"Man. That does sound wild." King commented once Saitama was done telling his story.

The world's strongest and second-strongest heroes sat across from each other inside the Hero Association HQ. Precisely, they were in the meeting room reserved for S-Class heroes. King, the second-strongest man in the world, sat comfortably in his chair with a freshly prepared meal and beverage. Saitama, the strongest hero, also sat comfortably in his chair but only with a drink. He wasn't hungry.

The room itself was incredibly futuristic. Advanced technology lined the walls. Even the lights and the table the duo sat at were exceptionally complex. As for King's meal and their liquid refreshments, those were provided by the staff.

During Saitama's first visit after the building's construction, he mentioned how it'd feel cozier if there was food for everyone to enjoy. So, the best chefs in the world were hired by Agoni, the association's founder. Anything the savior of his grandson wanted, he'd get.

"Right? I never thought I'd see the day when a monster was a fan of mine." Saitama said before taking a sip of his tea. "Apart from the hugging, she was nice. A bit hyperactive, but that's pretty normal for me." He went on.

"I'm more interested in that capsule and its video. Did you figure out what it was before getting here?" King inquired.

"Nah. Fubuki insisted that we leave it to the Association. They have people who figure this stuff out. Leave it alone. That's what she told me." Saitama replied.

"Heh. Yeah. That sounds like her." King said with a chuckle. "Where is she, by the way? Didn't you two come together?" He asked.

"We did. But she wanted to stay in the lobby for when Tatsumaki showed up. I guess to explain everything to her." Saitama answered.

"Yeesh. Poor, Fubuki. That's going to be rough." King responded with a wince.

"Yeah. But it's better than letting her fly through the building and possibly destroying the hallways as she tries to get here. You know how Tatsumaki can be when she's unhappy." Saitama mentioned.

"You mean her normal state of being?" King questioned. Although partly in jest, that question was sincere.

"Aw, come on. Tatsumaki's not that bad. She's just frustrated there aren't that many monsters that can hold their own against her. I can empathize." Saitama said in her defense.

"Yeah. That's also why she's constantly trying to fight you." King reminded him.

"Which might be fun. But the Association won't allow it. They're concerned that a fight between us, no matter how small, could potentially reshape the planet from the shockwaves alone." Saitama told him.

"I mean, are they wrong? You two combined would shuffle the continents like a deck of cards." King said.

"Eh, very true." Saitama acknowledged.

Shick

That odd noise was the sound of the meeting room's automated door being retracted into the top of its doorway. As Saitama and King moved their gazes to the entrance, they were met with a friendly face. Entering the room was a young man the age of seventeen. His apparel comprised a school uniform, fairly baggy pants, and a shiny metal bat resting atop his shoulders.

Additionally, he was rocking a sweet pompadour.

"Ey, King, Saitama." Bad, A.K.A. Metal Bat greeted the duo as he walked in. The young hero, given his tone and friendly smile, seemed familiar with the pair.

"Hey, Metal Mat. Good to see you." King greeted with a wave. Surprisingly, this seemed to strike a nerve.

"Come on, man. How many times have I told ya to call me by my name? We're friends, aren't we?" Bad questioned while approaching. He sat to King's right as Saitama sat on his left.

"Right, sorry." King apologized. "Most of the others prefer if we use our hero names. So I keep forgetting." He explained.

"Hmph, that's fair. Not like we all know each other personally or anything." Bad said before turning his attention to Saitama. "So, you've caused some trouble, huh?" He asked with a cheeky grin.

"Hey, I didn't do anything. I was out on patrol with Fubuki when things got out of hand." Saitama answered.

"Yeah, as usual," Bad replied, leaning back in his chair. "I think King's bad luck is starting to rub off on ya. Might want to get it checked out." He suggested, poking fun at the consistent misfortune of the world's second-strongest hero.

"Who would I even go to for that? A doctor or a wizard?" Saitama inquired as if it was an actual ailment that could be treated.

"If we knew, I'd already be cured of it." King chimed in with a sigh. The weight of a lifetime of terrifying situations pressed down on him as they discussed this.

"Aw, come on, King. It's because of yer luck that you even met Saitama! Don't you feel a LITTLE bit grateful for that?" Bad asked.

"I mean, sure. He's my best friend. But still, did I have to get these for us to meet?" King responded as he pointed to the three scars on his face. "Every time I look in the mirror, it takes me back to when that octopus slashed me. Not a pleasant memory." He said.

"I think they make you look cool," Saitama commented before pointing at himself. "Imagine how much more intimidating I'd be if I had battle scars." He proposed.

"I don't know if anyone would pay attention to scars and battle marks with you. Even if you were covered head-to-toe in'em." Bad replied.

