Author's note: So because I know a lot of people are going to be mad after reading this chapter, I'll clarify a few things right away. Saitama in OPM canon has had three years of training, including fighting monsters, and possibly spent some more time on top of that doing hero work. In other words, it's a Saitama who has completed his journey of being strong. Think of him as a maxed out character, with his level at 100. The Saitama in this fic has had only a year of training, and very little combat experience. He is still in the process of that journey of becoming OP. So if he's not as powerful as his canon version yet, it's because he hasn't got there. But don't worry, he will. Chapter 5: Fierce Fight The two pro heroes walked back towards the faculty building. The silence between them wasn't tense, but it was far from relaxed. All Might was in his muscle form, though the time he could spend in it had shortened drastically since he had passed on his Quirk. All that remained in his body now was the last vestiges of that power. It was a miracle he was still able to fight at all, given the damage to his lung. But there was no rest for the world's best loved hero. Teaching at UA, as strenuous as it was, may very well be almost therapeutic for him. At the very least, it did not require the exertion crime-fighting did, and of course, there was the satisfaction of knowing that a new generation of heroes was rising to take his place. Speaking of which, it was Aizawa who spoke out. All Might turned to look at him. Immediately, his mind shot to Midoriya, and he wondered if Aizawa had noticed something. Of course, Midoriya's power wasn't only similar to All Might, it was exactly the same. The only difference was that All Might's body was strong enough to safely use it, while Midoriya's was not. But that very difference meant that it was very unlikely anyone would make a connection between the two. Therefore, the one Eraserhead was talking about most likely wasn't Midoriya. All Might already knew, of course. From the stands, he had watched the entire physical assessment, so he had seen it for himself. The boy's power was enormous. Physical strength, speed, endurance, stamina: he seemed to possess no limits when it came to these attributes. What was even more impressive, and frankly terrifying, was that throughout the events, he had seemed to be consciously All Might stared at Aizawa, pupils dilated in surprise. All Might stopped short of saying the word. Impossible. That was what he was going to say. But in a world where Quirks could do any number of incredible things that would have once been considered impossible, that word had no meaning. Especially not when it was already proven that the human body, even when lacking a physical performance related Quirk, could reach superhuman levels through training. But even so, for someone to be as strong as Saitama was an outlier. To call it a significant discovery for science would be an understatement. How exactly had the boy achieved his power? Depending on the method, it could mean that humans were capable of potentially anything. Whether or not others could do what he did remained to be seen, but the fact that his strength had nothing to do with a Quirk also had other consequences. For example… Erasure wouldn't do anything to him. Nor would certain other anti-Quirk measures. If it really came down to it, the only way to stop the boy was by force. All Might felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck. Aizawa and All Might looked up, to see an old man standing at the window of the faculty building they had just arrived at. With a light movement, he jumped off, landing as smoothly as a cat next to them, as though the signs of aging on him were merely superficial. Eraserhead remained silent. The arrival of the old man wasn't unexpected. In fact, it was very likely that he too had been watching 1A's assessment. He waited to see what he would have to say. It was better that he was here already, because they would likely have needed to call on him anyway.
"He's a strong lad," said Bang. "If I were to put it in numbers, I'd say he was using maybe 1 percent of his power during the assessment." A look of alarm shot across the faces of Toshinori and Aizawa, though Bang continued to look relaxed. Bang nodded. He closed his eyes. When Bang opened his eyes, there was a gleam in them, which once more caused a bead of sweat to roll down the necks of the two other pro heroes. Aizawa started. Eraserhead sighed, a sense of relief spreading through him. Bang grinned.
Two teenage boys walked towards the apartment they shared, school bags slung on their backs. The sun was setting, but it hadn't quite dipped below the horizon yet, just low enough to bathe the street in the orange glow of dusk.
"Sensei, that was outstanding work in the assessment test today. As always, you are an example to us all."
"Genos, haven't I told you to cut it out with that 'sensei' stuff? Just call me Saitama."
"As you wish, Saitama sensei."
"That's not- you know what? Never mind. We're having rice and chicken tonight. Work for you?"
"Yes! Allow me, it's my turn to cook."
"Okay."
As the two of them walked up the stairs to their flat, a message ringtone played.
"Oh, what's this?"
Saitama pulled out his cell phone, staring at its screen. Instead of an automated sender, he was greeted by the unfamiliar sight of a proper name.
