Sunlight peaked through drawn curtains. Their warmth touched the surface of a smooth wooden floor. Further along the beams, deeper into the room they entered, the sunlight reached something else. A slumbering man was lying on a futon, comfortably covered in pajamas and a blanket.
This man was like any other, trying his best to live a nice life. All he needed was enjoyment and excitement. Alas, no matter what he tried, the man struggled to find these things in recent times. Why, you ask? The man was too strong.
Although his physicality might have you believe otherwise, this man wasn't average. Sure, his muscles weren't the bulkiest. His fists weren't gargantuan. And his overall presence in any given space wasn't commanding in the slightest.
Still, this man held the power of God in his fists. No. I'm being serious. This isn't an absurd joke, I swear. This one man, who looked like any other, could make the fiercest Devils in Hell shake with fear. A single flick of his finger could be enough to topple a building!
Yet, if this were true, you may wonder why this man is living like this. If he was as strong as I claim, shouldn't he be the king of the world? A harem of beautiful women at his beck and call. The finest foods in the land. All the riches one could ever desire.
Sure, if he was a jerk. But this man wasn't so scummy. At the end of the day, regardless of his strength, if you asked him what he wanted, it was to enjoy life. To have fun. To feel the thrill of obtaining success in the face of failure.
Sadly, such a life had become a dream. So far, the man had not encountered anyone who could survive more than one punch. What he'd give for-
Knock Knock
...Someone...was at the door? That's...amazing. The man's humble apartment resided in an abandoned district of City Z. There wasn't even a scurrying rat anywhere to be found in this area. So, who could be outside?
Knock Knock
Whoever it was, they had manners, at least. Only two knocks per attempt. That second batch came exactly one minute after the first. Even if the man weren't expecting anyone, ignoring them would be impolite.
"Hold on!" The man called while rising from his futon. "I'll be there in a second!" He added.
Slowly, the man escaped the confines of his cozy blanket and stood on his feet. After a long stretch and yawn, he proceeded to his door. When the man reached it, he peered through the peephole. What he saw surprised him, yet nowhere near as bad as it would have for others.
"A monster?..." The man wondered, amazed by the entity on the opposite side of the door. "Uh, hey." He greeted while pulling it open.
Standing there was a nearly eight-foot cycloptic creature adorned in gold armor with a cape. It had an impressive musculature, spiky pink hair, pointed ears, light blue skin, and...whoa.
"Good morning, sir." The creature spoke. Its voice indicated that it was female. However, something else also accomplished this. "I was hoping to speak to you. However, it's quite difficult for me to stand out here since the building wasn't designed for someone of my height. The mere idea of entering your residence is laughable, although, it's not impossible. Still, I think we'd be more comfortable out here. What say you?" She stated, ending with a question.
After quickly moving his gaze upward to look at the non-human woman rather than her...assets, the man took a moment to think. This was the first time something like this had ever happened before. Well, no, that's not entirely true. The man once conversed with a crab monster, but it wasn't the same.
This woman, whatever she was, was being very considerate. She wasn't yelling at him, threatening his life, or giving him an ultimatum like "Hand over your apartment, or I'll kill you!". So, whether out of curiosity or gratitude for her demeanor, the man decided he'd hear her out.
"Alright." The man said before gesturing to his apartment with his thumb. "Give me a few minutes to get dressed." He requested.
"Of course." The woman replied. "However, before you go, may I ask your name? It'll be easier for us to talk once we're introduced." She requested.
"Saitama." The man responded. "And you?" He asked.
"Boros." The woman answered.
"Huh, cool name." Saitama complimented her. "I promise I'll be quick. Won't take five minutes." He told her as he headed back inside.
When the door was shut, and Boros was left to stand there, her mind dwelled on what Saitama had said.
"Cool name?" Boros pondered. For some reason, the compliment stuck with her. "I...don't think anyone's ever said that. They're either blissfully unaware or are petrified with fear. It's...refreshing." She thought as she patiently waited for Saitama's return.
Meanwhile, At Hero Association HQ...
C-Class. B-Class. A-Class. S-Class. No, these weren't different rooms in a school, though I wouldn't blame you if you thought they were. This was the ranking system the Hero Association used to sort the capabilities of its heroes.
C-Class was essentially the "every man". Ordinary men and women who wanted to try their luck and skills at the exciting life of hero work. However, to be in C-Class meant a constant presence in the community. If a week passed without ANY reported activity from a C-Class hero, they'd be removed from the registry, meaning they would need to retake the examination.
B-Class is where true heroes usually get their start. Talented and skilled persons who, through training and hard work, would gradually ascend the ranks. Keep your eyes on any B-Class hero; they'll likely be in A-Class within a year.
