One-Punch Man: Boros, the Universe Overlord

"Mr. Genos, Mr. Saitama, there will be an information session for qualified candidates at 16 PM. Please proceed to the third stage."

"I'll repeat... Mr. Genos, Mr. Saitama..."

At that moment, a cold, detached broadcast came from outside.

"Ugh, what's with this explanation meeting?" Saitama slumped his shoulders, his eyes vacant and lifeless, and listlessly dragged Genos toward the third podium.

Just then, a thick arm suddenly reached out and grabbed Saitama by the collar, yanking him to a halt. Boros smiled and turned to King, gesturing with his chin:

"Hey King, give that Sitch a call and tell him we'll personally explain the heroes to Saitama and the others, and we won't be going to these boring explanation sessions."

King nodded to indicate that he understood, then took out his phone and dialed the number.

Boros turned around again, looking at Saitama with an irritating expression, and deliberately patted him on the shoulder, saying, "Don't be too arrogant even if you're a hero, bald guy."

Saitama looked up and said irritably, "Which eye of yours saw me being proud?"

"Hmm, hmm, haha, what I mean is don't be so depressed. Think of something to make us happy, like you have to do all the dishes next week, hahaha," Boros said cheekily.

"Ah, Genos, King, don't stop me! I'm going to punch this pineapple-headed guy back to his home planet!" The bald man went berserk and charged at Boros.

"Oh, you're getting impatient, you're getting impatient. I'm just stating the facts, why are some people so defensive? Sigh," Boros said, feigning concern.

"Die! A serious punch!"

Of course, it didn't come out; King blocked it. It was a close call!

........................

In a corner of a bustling city, a large film and television base is brightly lit. Spotlights illuminate the set as if it were daytime, and the air is filled with the scent of perfume.

Sweet Mask sat regally before a giant makeup mirror, allowing the makeup artist to give his flawless face a final touch. In the mirror, his blue hair shone brightly, his eyes were deep, and a signature charming smile played on his lips—he seemed born for the camera. The surrounding staff murmured in awe of his beauty.

Just then, the phone next to the dressing table vibrated. Sweet Mask slightly raised her hand, signaling the staff to pause, and answered the call.

"I am Sweet Mask." His voice remained as calm and elegant as ever.

The slightly reserved voice of a Hero Association staff member came from the other end of the phone:

"Mr. Sweet Mask, excuse me for interrupting your work. We've found traces of that cyborg, Genos. Given his past achievements in monster-slaying operations, the association's higher-ups have decided, after discussion, to make an exception and directly designate him as an S-class hero. Although the decision has been made, just to be on the safe side, we wanted to report this to you and hear your opinion."

Sweet Mask looked at his flawless face in the mirror, a subtle, profound meaning flashing in his eyes. He adjusted his posture slightly and said calmly, "Ah, I understand, I agree."

"Yes! Thank you for your understanding." The person on the other end of the phone breathed a sigh of relief and then hung up.

Sweet Mask gently placed his phone back on the table, his gaze falling on the newly printed file beside him—detailed information about "Genos." His slender fingers slowly traced the words "S-Class" on the paper.

"Genos...?"

He murmured the name, a god-like figure appearing in his mind. "Since he came with Boros and King, it seems I don't need to go out of my way to find him and test whether he's qualified."

"After all, being able to stay with them and act alongside them speaks volumes in itself."

He picked up the makeup brush on the table and gently drew a circle on Genos's photo.

The makeup artist asked cautiously, "Sweetheart Mask, may we continue?"

Sweet Mask raised his head, his face once again displaying that flawless, perfect smile, as if his previous contemplation had never happened.

"Of course," he said softly, "let's continue. After all, a perfect hero cannot have any flaws."

On the other side, the third podium was empty, with only Snake standing alone behind it.

As a veteran hero ranked 38th in Class A, he deliberately turned down his monster-clearing mission, eagerly preparing to teach these two newcomers a lesson, but after waiting and waiting, he didn't see a single ghost.

Watching the hands of his watch relentlessly slash past 16, Snake finally couldn't contain his anger. He pulled out his communicator, his fingers trembling slightly with rage, and dialed the association's hotline.

