Chapter 54 — Fifty-Four Punch
Saitama had returned to Room 2307 five minutes earlier.
According to the surveillance footage, Fushiguro Toji last appeared at the outdoor parking lot behind the hotel. After that, he never emerged from there.
Once this was confirmed, Zen'in Naoya immediately led his team toward the parking lot. Arriving at the lot, he raised his right hand, interlaced his index and middle fingers, and personally summoned the "Curtain."
"Born from darkness, to the deepest shadow."
"Filth and defilement, be purged entirely."
The pitch-black curtain descended from a point directly above the open-air parking lot like a viscous liquid, gradually covering the vast space below, along with the ten sorcerers accompanying him.
By mid-afternoon, the sunlight was dimmed by about seventy to eighty percent. In the resulting gloom, only the high and low shapes of parked cars could be discerned.
With this, Fushiguro Toji was effectively trapped within the lot. Zen'in Naoya thought to himself: all that remains is to deal with him inside the curtain…
"You all," Zen'in Naoya said, turning to the sorcerers behind him, "start searching the lot. You, west side; you, east side; and you…"
Wait. Something wasn't right.
Naoya abruptly stopped mid-sentence. A sudden realization struck him.
Including the attendees of the briefing, there was one second-grade sorcerer, three third-grade sorcerers, and six fourth-grade sorcerers. Subtracting the bald-headed one he had already driven away, that left nine others besides himself.
Yet, the number of people standing behind him totaled ten.
At that instant, a chill crept up Zen'in Naoya's spine.
The curtain blocked most of the light. In the dimness, the faces of the sorcerers were shrouded in shadows, making identification impossible.
Naoya instinctively activated his inherited technique—the Projection Cursed Technique passed down from his father, the current head of the Zen'in family, Zen'in Jabi. In the blink of an eye, he captured the three nearest and most threatening sorcerers as three instant photographic frames.
He then pinched the three frames between his fingers, stepping back more than ten meters from the others.
During the retreat, he quickly glimpsed the three he had turned into frames.
—None of them were Fushiguro Toji; they were just three sorcerers who had come to the briefing.
"Tch." Naoya waved his hand, restoring the frames.
In an instant, the frames vanished, and the three sorcerers reappeared beside him.
"…Huh?"
One of them was Ino Takuma. Only when freed from the technique and seeing Zen'in Naoya and the other two sorcerers in a state of heightened alert did his expression shift to shock. "Why did I suddenly teleport here?"
All of this happened in an instant. But the next second, a deep, low voice rang out.
"Have I been discovered?"
From within the crowd, a black figure moved.
In that instant, Ino Takuma's vision blurred. Six sorcerers near the shadowed figure were struck and thrown backward before even uttering a sound. Their bodies flew over Ino and the others, crashing into the neatly lined cars of the parking lot, sending shards of glass scattering like a rain of crystal.
When the glass settled, the six sorcerers were completely silent.
Remaining in the lot were only Zen'in Naoya, Ino Takuma, and two other sorcerers. Their faces rapidly grew grim.
—Fushiguro Toji stepped out of the shadows with a slightly grim, yet calm smile. In his left hand, he still held the woman's bag he had taken from the shrine maiden, and in his right, a serrated-edge hammer, stained with blood.
Twelve years had passed, and the hidden, unchallenged emperor—the strongest sorcerer killer—had descended once again!
"Feels weird not having the arsenal I raised around me." Fushiguro Toji swung the hammer, spraying blood across the parking lot floor.
"That old lady also brought a cursed tool, but it's just a worthless meat-crushing hammer, not even a proper second-grade cursed tool," he said, casting a disdainful glance at the hammer. "I really miss my 'Ama-no-Sakaboko.' Wonder whose hands it's in now."
"But it doesn't matter," Toji said, the corner of his mouth curling as a faint shadow clouded his gaze. "I'll get it back… after I deal with all of you."
"You… did you kill the others…?" Ino Takuma asked, trembling.
"Kill? You mean murder?" Fushiguro Toji laughed lightly. "Not at all, little brother. Killing people is another price. I don't kill casually—only after I've been paid. That's the professional killer's rule."
"Because if I killed based on whim too often, people who don't want to pay might try to exploit me to eliminate their enemies, doing away with them entirely."
He raised his right hand in a gesture of counting money, speaking at a calm, deliberate pace. "The money that should have gone into my pocket just flew away. I'm at quite a loss, huh."
"…"
Ino Takuma could no longer hold back. He glanced at Zen'in Naoya and quickly made a decision.
