I don't own One-Punch Man
(All of this Belongs to the one and only: ONE)
Chapter 3: The Champion's Preparation
A Champion's Challenge
Saitama's Training: 1 Week in progress...
Speed
A concept that Saitama made sure to beat himself into when he was on his training regiment, "For he who strikes first, falls last", Or that was what he read in a book somewhere. So many nights without AC, so many kilometers ran, so many, so many… Countless times he wanted to give in to the exhaustion, to say, "Maybe I'll take today off…", or having thoughts of, "Someone else" will do this, and that he didn't need to do something so hard for the benefit of others. But every time he was on the verge of throwing in the towel, that damn dream played, and it was the driving force for his dedication. He wasn't about to let those events transpire again, not by any means whatsoever. So even as his hair fell out, he still kept up the regiment, and by the end of it, he became so much stronger for it. He was happy in the beginning, but as time went on, he realized how much stronger he really was from everyone… And he wishes he could take it back, every single day on that damn regiment.
But not anymore, as we see Saitama destroying the 100th piece of training/warehouse equipment in his designated training spot. His spot for "training" was an abandoned warehouse, full thanks to the Hero Organization. But Saitama was too excited to even care where his training was, he simply took up the place as if it were any other to work out in. The warehouse was full of industrial machinery, and large shipping crates full of outdated products, perfect targets for throwing punches and kicks. He just couldn't help himself, he had to throw a punch at something, otherwise, he would go mad with all the pent up emotions he had in him.
So he punched the first thing he saw… Which was one of the many walls of the warehouse. The wall didn't stand a chance, as a huge cloud of smoke and debris flew outside of the warehouse. What came from the cloud was a huge hole, which was now visible in its interior. Saitama wasn't satisfied at all with that punch, even though such an impressive hole was present… So he threw even more punches at the wall, even a couple of kicks, until he felt the need to stop, Which was fortunate, since what used to be a wall, now stood a pile of crumbled brick and cement. This was enough to end Saitama's excitement high, so he sat down on the pile he just made.
He couldn't help it, he was just so pumped that the big event was one week away, and that he couldn't contain his excitement, even by a little bit. Sure, the punches and kicks he just threw at the wall were ones that weren't serious by any means, hell, if he was being honest, to call those punches and kicks a joke was still "too" serious a word to describe them. But it was a way to vent out some pent up excitement.
Out of nowhere, a voice with a with a distinct Boston accent started to fill the warehouse, which would have to a big one, considering this warehouse was several stories tall.
"Ey, Boss, slow down will ya! Shit… At the rate you're going at, we ain't gonna have a place to train in!" Yelled Saitama's assistant, who was crouching behind a few stray shipping crates.
"Oh, my bad Styles, didn't realize you came back from the Organization so soon. I was just throwing a few punches in the wind." Saitama said sheepishly, as he looked at the holes he created at the walls of the warehouse.
Styles stepped away from the crates when Saitama stopped throwing punches, revealing himself to him. Styles was a character indeed, In his mid twenties, he was sporting a dark red beanie, and wearing his signature red bubble vest, and black joggers. The dog tags around his neck jingled as he walked over to Saitama, proof that he was in the army prior, and that he had little time for shit. He was built like Saitama, but a tad bit shorter, and Styles was known to have a mouth. Whether its for a friend, or to a foe, no one could get away from it, even a few people in the Organization can attest to that.
"Well, Boss, I can't just ask the Organization for more things for ya to punch, if you go and break the damn things before I even get here. Jesus, Boss, at least give them the time to make a visible impression on the floor, will ya? As a matter of fact... D-didn't I just bring in a huge, metal, punching stand yesterday? Where the hell did it go?!" Styles shouted as he frantically searched the area for the huge punching stand.