"Hey? Headquarters?! I'm Snake, ranked 38th in Class A! What's going on with these two newbies? I, an active Class A hero, have been waiting here for ages and haven't even seen a glimpse of them! They're completely disregarding me and have no idea how treacherous this world can be! I formally propose that the Association revoke their hero status."

After a moment of silence, the person on the other end of the communicator said, "Sneaker, there's no need to explain anything to them. You can go back directly. These two have special circumstances."

"What? Special circumstances?" Snake's eyes widened, he could hardly believe his ears.

"What special circumstances allow one to skip the association's official assessment briefing? That's incredibly rude!"

The staff member sighed and said, "Sneaker, to tell you the truth, those two newcomers weren't acting alone. Although they disguised themselves and tried to conceal their movements, the association's surveillance system still managed to detect the information about the accompanying persons."

Those are King and Boros! And King just called personally to specifically remind us about this. So Snake, don't get any other ideas; these two newcomers are not someone you can mess with.

"What?! King and Boros?!" Snake felt a chill run from his feet to his head. His face, which had been flushed with anger, turned deathly pale in an instant. He stammered, "..."

"Okay...okay, I understand, that's settled then."

After hanging up the phone, Snake gritted his teeth and growled, "Damn it..."

His eyes held fear mixed with a hint of resentful jealousy.

"Just who are these two newcomers? They're so lucky to get to know King and Boros, and even skip the association's introductory meeting... Damn it, why wasn't it me?"

However, Snake was unaware that not far from the third podium, the two newcomers he envied were causing another uproar on the street. The four of them were already arguing fiercely about what to eat for dinner that night.

"I want to eat top-grade Wagyu beef! I've been mentally exhausted today, I need to replenish my energy with the most expensive meat!"

Saitama was now fully recovered, his previous gloom completely forgotten. He even started to light up at the thought of delicious food, as if the dejected person on the street just moments before was not him at all.

"Bald guy, you need to replenish your energy? All you've done today is stare blankly and sigh," Boros asked with a look of disdain.

"Besides, are you treating? And it's Wagyu beef! Do you know how expensive that stuff is?"

"I think hot pot is also good. It's inexpensive and delicious, and most importantly, you can cook the meat yourself, which is more flexible..." King said.

Amidst the cacophony of voices, Genos, feeling helpless, could only step in as peacemaker. He glanced at Saitama's longing gaze, sighed, and said...

"Teachers, and Mr. King, it's truly an honor and a pleasure to be a professional hero alongside you all. Let me treat you to this meal!" Genos said.

"Since we're celebrating, we should eat the best! Let's listen to Saitama and go get some top-grade Wagyu beef!"

"Wow, Genos!" Saitama's eyes widened as he stared at his disciple in disbelief, then he couldn't help but lean closer and ask curiously:

"Where did you get so much money? Does your family own a mine?"

Genos said it wasn't that he was rich, but that his doctor was rich. Not only did the doctor replace his mechanical body with a brand new one for free and provide routine maintenance, but he also gave him a lot of pocket money every month. That's roughly the idea.

"Wow, really?" Boros listened from the side with a look of envy, jealousy, and resentment.

"I'd believe you if you said you were Dr. Kusno's illegitimate son! Are there any more doctors like that? I want one too! Even if it's just to be a guinea pig, I'll take it, as long as I get food and money!"

Upon hearing this, Saitama retorted with utter disdain, "You have the nerve to say that? Didn't that PhD guy, what's his name, already collaborate with you? Why don't you just go ask him for the money? That kind of evil scientist must be very rich, right?"

"We're just business partners!" Boros said, his face flushed.

"How could I possibly ask him for money directly? Don't I care about my reputation and image?"

"You have no image whatsoever," King and Saitama thought simultaneously.

"Judging from your expressions, I know you're all thinking 'I'm criticizing you' again. You might even be thinking the same thing. It's okay, come on, say it out loud, and I promise I won't kill you."

Watching the group about to start arguing again, Genos felt utterly exhausted. Why was there such a huge gap between his imagined gathering of the strong and reality? Was it his problem? Or the world's problem? Fine, I'm tired. Let's destroy it...

Genos took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to activate the self-destruct device, and said, "I know a high-end Wagyu yakiniku restaurant. I also have VIPs there, along with the two teachers and Mr. King. Let's hurry up, or we'll miss out on seats."

"Departure" x3

Then the group began to walk in a grand procession toward the Wagyu beef restaurant.