1 Message Received, Kirishima.
He blinked.
Unlocking the phone, he checked the message, not really knowing what to expect.
"Dude, you were totally amazing out there today. Holy shit, I don't think I've ever seen someone so strong! That was manly as hell. Let's do our best tomorrow as well. PS: If we're still alive after whatever they have planned, you want to hit up an arcade?"
"Sensei, is everything all right? Did you receive spam mail?"
"No, it's fine. It's from Kirishima."
It was just a feeling that he was experiencing for the first time.
Being Quirkless, he had never been automatically popular as a kid. And being who he was, he had never gone out of his way to try to make friends. As a result, he'd grown up as a loner. Despite having had a phone since middle school, this was the first text he was receiving from a classmate.
"Sure, that sounds good," he typed, before hitting send.
Should I have said something more? I don't want to be rude. Oh well, no point thinking too much about it.
Kirishima…
"Seems like a good guy," he muttered. "Well, most of them do."
Opening the door, the two of them entered their apartment, home from their first day of high school.
The next day:Saitama and Genos got on the train heading to UA. However, this time around, the ride was a bit more eventful than last time. Since the specialized rail connected all the nearby cities to UA Isle, it was the predominant mode of transport used by the vast majority of its students to go to school. Which meant, inevitably, that they ran into several of their classmates on the way.
"Hey, hey, over here!" shouted an energetic, cheerful voice.
Waving at the two of them was a girl with vivid pink skin and hair to match. From her forehead extended small antennae. The sclera of her eyes were black, while the irises were gold. Despite all of these unusual features, however, there was no way to describe her other than pretty.
"Oh, that girl's in our class, isn't she?", asked Saitama.
"Yes, Sensei. That's Ashido Mina."
"Ah, I see!"
Next to the Mutant Quirk possessor stood a shorter, more slender girl. While her slight build made it possible to mistake her for being younger than she was, the combination of her mature face and stern expression were enough to prevent anyone from commenting on it.
"Oh, and that's Tatsumaki."
The esper's eyes met that of the young Quirkless hero-in-training, and she glared for a moment before looking away.
"Hey, guys, over here!"
Turning in the opposite direction, they saw two more familiar faces approaching.
Kirishima had his usual shark-toothed grin on his face, while next to him with a smaller but equally genuine smile was Satoru.
The three groups met up in a compartment and exchanged greetings.
"Man, I'm still not over how awesome everyone was yesterday. I've really got to work hard to keep up," said Kirishima. The red-haired youth had performed well on all the events, but hadn't managed to break into the top five on any of them.
"I know, right?" said Ashido, gold eyes glowing. "It's like some kind of elite only class! I mean I knew UA was awesome, but I didn't think there'd be this many people with ultra-strong Quirks just in our class. We've got our work cut out for us."
Ashido and Kirishima both seemed to interact rather easily with each other, something Saitama noticed. He wondered for a while if he should ask, but ultimately decided it was none of his business. It was at this point that he spotted the pink-haired girl trying to engage Genos in conversation.
"These are so cool! I didn't know there was a Quirk that could turn your arms into advanced weapons," she said.
"My arms aren't the result of a Quirk," said Genos. "In truth, I'm a cy-"
Before he could finish what he was saying, Saitam rushed forward and clamped a hand on his mouth.
"Shh! You really okay with letting a secret like that out?"
Comprehension dawned in Genos' eyes, and Saitama let go.
"But Sensei, didn't you likewise reveal your secret yesterday?"
"Eh? Oh, that's right, I did. But I worked out and got strong. It's not exactly something I need to keep a secret."
"What secret?" asked Ashido curiously.
Kirishima chose to answer.
"Oh, it's just a joke Saitama likes to make."
"It's not a joke though," protested the dark-haired boy.
"Of course it is," said Kirishima. "There's no way you're that strong without a Quirk. Come on, dude. No one's going to fall for that."
"Wait. Did you say you don't have a Quirk?"
The girl who had been silent thus far, Tatsumaki, finally entered the conversation.
She was staring right at Saitama, her gaze sharp enough to cut.
"Yes, because I don't," the boy replied.
"You think that's funny?"
Tatsumaki's voice was low, ominous even.
Everyone took a subconscious step back. Genos went on guard, beginning to heat up his Incineration Cannon.
