The journey to the Black Bulls' base was a strange one.
Yami led the way, a hulking silhouette of nonchalant power. Asta trailed behind, stealing glances at Saitama every few seconds, his mind still trying to process the image of that golden cage.
Saitama, for his part, walked with a placid expression, occasionally asking if they were there yet. The blank grimoire followed him like a loyal, rectangular dog.
Genos walked at his Sensei's right, his optical sensors scanning the recovering capital with cold efficiency. He logged mana signatures, architectural weaknesses, and potential threats with the detached focus of a supercomputer.
"This base of yours," Genos stated, his voice a low, metallic hum. "Does it have a dedicated workshop? I must conduct diagnostics on my power core. The dimensional transition created… unforeseen particle friction."
Yami blew a smoke ring. "We got a room with junk in it. Knock yourself out."
Asta finally found his voice. "But Captain Yami! To be a Magic Knight, you need a grimoire that's… you know… from the Clover Kingdom! And you have to pass the exam! There are rules!"
"I'm a squad captain," Yami grunted, not breaking stride. "I just broke 'em. Problem?"
Asta wisely decided it was not a problem.
Soon, they arrived. The Black Bulls' base was less of a headquarters and more of a multi-story architectural disaster. It was a bizarre mashup of towers, annexes, and lopsided extensions that looked like it had been built by a dozen different people who weren't on speaking terms.
Saitama stared up at it. "Looks kinda messy."
"Structural integrity is suboptimal," Genos added. "I detect multiple stress fractures and irregular magical reinforcement."
"Home sweet home," Yami said, kicking the massive front door open with a resounding crash.
The chaos hit them like a physical blow.
"I told you not to eat my pudding, you flaming idiot!" a voice roared. A baseball made of swirling fire shot across the common room.
"It looked sad and lonely in there!" another voice shot back, as a chain-wielding youth in a delinquent's coat dodged the projectile.
A nearly-nude man with a sister complex was fawning over a picture. A small girl was munching on a roasted bird leg the size of her head. And a woman in little more than a bra and hat was sprawled on a sofa, sipping from a wine bottle.
This was the elite Magic Knight squad, the Black Bulls.
Vanessa, the witch, sat up, her sleepy eyes landing on the newcomers. "Oh, Yami's back. And he brought guests. A shiny one and a… shiny one." She squinted at Saitama's head.
The fight stopped. All eyes turned to the doorway.
Magna Swing, the fire-bat user, pointed a flaming finger. "Who the hell are they?"
"New recruits," Yami announced, striding into the room and collapsing onto his favorite chair. "Baldy is Saitama. Tin Can is Genos. Be nice or I'll kill you."
A moment of silence. Then, laughter.
Luck Voltia, his face alight with a manic grin, zipped in front of Saitama, crackling with lightning. "No way! This guy doesn't have a drop of mana! Is this a joke?"
He didn't wait for an answer. "Fight me!"
A fist made of pure lightning magic shot toward Saitama's face. It was impossibly fast, a move that could paralyze a vice-captain.
Asta yelled a warning. Genos's arm blurred, preparing to intercept.
They were both too slow.
The lightning fist hit Saitama square on the cheek.
Fizzle.
The electricity grounded harmlessly against his skin. It didn't even leave a mark.
Saitama didn't flinch. He just slowly turned his head to look at Luck, a deep sense of weary annoyance in his eyes.
"Hey. Can you not do that? I'm trying to figure out where the kitchen is."
Luck's smile froze on his face. He stared at his sparking hand, then at Saitama's completely unmarked face. For the first time in his life, he felt a flicker of something that wasn't bloodlust or joy. It was confusion.
"H-How…?"
Before he could process it, Magna stepped up. "Alright, pretty boy, my turn! You're not a real Bull until you've been initiated!" He slammed his flaming bat into the ground. "Secret Fire Magic: Soul Chain Deathmatch!"
Saitama found himself chained to Magna by a tether of blazing magic.
"Let's see you get out of this!" Magna roared.
Saitama looked down at the fire chain attached to his wrist. Then he looked at Magna. He gave the chain a gentle tug.
Poof.
The chain of soul-binding fire magic evaporated into nothing.
Magna stared at his empty hands, his jaw slack. The entire room was silent. Even Yami was watching now, a slow, dangerous grin spreading across his face.
This was even better than he thought.
Genos stepped forward, a slight protective posture in his stance. "Further hostilities are illogical. My Sensei has no interest in these pointless displays."
"Sensei?" Gauche muttered from his corner.
Saitama sighed and walked past the stunned Magna and Luck. His nose twitched. He was getting a scent.
He followed it to a small, unassuming door, where a tiny girl with pink hair was watching the scene unfold with wide, curious eyes. Charmy Pappitson.
"Excuse me," Saitama said politely. "Is this the kitchen?"
Charmy blinked up at him, then summoned one of her giant, fluffy sheep cooks. "Are you hungry?"
A small, almost imperceptible gleam appeared in Saitama's eyes. "Very."
Suddenly, Genos stumbled.
A red warning light flashed on the core in his chest. A vent on his back hissed, releasing a cloud of overheated vapor. He placed a hand on the wall to steady himself.
"Sensei… my core is failing to regulate," he reported, his voice tight. "The ambient mana in this atmosphere is acting as a contaminant. Energy output is down to 42 percent and falling. I require immediate repair and recalibration."
Vanessa sat up straight, her drunken haze gone in an instant. Her magic, the weaving of fate itself, felt the cyborg's plight as a fraying thread. "He's in trouble. His life force… it's sputtering like a wet fuse."
The levity of the failed initiation was gone.
Asta rushed to Genos's side. "What can we do?"
Saitama turned from the promise of food, his bored expression finally replaced by a sliver of concern. "Genos, what do you need?"
"A stable, high-density energy source, free of magical particles," Genos said, running a thousand diagnostic simulations. "And a compatible conduit to bypass the contaminated primary intake. The odds of finding such materials here are…" He trailed off, looking at the stone-and-wood room around them.
He was a piece of advanced technology in an age of magic and castles. There was nothing for him here.
Yami took a long drag from his cigarette. "Huh. Looks like your robot friend is a dud."
The blank grimoire, which had been hovering quietly in the corner, suddenly drifted forward.
It floated right in front of Genos's failing chest-core.
A single, brilliant character, a rune that looked both ancient and impossibly futuristic, bloomed into existence on its cover.
Then, with a soft hum, the grimoire opened. To page one.