Inside the highest conference chamber of the Hero Association, the air was thick with tension. When the massive steel doors finally creaked open, three senior executives entered one by one, their faces grim.

“Apologies for keeping you waiting,” said one of them, exhaling heavily.

“We couldn’t locate Metal Knight or Blast, and all attempts to contact them failed. Therefore, we’ll proceed with this meeting without them.”

The bespectacled man—his expression stern, voice steady—swept his gaze across the assembled S-Class heroes before continuing.

“The crisis Earth is about to face… is a catastrophic one—something that could very well annihilate humanity itself. My name is Sitch, a senior executive of the Hero Association. I’ll explain the current situation to you all. I’m sure many of you are wondering: what kind of disaster could possibly require every S-Class hero to be summoned here?”

But before he could finish his sentence, a sharp voice interrupted him.

“Enough already! You talk too much!” snapped Tatsumaki, the green-haired esper floating lazily in midair with her arms crossed.

“If there’s something important, just say it. Why bother with all this pointless preamble? Whatever it is, if I’m here, that’s already enough to handle it.”

Sitch didn’t get angry. Instead, he paused for a moment, composed himself, and spoke again, his tone heavier.

“Tatsumaki… not even you might be able to deal with what’s coming. The great seer Shibabawa-sama has passed away—but before she died, she left behind one final prophecy.”

The entire room fell silent.

Sitch’s voice echoed through the chamber, every word deliberate. “In her final vision, Shibabawa-sama foresaw a calamity unlike anything in recorded history. She said the Earth will face a crisis far greater than anything humanity has ever experienced. Not even during Dragon-level disasters did she ever use the words ‘this is bad’—but this time, she did.”

A heavy silence swallowed the room.

“In other words,” Sitch continued quietly, “the crisis she foresaw may very well surpass even Dragon-level threats. It could be… a God-level disaster—something capable of eradicating the entire human race. And according to the prophecy, it will happen within the next six months.”

— — —

Among the heroes sitting near the back, Saitama tilted his head, scratching it idly.

“Hey, Kyūjō… who’s this Shibabawa-sama person?” he asked curiously.

Zenin Kyūjō, resting his chin on his palm, replied in a lazy tone that made it sound like he was explaining something obvious.

“She’s a famous psychic on Earth—her predictions have always been one hundred percent accurate. She’s correctly predicted multiple large-scale monster attacks on the Association before, and not once has she been wrong.”

He sighed lightly. “So yeah, it’s no wonder everyone’s on edge after hearing her last prophecy.”

Saitama’s eyes gleamed with sudden interest. “So… that means an enemy stronger than a Dragon-level monster might appear soon?”

The spark of excitement in his voice was impossible to miss.

Having worked alongside S-Class heroes for some time, Saitama already understood the Association’s power classification system. He knew exactly what a “Dragon-level” threat meant—and the idea of something beyond that clearly thrilled him.

Kyūjō gave a small nod, though deep down, he murmured silently to himself: Well… half-right. But I already killed that one.

Across the room, Tatsumaki glanced in Kyūjō’s direction, something stirring in her memory.

A monster beyond Dragon-level… does he mean that alien leader from before? she thought, frowning slightly.

Boros, wasn’t it?

She had witnessed part of that fight—the one that ended with Kyūjō utterly destroying a being of galactic might. Even now, the thought made her shiver.

Just how strong is this man…?

— — —

Meanwhile, Metal Bat—who’d been gripping his baseball bat the entire time—stood up with an irritated grunt.

“So you’re sayin’ this crisis’ll hit sometime in the next six months? Which means even you guys don’t know exactly when, right?”

Sitch nodded. “Correct. But within that time frame, every hero must stay on high alert. We must be ready for battle at any moment. This is a threat unlike any before.”

He swept his gaze across the room. “From now on, we’re asking all S-Class heroes to remain within Association facilities. If you need anything—supplies, training space, accommodation—our staff will provide it.”

Metal Bat let out an angry snort.

“You gotta be kidding me! Six months stuck in this place? I skipped my little sister’s piano recital for this meeting!” He slammed his bat on the floor with a loud crack.

“I don’t care when that monster shows up—when it does, I’ll just bash its skull in! But I’m not sittin’ here for half a year waitin’ around. Screw that!”

Without waiting for permission, he turned on his heel and stomped toward the exit. A few other S-Class heroes stood as well, murmuring in irritation.

From his seat, Bang (Silver Fang) sighed deeply.

“Good grief… high-ranked heroes or not, they all act like rebellious children,” he muttered, shaking his head.

— — —

Suddenly, a thunderous explosion echoed from outside. The floor trembled violently, followed by the piercing wail of alarms.

“The building’s under attack!” someone shouted in panic.

