200th Floor's Eternal Delayer: A Fight Takes at Least Two Hours

"Clatter—"

Genos's shopping cart overturned on the spot, sending potato chips and dorayaki rolling all over the floor. He stared at the milk flowing like a little river, then at the petrified Saitama, and decisively pressed his communicator. "Emergency call to Doctor Kuseno. The teacher is showing symptoms of rapidly declining vital signs, possibly due to a devastating psychological blow. Please prepare emergency nutritional fluid immediately!"

"Stop calling." Killua kicked away the bag of potato chips that had rolled to his feet and waved a hand in front of Saitama's eyes. "He's just contemplating life—pondering the ultimate philosophical question of 'Why did the milk I just bought spill, and why do I have to go fight in that damn 200th Floor?'"

Gon crouched down and carefully poked Saitama's arm. "Mr. Saitama? Are you all right? How about we don't go fight? I'll share my lollipop with you."

The moment he finished speaking, Saitama suddenly came back to life.

He grabbed Gon by the shoulders, desperation flashing in his eyes. "Gon, do you know? A match starting at four o'clock takes at least ten minutes. Ten minutes! The supermarket clears out the soon-to-expire milk section at 4:10! Milk that usually sells at half price goes down to thirty percent when it's near its expiration date! Thirty percent!"

"..." Killua covered his face. "I take back what I said. He's not contemplating life. He's calculating his financial losses."

"Teacher!" Genos immediately straightened, his eyes glowing red. "I have calculated the optimal route! From the supermarket to the 200th Floor of Heaven's Arena, the fastest route will take twelve minutes. If you can finish the battle within three minutes, we can still make it back before they clear the shelves! I already asked the supermarket's cleaning lady to save the bottom box of