It was then Styles walked over something that made a "Tink" sound. As his shoes hit the metallic material underneath, a horrid realization kicked in. Styles was afraid of looking down, but he had to, he needed to know where that stand was. As he looked down, Styles could only look in pure horror, as the once, huge, metal punching stand, which used to stand a whooping 20ft in the air, was now looking more like a rug for the floor of the warehouse. Oddly enough, it matched the color scheme of the floor, if Styles had to comment…
"B-boss, you didn-Didn't just slug this punching stand into a pancake, D-didja?" Styles said meekly, hoping that the thing he was currently standing on, wasn't the stand, but some sort of machinery equipment Saitama broke.
"Oh, that stand-thing over there? I simply threw a punch from above as I was training my aerial attacks. Gotta say, I thought that thing would at least stand up for few seconds when I punched it, but nah, it simply folded itself like paper. Sucks too, I was planning on using it for a few more punches." Saitama said, as he posed himself in a very lame ninja stance.
Styles's mouth unhinged itself, hitting the floor with a defeated thud. To think that a stand of that size, just "folded" in on itself from a punch. Styles quickly rolled up his mouth, and began pacing over the flatten stand. He was pissed, since he knew that piece of equipment was one that the Organization liked, while knowing also, that "Metal Knight" was the one who built it. He would now have to explain to both "Metal Knight" and the Organization, of why such a highly regarded piece of equipment, was now a decent looking rug. He was also sure that this incident would deduct his pay in a way, which got him even more pissed off.
"Damnit Boss, Whyja go and make my job harder? It's tough enough as it is to look at these Organization goons, let alone talk with'em. Now, I gotta go blab to "Metal Knight" about his stupid toy!" Styles thought in his head, sighing deeply.
Styles looked over to Saitama's way, which he found Saitama still doing lame ninja poses. Styles could only look at Saitama, dumbfounded. It was hard to believe that this weeny could break something so large with a single punch, not to mention, breaking several other pieces of equipment and the walls of this damn place, as the week progressed… But here he was, trying find things for Saitama to punch, and all he could do was watch him do so. Styles can only shake his head tiredly, He knew that this guy was different from all the other heroes he assisted for the event, but never thought that Saitama would be this different.
"Man, I still remember a week ago, to think this weeny was so strong, Pffft. Well, guess I shouldn't be complaining, least this I know this Saitama guy is decent… " Styles said to himself, nodding in agreement to himself.
The Day Styles met Saitama...
Indeed, when Styles meet Saitama for the first time at the Organization, he figured this guy was a joke, that he was just a gag hero or something. He definitely didn't look the part, at least, what with the yellow suit, and red boots and gloves, and the fact that he was bald. Yup, Styles thought that the Organization sent him the wrong guy, Again, since he had a bad past with the Organization before. But when Saitama showed him the list of people that requested a fight with him, Styles found himself staring blankly at him.
"You know you're dead, right pal? If that list ain't fake that is." Styles simply said to a confused looking Saitama.
"Huh? But it isn't fake, otherwise, I wouldn't be here, looking for you." Saitama replied, looking at Styles with a tilted head.
He did have a point, no way would Styles find this yahoo at any point in time if this were a fake listing, since he would have to notify the Organization about the whole spiel about assistants and junk. Styles was thinking deeply, when Saitama tapped his shoulder.
"Yo, what's your name? Mines Saitama." Saitama asked.
Styles could only look at Saitama in manner that said "Huh?". Weird, no one ever asked his name on the first meet up of the event, in fact, almost no one ever asked for his name in general. From all the years that he's been a part of this event, all the people he assisted usually asked him where they would train, what opponent they'll be fighting, and when would their scheduled fight begin, and if he were lucky, he would get asked what he wanted for lunch. So for this guy to ask his name, it was strange indeed. The only thing Styles could do was answer his question earnestly.
"Name's Finnick P. Styles, but the people around here usually call me Styles. Nice to meetcha, pal, sorry for being such an ass early on, just that this business tends to "rough" up people, and I got no time for softies, if you know what I mean." Styles said, as he extended a hand towards Saitama.