This mysterious black-haired man was strong. But fleeing now might mean he could never ascend to the next grade or face Kento Nanami again.
Still, there was a special-grade sorcerer here. Zen'in Naoya had just used a technique to remove three people from the area while the others were unaware. His power was no joke.
If they worked together… there might be a chance!
With that in mind, Ino Takuma pulled out his mask and put it over his head, leaving only his eyes visible.
His technique, "Visiting Auspicious Beasts," also fell under the category of spirit summoning, sharing similarities with the shrine maiden's technique. The difference was that he summoned not the dead, but mythological auspicious beasts. Activation required him, as a spirit medium, to cover his face, becoming a "faceless medium."
Currently, Ino Takuma could summon four mythological beasts: Xiezhi, Spirit Turtle, Qilin, and Dragon. Facing Fushiguro Toji, he did not underestimate him. He planned to start the battle by summoning his strongest beast.
"Auspicous Beast Four: Dragon…"
The summoning ritual began. Ino's lips barely whispered the words beneath his mask when his eyes suddenly brightened.
The mask he had just donned was abruptly ripped off.
As his face was revealed, the summoning was forcibly interrupted.
Coming straight at him was a clenched fist.
—It's well-known that while sorcerer attacks are generally more powerful than normal physical strikes, they still require certain conditions to manifest. If one can interrupt the caster before the attack is unleashed, even an ordinary human could have a chance against a sorcerer.
Bullets move faster than the average human can dodge. Few can escape a fired shot. But if the target shifts from "stopping the bullet" to "stopping the shooter" before the gun fires, victory becomes possible. The same principle applies against sorcerers.
Fushiguro Toji acted on precisely this logic. With no suitable cursed tool in hand, he relied on his physical strength to turn the confrontation—a battle between a non-sorcerer and a sorcerer—into a raw contest of human capabilities.
But for such an attack to succeed, one must possess speed and strength far beyond ordinary humans.
"How is he so fast? I didn't even get a chance to fully launch a cursed technique…"
That was the last thought flashing through Ino Takuma's mind.
The next instant, the fist slammed into his face with crushing force, creating a brief dent in his cheek.
A gush of blood shot out of his nostrils, and a tooth flew free. His facial muscles twitched violently under the impact, and his entire body rocketed backward like a meteor, flying seven or eight meters before crashing hard against a car with a resounding boom.
The car's alarm blared frantically. Ino Takuma lay motionless on the roof. Under the force of Fushiguro Toji's punch, the car's metal body crumpled like cardboard, denting along the path of his body.
The two sorcerers standing beside Ino caught only a fleeting glimpse of a figure before Toji's massive hands pressed down onto their heads.
Their eyes widened in shock, pupils instinctively rolling upward. "…Huh?"
The next instant, Toji pressed with brutal force, smashing their heads together as easily as colliding two coconuts.
A crisp "thunk" echoed. Their eyes rolled back, showing only the whites. As Toji released his grip, their bodies went limp and slumped to the ground.
Everything had happened in the blink of an eye. From the moment Ino launched his attack to the three sorcerers being defeated, no more than five seconds had passed. Not one of them had time to activate their techniques.
"Now, that leaves just one."
Toji stood amidst the two fallen sorcerers, casually whistling.
He clapped his hands, then turned toward Zen'in Naoya, who had already quickly put distance between himself and Toji when Ino was knocked back.
"Hoh…"
Zen'in Naoya quickly calculated Toji's speed, noting that his previous movement had been just slightly slower than when Naoya had used his technique. Only then did he allow himself a small measure of relief.
He concentrated his cursed energy in his hands, speaking cautiously. "Toji-kun… do you still remember me?"
Toji stood in place, studying Naoya and tilting his head slightly.
"No idea." He said, "Besides, who's Toji?"
Naoya's face registered shock, and he paused mid-action. "Fushiguro Toji—that's your name. Are you joking…"
But he stopped abruptly.
Wait. Something was wrong.
Until just moments ago, Toji had clearly remembered his identity and past experiences. He had even reminisced about the cursed spirits he had raised and the weapons he favored. Yet now… he didn't even remember his own name?
At that instant, Naoya locked eyes with Toji and noticed something abnormal.
When they first met, Toji's eyes had been clear. But from the moment he defeated the six sorcerers, a shadow seemed to cloud his gaze.
Now, that shadow had deepened, turning into a murky black.
That's right—Toji was neither a sorcerer nor an ordinary human. He was a completely zero-cursed-energy being, a Heaven-and-Curse-bound entity.
Under normal spirit-summoning circumstances, even if a summoned spirit temporarily seized control of a "grandchild's" body, the spirit would return once the host's cursed energy was fully depleted.
