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OPM: Heroics Start with Dual Kamui 49
🕑 Added 2025-07-17 16:00:08 +0000 UTCChapter 49: Points Shop Lv2
“My eyes have always been like this. There’s nothing to be surprised about.”
Shinji answered calmly, waving off their reactions like it was no big deal.
“I once thought your eyes might be cybernetic modifications, Master… but I guess I was overthinking it,” Genos murmured, still eyeing the new Mangekyō pattern with intrigue.
“You… don’t tell me you’re also an esper?”
Fubuki leaned in slightly, voice lowering with suspicion. The combination of “natural” and Shinji’s bizarre, reality-defying abilities was too suspicious.
“Maybe...”
Shinji didn’t commit to an answer. Bang had once asked him the same thing, and honestly? Pretending to be a psychic was the only halfway logical explanation for what he could do.
And besides, space-time manipulation did fall under the umbrella of psychic powers in this world. Just look at Blast, the top S-Class hero, and a complete enigma.
“No wonder your powers are so strange,” Fubuki muttered. “You really are an esper...”
“That explains it,” Genos said with a nod. “No wonder Master always said he couldn’t teach me anything.”
His eyes lit up. “But now I understand your guidance! You helped me find my own training path. Coming to you really was the right decision.”
“I’m glad you finally get it,” Shinji replied, nodding with faint approval.
A little while later, Fubuki glanced at the time and stood up. She realized she’d already overstayed her casual visit.
“Thanks for the hospitality,” she said, smoothing down her skirt. It was a polite way of acknowledging the snacks and tea she’d casually consumed like a regular.
Shinji walked her to the door while Genos barely looked up, still absorbed in his scribbles.
…
“Why should we have to work just to earn money?! Why should we pay just to eat?! What kind of freedom is that?!”
“Rich people live in luxury! Poor people suffer every single day! The working class makes the rich even richer, while they get nothing!”
“That’s why we say no more! I, Hammerhead, will change this broken world! The [Paradisers] will create a utopia of true freedom!”
On a crowded street, a group of combat suit–wearing, bald-headed men marched together, shouting loud enough to drown out traffic.
At the center stood a massive figure, towering over everyone at over 2.15 meters tall. Fully bald and brimming with misguided confidence, this was Hammerhead, a B-Class wanted criminal and the self-proclaimed revolutionary leader of the Paradisers.
Their goal? A world without labor. Complete freedom. No jobs. Just vibes.
Hammerhead ranted for a solid five minutes, fist pumping, voice rising, sweat flying.
But the crowd around him? Completely indifferent. No cheers. No followers. Just people walking past like they were invisible.
“…Bunch of brain-dead sheep!”
Hammerhead growled, clenching his fists. “Fine then! Let’s make an example! We’ll trash the mansion of the richest man in the city, Zeniru! That’ll wake people up!”
With that, he led his bald brigade through the streets.
Soon they arrived in front of an absurdly tall skyscraper.
“This is Zeniru’s house?”
Hammerhead craned his neck, his jaw tightening. The tower loomed over them like a monument to greed.
“The whole building belongs to one guy?!”
He scowled hard enough to wrinkle his entire forehead. “How many dirty tricks did he pull to afford this monstrosity?!”
“Smash it!”
“Yes, sir!”
The bald mob shouted in sync.
Each one of them was wearing a high-powered combat suit identical to Hammerhead’s, black, reinforced, and more than a little ridiculous.
One of the Paradisers stepped forward. With a hiss of hydraulics, the armor on his arms expanded dramatically, doubling and then tripling in size. Then, with a thunderous punch, he slammed into the base of the building.
BAM!!
RUMBLE, !!
The shockwave echoed through the district as the skyscraper crumbled almost instantly under the force of the impact. The building’s collapse kicked up a massive dust cloud, debris scattering like confetti.
Clearly, these suits weren’t just for show. They were the real deal.
“Heh, no wonder,” Hammerhead sneered, watching the destruction unfold with an almost childlike glee. “These new combat suits from that underground organization are absolute monsters. Risking our lives to steal them? Totally worth it!”
But moments later, one of the underlings tapped him on the shoulder and pointed down the street.
“…Uh, boss? That wasn’t Zeniru’s mansion…!”
Hammerhead blinked and stared down the road. Sure enough, the real Zeniru estate, massive, gleaming, and twice as extravagant, stood further up the block.
“…Tch. Whatever.”
They shrugged it off without a second thought and marched forward. Property damage was property damage. The message was still clear.
Meanwhile, Zeniru, the wealthiest man in the city, was watching the live news feed in his luxurious penthouse.
A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as his servants urged him to evacuate.
“Sir, I strongly recommend—”
Before the butler could finish, a tall figure appeared beside the window without a sound.