“Evacuate now!”

“How the hell—?! This is the Hero Association headquarters!”

“Don’t tell me… the God-level threat’s already here?!”

Chaos erupted instantly.

— — —

While everyone else panicked, Zenin Kyūjō merely sighed, his expression calm to the point of boredom. He turned to the cyborg beside him.

“Genos,” he said flatly, “there’s a Dragon-level monster hovering above the building. Go deal with it. Quick in, quick out.”

“Understood, Sensei!” Genos replied, launching himself through the ceiling in a burst of orange flames.

Kyūjō rose from his seat, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulder. His gaze swept across the frantic heroes, and his voice carried clearly over the commotion.

“Everyone, may I have your attention for a moment?”

The noise subsided as heads turned toward him.

“Regarding Shibabawa-sama’s prophecy… I might have a slightly different interpretation.”

That single line silenced the room.

Though the S-Class heroes were a notoriously chaotic bunch—each with eccentricities and volatile tempers—they all understood one thing: when someone like Zenin Kyūjō spoke, you listened.

If there was even the slightest chance he had a way to mitigate the coming disaster, none of them would ignore it.

Sitch exhaled, visibly relieved. He knew exactly who this man was—Zenin Kyūjō, The Light of Z-City, the terrifyingly powerful hero who had already saved the world multiple times.

He still remembered the meteor incident, the way Kyūjō had calmly obliterated a celestial object that could’ve wiped out an entire region.

If Kyūjō said he had new information, then for Sitch, it was as good as fact.

— — —

The truth was, Zenin Kyūjō already knew what was about to happen long before the meeting began.

He hadn’t come here out of curiosity for the briefing.

He’d simply wanted to meet the rest of the S-Class heroes in person—to see with his own eyes the people whose names echoed through this world.

But now that nearly all of them were gathered in one place, a thought crossed his mind.

Why not take advantage of the situation?

If they were all here, he might as well mobilize them for something more productive.

Something that actually mattered.

And that, of course, was the elimination of the Monster Association—the organization festering deep beneath the Earth’s surface.

Sure, he and Saitama alone could destroy it easily. But the monsters down there numbered in the thousands. If only the two of them acted, some would inevitably slip through the cracks.

However, if the entire S-Class joined the operation… they could wipe the infestation out completely.

Kyūjō didn’t plan to burden them with the heavy lifting. He and Saitama would handle the core threat themselves.

He just needed the others to make sure none of the monsters escaped alive.

— — —

All eyes turned toward Zenin Kyūjō as he began calmly explaining the truth—the existence of a massive underground fortress beneath Z-City: the hidden base of the Monster Association.

The moment the words left his mouth, Tatsumaki’s emerald-green eyes widened in shock.

“Kyūjō… are you saying those monsters actually formed an organization to imitate the Hero Association? That they’re planning to destroy us?”

Her voice rose an octave as she continued, “And you’re telling me there are more than ten Dragon-level monsters gathered there? Plus a leader whose power rivals that cosmic emperor from before… what was his name—Boros?”

Before the conversation could continue, Saitama, seated up front, tilted his shiny head slightly and scratched his cheek.

“Wait, hold on… ‘from before’? You guys fought some cosmic ruler? Boros? Who’s that? When did this happen?” he asked blankly.

Kyūjō froze for a split second, his face tightening. Then, forcing an awkward smile, he waved dismissively.

“Ah—no, no, you misheard, Saitama! Tatsumaki’s talking about… uh, a game we played yesterday at my place. Yeah, a character in that game had the same name, ‘Boros.’ Totally unrelated!”

He coughed lightly, quickly redirecting the topic. “Anyway—Saitama-kun, everyone—the important thing now is that we eliminate the Monster Association.”

— — —

The S-Class heroes exchanged skeptical looks. Some murmured among themselves, unsure whether to believe him. But when they saw Tatsumaki’s serious expression, a few began to reconsider.

The only one who still looked unimpressed was Atomic Samurai. Crossing his arms, he stood and gave Kyūjō a sharp, condescending glare.

“You’re just a B-Class hero,” he said coldly. “How could you possibly have information like that? Ten Dragon-level monsters? A so-called monster king stronger than any of them?”

He scoffed. “Have you even fought a single Dragon-level creature before? Do you even know what kind of power you’re talking about? Maybe think before running your mouth.”

But before he could finish, Tatsumaki floated upward, the air around her distorting with psychic pressure. Her voice was icy.

“I, Tatsumaki—S-Class Rank 2—will vouch for Kyūjō,” she declared. “Everything he said about the Monster Association is true.”

Crossing her arms, she scanned the entire room, her gaze sharp and uncompromising.

