Immortal Champion's Will

[Warning: The opponent released all his Nen energy before dying—Post-Mortem Nen activated.]

["Immortal Champion's Will": The Nen construct anchors itself to the audience's memories of the host. As long as the memories remain, the Nen will not disperse.]

[Nen construct strength—higher than in life. Estimated combat level: God-class.]

Saitama straightened up.

The dark golden motes that had been dispersing across the arena suddenly gathered again—it was Nen. Post-Mortem Nen. Every mote was a fragment of Tyson's lingering resentment left on the arena floor, drawn together, collected, and woven by an invisible will.

Dark green light seeped from the center of the motes, intertwining with the dark golden energy remnants and condensing into a spinning sphere of light at the center of the arena.

Tyson's voice came from within the sphere—hollow and deep, as though it came from the depths of the earth. Every word carried the cold echo unique to Post-Mortem Nen.

"My name is Tyson. Former world heavyweight champion."

Saitama rolled his right shoulder.

He had never seen anything like Post-Mortem Nen. But he knew one thing: if it could come back once, he could smash it a second time.

He stepped forward.

The dark green sphere of light spun faster and faster above the arena.

Tyson's physical body had completely vanished.

Using the shell fragments as an anchor.

That sphere of light continued spinning madly.

The dark golden energy remnants were sucked into its core, intertwining with fragments of dark green Nen energy.

At the center of the arena, they condensed into a spinning cocoon of light.

Tyson's hollow, low voice emerged from within the cocoon.

It sounded as though it came from an abyss beneath the earth, every word carrying the icy echo of Post-Mortem Nen.

"My name is Tyson. Former world heavyweight champion, three-gene chimera."

"On this arena, I am invincible."

Someone in the audience subconsciously shouted his name.

It was not mockery.

It was absolute terror.

Fear was remembrance.

His Nen fed on fear, anchoring itself to the audience's memories of him.

From the far shore of death, it forcibly dragged itself back.

Saitama stood where he was, his right fist still held in the posture of the Serious Punch he had thrown.

The dark golden residue on his knuckles was being drawn away bit by bit by the cocoon of light.

He looked down at his fist, then at the cocoon taking shape.

"Post-Mortem Nen? You can still crawl back up and fight after dying?"

A cold piece of information surfaced in his mind.

This Post-Mortem Nen was called Immortal Champion's Will.

It anchored itself to the audience's memories of Tyson. As long as those memories remained, the Nen would not disperse.

The Nen construct's strength far surpassed what it had been in life.

And it was unaffected by conventional physical attacks.

It was pure Nen. Ordinary fists could not disperse it at all.

The thought had barely settled.

The cocoon of light burst open.

Tyson stepped out.

It was neither regeneration nor reconstruction.

His body was woven from dark green Nen energy, with dark golden energy patterns flowing across its surface.

There was no shell, no four arms, no compound eyes.

He looked like nothing more than a translucent human silhouette.

At the center of his chest floated a spinning dark green core.

Dark golden energy fluid slowly flowed through its veins.

Every time the core made a turn, the terror in the audience deepened.

Fear was his strongest fuel.

"Right now, I am more than a whole level stronger than before."

"You shattered my body, but you cannot shatter the audience's memories of me."

"As long as they remember me, my Nen will never disperse."

He raised a hand, spreading his five fingers, his palm aimed at the audience.

Dark green Nen threads shot from his fingertips.

They did not attack Saitama. Instead, they pierced through the audience's protective barrier.

Like a massive net, they spread over everyone's heads.

Every thread connected to a spectator's memories.

Some remembered the terror of his transformation. Others silently recited his name.

"They are remembering me."

"Every second of fear makes my Nen stronger."

Saitama looked at the Nen net and tilted his head.

"So if no one remembers you, you'll disappear?"

"Theoretically. But no one can control another person's memories."

"I don't need to control their memories."

Saitama took a step forward and slowly clenched his right fist.

