Chapter 30 — Thirty Punch
Silence lingered for a moment.
Saitama stood in place, staring blankly at Todo Aoi.
Then his eyes drifted to the right. He raised a hand and picked at his nose. After lowering his hand, he shifted his gaze back to Todo Aoi standing directly in front of him.
"Gentle type," Saitama answered.
Todo Aoi: "..."
Todo Aoi slightly lowered his head, letting the shadows cover his face. He maintained his stance, but his muscular body trembled slightly.
"You… really disappoint me, Saitama," Todo Aoi muttered.
"Huh?" Saitama's face showed complete confusion.
"Gentle type? What is that supposed to mean? Some fake line a female idol would say just to please all her fans?"
"No, it's not like that," Saitama quickly waved his hand. "Even if you say that…"
"I thought your taste would be more unique, Saitama," Todo Aoi said, clenching his fists. "But fine. I know why. After hearing your preference, the tension and fear I felt just now… it's completely gone."
"After all, someone as ordinary as you in both tastes and appearance must be…"
"…a harmless, ordinary man, right?"
Before the words had even fully left his mouth, Todo Aoi vanished from his spot in an instant.
Saitama remained rooted in place. Yet Todo Aoi suddenly reappeared behind him. He drew a deep breath, swung a fist the size of Saitama's head, and aimed directly at that gleaming bald scalp.
"Haah!"
The punch carried immense cursed energy, striking heavily against Saitama's bald head.
Todo Aoi's eyes widened, his pupils contracting slightly. He felt the impact of his fist connecting with the back of Saitama's head.
Though he had said Saitama was harmless, Todo Aoi never took him lightly. This was a strike imbued with the power of a first-level sorcerer. Even during the Night Parade of One Hundred Demons, a special-grade curse hit by such a punch would be knocked back seven or eight meters. A first-grade curse would be pierced entirely by one of his punches.
Yet, when the fist landed on Saitama's head, he felt absolutely no cursed energy emanating from him.
What's going on? Did he not have time to react and defend with cursed energy?
If that's the case, Saitama should fall after this punch. And as soon as his back touches the ground, Todo Aoi would be the victor.
Goodbye, Saitama, Todo Aoi thought. I'll take him to miss Shoko to heal afterward.
However, to Todo Aoi's surprise, when his fist struck Saitama's head, the egg-like bald scalp bounced slightly as if fitted with a spring, then settled back into its smooth, round shape. The head remained perfectly intact; the strike had left no mark at all.
"What?" Todo Aoi exclaimed, rapidly stepping back to observe Saitama more carefully.
Saitama, hearing Todo Aoi's footsteps, looked back in confusion. "Huh? Why did you suddenly step back?"
…
So that's it. A punch that could knock back a special-grade curse does absolutely nothing to Saitama's head. No wonder this bald head, which had once knocked Todo Aoi out, is so incredibly resilient—like flesh-colored alloy armor.
Todo Aoi quickly adjusted his strategy and surged forward again.
If the head is too well-protected, attack other parts of the body!
In an instant, Todo Aoi unleashed an extremely rapid assault on Saitama's body. Punches rained down like a heavy storm, so fast they were almost impossible to track. Yet Saitama merely crossed his arms in front of him, blocking the strikes.
"What's wrong, Saitama? Why aren't you countering?"
Seeing Saitama only defend, Todo Aoi grew irritated. "Counter already! Don't make this boring, Saitama!"
"But you're just an ordinary person, right? Younger than me, and also a student at Jujutsu Tech," Saitama replied amidst the rain of punches. "Anyway, as long as you don't fall down, you haven't lost. I really don't want to hit you."
Todo Aoi's expression darkened.
—Damn it, has this guy not even used his full strength yet? And what does he mean by that? That as long as I throw punches, I'll win?
Feeling provoked, Todo Aoi's attacks grew faster and heavier. Anger flared in his chest. In that moment, he felt a familiar pulse flow through his entire body. Cursed energy surged from his shoulders to his fingertips, infusing every strike.
This sensation—was the elusive "Black Flash"!
When the timing difference between cursed energy attacks and physical attacks is nearly zero—0.000001 seconds—the attack synchronizes and produces an added spatial distortion effect. This is called a "Black Flash." A strike with a Black Flash is roughly 2.5 times stronger than a normal hit.
The Black Flash is the blessing of Lady Luck. No one can deliberately trigger it, but in top-tier combat, it can turn the tide of a fight. In games, it would count as a critical hit.
Jujutsu sorcerers who have experienced a Black Flash and those who haven't are separated by an unforgiving chasm. Many precise cursed techniques are only learned and mastered after experiencing a Black Flash. The more times one performs it, the deeper the understanding, and the finer the control of cursed energy.