"No biggie man, just figured I would need to know the guy that would be watching over me for the next two weeks. I'll be in your care for the time being, hope I ain't too much trouble." Saitama said as he shook Styles hand, firm and sturdy.
"Nice grip pal, or should I say, Boss?" Styles joked. But seriously, no one ever treated Styles like a regular joe, not in a long time at least. So it was very refreshing to have someone like Saitama to come along.
"I'm cool with whatever you call me man, just don't be a dick about it." Saitama said, smiling warmly.
"Wow, this guy is even cool with me calling him whatever… Jesus, from all the heroes of the past, this guy is the most down to earth." Styles thought to himself, as he let go of Saitama's hand.
Looking at Saitama now, Styles had a feeling that he was going to actually enjoy being this guy's assistant for the whole event. He already did something out of the ordinary from all the heroes he watched over, and he was kind of hoping to see what this guy has to show, since so many heroes requested "Him" to fight with. Yup, this time around, Styles felt like he was going to like this Hero in front of him, and that this year's event ought to be one for the ages…
Saitama's Training: 1 Day in progress...
Styles looked at the front of a location, of what appears to be the designated training spot, with a deadpan expression. This has got to be an actual joke now, there was no way that the training location for this guy is an abandoned warehouse next to the sea. Sure, he looked at the designation spot of where Saitama was supposed to be occupied in, but really? An abandoned warehouse? Jesus, they must've not liked this guy for them to throw him into a literal abandoned building.
"Hey Boss, are you sure you want to train here? I mean, I ain't one to judge, but this place looks like a place where people go to die." Styles said as he guided Saitama to the entrance of the warehouse.
"Eh, I don't really care, if they're things to punch inside of the place, I don't mind at all. It doesn't take a fancy gym or hidden resort to work out, especially if I'm just doing regular exercises for the time being." Saitama said with ease, as he entered the warehouse.
Styles just look at Saitama incredulously…
"Really?! Anyone in this situation would be pissed off to hell, especially if knowing that their place of training is an abandoned warehouse. If the heroes I used to watch over were to know that a warehouse was their place of training, they wouldn't train to begin with. Jesus, I'm getting mad for him, for how unfair this is. Does this guy really not care, or is he trying to sound cool?" Styles thought to himself, as he followed Saitama into the warehouse.
You see, Styles is mad because the Hero Organization hand picks the places of training for each hero that'll be going to the event, to not only help them maximize their abilities, but to also show where they stand, popularity-wise, in the Hero Organization. If a hero were to be placed in a resort, then that hero obviously had won over a few higher ups. If another hero however, were to be placed in a dirty motel, it shows that the Hero Organization didn't give a rat's ass about that hero, whatsoever. So Saitama getting an abandoned warehouse as a spot for training is like the Hero Organization saying, "Oh, you're here too? Um... Yea, here you go…" Style was pissed off, how dare they treat this guy like an ass, he for sure as hell didn't deserve this type of treatment, and for Saitama to be ok with the conditions made him even madder. Before Styles could bust anymore veins, he caught a glance at Saitama, who simply started stretching in the middle of the building.
"Boss, what're you doing? Are you seriously gonna train in this dump?!" Styles shouted as he was now getting even madder at how Saitama accepted the whole situation.
"Hmm? Like I said, I Don't really care where they put me. Just as long it has a roof, and a place where my feet can touch the ground, I don't mind, not at all." Saitama stated, now stretching his legs.
"This guy, what's his deal? Why is he so laxed about this, does he really not care?" Styles questioned himself, as he watched Saitama start to run around in the warehouse.
Styles watched Saitama as he ran, and let him tell ya, that man can run. He watched as Saitama slowly started going faster and faster, until he started to run like a motorcycle going 30mph, and then ramped it up to that of a car that was going 60 mph. Styles was at a loss for words, he couldn't believe his eyes. Was this man really running at 60 mph… for an hour straight?
