Chapter 5 — Fifth Punch
At the Jujutsu High School sports field, the pulsating, luminous black sphere formed by the Domain Expansion instantly dissipated. Saitama and Gojo Satoru at the center of the domain slowly landed.
"Heading back already?" Gojo asked as the domain faded.
"Yeah. There's nothing else to do, right?" Saitama scratched the back of his head. "I've already seen the peak of Jujutsu combat—the Domain Expansion."
"Not that I really understand it, but that technique is incredible," Saitama said, smiling. "I could never do it myself."
—But your power is already enough to move freely in Infinite Void. Domain Expansion is a battle technique reserved for the top-tier jujutsu sorcerers, the pinnacle of jujutsu combat. Yet for you, a standard domain is probably no problem at all.
Thinking this, Gojo exhaled softly through his nose and then smiled.
"You're impressive too, Saitama-kun."
…
"So, why exactly are you following me home…"
Standing in front of his apartment, Saitama slowly pulled out the key with a yellow plastic giraffe keychain and began to unlock the door, stealing glances at Gojo, who was gleefully excited like a grade-schooler visiting a friend's house. A bead of sweat slowly trickled down his forehead.
"Don't worry about it, don't worry about it," Gojo waved, smiling. "As a teacher, it's only natural to check on a new student's living conditions."
"Just take a quick look and leave, alright?" Saitama twisted the key, opening the door. "I don't have steak or sea urchin to offer—just bananas. You probably wouldn't eat anything here anyway."
Gojo didn't respond. His gaze had already swept through the hallway, stairs, and even the upper and lower floors as Saitama opened the door.
Saitama lived in a rather secluded area—a decrepit apartment in a city district with notoriously bad public safety. This area, due to frequent disappearances and deaths, had been largely abandoned for nearly two years and had earned the nickname "Ghost Town." Still, because the government hadn't officially prohibited residence, water, electricity, and gas remained functional, with no payments required.
Gojo could understand why Saitama chose to live here. Many former residents had abandoned their homes and left, leaving intact apartments behind. Living in an abandoned apartment without paying utilities or rent greatly reduced living costs for someone like Saitama.
However, the real reason this area was called a "Ghost Town" was well-known in the jujutsu world, though ordinary people didn't know. Several years ago, a large number of Cursed Spirits suddenly appeared in this district, causing numerous unexplained deaths. Negative emotions from residents and news coverage further fueled the creation of curses.
Although jujutsu sorcerers went to exorcise the spirits, the rate at which new ones appeared far exceeded the few sorcerers' capacity. Most residents had already left voluntarily, and most Cursed Spirits remained bound to their birthplace, unable to move freely. Eventually, the jujutsu authorities decided to let this largely uninhabited area be, reallocating scarce sorcerer resources to more urgent locations.
No residents meant no victims. With no victims, leaving the area alone while saving sorcerers for other missions made sense from a bureaucratic standpoint. But Gojo disagreed.
In his view, the sudden surge of Cursed Spirits here was abnormal and likely man-made. The purpose was probably to have the spirits destroy each other, eventually producing a powerful special-grade Cursed Spirit—a "Cursed Spirit King" that would intimidate all others.
And the only person capable of placing that many Cursed Spirits at once? Gojo knew it had to be that one individual.
But that person had already been killed by Gojo himself during the Hyakki Yakō one year ago. So even if this was part of his plan, it was now futile.
Gojo hadn't acted against the Ghost Town's Cursed Spirits. Even if his suspicion was correct, chasing down countless spirits repeatedly would be less efficient than waiting for the "Cursed Spirit King" to appear and taking it down in one go.
Since entering the Ghost Town, Gojo had observed everything carefully. Despite being the center of the Ghost Town, there wasn't a single Cursed Spirit. Even traveling from the edge, he hadn't encountered a single one.
Though rumors of "Ghost Town monsters" still ran rampant and human negativity should have continuously generated Cursed Spirits, the area was surprisingly clean.
Had the Cursed Spirits run out of human energy and started consuming each other, drastically reducing their numbers? Or was there another reason…
While Gojo pondered this, Saitama peeked his bald head from the doorway.
"Why don't you come in?" he asked first, then suddenly brightened as if remembering something, excitedly adding, "Ah, do you remember you had something else to do?"
"Of course not."
