This was only the beginning.
Saitama started walking, unhurriedly heading toward the robot legion. Facing the dense barrage of incoming laser beams, he moved like he was taking a stroll in the rain, shifting his body with the smallest possible motions and casually avoiding every shot. Each step he took landed exactly in the gaps between attacks. Each step closer sent the robots' threat-assessment index skyrocketing.
He stepped into the swarm and began his "cleanup."
No flashy techniques—just the simplest straight punches and hooks. Every time he threw a punch, one robot—sometimes several—would get hit. Their alloy armor, tough enough to withstand rifle bullets, was like paper in front of those fists, instantly pierced, torn apart, and blasted into countless fragments. Gears, circuit boards, and metal shells sprayed everywhere.
He advanced step by step. With every punch, he cleared a small patch, forcibly carving a path through what looked like an endless steel flood—a road paved with wreckage. His target was obvious: he walked straight toward the command unit buried under layers of protection at the center of the formation, the control core that kept transmitting directive signals—the rebel mainboard itself.
At last, he stood before that special large robot: the legion's central hub.
The hub robot raised every weapon it had and opened fire like mad. Saitama ignored the beams hitting him—only to be strangely deflected away—and extended his fist.
One punch.
Right into the spot where the core processor was.
Bang!
There was no explosion. All light simply went out in an instant. The hub robot stood there as if its soul had been yanked away, then collapsed with a clatter, falling apart piece by piece. At the same time, every robot still active in the entire block had the red glow in its eyes extinguish simultaneously. Their movements cut off mid-action, like someone pressed pause—then they all froze in place, completely shutting down.
The rebellion ended in the simplest, most brutally direct way possible.
Saitama patted dust that didn't exist off his hands, bent down, and picked up the plastic bag that had fallen to the ground. He carefully checked the eggs inside.
"Mm. Not cracked."
Carrying the bag, he stepped around the carpet of robot wreckage and continued on his way home—leaving behind a crowd of dumbstruck civilians, and Ant-Man and Wasp, who had only just regrouped and arrived.
"Scott… what did we just… see?" Wasp muttered blankly.
"I… I don't know…" Ant-Man swallowed hard. "But our armor definitely wouldn't survive a punch like that…"
Meanwhile, at the Natural History Museum's Maya civilization exhibit, normally a place of scholarship and calm—today's peace was completely shattered.
At the center of the hall, a set of Maya war-god stone statues, freshly excavated from deep in the Yucatán Peninsula jungle and transported here, began to glow with an eerie green light without any warning. Ancient runes across their surfaces lit up one after another.
Under the horrified stares of the visitors, those heavy statues—carved from the hardest stone—started making crack-crack sounds as their joints began to move.
Their massive stone feet stomped forward, spiderwebbing expensive marble flooring with cracks, while the huge stone spears and axes in their hands swung at random—easily smashing display cases, information placards, even support pillars into rubble. Panicked tourists and staff screamed as they fled.
Black Panther, T'Challa, who had been sent to investigate the abnormal energy signal, happened to be on site. In an instant, he activated his vibranium Black Panther suit, claws snapping out as he moved to stop the rampaging living statues.
(End of Chapter)
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