“You should count yourself lucky this happened right as our contract ends,” the man said coolly.
He stood with arms folded, dressed in a sleek ninja-style outfit. His long black hair was tied behind him, and a slim blade rested across his back.
“Oh! Sonic!”
Zeniru’s face lit up in instant recognition. “You’re still here?”
His relief was obvious… but it didn’t last.
“But the enemy is a B-Class criminal with a whole gang of lunatics,” he added, nervous again. “Can you really handle them all alone…?”
Sonic didn’t even flinch.
“So what? You should be more worried about how to clean up the pile of corpses afterward.”
His voice was calm, almost bored. But behind his eyes, there was a spark of something deadly.
A gang of bald weirdos in stolen tech suits? With a criminal leader?
He cracked his neck lightly. Yeah… this could be a decent warm-up.
...
Elsewhere in the city, Saitama had just finished a few rounds of video games with Shinji. He sat on the floor, sipping a juice box, when a news alert flashed on the TV.
[…The Paradisers continue to rampage through City Y’s commercial district. These violent criminals are all bald and wearing identical combat suits. If you see any bald individuals, please exercise caution and report to the authorities immediately.]
Saitama froze mid-sip.
His eyes twitched.
“…The hell did you just say?”
The camera zoomed in on a shot of Hammerhead’s gang stomping down a street. All bald. All loud. All obnoxious.
“…Why the hell are they bald?!”
He pointed at the screen in disbelief. “Are they trying to make bald people look bad now?!”
His face was a mix of irritation and offense. He was bald. Proudly bald. This was personal now.
“…They’re about to give bald guys everywhere a bad name.”
And Saitama wasn’t going to let that slide. Shit is about to get real.
“Then you better go shut them down quick,” Shinji said lazily from the couch.
“Exactly. I’ll go beat them up right now!”
Saitama didn’t even hesitate. He jumped up, dashed into his room, and threw on his yellow hero suit like it was a fire drill. Seconds later, he was already out the door and bolting toward the city.
Shinji, on the other hand, stayed right where he was. No way he was getting involved in something that trivial. Those bald clowns weren’t even worth Saitama’s warm-up. Plus, there was another reason to avoid that scene.
[Speed-o’-Sound Sonic].
That guy had a seriously annoying personality. The second someone beat him, he’d latch onto them like a flea with a grudge and never let go. Shinji had no interest in getting added to that list.
…
Meanwhile, Hammerhead and the rest of the Paradisers had reached a forested patch of land. Just beyond it loomed their destination, Zeniru’s ridiculous, gold-plated skyscraper, more commonly known by its unofficial nickname: the Golden Poop Tower.
They were almost there.
Almost.
Unfortunately for them, Sonic intercepted them right at the edge of the trees.
He tore through the Paradisers like a knife through tofu. Even with their fancy combat suits, they couldn’t handle his speed. One by one, they collapsed before they could even react. Limbs flying, metal sparking, bodies slamming into trees.
Only Hammerhead somehow survived.
Barely.
He stumbled out of the wreckage, battered and limping… only to run right into a bald figure standing casually in his path.
“Ah, wait, don’t hit—!”
BOOM!
Too late.
Saitama’s casual punch shattered Hammerhead’s combat suit like it was made of paper. The guy went flying.
And then, just as Saitama dusted his hands and turned to leave, Sonic arrived.
He took one look at Saitama’s bald head.
Paused.
And immediately assumed he was one of the Paradisers.
“You…” he said darkly. “So you’re their leader?”
Saitama blinked. “Huh?”
Cue the awkward misunderstanding. Followed by a ridiculous, over-the-top “duel” with Sonic flipping through the air like an anime gymnast while Saitama tried to ask what the hell was going on. It didn’t end well for Sonic.
...
Back at home, Shinji went back to quietly farming points as usual. Small tasks, low-risk cleanups, things he could handle without getting swarmed by headlines or nonsense.
Then, a few days later, something unexpected popped up.
[Alert! The host’s total accumulated points have reached 1000. Points Shop upgraded to Lv2!]
Shinji’s eyes widened with interest.
He immediately opened the system interface and switched to the Points Shop. The first page looked exactly the same—nothing new there. But at the bottom corner, a glowing tab had appeared, labeled [Page 2].
He focused his thoughts, and the second page unfolded before him.
[Points Shop Lv2]
① Tiger Mask (Red Night Obito)
② Three-Tomoe Sharingan
③ Uchiha Clan Fan
④ Rinnegan
Shinji’s pupils narrowed slightly.
Now this was an upgrade!
Comments
Fire_Fox2590
THE FAN. Its so much cooler than the Rinnegan in my opinion. Maybe not as strong, but cooler.
