A volley of bone spines shot toward him.
Saitama's body swayed ever so slightly, and as if he'd predicted their paths in advance, he slipped past every single spine's trajectory.
Then he casually threw out a few punches.
"Bang, bang, bang!"
With a series of crisp impacts, the spinning monsters popped like punctured balloons, bone spurs and scraps of flesh spraying everywhere.
One shadow hunter tried to sneak up on him from behind, its claws just about to rake across his bald head.
Saitama didn't even turn around. He simply swung his elbow back in a lazy-looking strike.
Crack.
The bone-splitting crunch made everyone's teeth ache.
The ambusher flew back at a speed far greater than when it'd lunged forward, slammed into a rock giant's leg, and then slid down limply.
"There really are a lot of you," Saitama muttered as he effortlessly wiped out the monsters swarming toward him.
"But the quality's way worse than that big mushroom from earlier."
He cut through the battlefield like a high-efficiency weed-whacker. Wherever he passed, monsters collapsed one after another, leaving nothing but wreckage in his wake.
Even so, the creatures pouring out from the ground fissures seemed endless.
They just kept coming, wave after wave, hemming everyone in within this ruined battlefield.
And though Saitama was like an unshakable pillar in the center, erasing huge swaths of enemies, there were simply too many of them.
Their attack patterns were too weird, too dense.
Relying on him alone, it was impossible to shield every direction at once.
Steve, Natasha, and Clint understood this better than anyone.
They rapidly shifted positions, coordinating with Saitama to form an effective defensive line.
"Saitama, you take the left! We'll cover the right and the rear!" Steve shouted.
At the same time, he hurled his shield with all his might.
The shield traced a beautiful arc through the air, smashing into two magma pangolins that had tried to circle around Saitama to rush the agents' formation.
Both monsters were knocked head-over-heels, tumbling back across the rubble, and the shield ricocheted perfectly back into Steve's waiting hand.
He moved like a mobile fortress, vibranium shield raised high as he blocked streams of fire and acid, and deflected another barrage of bone spines.
Behind him, the agents unleashed concentrated firepower from the safe pocket of space he carved out, turning it into a lethal kill zone.
And whenever a monster managed to push through that storm of bullets and blasts, Steve would pounce like a tiger, using shield bashes and close-quarters combat techniques to put it down in the blink of an eye.
"Got it," Saitama replied simply.
His figure blurred, and in the next instant he was already in the thickest cluster of monsters on the left flank.
His fists turned into afterimages.
Each punch was accompanied by the booming crack of air being shattered—and the agonized screams of the monsters.
His pace of clearing them out was terrifyingly fast, but he wasn't just flailing blindly.
"Careful over there. Those ones can spray spikes," he called out, still with enough leisure to shout a warning to Natasha not far away.
Natasha moved like a ghostly dancer on the battlefield.
She didn't have Steve's overwhelming defense, nor Saitama's crushing raw power, but she pushed agility and technique to their absolute limit.
She used fallen pillars and broken walls as cover and springboards, weaving through the monster swarm at high speed.
She drew fire, split enemy groups apart, and disrupted their formations.
Her pistols and the shock modules on her wrists were like the whisper of death itself, always finding the gaps in armor, exposed eyes, or joints—those tiny weaknesses that she could exploit with deadly precision.
A shadow hunter that was about to sneak up on Clint from the side suddenly had its throat blown out by a shot from Natasha, collapsing mid-pounce.
Clint, perched on the high ground, swept the battlefield with his hawk-sharp gaze.
"Three o'clock, rock giant's knee!" he called out.
His bow bent into a full crescent, and a high-explosive arrow streaked away like a meteor.
Boom!
The blast erupted right at the rock giant's vulnerable knee joint.
Shards of stone flew in all directions as the monster let out a painful roar, collapsing heavily onto one knee, its mobility crippled.
"Natasha! It's down!" Clint shouted.
Even as he spoke, he'd already nocked another arrow.
A piercing shot flew straight into the gaping maw of another magma pangolin just as it opened its jaws to spew fire.
(End of Chapter)
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