Fubuki scrunched her nose at Kizaru, then gently draped her fur coat over Tatsumaki, moving carefully to avoid waking her.
"Once she wakes up, let's head to City A and stay there for a few days."
Kizaru casually pulled Tatsumaki into his arms, adjusting his posture to make her more comfortable.
Asleep, Tatsumaki looked nothing like her usual proud, high-and-mighty self. Her petite frame curled up in Kizaru's embrace, both hands subconsciously clutching Fubuki's fur coat, inhaling the familiar scent as she drifted even deeper into sleep.
"What about the training camp?"
Fubuki hesitated.
Not because she thought the camp was more important than facing off against the alien conqueror Boros, but because she couldn't quite figure out what to do about it.
At first, she had doubts about the training camp's value. But by now, she fully understood how critical it was.
The only regret was that most of her team had already been eliminated. Even just one more day could have made a big difference for them.
"Let Saitama keep an eye on it. He might seem like a fool, but his strength is flat-out absurd."
Kizaru still felt it was a shame—if only the chat group allowed non-members to travel to other worlds, he would've dragged Saitama along to give Im a serious headache.
All that "800 years of world government dominance" nonsense—against overwhelming power, it was all just trash.
Then again, maybe it was better this way. Smashing the world government and Im with his own hands would be way more satisfying than relying on others.
At the rate his power was growing, it wouldn't be long before Kizaru could walk right into Mariejois with his head held high and see for himself just how strong Im really was.
Fubuki remained skeptical. In theory, both Kizaru and the bystanders had no reason to lie to her—but it was still hard to take the idea seriously after seeing how goofy Saitama acted. Believing that bald guy was incredibly strong wasn't easy.
"…Absurdly strong, you said?"
Tatsumaki stirred groggily in Kizaru's arms, raising her head with a dazed look. The way she looked half-asleep actually made her seem even cuter than usual.
"Nothing serious—we were just saying we're heading to City A for a few days, gonna stay at the Hero Association HQ. Wanna come with?"
Kizaru patted her head like he was petting a lazy cat.
Given her size, Tatsumaki really did feel like a big cat to him.
"City A… back to HQ? That works. I was just about to go report in anyway."
Tatsumaki sat up and stretched, her slim waist and soft little butt shifting against Kizaru's lap—an understated figure that was deceptively perfect.
Otherwise, someone like Kizaru—a shameless, lecherous flirt—wouldn't have lost sleep over her just because of her stubborn pride.
"Sis, your body's actually really nice…"
Fubuki said enviously, eyeing Tatsumaki's inhumanly slender waist. Though she herself was a curvy beauty, maintaining it took constant care and effort.
If she pigged out like Kizaru all the time, she'd have grown flab ages ago.
Tatsumaki, on the other hand—despite not having a monster physique like Kizaru—could eat anything and never change a bit. From childhood to now, she stayed exactly the same.
"W-What are you saying?!"
Embarrassed, Tatsumaki quickly bundled herself up in the oversized fur coat, wrapping her small frame tightly.
After a few moments, she snapped out of her shyness and shot Fubuki an irritated glare.
Truth be told, she was actually jealous of Fubuki's body—tall, curvy, glamorous. The kind of figure she dreamed of having.
"Alright, alright. I like both your bodies, no need to compare."
Kizaru grinned and pulled Fubuki into his arms as well. A lover of all beauties, he didn't discriminate—whether it was a sultry lady or a petite cutie, whether "flat to the world" or "heart of a giant," as long as they looked good, he was in.
The sisters rolled their eyes in unison, while Lily in the background blushed furiously, hands covering her face.
So spicy! This was the legendary "sister combo"! As expected of Lord Swift Flash!
"Huh? You want me to train them?"
When Saitama returned with Genos and heard Kizaru's request, he was momentarily stunned.
He had come hoping to test his luck and maybe get a chance to fight Kizaru—how did this turn into being asked to train other heroes?
This kind of opportunity was something many would kill for, but to a guy who hated hassle like Saitama, it was a total nightmare.
Just as he was about to instinctively refuse, it hit him—he still needed to build a good relationship with Kizaru. Only after they became friends could he ask for a sparring match.
"Alright, I guess I can… but I don't really know how to teach anyone."
Resigned, Saitama agreed, though inwardly he was unsure—his training regimen had already been rejected by Genos more than once. Even he was starting to lose confidence.
Was his "no air conditioning workout" method really that useless?
"Just have them follow your usual workout routine… well, tone it down. Use, say, ten percent of your intensity."
Kizaru instinctively activated his Observation Haki to assess Saitama's physical strength.
And was immediately hit with a flood of alarms from his Haki.
Even just standing there doing nothing, Saitama's threat level was more insane than a hundred Shanks put together.
If Kizaru hadn't undergone a massive power boost recently—strong enough now to crush even Whitebeard—he would've turned tail and run the moment he saw Saitama back before joining the Dimensional Chat Group.
"Ten percent, huh… got it."
Saitama scratched his bald head. Having a reference point helped him get a rough idea.
Genos, standing beside him, was visibly excited. His teacher was finally going to instruct others! This time, he was going to memorize every single word!
Meanwhile, Kizaru had finished informing the trainees and was preparing to head to City A with Tatsumaki and Fubuki to lie in wait.
