"I support T'Challa as king. I do not support this W'Kabi fellow,"
Saitama said seriously.
Silence crashed down. The soldiers who'd been shouting for W'Kabi a moment ago all fell quiet. What a joke—if you're going to keep yelling now, are you hard-headed enough to eat an entire army's worth of energy rounds? If not, then keep your mouth shut!
"I support T'Challa!"
"Me too! His policies honor the late king's wishes!"
"Wakanda does not seek to invade other nations—we only need to protect our own people!"
"Long live peace!"
"T'Challa! T'Challa! T'Challa!"
The royals who hadn't dared to speak earlier finally found their voices, excitement lighting their faces.
They didn't want war. Even with technology a thousand years beyond the rest of Earth, once war breaks out and lives are lost, tech will inevitably leak. It wouldn't take long before counterfeits of Wakandan weapons spread like a tide.
Humanity is terrifying by nature; if the entire world turned on them, even Wakanda couldn't bear it.
That is what a true wise ruler should foresee.
"Do you have anything else to say, Mr. W'Kabi?"
Saitama looked over. W'Kabi's face twisted, his eyes went dim, and he finally dropped to his knees.
It was over. In front of this monster, his army and all his arrangements were worthless.
"Seize him!"
T'Challa gave the order at once. W'Kabi had disappointed everyone completely. His failed betrayal only cast him down into an abyss. The throne's rightful successor, T'Challa, naturally had his position restored.
"Saitama, what should we do with him?"
T'Challa pointed at W'Kabi.
"That's your business. Handle it yourselves,"
Saitama replied. He'd only shared his thoughts—no need for everyone to get so worked up.
"I proclaim T'Challa the new king of Wakanda! Let us cheer for him!"
The high priest finally stepped forward to announce the result. A roar of celebration erupted as the true new king was welcomed.
"Congratulations, onii-chan!" Shuri said, genuinely happy.
"To serve you is an honor, Heika,"
Okoye stepped up with a rare smile. She'd had no wish to become Erik's or W'Kabi's tool. Fate had a twisted sense of humor, but in the end the crown returned to T'Challa. And all of this… really did come down to that man—
Huh? Where did he go?
Okoye blinked. In the clamor of celebration, Saitama had vanished—along with Shuri and Agent Ross. With all eyes on the new king, no one noticed the trio slip away.
"We won! Yay!"
In Wakanda's research center, a certain salted-fish bald man whooped with delight. A supercomputer worth tens of billions was currently being used to run retro console games—say that out loud and people would call it sacrilege.
But the waiting-to-rotate-in Agent Ross figured it was worth it.
Because the one holding the controller was a legend.
"Are you throwing the match for me?" Saitama suddenly squinted, suspicious.
"N-no way. Saitama-sama is just really good at games now. I honestly can't beat you,"
Shuri did her best to sound sincere. He'd saved her brother, saved the country—losing to him was something she'd gladly accept.
"I told you, I've always been great at games! Right?"
The salted-fish hero even tilted his nose up, unbearably smug, enough to make Ross break into a nervous sweat on the sidelines.
"Alright. Thanks for the hospitality. I'm heading out,"
Saitama said abruptly, the virtual controller fading from his hands as he straightened.
(End of Chapter)
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