One Punch Man: "The hell!! Did I transmigrate as King?"

The Hero Association branch in F City was shaped like a Water Cube.

Its exterior shimmered under the sunlight—an entire shell of deep blue glass curtain walls that glinted with cold, sleek precision.

Today happened to be the entrance examination day.

The plaza in front of the building was packed.

Applicants from across the region formed a winding line that stretched from the Association's main entrance all the way to the fountain at the edge of the plaza. A conservative estimate put the crowd at over a thousand people.

"This is too exaggerated…" Saitama muttered, standing at the end of the line. He tiptoed, trying to see just how far the stream of applicants extended. "How long is this going to take?"

Genos, ever calm, responded with precision:

"Teacher, based on my calculations, at the current pace, we'll be waiting approximately 4 hours and 37 minutes to enter the examination hall."

"Over four hours?!" Saitama's face fell instantly. "I thought I could make it for the lunch special bento…"

"Teacher, don't worry." Genos opened a bag. "I bought one on the way here. That way, you won't be hungry during the exam and risk underperforming."

Saitama's eyes lit up. "Genos, well done!"

Watching the exchange, Kaito smiled faintly.

He stepped up and patted both of them on the shoulders.

"Follow me," he said. "I have connections."

"Huh?" Saitama blinked. "Isn't that kind of unfair? Everyone else is waiting in line…"

Despite his words, his feet moved on their own, already following Kaito.

Genos, of course, followed without hesitation.

Kaito led the two through the crowd, heading toward a quiet VIP channel along the side wing of the Association building. The entrance was guarded by security personnel.

After all—he was Kaito.

Currently operating under the identity of "S-Class Hero, Rank 7 – King, the Strongest Man on Earth."

If he couldn't even cut a line, then what was the point of being an S-Class hero?

According to the Hero Association's internal guidelines, using personal authority to assist friends with queue-jumping was perfectly acceptable.

They passed through without issue—Kaito's face and signature scar were all the verification needed.

Inside, the contrast was striking.

The interior of the building was vast and open, fully air-conditioned, with polished floors reflecting everything like a mirror. A subtle blend of disinfectant and high-end fragrance hung in the air.

A massive holographic screen floated above the central atrium, cycling through hero rankings and live disaster warnings from across the country.

Kaito's eyes scanned the hall and locked onto the reception desk.

Three female staff members stood there in uniform, assisting visitors.

The Hero Association's uniform design, it had to be said, was… meticulously engineered.

The tight black skirts traced their figures perfectly, and their suit jackets were cut to leave their white dress shirts straining across the chest.

Kaito frowned slightly.

"That old man Murata must have some side business influencing the uniform designs…"

He strode toward the receptionist on the far right—a young woman with shoulder-length, curly brown hair, and easily the most "ample" figure.

"Could you arrange assessments for my friends?" Kaito removed his baseball cap and spoke to her directly.

She looked up—and froze.

The documents in her hands slipped onto the desk with a soft clatter.

Her eyes widened. Her lips trembled.

"K…K-King-sama?!"

"Yes, it's me."

Kaito tried to offer a friendly smile.

Unfortunately, King's naturally severe face, paired with the iconic scar, only made the expression look vaguely threatening.

The receptionist paled.

She shot to her feet, her shirt pulling tighter from the sudden movement.

"Of course! I'll arrange it for you right away! P-please wait just a moment!"

Kaito sighed and rubbed his nose.

"I really was just trying to be nice…"

The receptionist scrambled at her keyboard, her fingers flying.

"S-so… who are your friends, sir?"

She glanced past him—and paused when her gaze landed on Saitama's blinding bald head.

So bright.

"This is Saitama, and this is Genos," Kaito said, nodding to each.

"They're both very promising hero candidates."

"Understood!" she said quickly, typing even faster now. "I'll open a special testing channel immediately!"

She picked up the internal line and spoke a few urgent words. Less than a minute later, a middle-aged man in a dark blue Association uniform came hurrying over.

"Mr. King! It's an honor!" the man said, bowing slightly as he extended his hand.

"I'm Kentaro Yamamoto from the Testing Department. I hear you brought two candidates?"

Kaito nodded and stepped aside, gesturing to Saitama and Genos. "They're the ones."

Yamamoto's eyes briefly lingered on Saitama, his expression flickering with confusion.

Bald, cheap yellow jumpsuit, completely ordinary.

Is this really someone King personally brought in?

Still, out of respect, he didn't question it.

"This way, please. The special testing room is ready."

Outside the testing area, Kaito stood by a large floor-to-ceiling window in the corridor, hands in his pockets, idly observing the outside world.

More specifically, he was watching the Hero Association's female staff scurry about—tight uniforms, flowing hair, confident strides.

"Tsk…" he muttered. "These uniform designs really do know the secret to staying popular…"

His gaze lingered a little longer as a blonde staffer passed by.

The graceful curves wrapped in the black suit skirt swayed gently with the click of high heels—a visual rhythm that matched the elegance of the moment.

A truly pleasing sight, Kaito thought, half-lost in his musings.

Just then, rapid footsteps echoed from behind him.

"King! King!"

The voice was light and childlike, yet brimming with excitement.

Kaito turned around, puzzled.

He scanned the corridor but saw no one.

Just as he furrowed his brows in confusion, he felt a soft tug at his pant leg.

He looked down.

A small boy with a round face and a bright yellow backpack was grinning up at him. His eyes sparkled with joy.

"…Warabe Tei?"

Kaito raised an eyebrow, instantly recognizing the child.

This was no ordinary kid.

This was Child Emperor—S-Class Hero, Rank 5. A bona fide child prodigy.

Despite being only ten years old, he was one of the Hero Association's top minds—responsible for countless strategic victories against Dragon-level threats.

The devastating combat formations, the calculated risk forecasts, the arsenal of black-tech gadgets…

Most of it? Child Emperor.

Any single device he designed could boost a regular hero's combat power exponentially.

Yet for all that genius, what impressed Kaito most wasn't the tech, the brains, or the accolades.

It was this:

Child Emperor was his number one fan.

More specifically, the number one fan of "King."

The legendary, world-ending, anime-screaming, overly dramatic move—"Inferno Unrivaled Blazing Wave Cannon."

The very name had been coined by this kid, after witnessing a battlefield that Saitama had accidentally decimated.

Child Emperor, in awe, filled in the blanks with his imagination and immortalized it with a title so absurdly chuunibyou, even anime protagonists would blush.

It wasn't just admiration.

It was reverence.

And honestly, Kaito had to admit: if Saitama silently accounted for 90% of the legendary feats behind "King," then the remaining 10%—the branding, the myth-making, the relentless PR?

All of it was Child Emperor.

Without him, "The Strongest Man on Earth" might never have been more than an awkward misunderstanding.

But thanks to this bright-eyed fanboy genius, that title now stood tall, unquestioned.

Patreon Rene_chan, kindly support