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I am Saitama - Chapter 28: The Meeting
🕑 Added 2025-08-06 20:43:04 +0000 UTC(A-City, Hero Association Main HQ)
The main headquarters of the Hero Association were bustling with activity. Agents rushed across corridors, security droids rolled along their patrol paths, and support staff hurried to prepare the upper levels. Today wasn’t just another day—it was a special occasion. For the first time in three years, the S-Class heroes had been summoned for an emergency meeting.
But the real tension? That was building up in the upper floors. That’s where the meeting would take place. Where it all begins.
BEEP!
At that moment, the elevator doors slid open with a soft hiss, and Saitama stepped out.
So it’s finally happening, he thought, his gaze drifting across the elegant marble hall. This meeting is probably the world-end prophecy meeting. The very same day Boros attacks Earth... I really hoped I was wrong. That maybe this world wouldn’t follow the script so precisely.
His eyes lingered on the glass panels reflecting the city skyline. Back when I was a fan, this arc was one of the best—epic fights, insane power scaling. But now that I’m here… knowing it’s real? It’s terrifying.
He clenched his fist unconsciously.
I remember how many people died during the Boros attack. Even with the heroes giving their all, the destruction was massive. If I try to warn anyone now, I’d just raise suspicions. And if I told them I know it’s coming, what then? Government labs, black sites, dissected like a frog… sure, I could escape, but how many people would I have to hurt in the process?
Saitama’s face darkened. So far, I’ve only fought monsters, and the few humans I faced—heroes or criminals—I only knocked them out. I’ve never actually taken a life. Not technically. Some monsters might’ve been people once, but… somehow, it doesn’t feel the same.
He exhaled slowly, lost in the weight of a reality he once only watched on screen. So distracted, in fact, that he didn’t notice the approaching presence behind him until—
“Hey, it’s nice to see you again.”
The familiar, calm voice snapped him back to reality. Saitama blinked, turning toward the source—and immediately smiled.
“Hey, Mister Silver Fang. It’s nice to see you too.”
Bang stood before him, arms calmly crossed, as composed and strong as ever. The martial arts master gave a faint sigh.
“I told you before, didn’t I? No ‘mister’ or ‘sir.’ Makes me feel older than I already am.”
Saitama chuckled.
“Yeah, sorry. Force of habit.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Bang said with a slight smirk. “Still, it’d be nice if you dropped by the dojo someday. I know you’re strong, but I might have a few tricks you’d find useful. Only if you're interested, of course.”
Saitama’s smirk deepened into a sincere grin.
“Actually... that sounds great.”
I am different from the original Saitama after all, he thought. I actually get why martial arts are important now. They’re not just about flashy moves or techniques—they’re about understanding your own strength and controlling it. With what’s coming... the Monster Association, and even him—‘God’—I’ll need every edge I can get.
His eyes narrowed, seriousness returning to his expression.
I’ve been too relaxed. Letting the story flow without interference, afraid of the consequences of changing it. But maybe that’s not the right call anymore. Maybe it’s time I start preparing... for real.
Bang raised an eyebrow slightly at the shift in his demeanor, but didn’t comment on it. However Bang saw how someone else was approaching them.
“Hey, Silverfang!” called out a man with a voice as sharp as the blades he carried.
Bang turned with a smile. “It’s been a while, Atomic Samurai.”
Striding confidently toward them was a middle-aged man with a lean, wiry build and the composed grace of someone who had lived and breathed the sword for decades. His sharp, dark eyes seemed to scan the air itself for invisible opponents, while his long black hair, tied in a high ponytail, swayed behind him like a warrior straight out of the Edo period. He wore a dark kimono-style uniform with reinforced sleeves, over which hung his signature long katana at the hip, secured with a woven red sash. A light stubble shadowed his jaw, and a faint scar ran down the side of his neck — a reminder of past duels survived.
Atomic Samurai nodded at Bang before turning to the man beside him. “And this is the new guy, One Punch Man, isn’t it?”
Saitama extended a hand. “Yes, although my real name is Saitama. Nice to meet you, Mister Atomic Samurai.”
The swordsman took it with a firm grip and a slight nod of respect. “Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re supposed to be pretty strong, huh? I mean, for the Association to rank you that high in such a short time... well, they don’t do that often.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” replied Saitama with his usual nonchalance.
Atomic Samurai smirked. “No need to be modest. I can recognize strength when I see it — call it instinct. Maybe someday we could spar, test each other’s skills and limits.”
“That’d be great, thanks,” Saitama said, smiling politely.
Hmph. He’s way more respectful than when I first saw him in the anime. Guess that’s what happens when you’re an S-Class from the start. Rank really is everything in the Association... like it or not.
Saitama thought to himself, knowing all too well how people reacted to reputation rather than reality.
Before the moment could settle, a squeaky voice sliced through the conversation like a tiny buzzsaw.
“You again?! What are you doing here, baldy? This meeting is for real S-Class heroes, not cheaters and frauds!”
Saitama didn’t need to look. He already knew who it was.
