Dream World.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Under the blood-red sky, the earth was shattered by the ravages of three non-human existences.
Four "Core Light Swords" swirled with high-temperature flame currents that could melt metal and corrode iron, splitting open the ground. The impact waves from the slashes completely leveled the surrounding remnants of building ruins, tearing huge gashes even in the blood-red clouds across the sky.
Saitama's seemingly ordinary straight punch caused the Dream Underground King, whose body was comparable to a mountain, to reel backward!
Han Sen, who was lurking nearby, followed up with a flying kick. "Dream Disaster" was triggered, and the light flames on his long leg bloomed with light and heat like the sun's core, unleashing power no less than Saitama's ordinary punch, completely blasting the unstable Dream Underground King deep underground!
The earth's crust roared, and magma splattered!
The next second, four intersecting purple sword lights shot into the sky. Saitama, in mid-air, fell straight down, avoiding two of them.
Han Sen, on the other hand, spread his hands and blasted out a "gaia Thermal Cannon" so hot it was impossible to look at directly, which collided head-on with the remaining two sword lights!
Boom!
A huge mushroom cloud shot into the sky. Saitama, landing, propped himself on the ground and leaped up, looking at the three blue fierce eyes glowing in the dust, his pupils burning with a high sheen.
"Hahahahaha! That's it! That's it!"
On Saitama's face was an unrestrained, hearty laugh!
It was a long-lost excitement and exhilaration from the depths of his soul!
The pain from his fists, the burning in his chest from heavy breathing, every single cell in his body cheered for pure combat!
Saitama's figure turned into a blurry afterimage, and when he reappeared, he was already in front of the Dream Underground King's face!
"Again… huh?"
However, his excited shout was drowned out by a piercing alarm clock!
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!!
…
…
Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Bang!!
The piercing alarm clock stopped abruptly. Saitama's fist hovered over a hole in the floor, his strong, bald head full of confusion.
Inside the apartment, there was silence.
Only the chirping of birds from outside the window in the early morning.
Saitama slowly sat up, finding himself covered by an air-conditioning quilt, sleeping directly on the floor.
He subconsciously looked at his fist, completely unharmed.
There was no blood on his body, nor any injuries.
In the air, there was no smell of sulfur or charcoal, only the cool freshness of the early morning.
He raised his hand, touched his cheek, then his chest.
Smooth, warm, without a trace of pain.
That thrilling, blood-boiling battle, that passion enough to burn his soul…
"So, it was a dream…"
Saitama muttered to himself, a hint of lingering desire flashing in his eyes, his voice carrying a touch of disappointment.
His gaze, which usually appeared somewhat dull due to his strong character design, was now unprecedentedly empty.
Like a child who had just woken up from a grand and wonderful party, only to find himself still alone, in an empty room.
That immense sense of disparity almost hollowed out his heart.
He put on his familiar yellow, red, and white combat suit, walked out of the bedroom, and entered the living room.
Han Sen, wearing an apron and humming a tune, was frying sunny-side up eggs in the kitchen. The sizzling oil and the fragrant aroma filled this small apartment with a sense of life.
"Yo, Saitama, up already?" Han Sen turned his head, greeted with a smile, "Good, breakfast will be ready soon."
"Ah, thanks for your hard work!"
Saitama replied, and a strange sense of doubt arose in his superhuman perception.
For some reason, the Han Sen in front of him, wearing a small bear apron over his shirt and trousers, gradually merged with the figure from his dream who had stood equally against an invincible Monster.
—Could it be… not a dream?
Just as Saitama was wondering.
Boom!
A slight tremor came from the ground beneath his feet.
"Gyahahaha! Humans on the surface! Tremble! Fear!"
An arrogant and sharp voice faintly came from below the apartment building, making Saitama and Han Sen look at each other.
"I am the Subterranean King! We are the true Earthlings!"
"Be prepared, surface dwellers! Today, I will lead my legion to completely conquer the surface! I will turn all of you surface dwellers into slaves of my race!!"
Saitama's pupils suddenly contracted.
Subterranean King?
Subterranean people's legion?
Could it be… the dream came true?!
A faint, almost imperceptible spark rekindled in his dormant heart.
The next second, his figure had disappeared from its original spot.
Outside the apartment building.
A not-too-small gap had opened in the ground, and dozens of ugly but dwarf-like subterranean people continuously poured out of it like moles.
Leading them was a Monster wearing a crown and wielding four purple light swords. Blue patterns covered its entire body, emitting Demon-level energy fluctuations.
It was the Demon-level Monster, the "Subterranean King."
"Minions! Attack! Destroy to your heart's content! To your heart's… Ugh, ah, ah, ah—"
Its arrogant declaration was not finished when a shadow descended from the sky!
It was a yellow figure, with a white cape fluttering behind him like dark clouds obscuring the sunlight.
Bang!
A dull thud.
No unnecessary movements, just one kick.
The Demon-level Subterranean King was directly stomped into the ground by Saitama, dying on the spot.
One by one, the strangely shaped subterranean people were sweating profusely. The next second, they swiftly raised white flags and all retreated back into the crack in the ground.
Z-City's uninhabited area returned to silence.
Weak.
Too weak.
"Sure enough, the Monsters in reality are so weak that they can't even stir up a single bit of fighting desire."
Shrugging his shoulders, Saitama's recently revived emotions settled down again.
However, just then, he seemed to sense something and suddenly looked up.
His gaze swept over the messy battlefield, accurately locking onto the figure walking out onto the apartment balcony, holding a plate of sunny-side up eggs.
Han Sen.
In Saitama's perception, a powerful aura, as profound and vast as in his dream, flashed and then vanished.
That was not a dream.
That was… real, undeniable power!
"Boom!"
As if invisible flames, they exploded in Saitama's eyes!
In those empty eyes, a blazing fire named "fighting spirit" ignited, strong enough to burn through the sky!
The desire for a true battle, which had always been suppressed in the deepest part of his heart, found its ultimate outlet at this moment!
Han Sen's steps paused slightly.
He felt that gaze, so hot it almost warped space.
He turned his head, meeting Saitama's gaze full of fighting spirit. Their eyes met in the air, seemingly sparking invisible flames.
Han Sen understood.
He understood the pure, unadulterated desire in Saitama's eyes.
He smiled faintly, raising the plate in his hand with an air of nonchalance.
"Let's eat breakfast first."
Saitama didn't move, just stared intently at him, his chest heaving violently.
Han Sen's smile widened: "After we eat, we can spar."
Sparring with the undisputed ceiling of this world—Han Sen had also been looking forward to something like this for a long time!
As his words fell, the fighting spirit, suppressed to the extreme on Saitama's increasingly rounded face, transformed into a brilliant, wide grin.
"Alright!"
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