Storm

The burly man's fist came crashing down.

The surrounding examinees burst into laughter.

"That bald guy's done for."

"With a punch like that, the big guy could smash a rock."

The fist whistled through the air, hurtling straight at Saitama's face.

Crack.

The laughter stopped.

The burly man remained in his punching stance, the vicious expression still on his face. Then his eyes suddenly widened, his mouth fell open, and his entire face twisted.

"Ah—!"

A scream like a pig being slaughtered.

With a thud, he dropped to his knees and clutched his right hand. From the wrist down, every finger bent in directions fingers were never meant to bend, like a lump of flattened putty.

A deathly silence fell over the crowd.

Someone sucked in a breath so loudly that the entire deck could hear it. Someone else dropped their luggage without even noticing. The people who had jeered the loudest just moments ago now clamped their mouths shut, barely daring to breathe.

Everyone retreated three steps in unison. A wide empty space opened up on the deck.

No one dared look at Saitama.

Saitama scratched his cheek.

"A little itchy."

He turned around, walked to the railing, and resumed looking at the sea, as if nothing had happened.

The burly man was still screaming on his knees. No one dared help him up.

On the other side of the deck, the crewman Katz was gathering up some ropes. Two examinees walked over and deliberately kicked apart the coil he had just finished.

"You think you're so great because you're a crewman?"

Katz lowered his head and began coiling them again without a word. One of them reached out and shoved his shoulder. "Are you deaf?" Katz staggered back two steps and hit the railing.

The examinee who had shoved him caught sight of Saitama from the corner of his eye, and his hand froze in midair. He had been among the people jeering earlier.

"Let's go."

"Why?"

"That bald guy... you saw it too."

The two hurried away, walking twice as fast as they had when they came. Katz looked at Saitama. Saitama yawned.

"I'm going to become the greatest Hunter!"

A shout came from the bow.

A spiky-haired boy stood with his hands on his hips, beaming brightly. The surrounding examinees glanced at him, but no one responded. Most of them still had not recovered from what had just happened.

Gon did not care in the slightest. He turned and saw Katz leaning against the railing, ropes scattered all over the ground.

"Are you okay?"

He ran over, crouched down, and helped coil the ropes. He finished in no time, dusted off his hands, and stood up.

Then he spotted Saitama.

Gon walked over and looked up at Saitama's bald head.

"Mister! That big guy just tried to hit you. Why didn't you dodge?"

Saitama looked down at him. One eyebrow twitched.

"...Mister?"

"Yeah! I'm Gon! What's your name, mister?"

A small vein popped on Saitama's forehead.

"...I'm only twenty-five."

Gon tilted his head. "Twenty-five is really old, though. I'm twelve."

The vein on Saitama's forehead grew a little bigger.

"Call me big brother."

"Huh? But Aunt Mito said I should be polite when I go out—"

"Call me big brother."

Gon thought about it, then grinned. "Big Brother Saitama!"

The vein on Saitama's forehead vanished. "Mm."

"Big Brother Saitama, you still haven't answered me. Why didn't you dodge?"

"Couldn't be bothered."

Gon's eyes lit up. "That's amazing! Then you won't dodge the storm either?"

"The storm?"

Gon pointed at the sky. "It's coming soon. A huge storm."

Saitama looked down at his clean yellow T-shirt.

[Inner thought: It's going to rain?]

[Inner thought: Should I take shelter?]

[Inner thought: I'd have to walk over there.]

[Inner thought: There are too many people in the cabin.]

[Inner thought: Noisy.]

[Inner thought: I'd have to open the door.]

[Inner thought: Then close the door.]

[Inner thought: I'm going to get wet anyway.]

[Inner thought: Forget it.]

He frowned.

As soon as Gon finished speaking, he ran toward the lookout platform and scampered up. Seabirds flew low, and the clouds thickened.

As soon as Gon finished speaking, he ran toward the lookout platform and scampered up. Seabirds flew low, and the clouds thickened.

"Captain! A storm is coming! A huge storm!"

The captain emerged with a pipe in his mouth, looked up once, and ordered the sails lowered. The crew began bustling about.

The examinees on deck finally snapped out of it and started talking among themselves in small groups.

"A storm? What nonsense is that brat spouting?"

"The sea's calm. Where would a storm come from?"

"We're not even done with that bald guy's business, and now there's another one."

Gon climbed down from the lookout platform and entered the cabin. Two people inside were arguing.

One was a blond youth leaning against a pillar, arms folded, his tone cold.

"A person's character cannot be bought with money."

Opposite him stood a tall man in sunglasses, wearing a suit with his tie hanging loose.

"Without money, you can't do anything!"

Their argument grew fiercer. The blond youth's expression did not change, while the man in sunglasses turned red in the face.

Gon walked over. "Stop arguing. A storm is coming."

They both looked at him. "What storm?"

Outside the cabin, the sky abruptly darkened.

Rain poured down in sheets.