“And the rest of you—don’t get cocky! If anyone’s too scared or too lazy to come, then leave. We don’t need you.”

“You—!” Atomic Samurai jabbed a finger at her furiously, but before he could lash out, Bang (Silver Fang) placed a calm hand on his shoulder and whispered.

“Let it go. You’ll only embarrass yourself. You’re no match for her, trust me. If that girl decides to toss you around in front of everyone, it’s your reputation that’ll die, not hers.”

Atomic Samurai clenched his jaw but stayed quiet.

— — —

Sensing the growing tension, Sitch quickly stepped forward to defuse it.

“That’s enough,” he said firmly. “Regarding the Light of Z-City—Zenin Kyūjō may still be listed as B-Class, but I can personally vouch that his strength rivals anyone here.”

He looked around the room with steady eyes. “Because of that, I trust the information he’s shared. Still, we must proceed with caution. This Monster Association threatens the entire human race. We need more concrete data before launching an assault.”

Tatsumaki rolled her eyes, clearly irritated by all the bureaucratic talk.

“If you want to waste time discussing logistics, be my guest. But don’t blame us when, by the time you’re done talking, the monsters are already on the surface.”

She turned to Kyūjō, her tone sharp but determined. “Let’s go, Kyūjō. We don’t need them. The two of us can handle it.”

Kyūjō smiled faintly and shook his head.

“You’re not wrong,” he said calmly. “We could finish this ourselves. But with just the two of us, some of them might escape.”

He straightened up, his tone firm yet composed. “So here’s the deal—everyone’s coming. If you don’t want to fight, fine. Just make sure not a single monster escapes from the exits.”

Without waiting for a reply, Kyūjō turned and strode toward the doors, Tatsumaki and Saitama following close behind.

Behind them, the remaining S-Class heroes exchanged glances. They might have been annoyed by the pair’s arrogance, but none of them voiced any real objection.

After all… they were heroes. And fighting monsters was what heroes did.

— — —

Monster Association Headquarters — Underground Z-City

Deep beneath the earth, over a thousand meters below the surface, a massive throne carved from obsidian loomed in the center of a colossal underground hall.

Seated upon it was a towering figure with dark violet skin, his body covered in jagged cracks like dragon scales. Long, whip-like horns jutted from his skull, capable of slicing through anything in their path.

His eyes glowed a menacing yellow, and around his form coiled smaller serpent-like creatures—living extensions of himself.

He was Monster King Orochi, once a human, transformed through countless experiments conducted by Psykos—his so-called prophet and creator.

From hundreds of failures and countless sacrifices, she had finally birthed this being—the perfect monster. A true King, whose power rivaled even the cosmic overlord Boros.

The air in the underground hall was suffocatingly tense. Dozens of monsters of varying shapes and sizes knelt before the throne, all bowing their heads in reverence to the creature seated above them.

From among them, Psykos, her body cloaked in black robes, stepped forward. Beside her floated one of their Dragon-level lieutenants—Eyesight, the grotesque many-eyed monster she controlled telepathically.

“My Lord Orochi,” she said with a low bow, “the Monster Association has reached its peak. The time has come to challenge the Hero Association and claim dominion over humanity.”

Before she could continue, Eyesight suddenly shuddered, every one of her enormous pupils trembling violently.

“Something… strange…” she rasped. “What’s happening…?”

Orochi lowered his head slightly, his piercing gaze fixed on her.

“What do you mean, Eyesight?”

The monster hesitated, her many eyes dilating in alarm.

“My surveillance eyes on the surface—they’re being destroyed… one after another… at incredible speed. Whoever’s doing it isn’t human… nor any ordinary monster.”

She swallowed hard, her grotesque body quivering. “Some of the destroyed eyes belonged to Association monitoring drones… but the rest… came from around Z-City. I’m certain of it—they’ve found us. The heroes are on their way here!”

The entire chamber fell silent. Then, a low murmur rippled through the crowd—monsters whispering to one another, not in fear… but in excitement.

Eyesight began laughing, her monstrous grin twisting grotesquely. “Heh… Hehehehahaha! So, the battle begins at last, Lord Orochi! Let’s see if these humans truly deserve to call themselves rulers of this world—or if it’s finally time for monsters to reclaim it!”

Orochi slowly rose from his throne. The ground quaked beneath his massive feet as waves of power radiated outward, distorting the air like a raging storm.

A cruel smile spread across his jagged face.

“Very well,” he rumbled, his deep voice echoing through the cavern. “Let the world witness… the beginning of humanity’s annihilation.”

A thunderous roar tore through the underground stronghold, shaking the earth itself. All around him, the monsters howled and cheered in frenzy, their cries merging into a single, deafening chorus that heralded the dawn of war.

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