"This guy can't be human, can he? There is no way a man could go that fast, for that long… He must be using a device or something, yea, that's it." Styles said to himself as he kept watching Saitama.
Saitama kept running for another hour, not even breaking a sweat during any of it, while Styles on the other hand, was drenched. Somehow, watching Saitama running at speeds like, it made him sweat, knowing that if he were to even go a "100th" of the speed Saitama went, he would've died instantly. Saitama eyed Styles panting heavily, wondering why he was the one sweating, it's not like he was the one doing the running in the first place. He threw Styles a towel from his pack he brought with him to the warehouse.
"Hey Boss, What was that? You ran, like, a solid 60 mph for a good hour or two, what's the deal?" Styles asked, as he was catching his breath, and wiping himself down.
"Oh, that? That was just me doing a simple warm up for my legs." Saitama said as he was getting into his punching stance, eyeing an all too innocent crate a few feet away from where he was standing.
"Joking Wave Punch." Saitama said casually, as he threw his fist into the direction of the crate.
"Huh?" Was all Styles could get out, as a tremendous boom was heard… and felt, sending Styles flying into a pile of crates in the background.
Saitama's punch formed a large stream of pressurized air, that ripped away at not only the poor crate, but at one the main walls of the warehouse itself. The warehouse shook from the force it took, and the wall gave way in an instant. Debris scattered from different directions, some splashing into the sea, other traveling into the stratosphere. As for the wall, it flew miles away from where the warehouse was originally, making a huge splash as it fell into the sea. As for the crate, let's say it pulled a unicorn, or a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, yea, it simply didn't exist anymore. Saitama looked at his smoking fist in confusion, he only threw a "Joking" punch, so why did it do so much damage? Saitama simply did a shoulder shrug and surveyed the damage he'd done on the place.
Styles, on the other hand, emerged from the pile of crates. He rubbed his eyes, all to find a massive hole formed into the wall of the warehouse. He looked over to Saitama, whose fist was still smoking from the punch he threw.
"Huh, I thought the walls were sturdier than that. Man, I only threw a "Joking" wave punch too (sigh), oh well, let's dial it back down to a "Reduced" wave punch, and try again." Saitama said disappointedly, as he needed to recalibrate his fist, as to not destroy the place of where he was suppose to train in.
Whereas Styles went back into hiding in his little pile of destroyed crates, shaking as he shifted in and out of the rubble. He rubbed his eyes again, to see if he was seeing things, to make sure that there was always a hole in the abandoned warehouse, and that it was not just created by Saitama's gigantic punch. After that short time of denial, Styles watched as Saitama propped up another crate in the same spot where the other crate was previously. As to say where the other crate went, Styles can only hope it was a quick death for it.
"Alright, here we go. (Please don't go overboard, Please don't go overboard…)" Saitama repeated to himself as he threw a new "wave" punch towards the crate.
~ For anyone new to Saitama, He has a list of moves to choose from, from consecutive normal punches, to two-handed consecutive normal punches, to normal "wave" punches. To which, Saitama chose to throw a "wave" punch towards the crate. However, Saitama had to recalibrate this punch, so to lessen the collateral damage that might come to the building. ~
"Reduced Wave Punch." Saitama whispered quietly, as he threw the punch directly at the crate before him.
When Saitama threw this punch, of course, there was the iconic boom, both loud and forceful, but with a lot less power behind it. The shockwave from this punch formed a compact bullet of compressed air that hit the crate dead center, and kept on going through it, even as the crate exploded into shards of wood. The force of the punch still blew parts of the already torn hole in the wall away, causing the hole to grow in size. What remained of the crate was nothing but a few splinters, and the "wave" punch still soared in the air for a couple of miles away from the warehouse, before it dissipated into thin air once again.