"Yeah, he makes a good point. Scars only work for those who can't knock down a building by leaning against it too hard." King agreed.

Shick

The door again. As the trio looked at the open entryway, they saw a rather intense man standing there. His skin was pale, almost ghostly. His eyes glowed with a blood-colored red. As for attire, it was a mix of a gunslinger and a private investigator.

On his belt was a holstered desert eagle of terrifying size. On his back, sheathed like a sword, a bearded ax whose blade was sharpened to the finest edge. In truth, the man resembled many depictions and interpretations of a monster hunter. One who would walk the hours of twilight, protecting the slumbering innocents from all manner of horror.

Before Bad, King, or Saitama could greet the man, his eyes locked onto the smooth-headed hero, and his mouth opened to speak.

"One Punch Man!" The man exclaimed before rushing over. He sat down in the vacant seat to Saitama's left. "Is it true? Did the House of Evolution contact you? What did they say? Did they want to recruit you?" He bombarded him with questions, almost as if this was an interrogation.

"Yo, captain cadaver, calm down." Bad interjected. "Saitama knows the same that we do. Didn't you listen to what we were told over the phone?" He inquired.

"Yes. But I need all of the details. The Association wouldn't be able to tell us exactly what happened. One Punch Man, however, can." The man responded. "Also, it's Zombieman. You know that you ass." He corrected.

"When you barge in here and start harassing a friend, I'll call you whatever I feel like," Bad replied.

"Okay. Let's remain civil." King intervened, not wanting things to get hostile. "It makes sense that Zombieman wants to talk to Saitama. If I'm not mistaken, you have a history with the House of Evolution, right?" He asked.

"That's putting it lightly." Zombieman began while folding his arms. "Its founder, doctor Genus, created me. The man's an egomaniacal genius. He sees himself as the god of a new, better world. I was part of a research of his referred to as the immortal series. To my knowledge, I was the only success. I destroyed the facility he was using at the time for this experiment. Since then, I've been working alongside the Association to keep tabs on him." He explained before looking back at Saitama. "But, unsurprisingly, Genus is interested in One Punch Man. He probably considers you the peak of human evolution. The fact he was so brazen to reach out to you with his latest creations is BEYOND concerning. We need to be careful moving forward." He told him.

"I dunno. Mosquito Girl and Ground Dragon seemed nice." Saitama responded, FLOORING the undead hero.

"One Punch Man, you can't be serious!" Zombieman exclaimed in disbelief with wide eyes. "The House of Evolution is a threat! Plain and simple! Any pleasantries and polite behavior were a front to-"

BAM

That was the sound of Bad slamming his bat onto the table. No longer was he leaning back and relaxing. Now, he glared at his peer with annoyance.

"Hey, if Saitama says these people are cool, they're cool." Bad firmly stated before raising his weapon and pointing it across the table. "Or are you going to sit there and say that he can't tell who's a prick and who's not?" He asked.

"You don't know them as I do, Metal Bat," Zombieman answered, unaffected by the other's attempt at intimidation. "If Genus somehow manages to get some of One Punch Man's DNA, we'll be in danger. The man's a highly-intelligent sociopath. I don't doubt One Punch Man's words. I'm simply that confident that Genus pulled out all the stops to appear non-threatening to the only person in the world who could backhand his creations and reduce them to a puddle." He explained.

For a few seconds, the two heroes silently stared each other down. King wondered if he should intervene, continuing to act as the mediator. Contrastly, Saitama watched with anticipation and curiosity. What would win? A perfectly-sharpened ax or a shiny metal beating stick?

Shick

Sadly, Saitama wouldn't get to see the realization of his pondering. Once more, as it would continue to do, the entrance opened. From the hallway entered two men often seen in each other's company. One was a samurai, indicated by his traditional attire and sheathed blade. The other was far more normal regarding clothing, yet he carried an aura of wisdom and skill cultivated throughout a lifetime.

The samurai looked to be in his thirties. The second man was much older, well into his senior years. However, this didn't mean he was weak or slow-minded. His senses were as refined as his talent in combat.

"Whoa." The samurai spoke once both men discovered the scene inside the meeting room. "Are you two about to fight? Your eyes say you are." He inquired.

"Atomic Samurai, Silver Fang, it's good to see you." King respectfully greeted.

"Thank you, King. It's good to see you as well." Silver Fang, the elderly man of the pair, replied. "And it is nice to see you, Saitama. It's been a bit since you've stopped by the dojo." He said while moving his gaze to their rank's leader. Like King and Bad, he was one of the few who could refer to One Punch Man by his name.

"Maybe because every time I've ever accepted an invitation, it leads immediately into a sales pitch," Saitama told him. His mind flooded with the old man's attempts to make him a student of his martial art style.