Standing barely 150 centimeters tall (around 4’9”), with a sharp glare and a scowl that could curdle milk, was a woman with vibrant green hair styled in springy curls that framed her petite face. Her emerald eyes blazed with indignation. Despite her small frame, her curvy thighs and slender legs gave her a striking presence — one she clearly believed was more than enough to command respect.
Tatsumaki, the Tornado of Terror.
Ugh, not this goblin again, Saitama groaned inwardly. Well... at least she’s still hot.
“Even if the Association invited you, a polite person would’ve declined. You have no business here. The nerve! You disgust me. Just leave already,” she snapped, pointing a finger at him like an offended older sister catching her sibling in her room.
But Saitama was already grinning. If she wanted to start something, he wasn’t going to let the moment go.
So I’m a cheater? Time to say the worst thing a little goblin like you can hear...
With a devilish glint in his eyes, he leaned forward slightly and said, “What’s with this sassy lost child?”
Atomic Samurai visibly tensed, trying hard to suppress a laugh. Bang’s stoic expression didn’t break either — but the faint curve at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
“Who are you calling a child, you avocado-head?!”
Saitama shrugged, smirking. “Someone call child services, please! I think this one has rabies!”
“I’m not an animal, you brute egghead!”
“No, you’re lilliputian.”
That broke the dam. Atomic Samurai burst into laughter, a loud, unrestrained cackle that echoed down the hallway. Bang chuckled too, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as if impressed by Saitama’s ability to match the psychic powerhouse not in strength, but in sass.
Tatsumaki’s eye twitched.
“You… you arrogant fungus! I should just throw you out of here!”
“Sorry, I don’t fight with kids,” Saitama said with a straight face. “That’s a rule I set for myself.”
“You bald bug—!”
Before she could explode — literally — a calm voice interrupted the chaos from behind.
“Now, now… shall we all try not to destroy HQ before the meeting begins?”
Everyone turned to see King standing awkwardly at the far end of the hallway, hands in his pockets and his usual “unshakable warrior” aura active despite the sweat beading at his temples.
“Ugh! Fine!” Tatsumaki huffed and floated away, arms crossed and cheeks puffed in anger.
Atomic Samurai wiped a tear from his eye. “You’ve got guts, One Punch Man. I like that.”
Saitama just smiled, hands in his pockets. “Guess it’s gonna be an interesting meeting.”
However, internally, his mind drifted elsewhere.
Hmph, I wonder if this version of King is strong or is as weak as the original. Still weird that a guy with no power could reach that far without anyone noticing. Unless this world’s version actually fights.
Before his thoughts could spiral any further—
BEEP!
The elevator doors behind him slid open with a metallic hiss, revealing a blur of silver and steam.
“Sensei!!” called a voice, half-man, half-machine, all devotion.
Genos rocketed forward with heavy metallic steps, his armored feet slamming against the tile as he rushed to Saitama’s side like a loyal dog spotting its master after a long absence.
“Hey Genos,” Saitama said casually. “Where were you? I’ve been looking for you all morning.”
“My sincerest apologies, Sensei,” Genos said, immediately bowing his head. “I was outside training with the latest combat modifications installed by Doctor Kuseno when I received your emergency text.”
The emergency text was just a reminder about the meeting… it wasn’t an emergency, thought Saitama with a blank expression.
Genos, of course, didn’t notice the sarcasm. “I came at full speed the moment I received it.”
Saitama sighed internally. Why does this guy take everything I say at full intensity?
“Anyway, come on,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”
Together, the two stepped into the massive Hero Association meeting chamber—an expansive, circular room lined with reinforced steel walls and massive LED displays showing current threat levels across the globe. The long, oval-shaped table at the center was surrounded by high-backed chairs, each bearing the emblem of an S-Class hero. Most of the seats were already filled.
Bang, the calm and composed Silver Fang, gave them a nod as they entered. Beside him, Atomic Samurai was stroking his chin thoughtfully, his long ponytail swaying with his motion. He offered a curt nod to Genos.
Across the table, the 150 cm tall green-haired menace known as Tatsumaki sat cross-legged on her chair, floating a few inches above the seat despite having a perfectly good cushion. Her arms were crossed, her expression sour. She didn’t even look at Saitama or Genos—though her eyebrow twitched slightly when she sensed his presence.
Other S-Class heroes were scattered around the room:
Puri-Puri Prisoner, wearing his typical striped prison uniform, blew a kiss in their direction, muscles gleaming with unnatural shine as he winked dramatically at Genos, who took a reflexive step back.
Metal Bat, leaning back in his chair, chewed gum loudly and tapped his metal bat against the marble floor with a lazy rhythm. He gave Saitama a quick nod, sizing him up with that usual mix of cockiness and streetwise respect.
Zombieman sat hunched over a tablet, a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. His tired eyes barely shifted to acknowledge the newcomers, more focused on the report scrolling on his screen.
Drive Knight stood silently near the wall, arms crossed, unmoving. His sleek black armor glinted under the room’s white lighting, and his glowing red eye never blinked, scanning each person with cold interest.
