In City Q, Garou’s hand clamped tightly around Watchdog Man’s neck. Without hesitation, he swung the hero upward and flung him through the air as if tossing a lifeless doll.

The canine hero’s body spun several times before slamming into the asphalt with a brutal crash. His costume was torn, his body battered from head to toe—he could no longer stand, let alone fight.

Having finally avenged his previous defeat and bested Watchdog Man, Garou didn’t linger.

He knew full well that the Hero Association had declared him its top priority—every radar, every satellite, every S-Class hero was now watching for him.

And among those S-Class heroes, there were still some whose power, even after all his growth, Garou dared not challenge yet.

Heroes like the man known as King, the so-called “Strongest Hero Alive.”

And of course… the bald man with the codename One Punch Man.

Even now, the mere memory of that single punch from a few days ago made Garou’s body tremble.

That pain—

it was beyond anything imaginable.

Just one casual strike from that man, and Garou had nearly been torn apart, his entire existence snuffed out in an instant.

Because of that experience, he hadn’t set foot near City Z ever since.

He wasn’t ready to face that monster again.

— — —

Over the next half month, chaos followed wherever Garou went.

He defeated twenty-three Class-A heroes in a row. Some of them possessed power bordering on Dragon-level, like Sweet Mask.

Not stopping there, he even brought down four S-Class heroes:

Rank 13 – Flashy Flash

Rank 10 – Pig God

Rank 9 – Drive Knight

Rank 8 – Zombieman

Among them, the battle with Flashy Flash was a major turning point.

Garou not only matched his incredible speed but actually learned from him—replicating his unique footwork and elevating his own combat tempo to another level entirely.

However, the most exhausting, infuriating battle was with Zombieman.

The man’s nearly infinite regenerative ability drove Garou insane.

His raw strength wasn’t anything special. Though Zombieman possessed solid endurance and hid countless weapons within his body, none of that could match Garou’s overwhelming evolution.

But the regeneration…

That regeneration was a nightmare.

Even after Garou crushed his heart, Zombieman would crawl back to life mere moments later.

Driven by frustration, Garou smashed, tore, and dismembered him thousands of times—yet Zombieman would always regenerate, piece by piece, as though nothing had happened.

It was an endless cycle of futility.

Even Garou, the self-proclaimed Human Monster, eventually found himself gasping for breath.

In the end, utterly drained, he decided to give up.

He dragged over a massive chunk of rubble and dropped it over Zombieman’s mangled body before walking away.

Technically, it was a victory—but a hollow one.

If he’d kept fighting, Garou might have collapsed first from sheer exhaustion.

— — —

From afar, Zenin Kyūjō watched the figure of Garou fade into the distance. His gaze was calm yet thoughtful.

“The limit he’s broken through… it’s still nowhere near the level of Saitama.”

Perhaps Garou didn’t realize it yet, but that battle with Zombieman had changed him.

His endurance, regeneration, and combat growth had reached new heights. His physical power and speed had skyrocketed.

By Kyūjō’s calculations, Garou’s stamina should’ve only lasted a single day and night at most.

But reality defied logic—Garou had fought continuously for an entire week.

If their battle hadn’t taken place in such a remote area, the Hero Association would’ve long since surrounded and bombarded the place.

And if Garou had continued…

No, he still wouldn’t have been able to kill Zombieman—

but he wouldn’t have truly tired out either.

That was the most terrifying part.

Kyūjō, who had been tracking Garou’s growth closely, understood what was happening better than anyone.

Garou’s body had evolved beyond simple durability.

It was adapting, growing, learning.

Each fight, each wound, each moment of survival pushed him further—his strength increasing endlessly with no sign of plateau.

If Saitama’s broken limiter had granted him infinite power, allowing him to defeat any foe regardless of logic…

Then Garou’s broken limiter made him a creature of evolution—growing stronger through battle itself.

As long as he wasn’t killed in one blow, and as long as the power gap wasn’t impossibly vast, Garou would continue to evolve…

until he surpassed his opponent.

Saitama had no such “process.”

No matter who stood before him, he simply erased them from existence with a single punch.

But Garou’s path was different. It was growth through pain, through willpower, through struggle.

Kyūjō folded his arms, deep in thought.

Even he—the wielder of Starforce, capable of devastating planetary energy—had to admit: he had no real method to kill something like Zombieman.

If anything, the only logical option would be to hurl that immortal freak into space—

the farther from Earth, the better.

Perhaps only that bald monster, Saitama, could truly erase such an abomination.

Kyūjō exhaled softly.

So that’s the difference between them, he mused. The nature of their “limiters.”

