Royal Capital - Festival Grounds
Time: The Big Day
The Capital smelled like fried dough, magic sparkles, and desperation.
It was the Star Awards Festival. The one day a year where Magic Knights pretended to like civilians, and Captains pretended not to be hungover. Bunting hung from every spire. Confetti rained from the sky (courtesy of some poor wind mages working overtime).
"It's loud," Saitama noted.
He was standing in the middle of the plaza, wearing his yellow suit (patched up by Vanessa again, now with a cute little flower stitched over a tear on the knee). He looked miserable.
"Master," Genos said, scanning the crowd. "This crowd density is inefficient for traversal. Analysis indicates 45% of these vendors are selling overpriced meat-on-a-stick. Shall I clear a path using Intimidation Mode?"
"No," Saitama said. "And stop vibrating. You're scaring the kids."
"I am merely anticipating an ambush," Genos said. "King Augustus has been staring at you from the Royal Balcony for forty minutes."
Saitama looked up. Way up high, on the fancy VIP balcony, King Augustus was indeed staring. The King squinted through opera glasses, saw Saitama looking, and immediately hid behind a curtain.
"He's still mad about the nose thing," Saitama sighed. "Some people can't take a joke."
"IT'S THE BLACK BULLS!"
The crowd parted. Asta was running down the street, waving like a maniac. He had glitter in his hair. He looked like a disco ball on caffeine.
"MASTER SAITAMA! GENOS!" Asta skidded to a stop, beaming. "Can you believe it? The rankings are about to be announced! We actually have a shot this year! We didn't destroy too much of the city!"
"We dropped a zombie tank into the ocean," Saitama reminded him.
"That was offshore!" Asta argued. "Environmental damage doesn't count!"
Noelle walked up behind him, flicking her hair. "Hmph. Don't get your hopes up, Bakasta. We're still the Black Bulls. Being second-to-last would be a miracle."
"Where's Yami?" Saitama asked, looking around for the only person he actually tolerated.
"Captain Yami is 'meditating' in a portable toilet," Finral whispered. "He said if they call his name, I should drag a cardboard cutout of him onto the stage."
The Main Stage - The Ceremony
Trumpets blared. Magic fireworks exploded into shapes of lions and eagles.
Julius Novachrono descended from the sky. The crowd roared. He had that rockstar energy, waving and smiling, his red robe flowing.
"Citizens of the Clover Kingdom!" Julius's voice was magically amplified. "This year has been... eventful! Invasions! New threats! And balder heroes!"
A few people laughed. Saitama touched his head self-consciously.
"Let's announce the Squad Rankings!"
Julius waved his hand. A massive scoreboard of light materialized.
3rd Place: Crimson Lion Kings (Fuegoleon nodded solemnly).
2nd Place...
The crowd held its breath. Usually, this was the Silver Eagles.
...THE BLACK BULLS!
Silence.
Then, absolute bedlam.
"EH?!" Magna choked on his drink. "US? SECOND?"
"It can't be!" Noelle gasped. "We're trash! Royal trash, but trash!"
Julius grinned. "For their valiant efforts in Kiten, the defense of the Capital, and the unprecedented defeat of a Supreme Devil threat (pending classification), the Black Bulls are awarded 105 stars!"
Yuno, standing with the Golden Dawn, smirked. Just a tiny lift of the corner of his mouth.
"And in 1st Place..." Julius announced. "The Golden Dawn!"
Cheers erupted. Yuno stepped forward, looking cool as ice, while Captain William Vangeance smiled beneath his mask.
"Wait," Saitama whispered to Genos. "The Golden guys won? Didn't we punch a god?"
"The scoring system is biased against unregistered freelancers," Genos explained, his mechanical eyes narrowing. "Also, King Augustus personally deducted 50 stars from you for 'Excessive Baldness and Nose-Flicking'."
"That petty little..." Saitama grumbled.
Then, the mic cut out.
Skreeeee.
