Clint didn't relax for even a second. His gaze locked back onto the main battlefield.
He spotted Steve being tangled up by several spider monsters, vibranium shield raised to block a barrage of corrosive webbing. Clint's eyes narrowed, and his hands moved like lightning.
A short arrow fitted with a micro sonic shock device flew from the bowstring—silent, but incredibly fast. It shot straight into the soft inner mouth of a spider monster lunging from the blind spot near the edge of Steve's shield, aiming for his exposed side.
Bzzzt!
A shrill high-frequency shockwave detonated inside the creature's body. The spider monster convulsed violently, all of its limbs going ramrod stiff and numb in an instant. Its mouthparts burst apart, and its rigid body toppled sideways, perfectly tripping up the two other spiders that were pouncing toward Steve, briefly relieving the pressure on the captain's back.
Clint's line of sight immediately shifted to Saitama's position.
A cluster of bat monsters was seizing the instant when Saitama stomped a spider into paste and his eyes dipped slightly downward. They formed a small strike formation and dove from his blind spot at high speed.
Clint's response was almost pure reflex—a single arrow flashed away from the bow. It nailed the lead bat in midair, the impact slamming it sideways into the monster flying beside it. The formation shattered at once, their coordinated strike thrown into disarray.
That shot wasn't about stealing the kill. It was an instant of interference—nothing more.
Clint knew Saitama didn't need help killing anything. But if he could shave even 0.1 seconds of interruption off Saitama's advance toward the main body, it was worth it.
Up above the city, Clint had become a deadly phantom hanging in the sky. Every time he drew his bow, a reaping arrow flew—always landing exactly where it was most needed.
Sometimes it cut off a threat moving toward civilians in hiding.
Sometimes it peeled a single pressure point off a teammate.
Sometimes it quietly cleared away some tiny, seemingly insignificant obstacle along Saitama's path forward.
He forced himself to swallow the dizziness and nausea still pounding inside his skull, hawk-like eyes sweeping and circling over the battlefield again and again, gradually recovering the combat rhythm that belonged to Hawkeye.
"So annoying… this just goes on and on…"
Saitama smashed a spider monster blocking his way straight into the ground with one punch, driving it down into a deep crater. Chunks of shattered chitin flew out together with dust and dirt.
He casually wiped a small smear of sticky filth off his cheek. His movements remained as relaxed as ever, but his shiny bald head tilted slightly as he carefully studied the battlefield.
He'd noticed a subtle pattern.
The bat and spider monsters hurling themselves at him like they didn't care about dying… their movements weren't completely random.
Especially when he tried to force his speed and rush straight toward the main body.
The moment he did that, a large number of monsters—even some that had been attacking Steve's squad—would immediately break away and throw themselves in his path, fearless and suicidal, trying to block him.
But when the main body came under Steve and the others' furious assault, a portion of the mycelium tendrils would clearly pull back to defend it, and the overall pressure of the attacks would drop a little.
"Hm…"
Saitama's fist froze in midair, letting two bat monsters slam into it on their own and turn themselves into powder. He glanced thoughtfully at the distant main body pulsing behind the mycelium, shedding purple light and waves of psychic shock.
"So it really is you pulling the strings, huh? You're the one commanding these guys?" he muttered, a note of "finally figured out where the headache's coming from" dawning in his tone.
A very simple idea formed in that mind of his—
A mind with power that had long since broken every limit, but that still worked in a strangely straightforward way.
"Since you all want to protect it…" Saitama said quietly.
In the next instant, his previously straight, unstoppable rush toward the main body suddenly slowed. He even deliberately paused in place for a fraction of a second.
(End of Chapter)
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