Saitama remained blissfully unmoved.
"It's not funny because it's not a joke," he said seriously.
"Don't lie to me!" said Tatsumaki. She sounded angry, leaning forward, though her head barely reached upto Saitama's chest. "It isn't humanly possible to do the things you do without some kind of energy, or a radically different body structure. Neither of those are things a human can have without a Quirk. Why even utter such an obvious lie? Besides. Are you trying to say you made it into UA, where the rest of us had to train our Quirks for our whole lives to enter… without even having one?"
The young hero-in-training looked at his peers, who gave him a nervous look. Saitama scratched his head, sighing.
"I'm not trying to offend anyone. I know you all worked hard to get in, but so did I. I didn't have it easy. I had to give it everything I had and then some to get where I am. But it's true, I did it without a Quirk."
Genos said nothing. He believed Saitama, of course. Aside from the boy being trustworthy, there was also the data he had, which supported his statements. His power was that of an outlier: either an extremely rare Quirk… or not a Quirk at all.
And there was Satoru, who also believed him. In a not-so-strange way, he and Saitama were kindred spirits. Both open and honest boys. They saw themselves in each other, and Satoru knew Saitama was telling the truth. He wondered if he should step forward and intervene. Tatsumaki's heart was in the right place, but she was angry. Much like Bakugo, her anger came from the fact that she had worked to excel as part of a system. A system whose injustices they had seen. Those with strong Quirks were given attention, respect, fame, love, everything. And those without had nothing. They had taken the pressure that was put on those with strong Quirks, and pushed themselves to be the best, better than their peers. That was why the existence of Saitama, who had surpassed the system, gone beyond it, shattered their world, shattered the very foundations on which they stood.
From her perspective, Tatsumaki had her reasons to feel angry. Satoru realized that it would be like working your entire life for something, thinking it was the best thing in the world, then realizing something even better existed all along.
So he said nothing. It was better to give her the chance to sort out her own feelings.
She glared at Saitama a few more seconds, then turned away.
"Whatever. You aren't the best anyone. Don't get cocky."
To everyone's surprise, the youth responded with a grin.
"Now that's more like it!"
Tatsumaki looked at him, mouth slightly open, frowning.
"W-what?"
Saitama's eyes glinted.
"It's a sad day when heroes get bitter about stuff. If we're pissed, we say it straight up. And if we want to be the best… we surpass the best."
He clenched his fist.
"You're in my sights too, Terrible Tornado. So we'll settle this UA style, in class."
The esper stared and blinked, before meeting his determined gaze with one of her own.
"You're talking a lot, baldy-"
"I'm not bald."
"- but you're on. I'll show you who's truly strong."
As the two faced off, their friends exchanged glances.
"This happens quite often, huh?"
"Indeed. Sensei never backs down from any challenge."
Mina's voice took on a note of curiosity.
"Sensei? I thought you two were friends, Genos."
The pupils of the young warrior's cybernetic eyes widened, responding to the natural pattern mapped into his nervous system.
"Friends…", he muttered, as though the word were foreign to him.
Seeing the look on his face, Ashido patted him on the back. She knew Genos tended to think a little too much about things. She was familiar with the serious type.
She didn't dislike them.
"Don't worry about this kind of stuff too much. What's meant to happen will."
Before the conversation could go any further, a voice on the intercom announced that the final stop was coming up. Moments later, they arrived on UA Isle and got off.
"Wonder what kind of crazy training they have in store for us today," said Kirishima.
It didn't take them long to get to class. As they were entering, Tatsumaki slowed down. Standing across the corridor from her was a girl who was rather tall, especially for a high schooler. Her short, emerald green hair seemed oddly familiar.
Saitama, wondering what the hold up was for, followed Tatsumaki's gaze, and saw her. Right away, he recognized her as the one who had had a lot of followers, the one who had been trying to bully Satoru on the morning of the entrance exam. He recalled a conversation he'd had with his class' resident esper.
Oh, that's right. She's Tatsumaki's younger sister.
As they looked on, a few other students arrived, surrounding her, before… bowing to her and moving aside as she entered 1B's classroom.
"Woah," said Kirishima. "That chick's already at the top of B Class?"
Tatsumaki clicked her tongue in annoyance.
"She always was good at gathering underlings."
Saitama frowned. Despite her brushing it off, he could tell that the esper was bothered by what she had seen. There was some kind of bad blood between the sisters.