Gojo stepped inside, scanning the small apartment.
Though the Ghost Town had many well-maintained apartments with running utilities, Saitama hadn't chosen a spacious villa. Instead, he lived in a standard 1DK apartment of about twenty square meters—too small for someone like the 1.9-meter-tall Gojo.
Inside, there was a simple desk and chair, a TV, a low coffee table piled with empty instant noodle containers, and a neatly stacked futon at the far end. The kitchen contained leftover green onions from yesterday and a bunch of bananas. The air conditioner vent was covered with paper and tape, with "Save" written on it.
"Why don't you live in a villa?" Gojo asked. "Some nearby villas are well-maintained and more spacious."
"I just prefer a smaller space," Saitama replied. "It helps me stay calm."
With that, Gojo confidently walked around the small apartment, ignoring the fact that he wasn't really a guest, and sat cross-legged in front of the tiny coffee table.
"I'm a bit thirsty—do you have tea?" he asked.
"Yes. Drink it quickly and then go," Saitama said, tidying the noodle boxes. He opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of discounted oolong tea, found two mismatched cups, and poured a cup for Gojo.
Gojo took the cup, turning it in his hands without drinking immediately.
"Saitama-kun, when did you start living here?" he asked.
"Hmm… about half a year ago," Saitama scratched his head.
"Did you encounter Cursed Spirits when you moved in?" Gojo asked. "This area is known for them, which is why it gradually became uninhabited."
"Sometimes… maybe," Saitama recalled. "But I usually just punch them, so I don't remember much about which ones I fought. Who would bother keeping track of every enemy you beat?"
Indeed. The person who released the Cursed Spirits probably didn't expect that his plan, which created the Ghost Town, would attract the poor Saitama to live there.
Gojo's face showed a faint smile. Getting this guy on their side was pure luck.
Taking a sip of the cooling oolong tea, Gojo fell silent for a few seconds, then suddenly remembered something and asked, "By the way… Saitama-kun, how did you get so strong?"
"You want to know why I got strong?"
At this, Saitama's previously vacant expression suddenly turned serious. "Since you want to know, I'll tell you."
Gojo blinked, then smiled even wider. Well, this would be interesting. If it was a good method, maybe the other students could try it too.
He sat up straight, eager, listening intently. "Go ahead."
Saitama lowered his head slightly, shadows beneath his brow making his usually blank eyes appear serious. His simple, cartoon-like face suddenly took on weight.
"I'm 25 years old. I started training when I was 22. From the day I decided to become a hero for fun, I followed a strict daily training routine without fail. It took three years to reach this level."
He inhaled deeply and said with resonance, "Every day: 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 100 squats, and a 10-kilometer run!"
"Of course, I didn't neglect meals either. If there wasn't much to eat, I'd eat bananas. Air conditioning? That's not for a training man—hot or cold, I never used it."
Recalling the past, Saitama's expression grew solemn. "At first, it was tough. But the key was persistence. Training hurt so much it felt like my lungs would burst. That's when you must keep going! Even if you throw up blood, you keep going! Even if you swell, your muscles ache, your joints hurt—you persist!"
"After six months of training…"
Saitama lifted his head, the bald sheen of his head catching the light, dazzling.
"I lost my hair… and got strong."
"Sacrifice your hair if you must. Even if you go bald, you must get stronger. That's the only way to be powerful."
He fixed Gojo with a serious gaze and remained silent. The room fell into a long pause.
Gojo's smile froze. "You're serious?"
Saitama nodded solemnly. "I'm serious."
"That's it? Nothing else?"
"Nothing else."
"…."
---
As Gojo left Saitama's apartment, he glanced back at the clothes drying on the balcony.
It wasn't fate or cursed energy. Those are innate traits. Saitama, before getting strong, was a completely ordinary person.
He merely unlocked the limiter of human potential through sheer muscle training. It sounds illogical, but there's no other explanation.
According to him, going bald made him stronger and also removed emotions—fear, excitement, resentment during battles—all gone. Perhaps that's why he doesn't generate cursed energy. Yet his punches can still inflict real damage on Cursed Spirits.
This bald man was truly a phenomenon beyond normal understanding.
"What a remarkable person."
Gojo walked with his hands in his uniform pockets, muttering to himself, "Maybe I should just give him the mission to collect Sukuna's fingers too?"