Pig God, somehow already surrounded by a mountain of snacks, munched continuously with loud crunches. Wrappers crinkled under his belly as he swallowed entire bags of chips and snacks in single gulps.
Superalloy Darkshine, massive and statuesque, practically glistened in the center of the room. His ebony muscles looked carved from obsidian, oiled to perfection, and his bright smile radiated confidence and optimism. “Oh! Saitama, right? I’ve heard of your feats. I hope we can work out together someday!”
Child Emperor sat on a hovering drone-chair, surrounded by mechanical arms holding tools, tablets, and holographic screens. He glanced at Saitama, clearly intrigued. Interesting. According to the reports, his rise in ranks defies statistical progression models... I’ll have to analyze him later.
Watchdog Man sat in a crouch atop his designated chair like a dog perched on a pedestal. Still dressed in his fluffy dog costume, he didn’t say a word—just stared with wide, curious eyes. His nose twitched once in Saitama’s direction, but otherwise, he remained motionless.
Flashy Flash, standing beside one of the tall windows with arms crossed, narrowed his eyes when he spotted Saitama. His shimmering armor and perfect hair swayed slightly with the breeze leaking through the open cracks. “So that’s the baldy who beat three Dragon level disasters… tch. He doesn’t look like much.”
Tanktop Master, built like a mountain, adjusted his tanktop and stepped forward. “You must be Saitama. Welcome. I respect anyone who climbs the ranks through sheer power.” His firm handshake almost cracked the air, though Saitama barely reacted.
The atmosphere in the room thickened with silent tension and curiosity as more eyes turned toward the bald newcomer. Saitama, of course, looked completely unbothered, standing casually with his hands still in his pockets.
“Told you this was going to be interesting,” he muttered with a slight smirk to Genos, who nodded in pure admiration.
"Yes, Sensei. All eyes are on you."
Then Saitama’s gaze fell on one hero in particular, sitting at the far end: a tall, broad-shouldered man with spiky black hair, an intense gaze, and a presence that screamed "final boss." The other heroes were giving him a wide berth.
“King,” Saitama muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes.
The King Engine roared—his signature dramatic heartbeat sound effect. Most of the heroes instinctively tensed.
But Saitama knew better.
Still faking it? Or maybe… maybe this version actually does fight? he thought, trying to gauge any difference in posture or aura.
“Sensei,” Genos whispered, noticing Saitama’s interest. “King is said to be the strongest man alive.”
Saitama almost snorted. Yeah, strongest at playing games, maybe.
From the front of the room, a low chime rang out as Sitch, one of the highest-ranking Association executives, entered, carrying a folder under one arm and a tablet in the other. The hum of conversation died down as he approached the head of the large, round table.
“All right, everyone, thank you for assembling on such short notice. Now, let us begin—”
Before he could continue, the entire building shook with a low, powerful rumble. The walls groaned, the lights flickered, and a few objects fell from desks.
After a few seconds, the tremor died down.
All of the heroes instinctively stood up, alert and ready.
“What the hell was that? An earthquake?” Metal Bat asked, gripping his weapon tighter and narrowing his eyes.
“It didn’t feel like one,” Drive Knight replied, voice emotionless and synthesized.
“My scanners detected no tectonic activity in this region—or anywhere in the country for that matter. This was something else entirely…” said Child Emperor, already tapping rapidly on a custom wrist interface that projected a holographic display.
Watchdog Man growled faintly but remained seated in a squatting position on his chair, alert but calm.
Flashy Flash narrowed his eyes and muttered, “That shockwave… it was fast. Too fast.”
Pig God finally stopped chewing, his expression vacant but eerily focused.
Then, as if on cue, a sharp ring cut through the tension. Sitch’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out quickly and answered, stepping slightly aside.
“Sitch here. What was that?... What? Are you sure? That’s… impossible. It wasn’t supposed to arrive so quickly… Yes, everyone is here except Metal Knight… But I haven’t even had time to inform them yet… Understood. I’ll tell them now.”
He ended the call slowly, his hand trembling slightly as he returned the device to his coat.
All eyes were on him. The atmosphere had shifted from tension to dread.
“What’s going on?” Metal Bat asked again, more serious this time.
“Are we under attack?” Superalloy Darkshine asked, his massive muscles twitching in anticipation.
“What is happening, big nose?” Tatsumaki snapped, her arms crossed as her feet levitated a few inches above the ground.
“EVERYONE, SILENCE!” Sitch barked, slamming his folder onto the table with a rare show of frustration. The force of his voice alone was enough to silence the room.
He took a deep breath before speaking again, this time slower, more composed—but graver.
“I’ve just been informed by High Command… that a spaceship, almost the size of A-City, is currently hovering a few hundred meters above us. Everyone… we are being invaded.”
Comments
KristofferXxXxX
I would love to see how everyone, especially Tatsumaki, will react once they witnesses Saitama's true strength when he faces Boros.
firerock laser
Thanks for the chapter I can't wait to see what happens next