"Well, I wouldn't if you finally realized how much potential you're squandering." Silver Fang began as he approached the table and took a seat. His tone sounded like a disappointed grandfather. "Punches are fine, especially with your strength. But imagine how much you could improve if you knew ANY techniques. Even the simplest ones I have to offer would do wonders." He stated.

"Don't you go trying to make him your student!" Atomic Samurai interjected, hurrying over to the table. "Martial arts don't mean anything to someone already as strong as One Punch Man. The SWORD, on the other hand, is an EXTENSION of one's strength. Imagine. You arrive at the scene of a monster attack. The people all look at you with hope in their eyes. Then, you brandish a gleaming sword made with flawless craftsmanship. Truly, the image of a hero." He argued, doing his best to undermine Silver Fang's proposal with his own.

"Hey, geezers!" Bad exclaimed, putting a stop to their aggressive marketing tactics. "We were in the middle of something! Save the flyers for later!" He told them.

"For once, I agree with the delinquent." Zombieman chimed in, feeling the same.

"Hmph. So much for respect for one's elders." Silver Fang muttered. This sort of behavior was typical for S-Class, as shameful as that was.

"Sheesh, you two are more hostile than usual." Atomic Samurai commented, now taking a seat. "What's going on?" He asked.

"Metal Bat left his only brain cell at home. So, he doesn't understand the severity of the situation." Zombieman answered.

"One swing. That's all it'll take to make you a talking head on a table." Bad informed him, tightening his grip on his weapon's handle.

"Eh, I don't think it's a big deal." Atomic Samurai confessed, flabbergasting the pale-skinned do-gooder.

"What?! How can you say that?" Zombieman questioned.

"Think about it. Even if something is happening here, what will our enemies do? Kill One Punch Man?" Atomic Samurai suggested with an amused smirk.

"A valid point. At the first sign of trouble, Saitama will surely end any conflict before it begins." Silver Fang agreed.

"...Yeah..." Saitama said with a melancholic tone and heavy sigh. Earning him a comforting shoulder pat from King.

"All of you are underestimating Genus. I can't stress that enough." Zombieman asserted. "I'm not concerned for One Punch Man's safety nor ours. I'm worried about the nigh-infinite number of possibilities. We can't predict his true motive and end goals." He stated.

Shick

To the entrance once more did everyone's gazes go. This time, there was a decently-sized group of individuals. Standing at the front was the youngest member of S-Class, a prodigy known as Child Emperor. Regarding appearance, there wasn't anything of note to mention; he looked like a normal kid. However, his backpack hid many surprises.

The next member of the group, who stood to the left of Child Emperor, was a dark-skinned man wearing only a speedo. His physique was beyond impressive. Additionally, it shined with a shimmer that showcased the sculpted muscles perfectly. Hence, this man was given the name Superalloy Darkshine.

After him, standing on all fours on Child Emperor's right side, was a man in a dog suit. The fur of the outfit was white like snow, had a simple face for the mask, and allowed its wearer to see via an opening where the mouth would've been. This individual shared a general lack of expression and emotion like Saitama, contributing to how they got along so well. Unsurprisingly, he was given the hero name of Watchdog Man.

Following that peculiar protector of the peace was the most normal-looking person of the bunch. Standing in the center of the group was another very well-built muscular man. He wore a black tank top and full-leg light green pants. The tank top, in particular, was this hero's trademark. Granting him the name of Tank Top Master.

Lastly, the group's final member was a massive mountain of fat who stood at the back and shouldn't be alive. No, that wasn't a mean-spirited comment. It was a miracle that this man wasn't dead in his home surrounded by his favorite foods. Secretly, many within the Association, including the man's peers, wondered if he was an inexplainable entity like Saitama.

Pig God. Another direct and to-the-point name. This man's hunger was endless, like a bottomless pit. Additionally, though potentially upsetting and disturbed, Pig God's body was comparable to rubber. No matter how much fat he gained or the size of whatever he shoved into his mouth, Pig God never strained and always perfectly stretched to accommodate. It was as fascinating as it was unnerving.

These five heroes, somehow, came to the meeting room in a group. The only logical explanation was that they arrived at the same time unintentionally. Although, it was no secret that Tank Top Master and Superalloy Darkshine worked out together. So, it was probable that they came to HQ as a pair.

"One Punch Man!" Child Emperor exclaimed upon seeing Saitama, followed by him hurrying into the room. Although mature for his age, the boy couldn't help but be an excited fan of the top-ranked hero. Which, to be fair, did describe nearly everyone in the world, if not all. Furthermore, he was among the countless who saw the follicle-less hero as the perfect role model.

"Hey, Isamu." Saitama greeted as the young hero reached his side. Much like with Metal Bat, he used Child Emperor's actual name due to familiarity. However, only HE was allowed to use it. Not even King had earned the privilege just yet.

