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

"You're awake."

Kaito walked to the bedside, looming over Mosquito Girl, who was tightly restrained.

In the dim light, the three long scars across his face appeared sharper—cold and unforgiving.

Mosquito Girl stared up at that unmistakable face, her heart nearly leaping out of her throat.

King!

The strongest man on the surface!

Why was he here?

Why her?

Did this mean... he was with that bald monster?

A storm of fear surged through her mind, a cyclone of terrifying speculation.

She had briefly awakened yesterday, but her memory was foggy. She didn't recall crashing into a ramen shop—or being picked up by Kaito.

"Looks like you've recovered well."

Kaito's eyes swept over her body, calm as if discussing the weather. "Your blood sac is gone. Limbs shattered. But your life? Saved. Consider yourself lucky."

Mosquito Girl said nothing, only stared, wide-eyed and trembling. Her blood-red eyes flicked between his face and the glass of crimson liquid in his hand.

"The bald man who did this to you," Kaito continued, voice almost casual, "seems quite interested in you. Or rather... in that little lab you came from—'Evolution House,' was it?"

Her entire body jolted.

Kaito caught the reaction. His voice remained smooth, measured.

"He's out there right now, 'searching' for clues. Tell me, if he found out you were here..."

He leaned closer. His shadow engulfed her face.

"What do you think would happen?"

"No! Don't!"

Mosquito Girl broke.

She knew what "searching" meant to that man—it meant annihilation. Total, effortless destruction.

She could already see him kicking in the door with that vacant look—and reducing her to a smear with one punch.

The Evolution House's base? To him, it was a sandcastle. Even the mighty Asura Rhino Beetle wouldn't last a second!

Overwhelmed by raw survival instinct, she screamed:

"Lord King! Please! Don't hand me over! No! Please—I don't want to die! I don't want to see him again!"

Tears mixed with cold sweat slid down her cheeks.

Ding!Detected Demon-Level Monster Mosquito Girl generating deep fear toward host (associated with Saitama).Deterrence Points +100!

Kaito chuckled inwardly. "Saitama is the ultimate scarecrow."

But on the outside, he kept his expression unreadable.

"Obey me from now on, and I'll persuade him... well, the bald guy... not to kill you."

"I-I'll do anything!" she sobbed. "Please protect me... please!"

"Good," Kaito said. "From now on—you're my maid."

Mission success. Step one of Operation: Domesticate Mosquito Girl—complete.

Then—

A loud, awkward gurgle... came from her stomach.

It echoed in the otherwise silent room.

Kaito looked down at the cup in his hand.

He held it out, its rim nearly touching her lips.

"Drink some."

Mosquito Girl had already been eyeing the dark red liquid, her thirst almost maddening.

It had to be blood, right?

Her mouth parted instinctively, and she took a cautious sip.

Then—

"Pfft—COUGH!!"

She spat it all out, gagging, her pale face twisting in disgust.

"What—what the hell is this?! It's sour! It's gross! I want blood! Fresh, warm blood! Human! Animal! Anything! Not this!"

She shouted like a child betrayed, forgetting entirely who stood before her.

Kaito's eyes went cold.

He didn't need to do anything—his presence alone shifted.

From within him came a low, thunderous rumble.

BOOM—! BOOM—! BOOM—!

Emperor Engine: Minor Accomplishment.

The sound was denser, heavier, and sharper than it had been at the ramen shop.

The walls seemed to vibrate. The windows hummed. The air itself compressed.

Dark red energy—thick, molten, alive—rose from around Kaito like liquid flame.

His face, lit by the hellish glow, seemed not human but godlike.

Mosquito Girl shrank back in terror, unable to move under the crushing pressure.

The light faded from the room.

Only Kaito's eyes remained—burning cold within the red storm.

He leaned down, slowly, his voice dropping to a bone-deep growl.

"Picky eater?"

Every word hit her like a hammer.

"Do you want me to drain the blood from your body so you can drink it yourself?"

"No... no no no!!"

She frantically shook her head, tears pouring once more—but this time, they came from utter submission.

"I-I was wrong... I'm sorry... Lord King! The tomato juice is good... I'll drink it! I'll drink it now!"

Without waiting for Kaito to issue another command, Mosquito Girl desperately stretched her neck, pressing her soft lips tightly against the cold rim of the cup. She forced herself to gulp down the thick, chilled liquid—despite its nauseating taste.

She knew it wasn't blood.She hated the taste.But her fear overrode everything.

In truth, mosquitoes don't solely feed on blood—plant sap and other nutrients could sustain them. But to Mosquito Girl, this was like replacing a gourmet feast with rotten broth. Each swallow triggered an instinctive revulsion in her throat.

But she didn't dare stop. Didn't dare pause. Didn't even dare flinch.

The man before her—shrouded in a suffocating, molten-red aura—looked like he could break her soul with a glance. Maybe even more terrifying than that bald demon.

So she drank.

Mouthful after mouthful.

Ding! Coercion forced the target to submit. Deterrence Points +20!(Fear sustained by humiliation-driven obedience.)

Kaito watched, satisfied. The points rolled in once more.

The oppressive aura began to fade. The crimson energy receded like a tide. Even the echoing heartbeat of the Emperor Engine began to quiet—though it never stopped entirely.

He took the empty cup from her trembling lips. The tomato juice was gone.

His gaze fell on her face—pale, sweaty, and coughing from how quickly she had forced it down.

"Good. Remember this feeling."

His voice was flat again. Devoid of anger, devoid of warmth.

"Survival... begins with absolute obedience."

And with that, he turned to leave.

"K-King... Lord King..."

Her voice—wet, weak, broken—called out.

She gathered her last shred of courage.

"Blood... I need just a little... for my wounds... to recover... to regain strength... please..."

Kaito's footsteps stopped at the threshold.

But he didn't look back.

The room fell into deep silence—except for the slow, ominous rhythm of his heart, still pulsing like an ancient war drum.

Mosquito Girl lay still, her breath ragged and shallow under the crushing weight of that silence.

Then, his cold voice returned, slicing through the stillness like a blade.

"That depends on your performance."