"Oi, Tatsumaki. Don't get distracted. If your eyes are on the top spot, then the one you'll be facing is me."
She turned to face him, a little taken aback, but he was already walking into class.
Tch. This one's annoying too. But… at least he fights his own battles.
She clenched her fist.
Popularity and allies are meaningless. At the end of the day, all that matters is one's own strength. Wait and watch, Fubuki. The one at the top of S Class… will be me.
She entered 1A along with the others, but didn't have any time to settle down. A minute or so after their arrival, the door opened once more. She looked around, expecting to see Aizawa, but instead saw an old man she couldn't recognize.
"Settle down, please," he said. Something about his gravelly voice carried commanded respect, though it sounded relaxed.
"Settle down, everyone," said Iida, echoing his words. "The teacher is here."
His loud voice silenced anyone still talking, and now, everyone's attention was squarely focused on the mysterious old man.
"Oho, we have a youngster here who likes taking the initiative. That's a good quality for a hero."
"Yes, sensei!" said Iida, bowing.
The elderly gentleman nodded slightly at him, before looking at the rest of the class one by one.
As his eyes met Saitama's, the boy felt a chill run down his spine, and his heartbeat speed up with a familiar thrill.
This old man… he's strong!
"If you'll all follow me, we'll head to Training Ground B."
The students began to move. The previous day had taught them to do as their teachers said, and be prepared for anything.
When the reached the ground floor, the old man stopped.
"When enrolling, you would have all been told to prepare a hero uniform for yourselves, and mail it to the school."
They nodded.
"If you all enter the changing rooms now, you should find your uniforms waiting for you. Put them on now. I'll be waiting here."
A murmur of excitement went up among the students at the prospect of being in their hero uniforms. For them to have to wear them, whatever training was coming next would involve action. And, in a sense, those uniforms represented what they wanted to be as heroes. Thus, revealing them in front of their peers and their teachers was a prospect that had them nervous, but also eager.
Inside the changing room, Saitama found a locker with his name on it. Opening it, he found the hero suit he had sent to UA. It looked a little different from how it had before, and he realized that the reason the school must have asked him to send it beforehand was so that they could make modifications to it. Probably a way to make sure they were ready to be worn on the field. Reaching out, he grasped the fabric, feeling it in his hand. As he did, he felt a smile on his face.
It took a while for everyone to change into their uniforms, since some were more complex than others, with specific equipment designed to allow efficient use of their abilities.
Kirishima activated his hardening, jagged spikes forming on his body. Fortunately, his leather strap-like upper body wear left most of his torso and arms bare, so his Quirk didn't tear through anything.
"Nice! With this, I can go all out without worries."
A little further away, Bakugo smashed his gauntlets, which resembled extra-large grenades, together. This particular part of his gear had a very specific function, and he wouldn't have been able to make it himself. Fortunately, UA's labs were very advanced, and they were only too happy to help students by making any equipment they needed.
"Go as hard as you like, Spikehead," said the blond. "You'll still go down."
Kirishima grinned.
"That's a pretty cool battle uniform you have there."
He looked around. Most people's gear looked quite impressive, obviously made with some thought to making the best use of their abilities.
Finally, his eyes landed on Saitama, curious to see what the 1A's current ace would wear onto the field.
When he saw, his jaw dropped open.
"Uh… Saitama… that uniform…"
The boy flexed his arms.
"Looks pretty good, right?" he said.
Kirishima felt a bead of sweat rolling down his face.
"Uhh… yeah… very retro."
Saitama's hero uniform was a simple yellow jumpsuit, a belt, red leather gloves and boots, and a white cape.
It was almost painfully plain.
1A as a whole stared, not knowing what to say. On the one hand, Saitama was ridiculously strong. On the other, his hero outfit looked more like a hero cosplay than anything. Heck, it looked like something a kid might draw if asked what a hero looked like.
Genos took a moment to adjust, but once he did, immediately smacked his hands.
"Of course! Sensei's focus is on being the best hero he possibly can. To that end, he doesn't need complex battle gear, only simple and reliable clothing that won't distract him."
"Uh… you're probably overthinking it a little, dude," said Kirishima, as he watched Saitama flexing in front of a mirror, clearly liking the look.
The entire class nodded in agreement.