The ship rocked violently. Every examinee in the cabin was thrown this way and that; some vomited, while others collapsed.

Gon did not remain in the cabin. He ran to the very front of the deck, spread his arms against the howling wind and rain, and grinned brightly.

"What a strong wind!"

Rain lashed his face, but he did not care at all.

He had not been standing there long when he caught sight of an examinee being flung into the air by a huge wave. The man clawed wildly at the air as he flew toward the side of the ship.

Gon rushed over, grabbed the man's ankle, and forcibly pulled him back. The examinee crashed onto the deck, his face deathly pale, unable even to say thank you.

Gon had already run off.

He spotted another examinee clutching a pillar, his hands slowly slipping loose. Gon rushed over, supported his shoulder, dragged him to the cabin door, and shoved him inside.

Throughout the storm, he kept running back and forth across the deck. He helped fallen people to safety, dragged those who could not hold onto anything into the cabin, and carried those who had vomited too much to stand into a corner.

Rain blurred his vision. He wiped his face with one hand and kept running.

Kurapika leaned against the cabin door with his arms folded. His blond hair had been blown into disarray, but his expression remained calm, and his body barely swayed. His gaze followed Gon's figure the entire time without shifting.

Leorio gripped the railing tightly with both hands, his expression pained and his face pale. His sunglasses sat crookedly, and his tie had flown over one shoulder.

"That kid Gon... why does he keep running around..."

He could barely stay on his feet himself, let alone help anyone.

The examinees inside the cabin watched through the windows. Most had vomited themselves senseless, and the few still conscious kept their eyes on Gon as he ran back and forth.

No one looked at Saitama.

Saitama stood by the railing. No matter how violently the ship rocked, he did not move an inch.

Rain hammered against him, soaking his clean T-shirt instantly and plastering it to his back.

He looked down at his drenched T-shirt.

[Inner thought: It got wet after all.]

The vein on his forehead appeared again, a full size larger than before.

He had not moved a single step the entire time.

Gon ran past him three times. The first time, he was dragging a seasick examinee. The second time, he was supporting someone whose legs had gone weak. The third time, he was carrying a burly man taller than himself.

Each time he passed, Gon shouted, "Big Brother Saitama! You're still not taking shelter?"

Saitama ignored him.

The third time Gon passed, Saitama glanced at him. The kid was soaked through, his hair plastered to his forehead, his face covered in rainwater, yet he was still smiling.

The vein on Saitama's forehead shrank a little.

The wind died down, and the rain stopped.

People lay sprawled all across the deck. The cabin was no better. Vomit, seawater, broken planks—it was a complete mess.

Gon finally stopped. He stood in the middle of the deck with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. Then he straightened up, wiped the water from his face, and smiled again.

"It's over!"

In front of the television, Genos stared at the screen.

Storm. Gon ran across the deck throughout the entire storm. Number of examinees rescued: seven. This included the person who had jeered and insulted the teacher the loudest earlier. Rescue methods: grabbed one person by the ankle and dragged him back, supported two by the shoulder and escorted them into the cabin, carried four into the cabin. Total running distance: 427 meters. Calories expended: impossible to measure precisely. Expression: smiling throughout.

Kurapika leaned motionlessly by the door. Leorio clutched the railing, his face pale. Neither of them helped.

Teacher stood by the railing without moving an inch. He predicted he would get soaked 3 minutes and 17 seconds in advance, then made the decision not to take shelter. He showed no signs of regret throughout the entire process.

This was where Teacher's strength lay. Once he made a decision, he would never waver in the slightest.

Genos immediately added another line to his notebook.

Gon ran past him three times, shouting, "Big Brother Saitama, you're still not taking shelter?" each time. Teacher ignored him. The third time, Teacher glanced at Gon, and one finger twitched. Movement range: 0.3 centimeters. Duration: 0.1 seconds. No one noticed. Then the vein on his forehead shrank a little.

Genos paused the screen and enlarged it frame by frame.

The vein had indeed shrunk a little. It had not vanished completely; it had gone from "moderate" to "slight."

Teacher's tolerance for children was indeed high. Gon ran about in the storm rescuing people, while Teacher only cared that his clothes had gotten wet. But Gon shouted at him every time he passed, and by the third time, the vein on Teacher's forehead had shrunk.

He was not moved by Gon's actions.

Gon's persistence had simply worn down his temper.

Like knocking on a rock's door over and over. By the third knock, the rock still would not open the door, but it would stop frowning.

I used to knock on Teacher's door like that too.

Teacher was the same way.

He would not open the door.

But he would stop frowning.

Genos wrote the above in his notebook.

Then he casually took a potato chip.

Conclusion: Teacher cannot remain dissatisfied with persistent goodwill for long. But only when it comes from children.

Additional prediction: If Leorio ran past Teacher three times and shouted, "Big Brother Saitama, you're still not taking shelter?" the vein on Teacher's forehead would grow larger. Prediction accuracy: 99.7%.

Remaining potato chips: more than half a bag of seaweed flavor.