King Augustus floated down. He looked majestic, if you ignored the Band-Aid on his nose.
"Citizens!" The King preened. "While the squads did... adequate work... I, your King, have decided to host a special event! A display of TRUE power!"
The King pointed a trembling finger at Saitama.
"The Great Royal Eating Contest!" Augustus declared. "I hear this bald commoner claims to have a stomach of iron. Let us test that against the Royal Larder!"
Saitama stopped frowning. His ears perked up.
"Did he say eating contest?"
Genos assessed. "Master, it is a trap. He intends to humiliate you with gluttony."
Saitama tightened his belt. "Genos, hold my cape. This is the fight I was born for."
The Contest Stage
Event: The Gluttony Bowl
The setup was simple. A long table. Piles of food that defied physics.
Contestant 1: Charmy Pappitson. She was already vibrating, fork and knife in hand. Her sheep cooks were massaging her shoulders.
Contestant 2: A large noble named "Baron Gorge." He looked like a circle with legs.
Contestant 3: Saitama.
Contestant 4: Yuno (Forced to participate by his Captain for "public relations"). He looked dead inside.
"The rules are simple!" The King shouted from a safe distance. "Eat everything! The winner gets a year's supply of premium beef! The loser... gets deported!"
"Deported?" Asta yelled from the sidelines. "That seems extreme!"
"START!"
It began.
Charmy didn't eat. She inhaled. She unhinged her jaw like a snake. "NOM NOM NOM! MEAT! SWEETS! POWER!"
Cotton magic sheep fed her at conveyor-belt speeds.
Baron Gorge was struggling on the first turkey.
Yuno was eating elegantly with a knife and fork, cutting tiny pieces. He looked miserable.
And Saitama?
Saitama wasn't using magic. He was using Serious Table Manners.
Swipe. Swallow. Swipe. Swallow.
His arm was a blur. The food vanished. Chicken? Bones included. Lobster? Shell and all. Pineapple? Spiky skin consumed.
"Impossible!" Baron Gorge gagged, watching Saitama eat a whole decorative watermelon in one bite. "Where does it go?!"
Genos stood by the judges' table with a scorecard. "Master possesses a metabolism capable of breaking down matter at the sub-atomic level. A lobster shell offers no resistance to his gastric acids."
"That's just terrifying!" Finral cried.
Charmy paused. She looked at Saitama's pile. It was gone.
He was reaching for her pile.
"Charming?" She gasped. Her eyes turned into frantic spirals. "You steal my noms? YOU STEAL MY NOMS?!"
Mana flared. Charmy transformed. She wasn't a small girl anymore. She grew into her "Adult Mode"—the tall, beautiful, magic-overflowing form. A giant wolf made of cotton manifested behind her.
"FOOD WARS!" Charmy roared. The Wolf lunged at Saitama's plate.
Saitama slapped the Wolf's snout.
"Bad dog," he mumbled, mouth full of pie. "Get your own."
He ate the Wolf.
Well, he ate the cotton magic representing the Wolf's head which was currently wrapped around a ham.
Charmy froze. "He... he ate the spell?"
Julius, watching from the VIP box, dropped his monocle. "He can consume magical constructs? Is his stomach a portal to a dimension of hunger?"
King Augustus slammed his fist on the railing. "Why won't he explode?! That's forty pounds of lasagna!"
"Finished," Saitama slammed his plate down. The table cracked.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Is there dessert?"
A silence fell over the festival.
Yuno poked a single pea with his fork. "I concede."
"WINNER!" Julius declared, laughing hysterically. "SAITAMA!"
The Popularity Poll Result
An hour later, the voting booths closed.
They projected the results of the "Favorite Knight" poll onto the castle walls.
1. Yuno (Pretty privilege).
2. Asta (People loved the shouting anti-magic kid).
3. Charlotte Roselei.
...
Rank 4,502: Saitama.
(Votes: 1. Reason: "He scared my cat.")
