"Damn it!"
W'Kabi's bravado cracked. The combined fire of warships and warriors—enough to scour steel—had been squeezed to the size of a baseball, blazing in Saitama's palm.
Even a fool could tell: if that thing detonated, everyone here would die on the spot.
Worse for every pair of bulging eyes on the cliffs, the baseball-sized sphere kept shrinking—Saitama calmly compressed it down to a ping-pong ball, the energy inside bleaching toward pure white.
"This is bad—Saitama's in danger! That yield could level the whole valley—what is he doing?!"
Shuri's face went pale. As Wakanda's foremost engineer, she knew exactly what that much power meant.
Then—
The royals who'd been scattering, the soldiers who'd been running for their lives—every last one of them froze.
"Gulp—hiss—"
Saitama flicked the ping-pong-sized energy core into his mouth.
He shut his lips. Chewed. There was a muffled thump—no shockwave—though the stone beneath his boots spiderwebbed apart on impact. It had absolutely exploded… inside his mouth.
And the bald monster… sighed contentedly and let out a burp.
"Buurp—kinda tastes like watermelon."
A wisp of white vapor curled from his lips.
Are you kidding me? He tasted it? What—
"Earth's strongest man…"
T'Challa murmured, eyes unfocused.
As the Black Panther, he'd never put much stock in the media hype around "superheroes"—the ones the U.S. loved to trumpet: S.H.I.E.L.D. darlings, Avengers headliners. Many weren't his match at all.
He'd heard the nickname "the strongest man on Earth" for Saitama and assumed it was a journalist's stunt.
But now…
He believed.
If this wasn't the strongest, what was?
Swallow an energy core? T'Challa wouldn't dare with ten lives to spend. His strength came from the Panther habit—well, and now from Saitama's upgrades to his body—but mouths don't train. How do you toughen a tongue? The inside of a skull?
Silence rolled over the arena, so complete that only the waterfall's roar remained.
Every gaze, stunned and colorless, fixed on Saitama.
In that moment, no one saw an outsider. They saw only awe.
"That was dangerous," Saitama scratched his gleaming head. "Your attacks are strong. Could've hurt bystanders."
W'Kabi: "…"
His throat worked. He wanted to speak, but his mouth was dry and nothing came out.
Monster.
Beyond a doubt. He'd thought warships meant absolute fire superiority. He'd been wrong—embarrassingly, laughably wrong.
Match Saitama in firepower?
Please.
The instant Saitama steps onto the field, you've already lost. Numbers won't bridge the gap in quality.
A lot of people confuse "strongest" with "invincible."
Strongest means you fight and defeat everyone to earn the title.
Invincible?
Sorry—you've already won before a fight even begins, because your opponent has zero chance.
W'Kabi felt hollowed out, a balloon with all the air sucked from it. Soul gone, he stood there like a walking corpse.
Saitama glanced his way and said evenly, "Now, I'd like to talk about appointing—and removing—a king."
(End of Chapter)
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