Final Battle · Offshore

Everyone looked at Saitama.

Saitama bit down on a potato chip, looking a little bewildered.

"Huh?" he said. "None of you can break it?"

No one spoke.

Genos nodded.

"Yes, Teacher Saitama," he said. "The barrier's strength exceeds the upper limit of conventional weapons. It cannot be breached."

Saitama went, "Oh," then stuffed the remaining chips back into the bag.

"Then I'll give it a try."

He walked two steps forward and entered the ritual hall.

The Ancient Pot floated in the center of the hall, radiating a dim black light. Ghostly hands continued to sprout around it.

Saitama walked up to the Ancient Pot and stopped.

He looked up.

This pot doesn't look particularly tough, either.

He raised his right hand.

A normal punch.

There was no earth-shaking aura, no dazzling light.

Just a simple punch, smashing into the Ancient Pot's barrier.

Crack.

A faint sound.

Like shattering glass.

Then—

The barrier shattered like paper.

His fist continued on and slammed into the Ancient Pot itself.

Boom—!

A deep, muffled impact reverberated through the hall.

The Ancient Pot split down the middle, then shattered into countless fragments.

A vast tide of black cursed energy surged from the fragments. The instant it touched Saitama's fist, it melted away like snow beneath the blazing sun.

Cleanly.

Nothing remained.

Everyone outside the hall stood frozen.

In the corridor, the endless stream of ghostly hands seemed to have been hit by a pause button.

Then, one after another, they turned to ash.

They dispersed.

The ghostly hands throughout the entire ship vanished within seconds.

The distant screams also stopped.

The world suddenly fell silent.

Everyone looked at the bald man standing in the center of the hall.

Their eyes were filled with shock.

With... one punch?

A several-thousand-year-old ancient contract, a curse that