Saitama is strong. Really strong. In that moment, Todo Aoi couldn't help but forget his habit of judging people by their preferences, and even the frustration of being knocked down twice by Saitama.
Todo Aoi's gaze toward Saitama was clear, even tinged with gratitude. He felt thankful to Saitama. If he hadn't been able to fight someone of Saitama's caliber, he would never have had the chance to trigger a "Black Flash."
This was a rare opportunity—a chance to clash with a true strong opponent, soul against soul, in the heat of battle.
Letting that exhilarating familiarity surge through his body, Todo Aoi instinctively threw a powerful punch.
Thank you, Saitama. And… it's over.
"Black Flash!" Todo Aoi shouted.
In that instant, cursed energy wrapped around his right arm like black lightning, visibly writhing, and struck Saitama with crushing force.
Boom!
Like being struck by electricity, the black cursed energy shot through Saitama's entire body, scattering countless fine black sparks. The pavement beneath Saitama's feet suddenly cracked under the impact of the Black Flash. Sand and smoke erupted in all directions, instantly enveloping the two in a cloud of debris.
The black sparks sizzled and fizzled, fading as the cursed energy dissipated. Todo Aoi clenched his fist, holding his breath in anticipation.
Seconds ticked by. As the smoke cleared, Todo Aoi suddenly saw, faintly through the haze, a smooth, bald head appear.
Saitama's face emerged from the smoke.
"What?" Todo Aoi gasped, stepping back in shock, unable to speak.
Saitama had taken the full force of the Black Flash and stood completely unharmed, his expression almost excited.
"That black thing just now… so cool," Saitama said eagerly. "You call that a 'Black Flash'? How does it work?"
"Well…" Todo Aoi didn't know how to answer, so he just froze. "You just… throw a punch that feels really good, and it happens."
"Oh, really?" Saitama said eagerly. "Then I'll try it."
"It has to be a punch that feels really good…"
He muttered to himself, bouncing lightly a few times on the spot. Then he clenched his fist and nodded. "Okay, let's do this."
Todo Aoi watched in disbelief as Saitama bent down slightly, curling his arm back. In that instant, Saitama's previously blank expression turned deadly serious.
"Black—Flash!"
Saitama mimicked Todo Aoi, swinging his fist with full force.
Though it looked like a plain, simple punch, Todo Aoi's body froze. In his eyes, Saitama's ordinary fist seemed magnified infinitely, merging with the enormous stone in his dreams—the one with Saitama's face chasing him.
The same heart-stopping terror he had felt in the dream gripped Todo Aoi's chest. An inescapable sense of despair. Even though Saitama's punch moved quickly, Todo Aoi felt as if everything had slowed to slow motion.
They say that before death, one's mind becomes hyperactive. In that moment, Saitama's punch seemed to transform into a blood-red kanji:
Death.
Todo Aoi stood frozen, unable to move under the pressure of Saitama's fist.
He felt no confidence that he could withstand this punch. Even raising his hand to activate his cursed technique, "Unjust Game," was impossible. Am I going to die?
His pupils contracted sharply. But then, Saitama's fist stopped abruptly, only about ten centimeters from Todo Aoi's face.
Saitama's arm had fully extended and could go no further.
The distance between them exceeded the reach of Saitama's arm; he never intended to actually hit Todo Aoi. Yet even so, the gust of wind from his punch swept past Todo Aoi, ruthlessly brushing his body and rustling the forest behind him.
Trees snapped in succession, the sound echoing far away. Alongside it came the ripping of fabric.
Todo Aoi's topknot scattered, and his clothes were torn to shreds, carried high into the sky by the punch wind. He stood in shock, staring at Saitama's fist just a few inches away, his vision partially blocked by the black strands hanging before his face.
"Ah…" Saitama's disappointed voice rang out.
Todo Aoi saw the fist retreat. He noticed Saitama staring at it with a look of disappointment, muttering quietly, "No black sparks came out… I was kind of looking forward to it."
Then Saitama looked up and froze when he saw Todo Aoi completely naked.
"Whoa… why are you suddenly… naked?"
"…You want to know why I'm suddenly naked?" Todo Aoi replied instinctively. "It's because your punch wind tore all my clothes…"
"Oh, is that so?" Saitama's bald head was once again glistening with sweat. He immediately pressed his palms together in front of him. "Sorry! Um… do I need to pay for your clothes?"
"Oh, no need," Todo Aoi replied blankly, his lips twitching.
Hearing this, Saitama relaxed a little, then asked, "So about our match…"
Todo Aoi finally came back to his senses. Looking at Saitama's slightly nervous expression, he felt a calmness in his heart. He even exhaled and laughed.
