KING's Dinner

After KING admitted defeat, the entire arena erupted in deafening cheers.

"KING-sama deliberately let him win! That's the magnanimity of the strong!"

"The strongest on Earth—truly deserving of the name!"

KING stood where he was, maintaining that icy wave. His face still wore the unruffled expression of an emperor.

One second.

Two seconds.

Five seconds.

Ten seconds.

The system's teleportation light still hadn't come on.

The cheers throughout the arena continued, growing louder and more frenzied.

KING's smile froze on his face.

??? Why hasn't it teleported me away yet?!

System, what are you doing?! I admitted defeat, so why won't you let me leave?!

I'm done for! What if someone rushes over to take a picture with me? What if some shortsighted contestant jumps out and challenges me?!

Stop cheering, stop cheering! The louder you get, the more panicked I become! My legs are already shaking!

If I stay here any longer, I'll be exposed! My heartbeat is almost louder than the audience!

On the surface, he still stood perfectly straight, but his back was once again drenched in cold sweat. His hand, tucked into his trench-coat pocket, gripped the game controller so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.

His gaze swept across the crowd and happened to collide with Saitama, who was preparing to enter the elevator.

Saitama glanced back at him.

Saitama: "Hey, want to eat?"

KING: "Huh?"

Saitama: "I just bought instant noodles with a coupon. Two cups, plus one sausage."

KING: "...Oh. Sure."

He practically strode away at once, heading toward the elevator without looking back and completely ignoring the audience's frenzied cheers.

Room 2159.

It was a standard Heaven's Arena guest room, pitifully small. Saitama's luggage consisted of a single backpack stuffed with several yellow T-shirts and a stack of supermarket discount flyers.