"Is it true? That monsters contacted you?" Isamu inquired.

"Yeah. One was named Mosquito Girl, and the other was Ground Dragon. Although, I don't know why he was called a dragon since he's a mole." Saitama confirmed.

"Why'd you ask?" King questioned, getting his attention. "Did you not believe the Association when they told you?" He added for clarification.

"Honestly, no," Isamu replied, sticking his hand into his pockets. "They've exaggerated and flat-out lied before about stuff concerning One Punch Man. All because they want the rest of us to help convince him to do something." He explained.

"He makes a good point." Tank Top Master joined the conversation as the rest of the group reached the table. "When Superalloy and I received the call, we were skeptical. But hearing it from One Punch Man dispels any doubts about the situation." He said.

"To think, monsters are reaching out to One Punch Man now. It's pretty crazy." Watchdog man calmly chimed in as he hopped into his usual seat.

"Well, they were just messengers. The person who wants to talk to me is their creator, Gene." Saitama informed them.

"Genus." Zombieman corrected. By this point, he and Metal Bat were over their escalating beef and were back in their chairs.

"Zombieman, you know a lot about this guy. What should we be worried about?" Superalloy asked while sitting down.

"Oh, please. DON'T get him started." Bad groaned, once again leaning back with his feet on the table. "Corporal Corpse over there honestly believes there's something to be concerned about. As if Saitama won't be able to shrug off EVERYTHING this guy can throw at us." He said.

"One more nickname and I'm shooting you," Zombieman warned before focusing back on Superalloy. "To answer your question, as I've been TRYING to stress to everyone else, Genus is a literal mastermind. Even if his approach is genuine and isn't a ruse, we can't be confident that we know how many levels his thinking goes. There's a reason he's been able to elude and outpace the Association and me. Yes, One Punch Man is who he is. But, and no offense, One Punch Man, you can't outsmart Genus. It's not possible." He stated.

"Nah, it's cool. I know I'm not the smartest one here." Saitama assured before pointing at Child Emperor. "That would go to Isamu or Metal Knight." He added.

"Would they be enough to outwit the doctor?" King inquired, curious to hear Zombieman's thoughts.

"It's possible. After all, Child Emperor is a prodigy." Zombieman said.

"Guys. I'm standing right here. You don't need to talk as if I'm not present." Isamu interjected, unsure why they weren't just speaking directly to him.

Shick

Ah, another member of S-Class has arrived. As everyone turned their heads toward the entrance, their curious sights were met with-

...

...The room turned cold. Everyone, even the experienced Silver Fang and Atomic Samurai, felt their bodies stiffen. It wasn't another small group of their colleagues nor a friendly face. The person who had arrived was the only female member of S-Class. The Tornado of Terror.

Now, the others weren't stunned because of social awkwardness. The kind you would see in a comedic setting about how boys and/or men don't know how to talk or interact with women. The other present members of S-Class were frozen in place because of the aura Tornado exuded. With only a furrowed brow and unwavering glare, she turned the atmosphere of the meeting room into an inhospitable arctic wasteland.

Normally, certain members, such as the aforementioned sword wielder and martial arts master, wouldn't be affected by Tornado's chilling effect on the room. Her usual state of being, as mentioned earlier by King, wasn't exactly chipper or joyful. Tornado always seemed annoyed, irritated, or flat-out pissed about something. As such, most of S-Class had grown accustomed to her prickly personality.

However, whenever something with One Punch Man came up, to be blunt, Shit. Got. Real. That cactus-like attitude of hers became uber-hostile. Objects around Tornado's person would begin to levitate either intentionally or not. And if you found yourself unlucky enough to be near her when this happened, there was a non-zero chance that you'd be killed by accident. Or on purpose, depending on if you were dumb enough to try and interact or speak with her.

No one in S-Class knew why this happened. They were aware of Tornado's fixation on One Punch Man, but the reason was a mystery. Most assumed it was a matter of pecking order. Blast, the consistently absent member, was Tornado's mentor and the second most powerful. Perhaps, due to his position as the head of S-Class, she believed One Punch Man should behave more like a leader.

Although, there was the other possible explanation that the rest subscribed to. Tornado hated the weak. To her, it was about being strong and nothing else, something she picked up from Blast. So, having someone like One Punch Man surpass them in strength and ability could be the source of her anger since all he did was basic training. A battle of superiority that One Punch Man couldn't care less about.

Yet, amidst all of this, King had a third hypothesis. Funnily enough, it didn't come to be with Tornado, but her sister, Blizzard. Admittedly though, it was HEAVY speculation and something that appeared in his mind during a laid-back session of late-night solo gaming. He truthfully didn't have any proof or evidence to support it, only observations of behavior between the sisters that could easily be explained as quirks that they shared due to being siblings.