Speaking of A-Class, this is where the strong became known. These heroes could handle damn near anything. Their abilities and skills were vast and varied. Rest assured that if your city or community is in trouble, the A-Class will save it.
S-Class. The rank of Gods. Unjokingly, every member of S-Class was ridiculously impressive. Master Swordsman. Marital Arts Master. Unrivaled Esper. The Strongest Human. The list goes on, but do you need to know more? S-Class heroes existed to save the world. That's all there is to it.
Hundreds of heroes across all ranks. So many people are doing their part to make the world safer and better. Of course, the Hero Association had them all on file like any proper organization. If there were ever a time when a specific hero needed to be examined or referenced, they would be in the Association's system.
Yet, the database did not show a bald man with a yellow suit, white cape, red gloves, and red boots. There was barely anyone in the hero registry that came close to such a description. So, Busho and Jinzuren's assumptions were true. They didn't know who this man was. No one did.
This...was impossible, right? Surely. I mean, so WHAT if Lady Boros saw this bald man take down a Dragon-Class threat with one punch? She was an alien! Maybe...her vision worked differently! Yeah! That made sense!
No. No, it did not. However, Busho and Jinzuren were looking for any excuse or reason to doubt what Lady Boros saw. Unfortunately, the rational parts of their brains knew there was no denying it. There was someone out there with godly strength that the Association was entirely unaware of. Both men's minds were plagued with the worries of what such an individual could do.
Back In City Z...
Saitama casually strolled down the street. His hands were in his pockets. His lips were pursed and whistling. All in all, he was having a good time.
It was so rare for Saitama to have an interesting start to any day. Usually, the routine went as such: He woke up. He ate breakfast. He brushed his teeth. He watered his cactus. He watched TV. He read a few chapters of his manga. He had dinner. He had a bath. He went to sleep.
The only time when something unexpected occurred was when a monster suddenly attacked a city. Or, occasionally, when Saitama went shopping or was just out and about, a random creature would jump from the shadows and try to ambush him. Yet, in either scenario, he always defeats the monster with one punch. So, while these encounters weren't anticipated, they weren't particularly interesting.
But now, as Saitama walked through the empty streets of City Z, he was in the company of Boros. A seven-foot-ten mono-eyed woman from the stars. At the very least, this was special. Also, Saitama was whistling and not speaking because he was waiting for Boros to initiate the conversation. After all, she was the one who wanted to talk.
"...Forgive the silence." Boros finally spoke, starting with an apology. "I've...never done this before. Normally, it's other people who want to talk to me. I only speak with my elites. Well, on a personal level, that is." She said.
"Elites, huh?" Saitama replied, intrigued by that.
"Yes. Geryuganshoop. Groribas. Melzargard. They were the first members of my crew. Unquestionably, they are the most loyal. If I were to be blunt, they're like a family to me. I'm certainly closer to them than my parents." Boros shared.
"Bad relationship with the folks?" Saitama guessed.
"I...don't know if I would consider it bad..." Boros began, trying to find the right words. "The people on my planet see reproduction and the upbringing of offspring as a way to continue one's self should they be killed. Immortality through a bloodline." She explained.
"Seems pretty cold," Saitama commented.
"I suppose. Truthfully, I didn't know other species were so different until I explored the universe." Boros admitted.
For a moment, silence fell between the two again. During this period, Boros had a realization.
"...What the Hell am I doing?" Boros questioned in her mind. "I came here to discuss a fight between myself and Saitama. Instead, I'm wasting his time. I need to get straight to the point, so I don't-"
"Hey, Boros," Saitama spoke, catching her by surprise.
"Yes, Saitama?" Boros responded.
"Are you important?" Saitama asked, now looking at her. "You're wearing gold armor. You've got a cool cape. And the way you talk is very official-sounding. Like you're a queen or something." He described.
"Many have called me a queen and perceived me as royalty. However, there is one title that all know and refer to me as. Dominator." Boros answered.
"Sounds intimidating," Saitama replied, meaning it as a compliment. "Are you strong, then?" He inquired.
"The strongest in the universe. I've visited every populated planet throughout countless centuries. I've waged wars in which I fought alone. Entire fleets of cruisers with planet-destroying capabilities have fallen by my hand. None are my equal. All lose to my might." Boros told him.
After hearing this, Saitama came to a full stop. When Boros noticed, she looked at him, only to discover he had a new expression. It was a mixture of excitement and amazement. Yet still, his face barely changed.
"Really? Are you serious? The strongest in the universe?" Saitama questioned, wanting to be sure he heard her correctly.
"Indeed. All have recognized my superiority where combat is concerned. My physical strength, reflexes, stamina, endurance, resilience, power, and other qualities are in a league of their own. I've traveled across every galaxy and system, hoping to find someone to fight me, only to be met with disappointment each time." Boros confirmed.
