The Bald Man's Punch: An Effortless End

Saitama stepped forward.

He still wore his yellow suit and white cape, his bald head gleaming in the sunlight.

He yawned, looking half asleep, as though the one-sided slaughter he'd just watched had been nothing more than a boring show.

The Calamity Progeny froze.

Its eight tentacles hung in midair, slowly turning toward the bald man who had suddenly appeared.

No trace of Nen.

No energy signature.

Not even the presence of a powerful fighter.

He seemed as ordinary as any passerby.

Yet the progeny's body tensed on instinct.

It was the wariness etched into a predator's genes when it faced something higher on the food chain.

"Hiss—"

The progeny let out a shrill screech.

The next instant, its eight tentacles shot out together, stabbing at Saitama from eight directions.

They moved so fast they left only afterimages.

At least twice as fast as when it had attacked the five of them.

The jaws at the tentacles' tips opened, their fangs gleaming with black venom.

It had thrown everything into this strike.

Saitama stood where he was, unmoving.

He watched the eight tentacles close in.

Then—

He raised his right hand.

A casual punch.

No windup, no Nen, not even a rush of air.

As if he were swatting a mosquito.

Thud.

His fist struck the leading tentacle.

Then the force traveled down it.

The sounds of shattering ran together.

All eight tentacles and the progeny's entire upper body burst apart in an instant, like a watermelon struck by a sledgehammer.

Black fluid, mangled flesh, and fragments of tentacle sprayed in every direction.

The Calamity Progeny didn't even manage a scream.

Its lower half swayed, toppled to the ground with a thump, twitched twice, and went still.

The air fell silent.

The wind stopped.

That suffocating chill vanished without a