died instantly.
"So, all the contestants are here? Good. Though… just small fry. The martial world has fallen!"
The Dragon-level monster sneered, the earth shaking beneath him.
(End of Chapter)
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