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

When Kaito returned to the living room, the rich aroma of hot pot had already filled the entire apartment.

Saitama stood by the bubbling pot, casually stirring with chopsticks, while Genos—precise as a sushi master—was slicing the wagyu into paper-thin pieces.

"King! Come quick!" Saitama waved enthusiastically. "The first piece of meat is for you!"

Kaito froze in place.

In the original timeline, Saitama's obsession with food was legendary. Now here he was—offering the first piece of wagyu?

Genos noticed his hesitation and leaned in slightly. "Teacher said… he wants to thank you for your hospitality."

A strange sense of guilt stirred in Kaito's chest.

He knew his current life—this luxurious apartment, the hero allowance, the respect—was built on the foundation of Saitama's invisible achievements.

He took the chopsticks, smiled, and gently placed the beautifully marbled slice into Saitama's bowl. "No, the first piece should go to our guest. Thank you for coming."

Saitama's eyes widened slightly. Then he beamed.

He dipped the slice into the beaten egg, then popped it into his mouth.

For a second, time seemed to freeze.

"…Teacher?" Genos asked cautiously.

Then—

"It's delicious!!" Saitama burst into tears, eyes glistening. "So this is what real wagyu tastes like! It's completely different from the discounted meat at the supermarket!"

Kaito blinked.

He hadn't expected the reaction to be so… dramatic.

Genos, on the other hand, frowned faintly, chastising himself. How could I not have noticed my teacher's craving for gourmet food sooner?

"King," Saitama suddenly leaned forward and grabbed Kaito's hand, his expression more intense than ever. "From now on, you're my best friend!"

"Teacher!" Genos exclaimed in disbelief. "What about me?!"

"You're just… an annoying guy," Saitama replied flatly, eyes still fixed on the meat slices bubbling in the pot.

Kaito nearly choked on his tea laughing.

At this point, Saitama hadn't yet joined the Hero Association. Technically, Genos wasn't even his disciple yet.

And now… all it had taken to win the Demon King's loyalty was a slice of beef.

The three of them sat around the pot, eating with abandon.

Though Genos was a cyborg, Dr. Kuseno had thoughtfully added a taste and digestive system so he could enjoy meals alongside humans. Even so, he refrained from touching the beef, only sampling cabbage and sipping beer in quiet companionship.

By the time Saitama reached for his fifth helping of meat, Kaito noticed something odd.

"…Saitama, why haven't you touched the cabbage?" he asked.

"Huh?" Saitama paused mid-bite, cheeks puffed with wagyu. "It's not that I don't like it… I just usually eat too much of it."

He scratched his bald head sheepishly. "It's cheap, you know."

Kaito fell silent for a moment.

He remembered Saitama's original lifestyle: his crumbling apartment, his obsession with discounts, skipping heating and cooling to save on utilities—all under the guise of "training."

"…Actually," Kaito said, setting down his chopsticks. "I have a suggestion."

Both Saitama and Genos turned to look at him.

"Saitama, since you enjoy good food this much… have you ever thought about improving your life? I mean, really improving it. Like… joining the Hero Association?"

"Hero Association?" Saitama blinked, a large piece of beef halfway to his mouth."…Is that, like, a gym? Or one of those insurance scam things?"

Kaito: "…"

He almost coughed up his drink.

Genos stepped in smoothly, ever-serious. "Teacher, the Hero Association is currently the world's largest formal hero organization. It was established three years ago after Mr. Agoni's grandson was saved during a monster attack. As gratitude, Agoni funded the creation of the Association, with branches in every major city."

Kaito observed Saitama closely.

The bald man tilted his head, listening blankly. A drop of soy sauce clung to the corner of his mouth like punctuation.

Kaito leaned forward. "To put it simply—anyone who passes the physical and justice assessments can become a registered pro hero. And the most important part…"

He deliberately paused for effect.

"…Professional heroes get a monthly salary, plus mission-based bonuses. Whether it's dealing with petty criminals or disaster-level threats, there are corresponding payouts."

"Salary?!"

Saitama's chopsticks clattered onto the table.

His eyes were wide as saucers, as if someone had just whispered ancient treasure into his ear.

Saitama suddenly clutched his head with both hands, freezing in place like he'd turned to stone. A thick, visible black aura radiated off him like steam from a pressure cooker.

"Pro… professional heroes… get paid?!"

His voice shot up an octave, trembling with disbelief and overwhelming regret.

"I've been fighting monsters for three years! Three whole years!! Do you know how many wagyu hot pots I've missed?! How many discounted air conditioners?! How many— Aaaahhhh!!!"

Watching Saitama crumble under the weight of his lost wagyu dreams, Kaito's lips twitched. He had to bite down on his tongue to keep from bursting out laughing.

This moment was too important.

A pivotal step in his grand plan.

Bringing Saitama into the Hero Association wouldn't just pull this tragically broke powerhouse out of poverty—it was also Kaito's key to unlimited growth.

Sure, keeping Mosquito Girl locked up like some bloodthirsty upgrade machine had been a fruitful venture. But even a golden goose had a limit. Fear had a ceiling. The more he scared her, the more she adapted. Like skin growing numb from repeated pinpricks, the fear boost was plateauing.

If he wanted to keep leveling up his "Deterrence Engine," he needed new sources—multiple sources. Monsters. Villains. Catastrophes. And the best part?

He didn't need to risk his life for any of it.

Because he had Saitama. A living, breathing "Get-Out-of-Apocalypse-Free" card. Demon-level? Dragon-level? Even God-level threats that could wipe cities off the map?

Let them come.

As long as the bald guy stood next to him, Kaito could crank up his "Emperor Engine," radiate terror, and farm Deterrence Points in peace—without a single hair of danger. Not that Saitama had any hairs to begin with.

Kaito cleared his throat, slipping back into a composed tone. "It's not too late to join, you know."

Saitama went dead silent.

He slowly turned to Genos, eyes wide with the crushing weight of three years of unpaid effort."…You. Did you register?"

Genos shook his head. "No. I didn't want to be bound by any organization."

Saitama suddenly snapped back to life, his aura shifting from despair to burning ambition."Then let's do it together! Genos, if you're willing to go with me…"

He gripped the cyborg's shoulder with solemn intensity.

"I'll officially accept you as my disciple!"

Genos's pupils expanded like camera shutters. His entire frame trembled, radiators hissing with steam. "R-Really?! To follow in Teacher's footsteps… to uphold justice side-by-side?! Let's go immediately!"

Saitama nodded with conviction. "Yeah! Let's register tonight! I want that salary—I mean, I want to serve justice!"

"Hold it!"

Kaito lunged forward to stop the two hot-blooded idiots before they could fly off into the night.

He pointed at the dark sky outside the window, then at the wall clock.

"It's already evening. The Association's testing and registration centers are closed. There's no rush. Tomorrow morning, I'll take both of you personally—smooth process guaranteed."

As an S-Class Rank 7, his word carried enough weight to breeze through the bureaucratic red tape.

Saitama and Genos finally calmed down, glancing outside at the glowing city lights, realizing that running out now would accomplish exactly nothing.

Saitama slumped onto the couch, full from hot pot and drained from emotional whiplash."…So what do we do now?"

Kaito's lips curled into a sly grin. "How about a few rounds of games to relax? I just got the latest 'Street Fighter: Ultimate Evolution'."

Saitama's eyes lit up like it was Christmas morning.

Genos, still running diagnostics to stabilize his overheated processors, quietly downloaded the game's entire move list into his memory.

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