"Hmm, a little better, still bit on the strong side, If I'm being completely honest here." Saitama said to himself, going over to prop up another crate.
Styles, who was in the corner, in a pile of broken crates, just shook his head at how much he just witnessed. When Saitama said that he only threw a "joking" punch in the beginning, Styles shuddered at that statement, and took back of what he said about a machine, or device. Nothing on this blue world could've produced something so destructive, that could be used in a hand held setting.
"U-Umm, B-Boss? C-Could you please t-take a minute to r-rest? I-I would very much l-like to have one r-right now." Styles stuttered, only to be greeted with a happy smile from Saitama.
"Oh, sure Styles, I need to think of a way to throw a lighter punch anyway. A break might be good for right now." Saitama said, as he went up to Styles and sat down by him, cross-legged.
Styles was just grateful that he didn't have to feel another one of those punches. If a "joking" punch was able to put hole in a triple-cemented, brick reinforced, building, he was scared of what a "normal" punch would do. To think that this guy had so much power in him, it amazed Styles to the point of awe.
"Yo Styles, you think you can get something stronger I can punch at from the Organization? It's cool if you can't, don't force yourself if you don't want to." Saitama asked easily, as he was helping up Styles from the pile of crates he was in.
Styles was just staring at Saitama the whole time, as he was getting up from the crates. To think that this guy would treat his job as a favor, rather than an order. Styles was at loss for words, he never met a hero so down to earth, with the power he's packing, no less. Of all of the heroes Styles has been with, Saitama here, was the only one that treated him a like a friend, and by god did feel good to have one. All of the Organization goons were just awful to be with, and the heroes he was paired up with were usually too stuck up, or moody to get to know.
You would think that the power Saitama had would go to his head, but nope, not him, for he's just a regular guy, like anyone else on you'd meet on the street. This made Styles respect Saitama even more, and to be honest, Saitama is just a good guy to hang around with. Styles would now make it his mission to watch over this hero, to ensure that he gets nothing but the best, from both him, and the Organization, for he was the hero that deserved it. Styles stood up, and placed a hand on Saitama's shoulder.
"Let's see what I can find ya, Boss." Styles said, as he smiled confidently towards Saitama.
And for the next couple of days, Styles would find out that Saitama is just damn too strong, breaking everything he brought from the Organization, and turning it into dust, blowing it away from the warehouse, or simply shattering it to pieces. But even after that, Styles still kept on putting up with Saitama, for he was the one hero that treated him like friend, and that he was the only hero his was willing to lend a hand to. For every other hero however, he would simply turn a blind eye towards to, for that's what the did to him.
Saitama's Training: 1 Week in progress...
Styles was deep into his flashback scene, sighing wistfully at the fact that Saitama was a true friend of his. On the other hand, Saitama simply stared at Styles with confusion.
"The hell is Styles thinking about? Better not be about that punching stand thing, it's already flatten." Saitama thought to himself, as he kept on making ninja poses.
For the most part, Saitama was still super excited for the big event to take place, and that nothing in the world would make him change his mind about it. The rush was already coursing in his system, and he felt the pulses coming back. He had to stop himself though, for he remembered what happened last time when he didn't keep his excitement in check.
"I wonder what the other guys are doing right now?" Saitama thought to himself, wondering if they're preparing for this fight too.
Saitama's mind drifted to the people he's going to be fighting with, wondering how their training was going.
"I know for sure King ain't gonna do shit, what with all that otaku nonsense. Genos is gonna be getting some sweet new parts, hopefully they're better than the last ones I went up against. And Bang, Let's hope he doesn't get hurt too badly, because I would never forgive myself if I was the one that did it to him." Saitama thought to himself again.