Saitama’s limiter was shattered outright—an impossible phenomenon beyond reason.

Garou’s, however, was comprehensible.

Through constant battle, by challenging both his physical and mental limits again and again, he forced his body to adapt—to naturally break through every restriction imposed by nature.

Of course, such a process was unimaginably dangerous. It could take years… or it could end in death at any moment.

And for someone like Zenin Kyūjō, who already stood near the peak of power in this multiverse, there were few threats left that could push him further.

Besides Saitama’s killing intent, there was nothing—no blow, no technique—that could truly endanger him.

And that was the problem.

The limiter… it might exist in every living being across every world.

But so far, there was no proof that anyone else had ever truly broken it.

…Or perhaps there was?

Kyūjō paused, eyes narrowing slightly.

He remembered someone—

a figure from his childhood.

A man whose very existence embodied the concept of surpassing one’s limits.

Someone kind, pure, and endlessly determined—

a warrior who fought to protect his world, his friends, and his ideals.

A man who faced countless foes, each one overwhelmingly stronger than himself, yet still rose to meet them every single time.

Son Goku.

Not the mythical Sun Wukong, but Goku—the legendary Saiyan from the Dragon Ball universe.

A fighter whose growth knew no ceiling. The harder the battle, the stronger he became.

Fighting, breaking limits, and evolving—these weren’t side effects for him. They were the essence of his being.

From the start, his enemies had possessed power enough to destroy planets. Yet Goku caught up to them, surpassed them, again and again.

Every time he hit a wall, he shattered it.

The battle against Frieza was his greatest turning point—

the moment a low-class Saiyan transcended legend and became a Super Saiyan.

But that wasn’t the end.

Super Saiyan 1.

Then 2.

Then 3.

Then 4…

Super Saiyan God.

Super Saiyan Blue.

And finally, Ultra Instinct—a state that transcended thought itself.

Kyūjō could still remember watching that form during the Tournament of Power arc back on Earth, long before his multiversal journey began.

Was that his true peak?

Maybe in the story… but not in spirit.

Because for Goku—and those who admired him—

there were no limits.

He was Son Goku.

You really think someone like him hasn’t broken his biological limiter already?

Kyūjō chuckled softly at the thought, shaking his head.

Perhaps he didn’t need to obsess over the limiter anymore.

Because ultimately, the key wasn’t found in biology or training—

but in something much simpler:

Willpower.

The courage to stand, to struggle, and to rise again, no matter the odds.

That was the true meaning of surpassing limits.

With a faint smile, Zenin Kyūjō turned away from the fading horizon. He decided to stop tracking Garou for now and return to City Z.

It had been a while since he’d gone home.

And for some reason… he missed that annoying bald guy.

“Garou… keep growing stronger,” he murmured. “I’ll be waiting for our final battle.”

Yes—

even as a self-proclaimed mini-boss of this world, Zenin Kyūjō wished to be defeated by Saitama someday.

Because right now, Garou wasn’t even close to worthy.

No opponent in this world—or any other—could truly push him toward that level.

Even if Garou were to defeat Kyūjō one day… even if he ascended to godhood itself…

He still wouldn’t be able to scratch a single hair on Saitama’s head.

— — —

City Z — Zenin Kyūjō’s Territory.

Zenin Kyūjō had finally returned home.

His quiet house, which had been kept clean and well-maintained by his first disciple, Genos, looked almost too immaculate. A faint smile crossed Kyūjō’s lips as he whispered, “Truly… what an exceptional student.”

Sensing no one inside, he calmly activated his Infinity Perception System.

In that instant—within a single breath—the entire city unfolded before his mind’s eye. Every street, every heartbeat, every moment in City Z appeared as if painted directly into his consciousness.

There he saw that annoying bald man—Saitama—who, instead of returning home lately, had decided to freeload at King’s apartment, playing video games and eating free meals as if it were his natural habitat.

Meanwhile, his diligent disciple Genos was still up in the sky, patrolling tirelessly above the city.

He wasn’t just hunting monsters or suppressing bizarre crimes anymore—he was chasing down common criminals, cleaning up the streets, protecting the weak.

At this point, Genos had practically become the “guardian spirit” of City Z.

Watching from afar, Kyūjō stood in silence, a faint thought surfacing in his mind.

Perhaps… it’s time I give Genos something in return.

If one day he truly fell in battle against Garou—

if his body and soul were erased in that destined clash—

could he bear to leave his disciple behind, carrying grief and vengeance alone?

No.

That was not the ending he desired.

With a quiet resolve, Zenin Kyūjō rose into the air, his figure glowing faintly as he shot toward the sky to find Genos.