Thanks to a reminder from a passerby, he vaguely remembered Boros—a decent opponent, definitely worth checking out.
The trainees, having already witnessed Saitama's insane running speed, had no objections to him filling in.
Though officially still a C-Class hero, anyone who could teach an S-Class hero clearly wasn't ordinary. Many figured it wouldn't be long before the Caped Baldy became the 18th S-Class hero.
They had to take advantage of the chance to learn from him while they still could.
"We're going by helicopter?"
Tatsumaki crossed her arms, staring unhappily at Kizaru. Her childlike face was full of defiance.
At some point, the once-proud girl had started becoming softer—and picking fights over the most pointless things.
"Ah, would you rather drive? That's fine too, but… I don't know how."
Kizaru stroked his chin. It had been decades since his original timeline; he honestly couldn't remember how to drive.
Boating, though? That he could do. He had actually trained at the Navy Academy.
"Then should I drive?"
Fubuki offered instinctively—only to get a sharp glare from Tatsumaki.
"Last time you went to City A, you were carried in his arms!"
Tatsumaki muttered under her breath. She definitely wasn't jealous. She just thought it wasn't fair.
Whatever Fubuki had, she should have too. And vice versa.
If psychic powers could be shared, knowing Tatsumaki, she would've given Fubuki half—after all, even with just half her strength, she could still crush every enemy without breaking a sweat.
"Pfft!"
Kizaru couldn't help but laugh. Before Tatsumaki could protest, he scooped up her small body and perched her on his broad shoulder.
"A princess carry with one arm's a bit tricky. So how about the throne of the shoulder instead?"
He raised an eyebrow, watching as Tatsumaki—obviously thrilled—pretended to be only slightly satisfied. Then he lifted Fubuki in a full princess carry.
If Miss Tatsumaki wanted to be carried to Hero Association HQ, who was he to say no?
Fubuki didn't mind either. In the past, Tatsumaki had always been too overbearing, and Fubuki's "big sister complex" never had the chance to show.
Think about it: if she wasn't a siscon, how else could she repeatedly tolerate Tatsumaki meddling in her life—or constantly try to compete with her?
Tatsumaki was S-Class Rank 2, and Fubuki chose to stay in B-Class just to be Number 1.
So now, seeing Kizaru spoil Tatsumaki, Fubuki wasn't jealous—she was thrilled. It felt like her favorite ship had finally become canon.
At the same time, as Kizaru flew toward Hero Association HQ in City A with both sisters, the HQ itself had just confirmed the death of the great seer Shibabawa.
They were holding yet another emergency meeting regarding the potential unknown disaster.
"Ugh, another meeting? If I have to sit through one more of these, I'm gonna puke."
A younger executive yawned, clearly annoyed before the meeting started.
Even with the looming threat of planetary destruction, not every executive had the drive to take things seriously.
"Well, it is called the Hero Association. Meetings are kind of the point."
An older exec chuckled dryly. But as soon as the stern-faced Madam Perus entered the room, everyone quickly straightened up.
"By reviewing all past disaster incidents, we've found that the frequency and severity of monster-related disasters are both steadily increasing…"
"As of now, the Association has handled over 64 Dragon-level threats—of which only four were fully contained…"
"In summary, we believe the catastrophic event predicted by Shibabawa may very well be a theoretical God-level disaster!"
…
Once the report concluded, the executives began whispering among themselves.
They'd suspected it for a while—but seeing the term "God-level disaster" officially brought to the table chilled them to the core.
Even the S-Class heroes they viewed as monster-level threats couldn't handle such a thing. A threat that had only existed in theory until now—a God-level disaster!
"Assuming a god-level disaster really does erupt within six months… with the Association's current strength, are you saying that even if we mobilized all S-Class—no, all heroes—it still wouldn't be enough?"
Madam Perus's expression was grim. Faced with a crisis that could wipe out not just humanity, but the entire planet, even someone as wealthy as her wouldn't stand a much better chance than the average citizen.
"A B-Class hero can handle a Tiger-level threat alone, but even if every B-Class hero worked together, they couldn't take down a Demon-level threat. The same principle applies to A- and S-Class heroes. In theory, even all S-Class heroes combined wouldn't be enough to handle a God-level disaster."
The staff member giving the report was clearly a pessimist. He didn't even bother distinguishing between all S-Class and all heroes in general. After all, if even S-Class couldn't handle it, throwing in A, B, or even C-Class heroes would just be sending them to die.
"That's… not necessarily the case."
Just then, a high-ranking executive who usually kept quiet spoke up, hesitating slightly.
At the far end of the conference room, William was quietly sulking. But when he saw who was speaking, he couldn't help but shoot the man a sharp glare.
Both he and this man were local power players—tycoons with strongholds in their respective cities—but the man was seated right next to Madam Perus, a far cry from William's position at the fringe.
Still, it wasn't the wealth gap that bothered William. What irked him was that the mission to deal with Swift Flash should've been the responsibility of B-City's officials.
But this guy, leveraging his power and influence, had forced the assignment onto William. After a few miserable attempts to deal with Borsalino, William had nearly lost his mind.
"Mr. Darkman, if you know something, please speak freely."
°°°
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