Saitama knew it was wrong to meddle in the affairs of his opponents, so he dropped his train thought immediately. He remembers that these guys were the ones that challenged him (with the exception of King) to the event, and it was only fair that he would treat them with the respect that they deserve for doing so. After all, this was a tournament, and one shouldn't be thinking others during one. Once this tournament business was all taken care of, they would go back to the lazy days of his apartment, but for now, He needs to focus on what is at stake here.
"That's right... That one good fight. That's all that matters, and hopefully, with god as my witness, Let's hope that I'll find it." Saitama said with some pride in his voice.
So Saitama did what he usually did in long days past, and preps himself up for the next day of training, hoping that the event comes sooner, than later…
Bang's Training: 1 Week in progress…
Bang mediated in stance that seemed a bit off…
He was meditating in a headstand, with his eyes close, while his legs were cross-legged in the air.
"Um, Master Bang, why are you doing such a pose? Aren't you suppose to be training for the big tournament?" Asked a young boy with vibrant green hair, To which, Bang simply replied.
"Tell me young one, is a battle always won only using fists?" Bang asked the boy.
"For the most part, yes." Answered the boy innocently.
"Ah, so that's your way of thinking then…" Bang said again, eyes still shut.
"What does that mean, Master Bang?" The boy asked curiously.
"Oh nothing, it is just that you think that with enough conflict, any one problem can be solved through strife. Never mind using your head in situations like these, You simply use your fists as an answer, which is not entirely bad, for you that is, since you are still young." Bang lectured on.
"So what are trying to say, Master Bang?" The boy asked, a bit mad at him for the lecturing.
"One does not win battles with might alone. Although might may be reliable, ones mind can tend to have answers that a fist might be blind to. As opposed to a fist, the mind can whittle down a foe just as effectively, while expending almost no force at all. Simply put, the mind can be just as mighty as fist, when used right, that is." Bang told in teacher-like manner.
The boy just shrugged to that answer, and asked another question.
"What happens when there's a force that is even stronger then what the mind can comprehend? What would you use then?" The boy asked again.
Bang just stared out into the sky, for he had no answer to that question, considering he was about to face such a force in the coming week.
"You ask too many questions, boy, leave me be to my musings." Bang softly scolded.
The boy pulled a raspberry on Bang, and ran as fast as he could, as to not get spanked by Bang.
Bang just went back to his meditating, praying that the training the others were in, were going along bit better then what he has to deal with...
Genos's Training: 1 Week in progress...
Genos was strapped to Dr. Kuseno's table like usual, to get upgrades and system updates to ensure that he would be ready for the coming week. It was then Genos realized something grievous, and couldn't control his anguish.
"Damn it, DAMN IT!" Genos yelled at the top of his lungs, struggling in the strapless.
"What is it Genos, are you ok? Is something hurting you?!" Dr. Kuseno asked, as he was frightened by Genos's sudden outburst.
"No Doctor, nothing is going the way I want it too!" Genos yelled out again.
"What do you mean Genos? I've already retrofitted you with my latest tech, and if I add anymore, your body can't take it. I've given you the best weapons I could develop, and installed a fight simulator that will aid you in fighting realistic versions of opponents you deem worthy to fight. What more it there I can do for you?" Dr. Kuseno pleaded to Genos.
"No, it's not any that Dr. Kuseno. I'm grateful for everything that you've done for me, it's just…" Genos cut off, too wracked with grief to say it.
"Just what? Just what, Genos? Remember, you can tell me anything, I'm here for you." Dr. Kuseno said, trying to reassure Genos.
"..." Genos was silent for a minute, and then…
"I DON'T HAVE ANY PROGRAMMINGS FOR STRESS RELIEF!" Genos yelled out, completely embarrassed at what he said.
"What?" Asked Dr. Kuseno, obviously confused.
"I read somewhere in plenty of magazines where people often engage in specific acts that provide very much needed stress relief. If I could just learn these techniques, then maybe I could apply them to my Sensei, allowing him to facilitate better teachings to me." Genos explained.
"I-I see…" Said Dr. Kuseno, who was looking at Genos weirdly.