The moment he appeared, Genos’s sensors detected him instantly. The cyborg’s mechanical eyes flickered with emotion—something between relief and reverence.

“Sensei… you’ve returned.”

Zenin Kyūjō smiled gently and nodded.

“Genos, come with me to City A. I just remembered something… about the enemy you’ve been searching for.”

The words made Genos pause in shock, his eyes widening briefly before he bowed his head.

He didn’t question it.

He didn’t need to.

When it came to his master, trust was absolute.

With a low hum of thrusters, he ascended and flew beside Zenin Kyūjō.

“How’s your energy output? Still stable?” Kyūjō asked lightly as they cut through the clouds. “Do you need me to carry you the rest of the way?”

Genos shook his head, his tone respectful but firm.

“No need, Sensei. Dr. Kuseno recently upgraded my internal power system. Dr. Genus also reinforced my bio-mechanical network.”

“At present, my body can absorb solar energy directly—like a plant. I can recover any lost power simply by flying under sunlight.”

Kyūjō let out a soft laugh. “Oh? That’s quite the convenient evolution.”

But Genos lowered his head humbly. “It’s still far from perfect. Compared to you, Sensei—and to Master Saitama—I remain insignificant.”

Kyūjō only smiled again, though his eyes seemed distant, contemplative.

— — —

City A — Hero Association Headquarters.

The two landed gracefully atop the skyscraper that served as the Hero Association’s core.

Waiting there was Richard, one of the organization’s highest officials—a man introduced to them once by Blast himself.

At that time, Blast had left him a single instruction:

“Use every resource the Association possesses to support this man without question.”

Now, standing before Richard, Zenin Kyūjō spoke without preamble.

“Do you know where Metal Knight—Bofoi— is currently located?”

Richard frowned, shaking his head. “Metal Knight’s whereabouts have always been classified—even to us. We’ve never been able to trace his actual base or laboratory.”

“I see…” Kyūjō replied calmly. “Then what if you issued a formal emergency call? Would he respond?”

Richard hesitated for a moment before answering. “Possibly. But even if he does, the one that arrives will just be a remote-controlled drone. None of our sensors have ever detected any biological signature from him. It’s certain—he operates purely from afar.”

Kyūjō exhaled softly. “As expected.”

“Then send me every record of Metal Knight’s past appearances—every location logged by the Association since his first sighting.”

Though confused, Richard didn’t argue. He immediately called his staff, ordering the full archive to be transferred to Zenin Kyūjō’s personal terminal.

Within moments, a stream of encrypted data flowed into Kyūjō’s handheld device.

Standing on the edge of the rooftop, the man skimmed through the immense file.

It took him less than two minutes.

When he finished, his expression hardened slightly, eyes narrowing.

Four locations.

Four possible bases of operation.

Without another word, he turned to Genos, nodded once, and lifted into the air again. The two of them shot upward like twin comets, vanishing into the sky above City A.

Watching them go, Richard’s brows furrowed deeply. For a long while, he said nothing.

Then, with a heavy breath, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

A single contact.

A number known to almost no one—not even most S-Class heroes.

He hesitated only a second before pressing “call.”

The line clicked.

“…Blast?” he began carefully. “It’s Richard. Something’s come up.”

He quickly relayed everything—the arrival of the “Light of City Z,” Zenin Kyūjō, the presence of Genos, and their declared intent to track down Metal Knight themselves.

When he finished, his tone darkened.

“Blast, you know as well as I do—Metal Knight is technically still one of ours. He’s never openly turned against humanity. Are you truly going to just let this happen?”

Silence.

No sound came from the other end.

The seconds dragged, the static hum deepened. For a moment, Richard thought the signal had dropped—or worse, that Blast had simply ended the call.

Then, finally, a calm, deep voice spoke.

Only one sentence.

But that one sentence made Richard’s entire body freeze.

“No. If that man chooses to confront Metal Knight… then it’s Metal Knight who has the problem.”

“I trust him completely. Zenin Kyūjō will never become an enemy of humanity.”

A brief pause—then Blast’s tone dropped, almost amused.

“And as for ‘stopping him,’ Richard… you’re giving me far too much credit. If I stood before him as an enemy, he could kill me instantlbegi

The call ended.

The rooftop wind howled quietly, rustling Richard’s coat as the color drained from his face.

Somewhere far above the clouds, two streaks of light tore across the sky—

one of human warmth, one of mechanical fire—

on their way to uncover a truth the Hero Association had feared to face for years.

The confrontation between Zenin Kyūjō, Genos, and Metal Knight…

was about to begin.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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