"I just need to beat you until nobody can bear to look at you again."

An overwhelmingly serious presence erupted from within him.

It was not Nen. It was not aura.

It was the purest, most unanswerable power.

Rubble rose from the ground, and the air gave off a deep hum.

He threw the punch.

His fist went straight through Tyson's translucent body.

The dark green core shuddered violently, and a nearly imperceptible crack appeared across its surface.

Tyson looked down at the crack in his chest, and ripples finally entered his hollow voice.

"Your fist... can touch a Nen construct?"

"Yep."

"When I fought Boros before, I could touch his energy core too."

"Yours is about the same, just a different color."

Saitama pulled back his fist, preparing to strike again.

Tyson suddenly exploded.

Countless Nen threads became raging serpents, instantly wrapping around Saitama's entire body.

It was not an attack.

It was memory.

Every thread poured images into Saitama's mind.

A young boy putting on boxing gloves for the first time.

The arena lights converging on him when he won the championship.

Black market dealers tying him to an iron chair and forcibly injecting him with three kinds of genes.

The burning pain as his shell pierced through his skin, his cells resonating wildly inside his body.

"You think you're a hero?"

Countless voices exploded inside Saitama's mind.

"You think you're protecting the audience?"

"I was once a champion too! I climbed to the top with my fists!"

"Now I'm a monster in their eyes!"

"When you lose, when you become a monster, let's see whether your friends still recognize you!"

Saitama fell silent for a moment, then slowly raised his head.

His voice was flat, as though he were discussing the price of eggs.

"Are you done?"

"You used to be a boxing champion. Good for you."

"Then you became a monster. That sucks."

"But that's your problem."

"Don't use it to scare my friends."

As his words fell, the Nen threads around Saitama snapped apart inch by inch.

He lowered his body slightly and clenched his right fist again.

The compressed air boomed, and all five layers of the arena's protective glow lit up at once.

Shockwaves sent ripples across the audience's protective barrier.

The Nen net overhead shook violently, its threads snapping one after another.

"Consecutive Serious Punches."

The first punch.

It slammed into the dark green core.

One crack became three, and dark golden energy fluid seeped from the gaps.

Motes of light drifted into the audience's minds, quietly soothing their fear.

Some remembered that he had once been a brilliant boxing champion.

They were no longer afraid, and began to forget.

The second punch.

It pierced directly through the core.

The force of the punch exploded from within.

Every crack shattered at once.

The dark green Nen construct began to collapse from its chest.

Its fragments became wisps of smoke, scattered by the punch's wind.

The third punch.

It fell.

No one in the audience remembered the terror of Tyson's transformation anymore.

They remembered only that bald man.

One punch, crushing everything.

Saitama withdrew his fist and straightened up.

The arena was empty, with only golden halos slowly circulating through the air.

The Auto-Repair System was mending the cracks in the floor tiles.

He glanced at his knuckles and flicked away the last trace of dark green residue.

"Post-Mortem Nen, the so-called immortal champion's will."

"A champion is only a champion while he's alive."

"Once he's dead, he isn't."

He rolled his right shoulder and walked toward the edge of the arena.

He bent down, picked up the plastic bag, and checked it over.

It was completely intact.

He straightened up and looked at the dazed crowd in the audience.

"He was right."

"If you forget him, he'll really be gone."

The audience fell completely silent.

Boros's single eye shone like a star. After a long silence, he slowly spoke.

"That was not Consecutive Normal Punches. It was Consecutive Serious Punches."

"Every punch was a blow capable of erasing existence."

Saitama entered the elevator and pressed the button for the 110th floor.

The elevator doors slowly closed, and the numbers rapidly climbed upward.

He rubbed his bald head.

Hair was still a long way off.

But every punch was getting stronger.

That was enough.

On the arena, the last wisp of dark green Nen residue was swallowed by the repair system.

It became nourishment, allowing the God-class arena to continue upgrading upward.