Of course, in the end, all of this theory crafting and mental musing didn't matter. Regardless of the reason, Tornado was so consistently bothered by One Punch Man that no one wanted to be near her when they came together. But, in times like this, there was NO way to avoid being in close proximity.

So, everyone watched as Tornado made her approach. Despite being quite short and petite, almost resembling a child, this didn't make her any less intimidating. Regarding the other details of her appearance, she had long, bright green locks and vibrant eyes of the same color. Her attire was a set of black shoes and a matching dress of peculiar design. It honestly borderlines on being impractical.

After a few seconds, Tornado stood beside the seated One Punch Man. On the opposite side, Child Emperor backed away when she reached him out of concern for his safety.

"Hey, Tatsumaki." Saitama greeted, the only one unaffected by her aura. "Where's Fubuki? Don't tell me you made her go home." He asked.

SMACK

All of the other heroes felt their eyes shoot wide open. A few nearly jumped out of their seats from shock. With NO hesitation, Tornado immediately slapped One Punch Man as hard as she could when he finished his question. The least surprising thing about this was his lack of reaction since A. That slap did nothing and B. This was a typical interaction between them.

"WHY didn't you call me?" Tatsumaki inquired as she put her hands on her hips. "I thought we AGREED that if ANYTHING worth OUR time happened, WE would call each OTHER." She said, making sure to use as much emphasis as possible.

"Oh. That's what this is about." Saitama stated, only worsening her ire.

"WHAT ELSE WOULD IT BE ABOUT BALDY?!" Tatsumaki shouted, already up to her limit with his foolishness.

"I don't know. Every single time we meet, you have something to complain about." Saitama began as he raised one of his hands to start counting. "We don't spar enough. We don't go out on patrols. Why do you waste your time on King? Why does King spend so much time with you? If King gets to come over, I should too. What's so great about King's apartment? Mine's better." He listed.

"I don't like how often I come up..." King thought, a wave of despair and fear washing over him as it seemed he was in Tornado's crosshairs.

"THOSE TIMES ARE DIFFERENT!" Tatsumaki shouted in response while jabbing her finger into his chest. "You know EXACTLY why all of us were called! Don't play dumb!" She scolded.

"Even so, I don't get why you're mad. It doesn't make sense. Fubuki and I were only expecting mosquitos and a regular monster encounter. There was no way we could've known how things would play out." Saitama said.

That was a sound and logical statement One Punch Man just gave. However, Tornado couldn't give a hoot. She was steaming, and she wanted to let it out. So, that's precisely what she did.

Tornado unleashed a barrage of creatively worded insults and remarks at One Punch Man, who took them all with no reaction for nearly twenty minutes. Everyone else got something to eat and drink while watching this impressive display of Tornado's lung capacity. Fubuki eventually came to the meeting room with two more members of S-Class during this span. The explanation is that she purposefully waited in the lobby for the other heroes to warn them that her sister was likely having a tantrum in the meeting room, which she was.

Yet, despite their best efforts to wait for Tornado to tire herself, they weren't good enough. They arrived near the end of her shouting and got some food and refreshment like the rest. When the green-haired hero was finally through, she demanded the seat next to Saitama. Not wanting to be turned into a pancake on the wall, King abided without any resistance.

After she was seated and ordered some tea to help soothe her throat, Tornado sat quietly and sipped her beverage. Now that their ears weren't being assaulted, the others could take a headcount of who was there. In short, the list of S-rank heroes was almost complete. But, unfortunately, they were certain that two of their members wouldn't be arriving.

Regarding the heroes who entered with Fubuki, they were Flashy Flash and Drive Knight. Speaking of the former first, he was a master in swordsmanship and ninjutsu. Appearance-wise, Flashy Flash was of average height, possessed long blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, and wore an attire that was simplistic yet matched his hero name. Consisting of a dark-blue body suit, with armor plating in various places, topped off with a white cape for added flair and hairclips that resembled four-pointed stars.

Moving onto the latter, Drive Knight was a bit of an enigma. Robot or cyborg, no one could say definitively which he was. They'd seen him eat, such as now, but that wasn't enough to say for certain that there were organic components within him. Of all the perplexing things in this world, a machine that can taste and process food like a person was nowhere close to being the weirdest.

Furthermore, Drive Knight was immensely secret. Quite possibly the tightest-lipped hero in S rank and the Association at large. No one could tell what was on his mind, only that he was always thinking. The hero's personality and approach to any situation were tactical and methodical.

This did mean that, alongside the quiet demeanor, Drive Knight wasn't the most expressive person in the world. Ignoring the mask that covered his face, of course. He never showed much emotion in his speech or interactions with people. This added credibility to the idea that the hero was a full machine. But, again, that was only speculation.

