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Listening to Saitama and Ethan talk, Genos, the Armored Mosquito Beetle, and that one mad scientist (whatever his name was—probably doesn't matter since he's clearly a minor character anyway) all stood there dumbfounded. A second later, rage exploded across their faces.
To them, Ethan and Saitama were obviously mocking them. They weren't explaining anything—they were just toying with them.
Who on earth becomes a superhuman through normal training like that? And Ethan? Getting stronger by basking in the sun? What is he, a sunflower?
"Bastards! You two bastards! I'll kill you both! You think this is funny?!" the Armored Mosquito Beetle roared, his voice booming like thunder. "Fine, your power's great, mine's weak—that's nothing to be ashamed of! You don't want to tell me how you got stronger? Fine! But you lied to me! You mocked me! You think that's funny, you bastard?!"
His body began to swell, muscles bulging grotesquely as a violent, frenzied aura poured off him. The already-ugly creature was now even larger—terrifying, monstrous, and losing all control.
The mad scientist's face went pale. "Oh no! He's losing control—Ashura Beetle's gone berserk!"
Red lights flashed through the base, alarms wailing as the facility's systems went into overdrive.
"Oh? Looks like he got stronger again," Ethan said calmly, watching with genuine curiosity. "At least ten times stronger, I'd say. Not bad at all! Really, not bad."
Aside from the whole "being horrifyingly ugly" thing, Ethan actually found the Evolution House's experiments kind of impressive. If all their creations had turned out like Mosquito Girl, he'd probably have given the organization a round of applause.
"He actually powered up even more!" Genos gasped, popcorn-like hair practically standing on end. Even before the transformation, he hadn't been a match for the Armored Mosquito Beetle—but now, the sheer pressure radiating from that creature was overwhelming, suffocating.
"Oh!" Saitama blinked, his expression as blank as ever. Then, for the first time in a while, a spark of excitement flickered in his eyes. "So you're the Evolution House's ultimate weapon, huh? Don't let me down."
Ever since he'd gotten strong, Saitama's battles had become… dull. Every opponent, no matter how fearsome, went down with a single punch. The thrill was gone, replaced by an endless, numbing boredom.
Ethan was strong—Saitama could tell without even fighting him. But Ethan wasn't a monster, nor a villain, nor even really a hero (he didn't seem interested in that at all). And since Saitama was a "hero," technically he couldn't fight an ordinary civilian. Even if that "civilian" happened to be absurdly powerful.
And so, with no worthy opponents, Saitama's heroic life had become an endless loop of tedium and cheap groceries. His face showed it—blank, lifeless, and utterly uninterested.
But now, this Ashura Beetle thing actually looked promising. Maybe, just maybe, it would be fun.
"ROOOAR!"
"HAH!"
The two shouted at once, launching themselves straight at each other. It was a head-on clash—pure and simple.
Looking at their sizes, though, it was a ridiculous sight. Saitama, small and plain, stood across from a ten-meter-tall monster. The only thing that stood out about him was that shining bald head, gleaming under the fluorescent lights like a divine beacon.
Anyone who didn't know better would've immediately prayed for Saitama's survival.
But inside that unassuming body was a power far beyond comprehension—something the Armored Mosquito Beetle could never even begin to match.
BOOM!
Their fists collided.
In the next instant, cracks spiderwebbed across the monster's massive arm. His fist disintegrated, followed by his arm, then his head, and finally—his entire body.
Within a blink, the mighty "ultimate weapon" had been reduced to chunks of meat, as if he'd been made of paper all along.
"I knew it," Ethan said, shrugging. "Saitama's fights are the least interesting to watch. No matter the opponent, it's always one punch."
"I thought he'd be tougher," Saitama muttered, scratching his head, genuinely disappointed.
The mad scientist, who'd been full of manic confidence just minutes earlier, stood frozen—staring at Saitama like he'd just seen an actual monster.
"Well, at least that's done," Saitama said, pulling out a supermarket flyer. His eyes lit up. "Now I can go buy those discounted groceries tomorrow in peace!"
"Ahem. Hey, Baldy."
"Damn it, I told you—don't call me Baldy!"
"Don't take it so seriously, Baldy."
"I said don't call me that!"
"Baldy, you might wanna check that flyer again. The sale's today."
"…What?!"
Saitama froze, then collapsed to his knees in utter despair.
"Nooooo! Why?!"
"..."
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