"It's as if he put all his stats in strength and agility, and left nothing for charisma," said Kaminari.
"It's like self-awareness doesn't matter to him at all," said Mineta.
"You're one to talk."
"Fair point."
Saitama, satisfied with the uniform, headed towards the door.
Outside, the boys and girls of 1A gathered, ready.
"Oho. We can proceed," said the old man.
He began to walk, and the students followed.
As they approached the grounds, Midoriya decided to ask the question on his mind.
"Uh… sensei, what kind of training are we going to be doing?"
Just as the question left his mouth, they emerged on to Training Ground B, which looked like an isolated apartment complex.
"Battle training," answered a familiar voice.
The students turned to see Aizawa approaching. And with him…
"I am here… to teach!"
"ALL MIGHT!"
The expected reaction followed to the one who was ranked Number 2 worldwide, and number 1 in terms of popularity. The world's most beloved pro hero.
While everyone knew that he was part of the faculty at UA, actually seeing him in person still had them excited.
As for Saitama, he looked at him with both interest and curiosity.
As a child, All Might had been a hero he had looked up to, though he had never been what one might call a fan. Seeing him now, there was no doubt he was strong, but…
If I were to compare the battle power of the three teachers here… he wouldn't be able to beat the other two?!He wasn't sure how exactly he knew, but he knew.
In Aizawa's case, All Might was actually more powerful, but something told Saitama that his abilities wouldn't work on the sleep-deprived looking man.
Which left only the elderly gentleman.
He's stronger than All Might.
There was no doubt. Saitama's instincts were certain.
In terms of sheer fighting power, the old man was in a class of his own.
He's stronger than the world's Number 2, but I've never heard of him or seen him on TV.
The thought excited him. He felt like fire was coursing through his veins.
The training exercise began. It involved students being grouped into teams of two and facing off. One team represented villains, the other heroes. The villains' task was to protect a faux bomb for a specific amount of time, while the heroes' task was to get to the bomb before that time ran out.
In other words, it was a simulation of a situation that might happen in real life. Of course, heroes and villains were allowed to fight each other to achieve their goals in this exercise.
One by one, the battles took place, each of them intense and unique, as students all used their abilities in skills in their own ways as effectively as they could.
Saitama watched impatiently. He couldn't wait to get his turn.
This was a chance to face his rivals, and defeat them.
He knew that in terms of physical power, he had an advantage. But he also knew that it was possible for someone to use their Quirk in a creative way, an unexpected way, and beat him. So he wasn't going to underestimate anyone.
Yet, Bakugo, Midoriya and Tatsumaki all had their battles. In fact, everyone had their turn.
Saitama realized that he was the only one left.
What's going on? I'm right here! Do I need to ask for my turn?
Before he could say any of that, however, the old man, who had made no comment on any of the battles thus far, finally spoke.
"That leaves only one of you, yes?"
He looked at the teen.
"Saitama kun… are you ready?"
"I've been ready for an hour now!"
"Ohoho, such youthful eagerness. I like it. Well, come on then."
He began to walk, causing Saitama to raise his eyebrows in confusion.
"Uhh, but everyone already fought once. They're exhausted now."
The old man turned to look at him.
"You won't be fighting them. Your opponent is me."
The class started to murmur.
"No way…""Saitama's going to fight a pro? Wow…""He's good, but against a pro, does he really stand a chance…""But he looks so old…""Maybe it'll be more of a demonstration?"As these discussions happened, the old man sighed. People really did judge too much based on the surface appearance.
He took off his black long-sleeved t shirt, revealing a powerful physique that would intimate any pro hero half his age. His chest and shoulders were defined as though carved of metal, while each individual abdominal muscle was clearly visible. His corded arms rippled with every movement. Even his bent posture was gone as he stood tall. His body was covered in numerous scars.
The class went silent.
"Well, Saitama kun?"
The teen looked at him, knowing now that his instincts had been right. He grinned.
"It'll be my honour."
The two of them walked towards the false building.
"We can dispense with the trivialities, yes?" said the older man.
"For sure," replied Saitama.
"What are they doing?" asked Iida. "They haven't decided who the villain or hero is."
"Right, and they're both just standing there. They entered at the same time too. Isn't the villain supposed to have a head start?" said Kirishima.
Aizawa and All Might said nothing. Though they hid it well, they were both tense as they watched.