Drive Knight's visage was equally mysterious. Long, spikey black hair sprouted from his head. As mentioned, a white mask with a small slit for vision concealed his face. Within that opening, a single red optic stared unblinkingly at whatever was around him. Body-wise, Drive Knight resembled a suit of medieval armor given life; the color was mostly black with a bit of gray here and there.

With these two accounted for, every member of the S-Class that would attend was here. The only exceptions were Blast, who NEVER showed, and Puri-Puri Prisoner. His absence was for reasons that cannot be mentioned. Trust me.

Although, if we're being truthful, there WAS one more member. But technically speaking, he never showed, either. In his place would be a stand-in. A means for him to communicate and interact with others if needed. But he could just as easily talk via transmission or otherwise, so there was RARELY a time when he felt compelled to offer a physical replacement for himself.

If anything, that last member, known as Metal Knight, was more than likely speaking with the Association's leaders about the current situation. As well as assisting with the examination of the capsule and its message.

Shick

Speak of the devil. As everyone was nearing the end of their food and drinks, except for Pig God, the entrance to the meeting room opened for what would likely be the final time. Entering the space were three men. The first, who led the trio, was an older gentleman named Sitch; he had gray hair and a rather large nose. The two behind him were his subordinates, Busho and Jinzuren, although most of S-Class didn't know or care about who they were.

However, there was an unexpected fourth person who the other men's bodies had hidden when they stood in the hall. As the group entered, S-Class was shocked when they identified this individual.

"SWEET MASK?!" Bad was the first to acknowledge the outsider. At least, that's how S-Class viewed him. The self-proclaimed gatekeeper of S rank. He was arrogant, even by some of the S-Class heroes' standards. Saitama was the only person in the room who had no issue with him or his personality.

"Calm down, Metal Bat." Sitch quickly spoke while raising his hand. "We have greater things to be focused on. We can't get rowdy-"

"It's alright." Sweet Mask interjected, stepping forward to take over the conversation.

The simplest way to describe this man would be the embodiment of the word idol. He had a beautiful face, gorgeous locks of blue hair, and a variety of talents, one of which was his capabilities as a hero. Overall, if Saitama didn't exist, he'd likely be the world's most beloved and famous person.

"Now, it's clear that all of you are astonished to see me here." Sweet Mask began, speaking with a calm and elegant tone.

"Pissed off is more accurate," Bad replied, adopting a sneer. "This is a meeting for S-Class. You know, the rank you're not?" He told him.

"Good to see your cleverness is still with you." Sweet Mask jested with a smile. As expected, this incurred a violent rage.

"I'LL TURN YOUR HOLLYWOOD FACE INTO A HORROR FILM IF YOU KEEP TALKING SHIT!" Metal Bat yelled at him with his weapon raised. His earlier hostility toward Zombieman helped to fuel his innate hatred for the celebrity.

"Hey, Bad," Saitama spoke, getting his attention. "There's no reason to get angry. If Sweet Mask is here, then this has to be pretty big. You know how concerned he is about the Association and its image." He told him.

Like a genuine miracle, Metal Bat's heated attitude was instantly cooled. Although annoyed, he sat back down and rested his weapon beside him.

"Thank you, One Punch Man." Sweet Mask said, sincerely appreciative of his assistance. "Now then, if no one else has further outbursts, we can proceed." He stated.

Giving it a few seconds in case someone wanted to say something, Sweet Mask was met with silence. With that confirmation, the meeting was underway. The table S-Class gathered around came to life. A myriad of lights and various technologies installed inside it was activated.

Not long after, a holographic projection appeared above the table's center. It was an image of a man with dark hair and glasses; only his head was visible.

"This is Doctor Genus," Sitch spoke, retaking the lead. "As you've all been informed, he's the founder of the House of Evolution. Two of his creations, Mosquito Girl and Ground Dragon, were the messengers sent to contact One Punch Man. The following message was stored in a device in the capsule he received. It is designed to connect to any television set effortlessly. We assume it was made this way so One Punch Man wouldn't have any issues playing it on the TV in his apartment. But, as you can all see, we've downloaded it and thoroughly examined its contents. We'll play it now for your convenience." He informed the heroes before setting the video in motion.

"..." For nearly a minute, Doctor Genus said nothing. He only stared into the camera, but you could tell his mind was busily thinking. "...Forgive the uncomfortable silence, One Punch Man. So many times, I've tried to plan how to speak to you in this message. Beside my desk, overflowing from the bin that rests there, is multiple papers that were balled out of frustration. No matter what I wrote, it always came out wrong. Too pretentious. Sounds like a marketing pitch. Or, the most common, the reason I've sought to contact you is getting buried in exposition and offshoots of the topic. So, I decided the only way to solve this issue was to begin recording and go from there.