For the first time, he felt as if he were seeing a world he had never seen before. This trip to the Tokyo branch had brought far more than he had expected.
"I lost… to you," Todo Aoi muttered softly. "Congratulations, you win, Saitama."
"Really?" Saitama paused. "So that means everything from before is canceled, right?"
"Yeah." Todo Aoi nodded, exhausted.
The sunset painted the horizon in brilliant colors. Watching Saitama's bald back fade into the distance along the road, Todo Aoi slowly turned, his gaze sweeping behind him.
In the direction westward, the once-dense forest had been flattened by Saitama's punch wind. Trees that had grown for decades were reduced to bare stumps. Through the leveled woods, the distant campus of the Tokyo branch came into view.
Even the fiery clouds above had been split apart by the punch wind, forming a scene like the parting of the Red Sea.
Staring at the view of the campus, Todo Aoi, still completely naked, let out a slow sigh.
Something trickled from his nose. He sniffed hard, but once he relaxed, it ran out again.
A fight between the strong is a collision of souls.
This time… he had truly encountered a soul that was terrifyingly solid and unyielding…
Standing there, staring at the ruined forest, Todo Aoi muttered to himself, "Could I have been wrong? Could liking the gentle type really be the right choice?"
"I should go home and watch some videos of idols of that type," he whispered to himself. But then, faint footsteps sounded behind him.
Turning, he saw Kyoto branch principal Rakuyaji Yoshinobu, who had just finished the pre-handshake meeting and was preparing to catch the evening flight back to Kyoto, along with his classmates Miwa Kasumi and Zenin Mai.
Rakuyaji's eyes, under his long white eyebrows, bulged in shock. Miwa Kasumi glanced awkwardly at her shoes, while Zenin Mai, who was closest to Todo, looked at him as if she were seeing something filthy.
Silence stretched on.
Rakuyaji finally spoke, his voice slow, "Todo… why are you completely naked?"
"…" Todo Aoi didn't want to explain. "Do you have any clothes? Let me borrow something to wear."
---
By the time he got home, it was dark. Saitama had just opened the door and immediately saw Genos busy at the kitchen counter.
"Sensei, did you already deal with that huge gorilla guy?" Genos asked as soon as he noticed Saitama enter.
"Yeah. Anyway, everything from before is finally settled." Saitama closed the door with his other hand, sniffed the air, and his eyes lit up. "Oh, that smell… Genos, did you make miso soup?"
"Correct. When I went to grab sashimi on sale, I also found reasonably priced miso blocks and tofu. We still had some leftover kelp at home," Genos replied, lifting the lid of the pot to let the aroma fill the small apartment.
Five minutes later.
Saitama and Genos sat at the small table, chopsticks in hand, saying in unison, "Let's eat."
Saitama first sipped the hot miso soup, then held a bowl topped with the discounted sashimi. He smoothed the green wasabi, poured a bit of soy sauce, and ate with relish.
Genos, eating as well, asked, "So, how was your fight with that huge gorilla guy? Was he strong?"
"Well… how should I put it?" Saitama mumbled through his bite. "Some interesting stuff happened, but overall, it was no different from fighting anyone I've beaten before. Strong or not… I couldn't tell. Anyway, after one punch, he gave up."
"I see… as expected of you, Sensei!" Genos said sincerely.
"However…"
Saitama swallowed the rice in his mouth and stared at the bowl, a little downcast.
"For a moment, I thought this fight might give me something different. But in the end… it was just the same as always."
He muttered to himself, "A fight you can end with one punch… there's never been a competition of will, a clash of souls. Just a plain punch, that's all."
"By gaining such incredible power, I feel like I've also lost something… important about being human."
"…" Genos looked at Saitama, troubled, and fell silent.
This was a worry only someone like him could have. Sensei. Genos thought. If giving up those things could grant someone the strength of Saitama, countless people would probably jump at the chance. Yet Saitama…
---
At 7 p.m., Todo Aoi, wearing clothes Miwa Kasumi had run to get for him, arrived at the hotel.
Everyone else had taken the evening flight back to Kyoto, but Todo Aoi, preparing for Takada-chan's handshake event the next day, had deliberately booked his flight for the following day and reserved a room for the night.
After checking in, he entered his room, sat on the bed, and pulled out his laptop.
He casually searched for videos of small, pure-type female idols known for their gentleness, approaching it with a serious, studious attitude.
Tick-tock, tick-tock…
Minutes passed as the cheerful songs played, the cute idols sang and danced, while Todo Aoi's expression gradually twisted.
"What is this!" he suddenly erupted, throwing the laptop onto the bed and shouting, "I can't accept it! Saitama's taste is the worst!"
"Only Takada-chan is justice!"