"So may I ask what type of magazines these were, or the name of them, at least?" Dr. Kuseno asked, hoping to find out where Genos got these ideas.
"Oh, from a very popular magazine brand called "JustUsBoys", you see I'm a huge fan of them myself, for they have great advice on how to make the living experience between men more enjoyable." Genos said with ease, like it was nothing.
Dr. Kuseno could only look at Genos with a deadpan expression. Genos could only look back with pleading eyes, and hoped that Dr. Kuseno would help him out again with this. With a big sigh, and much internal deliberation, Dr. Kuseno reluctantly agreed to install such programmings into Genos.
"Good God, what the hell am I doing with my life…" Dr. Kuseno asked himself with a hand to his head, as he was now uploading files and programs into Genos that told what he needed to do with this "Stress Relief".
"Yes, with this, I can finally come closer to achieving my one goal, to destroy that damn cyborg, and get my revenge." Thought Genos, as he was getting his mind filled with all sorts of new, possible situations that he might need to do for his Sensei.
Dr. Kuseno could only shake his head.
"I'm so sorry, Genos's Sensei, please forgive an old man that simply wants to see the young smile. Good Luck with this Genos now, you're gonna need it…" Dr. Kuseno said, as he finished up the last of the installations.
King's Training: 1 Week in progress...
"I-Is. That. T-The. Best. You. G-Got?" King spat out, as he placed his hands on his knees.
"Oh please, if that was even a "quarter" of my best, you would've died instantly." Said a woman wearing a tight, black spandex suit, while walking over to King.
"H-Haha, puhhh-leasee. Don't make "ME" l-laug-" King was about to say, when he coughed up even more spit.
"Aww, looks like the "King" is going to get dethroned by the "Queen", what say you, Big Boy? Wanna take this somewhere more private?" The woman called out in a seductive tone, as she was closing up on King.
King was starting to get really annoyed at this woman. Who does she think she is? Thinking that her, a bonafide bitch, can take on "THE KING?!" Nope, not happening, so whatever fatigue King felt now, it disappeared. What replaced it was some new found rage to put this bitch in the ground. This bitch had balls to think she can tell "THE KING" what to do!
"Try me, Bitch, let's go again, and this time, we go all in, no if's, and's, or but's about it." King stated as he now stood tall and proud, which intimidated the woman to her core briefly, but she wasn't going to show it.
"Aww, you're no fun… But fine, I'll gladly win all of "You", It'll be easy anyways." The woman spoke with a lopsided grin, as she walked back towards her side of the area. That little grin made King even more pissed.
"And when I win, I'll make sure you won't be walking right ever again, you hear me?!" King roared at the woman, who was now facing in his direction, taking up a stance.
"Big words coming from a Big Boy, I can't wait to take you home with me. Always wondered what it feels like to beat a KING." The woman called out seductively, making sure she got her point across.
King, all the while, chose his stance wisely, stretched a few muscles to loosen up, and said a quick prayer to anyone listening up above, before the fight began.
"I hope Saitama and the others have an easier time training, What I have to go through right now, my god... Over a whole week of this bitch's torture, and I ain't getting nothing from it. Man, I wouldn't wish this shit on anybody, not even my worst enemy doesn't deserve the hell I'm going through right now…" Was the only King was able to think about, before the sound of a gong rang out, and the fight started. How it will end, depends on how many quarters are left in King's pockets, And how long the arcade's game controls would last...
Yo, It's ChickenMC again, and I'd like to say thanks for reading this story. I literally started this story like 2 days ago, and already it has "Too" many people reading it. Like bruh, why are you guys reading this so much? Anyway, thanks again for reading up on this story, and that you can all look forward to seeing some action in the next chapter. So, please, keep reading, and review when you can. I greatly appreciate any feedback, so I can know where to gauge the story. Alright people, I'll see yalls in the next one!