Again, forgive me if I misspeak or don't fully describe the intent behind this outreach. I don't want to give the image of myself and my organization as shady and untrustworthy. I feel it is best to provide you with some history about myself to accomplish this. But, don't worry, I will only mention the necessary parts. As I've said, I don't wish to drown you in pointless exposition.

First and foremost, I am a Geneticist. At the risk of sounding egotistical, I am the best in the world. Ever since childhood, I felt humanity didn't realize its potential. Everyone was always so focused on trivial or irrelevant things. It was exhausting and infuriating. So, I dedicated my life to figuring out a way to perfect humanity and evolution. I wished to be the God of a new and better world. At least, that's what my mindset became as I isolated myself and focused on nothing but my research.

Eventually, I made my first significant breakthrough. I figured out how to fully alter and control one's genetics. With this newfound power of my design, I reverted my age, which was near its natural end, to my prime. I then went on to clone myself and begin my many researches and projects. All with the hope that my lifelong dream would be realized.

Then, one day, as my clones and I worked within our newest facility, we witnessed an unprecedented occurrence alongside the rest of the world. Now, for clarity and transparency, at this point, we were monitoring and observing the S-Class heroes. After all, they ARE the best humanity has to offer. Of course, this included you. Until that moment, although your resilience was impressive, it was widely known that your number one rank was due to the Association's founder giving it to you. But then, on that fateful day, the world watched you take down a monster with only one punch.

Like everyone else, we assumed it to be a fluke or miracle. Such a terrifying leap in strength and power only existed in fiction, not reality. Yet, you proved us all wrong. From then on, every single fight you had was over in a single strike. Somehow, this ordinary man had achieved a state of being comparable to a god. You became the perfect human being through only your hard work and efforts.

Before I go on, which I promise is not for much longer, I would like to apologize yet again. This time, for that last statement. If it was too creepy or unusual, I swear that wasn't my intent. I only wanted to stress the importance of your accomplishment. Truly, One Punch Man, you are a miracle of nature itself. You are, objectively, the greatest contribution to the study of evolution.

However, whether or not this development is only within traditional science has yet to be determined. That, One Punch Man, is the reason for this message. I don't want to clone you. I don't want to defeat or kill you and then examine your body. I want to work with you to understand the transformation's how and why. Of course, if you accept, there will undoubtedly be terms and conditions. I'll save you time; I agree to all of them.

Although, if you decide to reject my proposal, that's that. You won't hear from me or my creations again. You can even send the Association after us. We won't fight back. All of my ambition and grand desires are gone. Seeing you and what you've become humbled me. I'd have to be a fool to think I could somehow surpass literal perfection.

And, with that, I've got nothing else to say. Thank you for your time, One Punch Man. I hope to hear from you soon."

The recording was over. Everyone remained silent, each thinking about what they had heard. It was a lot to take in. Even Zombieman didn't immediately speak because, admittedly, he wasn't expecting such an honest message from the doctor.

Eventually, someone had to break the silence. However, only one person had the right to do that. The intended recipient of the proposal.

All eyes fell onto Saitama. His own were closed. At first, it was so he could focus on his thoughts. Now, it was to avoid seeing everyone looking at him. Still, he could FEEL it.

"Okay. No pressure..." Saitama told himself to remain calm. "I can't just say what I think about it; that'll cause an uproar. Everyone will react like: "What are you talking about?!" or "You have to say more than that!". Tatsumaki might even throw something at me. I think she could even send me flying through the wall if I got her angry enough. So, take it slow, and try to sound like a leader would." He decided.

With a slow exhale, Saitama readied himself. He opened his eyes and met the expectant gazes of his friends and colleagues.

"...Out of curiosity..." Saitama started, doing his best to piece together the best possible sentence. "How useful would Genus be to the Association? Is the potential reward good enough for the risk of this being a setup?" He asked.

"Ah. As expected, One Punch Man. Your mind is exactly where ours were when we first listened to the message." Sitch praised him.

"YES! GO, SAITAMA!" Saitama cheered for himself in his head. "But of course. Zombieman's spent his entire hero career hunting Genus down. He hasn't been doing that because he's an obsessed stalker. Apart from being created by Genus, the man's capabilities are dangerous if he's a villain." He said.

"See, bat boy?" Zombieman joined in. "THIS is how a hero SHOULD be thinking. You might want to pay attention." He advised.

"Pfft, Saitama's only saying that so you don't get miffed," Bad replied with a scoff. "Sure, if he weren't around, maybe Genus would be worth our attention. But he is. So, I say if the doc wants to talk, we have a proper sit-down. If it turns out to be BS, we'll get the pleasure of our leader showing us why he's at the head of the table." He told him.