"Saitama kun… if there was a bomb planted in a building, if villains were planning to detonate it in the middle of a city, if you didn't know how they might be guarding the inside of the building, what would you do? Would you care to demonstrate?"
Saitama looked at the building. He knew the bomb was on the top floor. That information was given to students from the start.
Casually, he jumped, reaching the level of the top floor in a second. Once there, he punched through the wall, revealing the "bomb". Leaping off the broken wall, he shot towards the metal structure, and touched it.
All of this had taken a total of 3 seconds.
He looked down at the old man and shouted.
"Probably something like this," he said.
The man nodded.
"Good, good. Next scenario: the bomb doesn't matter. A strong villain has appeared, and is threatening to destroy the city himself."
"Are you that strong villain?"
The old man and Saitama locked gazes.
"What if I am?"
Tekken 7 OST: DistorterWhat happened next was so quick, neither Aizawa nor All Might could see it.
One moment, Saitama was on the top floor of the test building.
The next, the ground was shattered by a massive crater, and Saitama was kneeling in the middle of it.
He's fast!
1A's students were watching, every fibre of their being focused.
Todoroki clenched his teeth.
He's tremendously fast, and that power is no joke. He'd go right through my ice… no, he might reach me even before I had time to create it.Bakugo growled.
He attacks with no hesitation. He's no chump, and he doesn't fuck around… that punch would have squashed that old man if it had hit.
Tatsumaki attempted to feel Saitama's body with her ESP, but to her surprise, felt resistance.
He has psychic power?! No… it's raw physical strength. That, and his bio-energetic field, his ki… it's far too powerful. I couldn't control it if I tried.
Despite all of that, however, the old man was completely unharmed, standing just outside the crater that Saitama's ground slam had created.
"Umm… All Might sensei, Eraserhead sensei… will… will that sensei really be all right? Saitama is pretty strong."
To Kirishima's surprise, both the pro heroes had no hesitation in their voices as they answered. Despite how tense they were, this was one thing they did not doubt.
"Hahaha, indeed! Young Saitama is powerful. However…"
"That old man, you should all watch him carefully. In terms of fighting, there is probably no one better in the entire Hero Association."
As a whole, the class stood stunned.
Aizawa continued.
"That… is S Class Rank 3, the fighting strength of the Hero Association, Silver Fang."
"Ohoho, not bad, young man," said Silver Fang. "But a little too flashy."
In answer, Saitama dashed in again. He knew for certain this man would be able to take it… take his full power. He wasn't holding back.
He swung wildly, a blow powerful enough that it could have beheaded Demon Level monsters with ease.
But it encountered thin air.
The old man had ducked the swing.
Before Saitama knew what was happening, he felt a dull pain in his arm.
"Too much wasted movement. You leave yourself wide open."
Saitama frowned. His arm felt numb, heavy. He could still move it, but only raise it to shoulder height at most.
What was that move? I didn't see what he hit me with! Some kind of punch to my upper arm? Was that a pressure point move? Like those badass martial artists from video games?He grinned.
"Interesting. Show me more!"
He charged in again.
With his right arm not as effective, he tried a straight jab with his left instead, carefully watching the old man's movements as he did. Instead of ducking it, he swayed to the side, avoiding it. Having no intention of giving him the chance to counter, he jabbed again, and again, constantly making him dodge.
"Good, good. You have some understanding of the flow of battle. But not enough."
As he jabbed, the old man sidestepped and attacked in one smooth movement, ramming his middle knuckle into the hollow of Saitama's elbow joint, right where the biceps tendon connected to the radius combining defence and offence, he had shortened the time window needed, and found a hole in Saitama's attacks.
Surprised when pain exploded in his arm and it fell immobile by his side, Saitama leapt back.
"What the hell, old man, that was quite a move!"
Silver Fang grinned.
The fact that he's even standing after taking the pain of two Disarming Blows… this boy has a fighting spirit like no other.
I want to test him further!
"Saitama kun, you should stop here. I can tell you've never done martial arts before, but even you should know: the hands are crucial to fighting. Without them, you cannot defend yourself."
Saitama was breathing hard.
This was the first time he had encountered this kind of adversity since his training.
His heart was pounding.
He was alive.
"Old man… those cool moves. Have you got more of them?"
"Oho? You've not had enough?"
Saitama could barely feel his arms.
Push through. I must be stronger. I must be stronger.
