Two Ingredients × Genos Goes Shopping

Another boar charged out.

It was a little smaller than the last one, limping as it ran, with a slight limp in its left forehoof. It crashed through the bushes and barreled right up to Saitama's feet, nearly stomping on his heel.

Saitama looked down at it. Small, mediocre quality, and lame besides. It was just right for eating himself; the examiners wouldn't be giving him any anyway.

"Perfect. One for myself, one to turn in," he muttered. "If I mess up the roast, I can submit the little one. I'll keep the big one."

He reached out and pinned down the second boar as well.

Its four hooves scrabbled twice against the ground before it gave up struggling completely. Its tail flicked, slapping the mud. Saitama tied it up with another vine, using the exact same motions—fold the hoof, loop it around, tie the knot. Easy.

All the nearby examinees stopped what they were doing.

"He caught two?"

"One person caught two?"

"We're having a hard enough time catching half of one."

Riding on a boar's back, Gon called out, "Saitama! Why did you catch two?"

"In case I ruin the first one. Gotta have a backup."

Gon tilted his head and thought about it. Finding no flaw in the logic, he grinned. "That's so smart!"

Killua leaned against a tree, spinning a kunai in his hand as he frowned at Saitama's back. That huge boar weighed several hundred kilos at least, yet the bald guy carried it one-handed while holding another boar under the same arm. His breathing had not changed once along the way.

"What's smart about that?" Killua muttered. "There's seriously something wrong with this guy."

Saitama emerged from the edge of the forest, carrying a boar under each arm as he headed for the exam site.

Menchi was still standing there with her arms folded. Her gaze swept from the first boar to the second, lingering for two seconds on Saitama's utterly steady arm. As Saitama walked past her, Menchi turned her neck to follow him.

"The rules didn't say I couldn't catch two."

The examiner did not answer.

Saitama reached the grilling area and set both boars on the ground. The big one went on the left side of the grill, the small one on the right. He crouched down to check whether the vines had come loose—the big boar's left forehoof was tied with a slipknot, so he straightened it out and tightened it again. Everything was secure.

He stood and dusted off his hands. The two boars lay side by side at his feet like meat on a supermarket shelf, waiting to be checked out. Flames danced in the grill, and the firewood crackled softly.

From afar, Buhara stared at the two boars and licked his lips.

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

His teacher had caught two boars. Throughout the entire process, he had done only two things—reached out, then tied vines. The way he wrapped those vines was exactly the same as when his teacher had tied up plastic bags while buying discounted beef at the supermarket last week.

Conclusion: when allocating ingredients, his teacher prioritized his own share over the examiner's. This matched his teacher's usual behavior when buying eggs on sale—secure his own portion first, then consider what to submit.

He glanced at the darkening sky outside, stood up, walked into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator.

Half a cabbage, a small piece of tofu, and two wilted scallions. Only one egg remained in the carton.

Three days ago, his teacher had stood before the empty refrigerator for a minute before finally saying, "Let's eat out." That meal had cost 3,200 yen. If there had been ingredients in the fridge, that money could have bought two cartons of eggs and three bunches of scallions.

He picked up a shopping bag and left.

The supermarket was closing in twenty minutes. He headed straight for the meat section. Several packs of discounted pork sat on the sale rack; he picked one up, examined it, then put it back—it was too thin for tonkatsu. His teacher had said last week that he wanted tonkatsu. This was his teacher's highest praise for any dish.

He moved to the butcher counter, shifting his gaze three times between wagyu and imported beef shank. The last time his teacher had eaten wagyu was at a hotpot meal two weeks before being transported here. He had eaten two bowls of rice that time, one more than usual.

He picked up premium wagyu and put it into his basket. Then he took two cartons of eggs, a bunch of scallions, and a cabbage. Passing the condiment aisle, he grabbed a bottle of medium-thick tonkatsu sauce without sweeteners—he had bought the wrong flavor last time, and his teacher had said, "Genos, this isn't right."

After paying, he carried the shopping bag home. The evening breeze was cool, and the plastic bag swayed gently in his hand. When his teacher came back, there would be wagyu, eggs, and cabbage in the refrigerator. He could make tonkatsu, egg drop soup, and cold dressed cabbage. There would be no need to spend 3,200 yen.

When he reached the apartment building and rounded the vending machine, someone stood by the entrance. Green long dress, high heels, arms crossed. Hellish Blizzard.

"Good evening." She raised her chin. "I came all this way to thank you for what happened last time."

Genos remembered—three days ago, she had been surrounded by monsters during a mission. He had happened to pass by while buying soy sauce and dealt with them. He had pulled two Blizzard Group members from the rubble and incinerated the remaining monsters completely.

"You're welcome." He squeezed past her sideways, took out his key, opened the door, placed the shopping bag on the shoe cabinet in the entryway, then turned and blocked the doorway. "Master Saitama is busy."

"He's home?"

"He's on television. Master is taking the Hunter Exam. He's currently in the second test and has caught two Great-Nosed Wild Boars."

"...What?"

"Please leave." He started to close the door.

"Wait—" Blizzard pressed a hand against the door. "I came all this way, and you're just going to make me stand in the doorway?"

"Master isn't home. It would be inconvenient to let you inside."

"You just said he's on television!"

"Being on television still counts as being busy."

A vein popped on Blizzard's forehead. "I came to thank him. At least let me finish what I came to say."

"You already gave your thanks."

"I haven't said the specifics yet!" She took a deep breath. "I brought a cake—"

"No need. There's premium wagyu in the refrigerator. Master doesn't like cake."

Blizzard fell silent for two seconds. "Then what do you want? You're really going to leave me standing in the hallway?"

"When Master isn't here, I do not have the authority to let anyone into the apartment." He pushed the door closer, nearly catching her fingers. Blizzard jerked her hand back.

"You—"

"The wagyu in the refrigerator needs to stay cold."

Blizzard's lips moved twice. Finally, she shoved the gift into his hands. "Take it. Do whatever you want with it."

Genos looked down. Limited-edition cheesecake. Like the strawberry cake last time, it would last three days.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Blizzard turned around, the sound of her heels echoing through the hallway. After taking a few steps, she stopped and looked back at the door, which had already closed.

Genos placed the cake on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator—his teacher did not eat sweets, so he would save it for his own breakfast tomorrow. Then he arranged the wagyu and cabbage, placed the eggs one by one into the egg holder, and set the scallions in a cup of water. When the refrigerator door closed, every ingredient was in its proper place.

He returned to the sofa. On television, his teacher was placing two boars side by side beside the grill, the big one on the left and the small one on the right. The flames danced, and the firewood crackled.

Genos opened a bag of chips. There was wagyu in the refrigerator and his teacher on television. Everything was normal.

Crunch.