"Really? This is the head? I thought that's where Sitch stood." Saitama pondered while looking down at the position of his seat.

"Easy there, Metal Bat." Superalloy stepped in. Like King, he often served as a mediator for S-Class due to his pleasant personality. "There's a reason One Punch Man's bringing up the risk. Think about it. Genus knows that there's no way we'd let our leader go in there alone. Maybe, if there is a trap, it's not for him. It's for us." He suggested.

"Even if that's true, what's the danger? One Punch Man will prevent us from getting injured or affected by whatever Genus has prepared. The moment something starts to happen, he'll move in the blink of an eye and deal with it." Flashy Flash pointed out.

"True, but remember, everyone, it's not just Genus we'd be dealing with," Isamu said, getting everyone's attention. "If you'll recall, one of his creations we know about is Mosquito Girl. An entity capable of controlling any mosquito species in the world. If Genus can make something like that, he could have another insect-based lifeform under his command. There are countless species across the planet whose bites and stings can't be felt. Only afterward, when the swelling begins, do you realize you've been targeted. Genus could use this as an opportunity to collect our DNA. He could make an army of S-Class replicants depending on how fast his cloning technology is. Even One Punch Man might have issues with a hundred Tornados and Kings attacking him simultaneously, let alone the rest of us." He told them.

"Holy crap, that'd be awesome." Saitama thought as he imagined that. "A hundred Tatsumakis. Would I even be able to hit them? Or would they bounce me around like a ping-pong ball?" He wondered.

"I have two questions." Drive Knight spoke, his gaze moving back to Sitch. "First, where is Metal Knight? I understand he's often focused on personal projects, but I assume he is helping with this matter somehow. Second, why is Sweet Mask here? Yes, his position in the Association is more than a hero. Furthermore, although remaining the top rank of A-Class, he could become S whenever he wanted. However, neither of these points explains his presence. Typically, he's more concerned about public relations than actual situations. So, what is the reason he's here? Is it solely for additional assistance should a fight occur?" He inquired.

"If I may?" Sweet Mask said to Sitch, offering to explain on his behalf.

"Go ahead." Sitch permitted.

"Thank you." Sweet Mask responded before continuing. "Regarding Metal Knight, your assumption is correct. Currently, he is sending multiple of his machines to investigate and survey the House of Evolution. We'll know everything we need and want within the hour, maybe even sooner. As for me, although I will happily lend my aid to One Punch Man in whatever way he needs, I am here, believe it or not, for PR reasons. Let's say things work out. There's no deception. Genus wants a sincere relationship with our leader and the Association. This would be the first time any hero or our organization would directly partner with a non-human entity. We must be on top of this and ensure the public is informed how we want." He explained.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Sweet Mask." Atomic Samurai began, barely looking over at him with a half-lidded gaze. "But don't you despise anything that isn't human? I've seen footage of you on the news obliterating monsters who dropped to their knees and started begging for their lives. And yet, suddenly, you'd allow an organization led by a man who makes non-humans to be considered a partner, maybe even an ally? I find that too jarring of a personality shift not to be suspicious." He said.

"You're right. I've always despised monsters. Moralless cretins who happily slaughter humans as if they're plucking flowers from a garden. They're nothing more than sociopaths with superpowers." Sweet Mask confirmed before gesturing to Saitama. "However, One Punch Man is our leader. Even more so, he is the perfect hero. His power alone is proof of that. So, if he decides there is merit in giving Genus and his creations a chance to change our perception of non-humans, I will follow him without question. He's never led us, the Association, or the masses astray. I find it impossible that suddenly he'd make a mistake." He told him.

"Holy crap. I don't believe it." Bad spoke in disbelief. "This is the first time you've ever said something that didn't make me want to knock your teeth loose." He admitted.

"Really? So, you agree then, Metal Bat?" Sweet Mask asked, unaffected by the remark.

"Of course. Even if Saitama weren't our leader, I'd still go with his decision. Ain't nobody got a better head on their shoulders. Of that, I'm sure." Bad answered.

"Now, hold on." Tank Top Master interjected. "One Punch Man still hasn't given us his official stance. All he did was bring up the worth of accepting Genus's invitation to meet." He pointed out before turning his attention toward their leader. "So, what do you think? Is your mind already made up?" He inquired.

Again, all eyes fell onto Saitama. But, unlike last time, he was ready for this. As they continued to talk, he gave Genus's proposal some more thought. Saitama wanted to do this. If Genus wasn't plotting anything and this was real, then maybe, at last, the mystery behind his powers could be uncovered. Genus could be the key to solving this.

So, with a cool smirk and a matching expression, Saitama returned everyone's gazes with his and told them:

"Let's go."