"These cows look pretty tough. Bet the meat's nice and springy, huh?"
Drool at the corner of his mouth, the bald slacker swept his gaze over the armored rhinos that had frozen mid-stampede.
As a powerhouse from the One-Punch world, Saitama had grown used to eating monsters when money got tight. Ahem—only the ones that looked edible: kelp monsters, mushroom monsters, and the like. Stewed, they weren't half bad.
These rhinos? One would probably last quite a while. Then again, his appetite was terrifying—he could down a mountain of meat. Maybe… a whole-rhino roast?
"Everyone forward! Protect him!"
Okoye, captain of the Royal Guard, shouted, leading the Dora Milaje in a hard charge to screen the stranger.
But as they closed in, something uncanny happened.
The armored rhinos stood like statues. Even their bellows cut off mid-note, their eyes gone glassy.
"What's going on? Weren't they rampaging a moment ago?"
Okoye's heart lurched. She'd grown up among the great beasts of the savanna—fierce, brutal things—but now the rhinos loosed a sound she'd almost never heard from them.
That sound… impossible.
Fear?
The so-called invincible lords of the plains were… afraid? Not even prides of lions, tigers, or wolf packs could make them flinch.
The next second—just as Okoye's unit rushed in to pull Saitama clear—
Thump.
A dull report.
Thump. Thump.
One after another, the massive rhinos buckled to their knees, forelegs folding, bodies trembling too hard to move.
Every terrified eye fixed on Saitama. Wherever his gaze fell, another rhino dropped.
Primal terror before a higher lifeform.
Just like the Ashura Kabuto the first time he saw Saitama—frozen, retreating on instinct.
"…"
Okoye's squad stared, dumbfounded.
"Did I see that right? They've stopped resisting?"
"Did they get… scared to death? What just happened?"
"Don't tell me—!"
Dozens of eyes swung to Saitama. In the bright sun, that shiny scalp blazed like a beacon.
With their current force, subduing these rhinos would be nearly impossible. And now? It looked like picking fish off the sand.
"Honored sir, I am Okoye of Wakanda. Where do you hail from?" Okoye stepped up, measuring the bald man from head to toe.
"Me? Saitama. A professional hero for fun. As for where I'm from… call it New York."
He paused. Saying "another world" wouldn't make sense to them; and most of his business these days ran through Stark's company in New York anyway.
"Saitama?!"
Okoye blinked. Before she could place the name, a squeal burst over her comm from the lab.
"Oh my gosh! That's Saitama?!" Shuri's voice.
Okoye's face twitched. She clearly hadn't heard the name much herself.
"Hello, Mr. Saitama. I'm Shuri, sister of King T'Challa of Wakanda. This is our Royal Guard captain, Ms. Okoye. Wakanda welcomes you."
A clean holo projection blossomed from Okoye's wristband—Shuri in her lab, bright-eyed. As head of Wakanda's technology center, she tracked the outside world more than most. Lately, Saitama had been everywhere—almost no one in New York didn't know him.
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Shuri. Ms. Okoye," Saitama said, curious but sleepy-eyed.
"Okoye, please escort Mr. Saitama to the palace as our guest," Shuri beamed. Okoye froze a beat. Shuri rarely approved visitors—and now she was inviting one herself?
"As you wish, Princess. Mr. Saitama, Wakanda welcomes you. Would you like a tour?"
"Oh? Wakanda? Sure." Saitama nodded after one second of thought. "Also, could you bring along one of those rhinos? Whole-roast for dinner."
He pointed at a beast at random. When you're a slacker who just fell out of the sky, you go with the flow.
Okoye had the Dora shackle the rhinos for transport. She halted at a ridge, lifted a hand, and brushed the air. Ripples like water rolled across an invisible wall, scanning her biometrics.
"Please enter," she said, turning back.
The world shifted.
Towering, sci-fi spires; rows of sleek, gleaming towers; skimming air-sleds stitching bright paths through the sky. Not like any modern city—more like tomorrow, already here.
"Astonishing, isn't it? Wakanda's technology is centuries beyond—"
Okoye lifted her chin, ready to enjoy the jaw-drop.
"Uh?"
She turned. Saitama was nodding off on his feet, head bobbing like a buoy.
No shock at all?
Resigned to the truth—this man was peak salted-fish—Okoye led him to the palace. Shuri was already waiting.
"Welcome, Mr. Saitama! I've heard so much. I can't imagine a human being as strong as you!"
Eyes sparkling like a fangirl's, Shuri circled him, firing off questions. Okoye rolled her eyes. The Princess who practically lived in the lab—who even T'Challa struggled to pry out—had come down personally?
"Hey, Shuri," Saitama said, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He stuck out a hand, blank as ever—no smile, no polite flourish, just the classic deadpan egg-face.
This guy… with a princess? Not even a token smile?
Okoye kept the commentary inside.
"Wonderful! I actually get to shake Saitama's hand!" Shuri all but hopped in place. She'd clearly been following him for a while.
Guuuuuurrrgle—
Saitama's stomach chimed in.
Awkward.
"Mr. Saitama, you haven't had dinner, have you? Please join us—my brother T'Challa as well," Shuri said warmly.
Are you mad? Okoye's eyes went round. Royal dinner, inviting an outsider?
"Sure. Got anything tasty?" Saitama replied without missing a beat.
Okoye: "…"
I saw nothing. I will say nothing.
"Of course! Including that whole-roast rhino you mentioned!" Shuri was over the moon—as if dining with Saitama were some grand honor.
(End of Chapter)
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