I MUST BE STRONGER!
Clenching his teeth, growling, he flexed his biceps. He could still feel them. But they were being held back. He flexed harder, forcing through the resistance, forcing them to move. Excruciatingly, inch by inch, they moved, veins popping on the surface of his arms from the effort. Finally, with a roar, he flexed them fully, breaking through the resistance.
Silver Fang's eyes widened.
The Disarming Blow strikes the nerves that carry motor impulses from the brain to the muscles of the arm. Normally, one must either reverse their effect with another nerve stimulation touch, or wait for it to wear off. But this boy… he powered through it and forced his nerves to send the signals. What strength of will!
He took up a proper stance.
"Well done, Saitama kun. I cannot call you a child. Come, I will face you as I would a true fighter."
"AAAAAARGH!"
Saitama charged in.
This is it. This is the fight I wanted.
Holding absolutely nothing back, he lashed out.
Though his movements were wild and inefficient, the sheer power behind them would have overwhelmed almost anyone.
But Silver Fang wasn't just anyone.
He planted his feet firmly.
In terms of strength and speed, Saitama was extraordinary. He should be equal to All Might. No, it was only by a little, but he was actually on a higher level. However, Silver Fang had read the boy's ki. The energy in him was unusual. It felt as if it was being unconsciously limited. From this, he concluded that the boy had some kind of psychological barrier in place.
He should be much stronger and faster than he is. Perhaps there is no limit to his power at all. The only thing holding him back is himself.Was it a confidence issue?
Could it be that if Saitama believed in himself more, he could push himself and go even beyond what he had shown here?
He had potential. And Silver Fang would see to it that that potential was properly fulfilled.
He closed his eyes.
In his mind, he saw a vision of the last disciple he had had.
He too had had exceptional potential.
I failed Garou. I won't fail you, Saitama.
One Punch Man Season 2 OST: Martial Arts
Taking a single one of the boy's attacks head one would have shattered his body. And he was far too fast for him to be able to react to those attacks.
But he wasn't doing either of those things.
For the legendary martial artist named Bang, completely understanding the simple movements of an untrained warrior was child's play.
He knew every single move Saitama was going to make even before he made it. The tension of the muscles, breathing, posture, direction of eyeline, mental state: by analysing all of this, and feeling his ki, he could tell what was coming three seconds in advance.
"He's going right in!" shouted Kirishima.
As Saitama swung at him, Bang did not step back. He redirected the blow, and immediately countered, smashing a fist into the boy's jaw.
Fighting through the pain, Saitama went for a backfist, only for Bang to duck while pushing his arm in a circular movement, leaving his opponent's shoulders and head open.
Non-Lethal Move: Dragon Tamer.Four consecutive strikes smashed into Saitama, one on each collarbone, one on his sternum, one on his jaw. The old man's blows had tremendous power behind them, and were delivered with pinpoint precision.
The teen's head was swimming.
"It's over."
Finishing Blow: Dragon's Bite.A fist smashed into Saitama's solar plexus, where his powerful abdominal muscles couldn't protect him from the impact.
With the breath knocked out of him, he couldn't react as the second part of the Dragon's Bite struck him: a palm strike to the neck.
Reeling, he staggered, almost falling. Almost.
"You're standing even now," said Silver Fang. "Without a doubt, your fighting spirit is outstanding. But learn to concede, young Saitama. Your journey has only begun, and there is a lot for you to learn."
Saitama looked at him, grinning.
"Damn, I was right. You're strong, old man."
"Hahaha. It would be a shame if I wasn't, after all the years I've spent training. But I think you can surpass even me, by a long way."
The teen's eyes widened.
Silver Fang smiled.
"Even now, you should be stronger than me. But you're holding yourself back."
"I was going all out though."
"Sometimes, people hold themselves back subconsciously. Perhaps it's a reflection of some desire they have. Or maybe you just haven't found your reason yet. A reason to be everything you can. But you can."
Saitama straightened up. Having had some time to recover, the pain from the attacks he had taken was starting to fade.
"To stop holding yourself back. To learn control. To learn how to fight properly. These are all things that I sense you want. Martial arts can help you with them."
"Martial arts… so that really was what you were using against me…"
Silver Fang nodded.
"This… is Flowing Water, Crushing Rock. Do you want to learn?"
Saitama's eyes were determined.
"You bet I do."