"One vote?" Saitama stared at the board. The wind blew his cape. It was a tragic scene. "I saved the city. I flipped a tank. I won the eating contest."
"The vote was from Gordon," Genos reported gently. "He wrote an essay on your friendship."
"Who's Gordon?"
"The one who mumbles in the corner, Master."
"Oh. Nice guy."
Asta slapped Saitama on the back, nearly dislocating his own shoulder on Saitama's density. "Don't worry, Master Saitama! Being unpopular is part of the journey! Look at me! Half the kingdom still thinks I'm a demon!"
"You literally turn into a demon, Asta," Saitama pointed out.
"DETAILS!"
Yuno walked over. He handed Saitama a voucher.
"Here," Yuno said, cool as ever.
"What's this?"
"My prize for the eating contest participation. A coupon for 'discounted repairs' at the spell-tailor." Yuno glanced at Saitama's tattered suit. "You need it more than I do."
Saitama's eyes went anime-sparkly. "You... you're a good guy, wind-boy."
Yuno smirked and walked away. "Don't get used to it. I'm still going to be Wizard King."
Saitama looked at Asta. "Why is everyone so obsessed with being King? The chair looks uncomfortable."
"IT'S ABOUT RESPECT!" Asta yelled.
"Right. Loud."
The Afterparty - The Pub
The festival ended as all Clover festivals did: with a massive bar fight.
Yami was arm-wrestling Jack the Ripper (and winning). Vanessa was trying to strip. Magna and Luck were destroying the furniture.
Saitama sat at the bar, nursing a glass of juice. He was holding the beef certificate tightly.
Genos was hooked up to the pub's lantern supply, recharging.
"Peaceful," Saitama said.
Suddenly, the door swung open.
A man stumbled in. He wore the robes of the Underwater Temple. He was soaking wet and bleeding.
"Help..." the man rasped. "The beach... the sea... it's..."
Yami dropped Jack's hand (smashing the table). "High Priest? What the hell happened?"
The man looked up, eyes wide with terror.
"The beast... Vetto... came back. But... not alone."
The pub went silent. Vetto? The despair beast? The Black Bulls had barely beaten him last time.
"He brought... a King," the priest coughed. "From the deep. A King in a trench coat... with green skin..."
Saitama stopped drinking. The glass paused halfway to his lips.
Green skin. Trench coat. King of the sea.
A memory surfaced. Rain. A bicycle. A hero named Mumen Rider getting smashed into the pavement.
Genos unplugged himself. His eyes shifted from blue to Combat Red.
"Master," Genos said, voice dropping an octave. "Description matches Threat Level: Demon. Entity: Deep Sea King."
Saitama set the glass down. The glass shattered.
The comedy of the eating contest evaporated. The goofy face was gone.
"That fish guy is here?" Saitama stood up. The wooden stool disintegrated under his movement.
"Hey, Yami," Saitama said. "How far is the beach?"
Yami stood up, sensing the shift in Ki. This wasn't 'Bored Saitama'. This was something else.
"Finral!" Yami barked. "Sober up! Portal! We're going swimming."
Saitama clenched his fist. The air in the pub twisted.
"I have a score to settle," Saitama said. "He owes me a dry cleaning bill."
Asta drew his sword. "Is he strong?"
"Yeah," Saitama said, walking to the door. "He actually hits back."
The Cliffhanger
Location: Raquey Coastal Beach
The ocean was red.
Not from algae. From blood.
Standing on a pile of defeated Underwater Temple monks was a creature. Massive. Green. Muscular. Wearing a crown and heart-shaped nipple pasties.
Deep Sea King smiled, his razor teeth glistening.
Next to him stood Vetto, the Beast of the Midnight Sun. Vetto looked... afraid.
"I like this world," Deep Sea King gurgled, crushing a stone pillar with one hand. "The magic... it makes the rain taste... spicy."
He looked at the shoreline.
"Now... where is the resistance? I'm getting dry."