"Holy crap! That's awesome!" Saitama exclaimed, only to realize how wrong that sounded. "Er, let me clarify. I'm not saying that the lack of opponents is awesome. I said that because you and I have that in common! I can't find anyone to fight either!" He explained.
"Oh? No one on Earth can hold themselves against you?" Boros asked. She knew the answer but still wanted to be sure.
"Not a single person," Saitama sighed while folding his arms. "Everything I punch dies in one hit. It doesn't matter what it is. Super-Villains. Monsters. Mutants. Robots. Cyborgs. Sentient Objects. You name it; I beat it. Fighting used to be so much fun. There was an effort. The fear of losing. The exhilaration of giving it your all in the hope of winning. But now, it's gone. Every day is more boring than the last. What used to bring me so much joy is now like a curse. In my pursuit of strength, I never considered what it'd be like if I got TOO strong. Now I am, and it sucks." He stated.
This time, it was Boros who stared at Saitama. Her eye was wide, and she had an actual expression for the first time in so long. It was identical to Saitama's from a minute prior. The seer had gone beyond her expectations. Saitama wasn't just as strong as her; he was EXACTLY like her!
"Boros?" Saitama spoke, snapping her from her daze. "You okay? Did I say something weird? Did I overshare?" He inquired.
"No. Not at all, Saitama." Boros quickly dismissed. "I was just left speechless by your words. In a good way, though. Your struggle with your strength is the same as mine. I've yearned for so long to find ONE lifeform in the universe to fight me. Now that I've met you, I think I have." She said.
"...No way," Saitama muttered in disbelief with widened eyes. "Boros, are you suggesting?..." He trailed off, wanting to hear her say it.
"Yes, Saitama. I am." Boros confirmed with a nod and a smile. GASP. Another expression! "You and me. One on One. We fight to our hearts' content. Of course, we'll do it somewhere safe, nowhere near any civilians. I'll agree to any terms you have. Whatever it takes to make this fight happen." She told him.
For a few seconds, Saitama simply stared at Boros. Was she truly an alien? Or was this Amazon-esque woman an angel from Heaven?
"...Hold on." Saitama began, a thought coming to mind. "Okay. So. This is going to sound SUPER offensive. But still, I have to say it. Boros, are you SURE you can take a punch from me? I don't want to kill you. Seriously. I'm not exaggerating. If I hit you, it's going to HURT. We're talking NUCLEAR levels and then some." He asked, IMMENSELY worried for her well-being.
Upon seeing and hearing Saitama's concern, Boros...felt something? It was brief and felt like a surge of heat. Did she experience a hot flash? Did the temperature suddenly rise? Whatever it was, Boros made a mental note to mention it to her elites.
"Saitama, while your worry is appreciated, I assure you, I'll be fine," Boros answered, maintaining her smile. "I've felt the force of weaponized black holes trying to tear me apart. Admittedly, one of my elites is capable of such power. So, I can confidently say that your punches will not kill me. I do hope they hurt, but not because I'm a masochist. Solely so that we each get the fight we deserve." She said.
"Phew. What a relief." Saitama sighed with a smile. "I'd hate to kill you. For MANY reasons, obviously. But mainly because you're the first person I've met who can understand what it's like to be so strong. I feel like that makes us connected, you know? Like we can empathize with one another and share our frustration." He told her.
Again, Boros felt an instant sensation of warmth. What the Hell? What was causing this? Was Earth's atmosphere or environment doing something to her? Geryuganshoop would need to run some tests.
"I feel the same way, Saitama," Boros responded. "Together, we will renew our love for battle! We will ignite the fires of passion! Alone, we are miserable. But as partners, we can rediscover the joy of living! We will take back what life has taken from us! Excitement! Happiness! Fun!" She proudly proclaimed.
"Yeah!" Saitama exclaimed, getting pumped up, only to realize something again. "Oh, wait, we need to sort the details, right? Like a location, the time, rules, maybe." He listed.
"Ah. Yes. I nearly forgot." Boros replied, having gotten lost in her speech. "Well, if it's no bother, you can come to my ship later so we can discuss the specifics." She suggested.
"Sounds good." Saitama agreed, having no issues with that. "Does tomorrow work for you?" He asked.
"That it does," Boros answered. "Shall I come to escort you? We just arrived on Earth, so I might not be the best at giving directions." She inquired.
"Sure. Same time tomorrow. Only then, I'll be dressed." Saitama responded with a joke, managing to make her smile again.
"Very well then. Until tomorrow, Saitama." Boros bid farewell.
Following that, Boros took to the sky. Saitama watched in renewed astoundment as she flew away, surrounded by purple energy.
"Wow...I'm getting to fight an alien..." Saitama said to himself before he turned around and headed home. "I bet I'm the first person to do that. I wonder if our fight will be a historic event?" He wondered aloud as he walked.