But Toji had no cursed energy to begin with, so none could be consumed. The summoning ritual would not end due to lack of energy. In theory, as long as Toji desired, he could occupy this body indefinitely—until it decayed entirely.
But nothing comes without cost. By forcibly suppressing cursed energy through inviolable conditions, Toji's rational mind would gradually erode over time, until he became nothing more than a killing instinct-driven monster.
Realizing this, Zen'in Naoya widened his eyes slightly. And at that very moment, Toji's figure vanished.
Almost instantly, he reappeared directly in front of Naoya.
Toji raised his meat-crushing hammer high, aiming straight for Naoya's head. The force behind the strike was immense, veins bulging along his arm.
—So fast!
The hammer descended, stirring the air and ruffling Naoya's hair. His pupils constricted sharply as he dodged the blow just before the jagged weapon could land.
"Thud!" The hammer struck the car behind Naoya, splitting it in half as if tearing paper. Toji then retracted the hammer without hesitation, giving chase immediately.
In the dim parking lot, the two figures streaked across the scene like meteors, precious cars continuously overturned and crushed in their wake. Naoya pushed himself to his limits, his frustration mounting.
Perhaps it was his imagination, but it felt as though Toji's speed was subtly increasing during the fight.
If this continued, Toji's speed… might surpass Naoya's. And if that happened, Naoya would have no chance of defeating him.
Desperate, Naoya secretly pulled a short blade from his pocket.
It was a cursed tool he had always kept hidden.
As the heir of the Zen'in family, Naoya needed to maintain the image of effortlessly relying solely on cursed techniques in front of others.
Although carrying a weapon as a sorcerer might seem inferior, that didn't mean he wouldn't keep a secret ace up his sleeve.
Now, with everyone else knocked out by Toji, he could use the blade without anyone noticing. As long as he ended Toji, no one would discover the weapon he carried.
Naoya gripped the blade without hesitation and spun sharply, slashing toward Toji behind him.
The blade cut through the air with a sharp whistle—but behind him, there was no one.
He had swung at empty air.
Naoya froze briefly. When had Toji stopped chasing him?
Before he could ponder further, a shadow loomed overhead. He looked up in shock to see a figure leaping high from the overturned cars, descending straight toward him.
Toji! When had he gotten there?
Without thinking, Naoya swung the blade—but before it could land, Toji grabbed his collar midair, sweeping him forward with a devastating leg strike.
Thud!
Naoya's body flew like a kite cut loose, landing amidst the wreckage. The crisp tearing of fabric rang out as his kimono was ripped apart, most of it now in Toji's grasp. The young Zen'in heir's toned upper body was left barely covered by strips of cloth.
The short blade slipped from his hand with a metallic clang.
Only then did Toji's feet touch the ground.
The glinting blade slid along the floor toward Toji, trembling slightly. He tossed the cloth scraps aside, glanced at his meat-crushing hammer, then tossed it too, bending down to pick up the short blade.
Zen'in Naoya had already fallen unconscious from Fushiguro Toji's kicks. His eyes were tightly shut, and he lay motionless on the cold asphalt.
Toji stepped forward, gripping the hilt of the short blade. He loomed over Naoya, his black pupils studying him for several seconds before he raised the knife high without hesitation.
At that moment, a crisp sound of shattering echoed into Toji's ears.
Across the entire parking lot, white cracks rapidly spread over the overhead tarp. In the next instant, the tarp completely disintegrated into fragments, vanishing into thin air.
Was someone coming?
Even aware of this, Toji didn't hesitate, swinging the knife down. Yet a yellow-and-white blur flashed before him, and his blade struck the ground with a heavy impact, leaving a deep slash in the concrete and scattering sparks.
Naoya had vanished.
Who was this person? And why was their speed even faster than Naoya's?
Bright sunlight poured down again. Toji slowly lowered the knife and turned his head.
"Ah."
A short voice came from nearby. Toji's dark eyes reflected the image of a bald figure in a yellow tight suit, draped with a white cape, expression blank.
Sunlight, unhindered by the destroyed tarp, shone on the top of the bald head. Under his arm, he carried the unconscious Naoya.
"I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, everyone was gone. They left me behind. I followed the trail to this place, intending to give them a piece of my mind, only to find that everyone had already been knocked out."
"Everyone is unconscious. There's no one left for me to complain to."
"In other words, the chance for me to scold them in person was stolen by you, who appeared out of nowhere."
Saitama spoke while glancing down at Naoya under his arm. Then he froze, frowning in mild frustration.
"Eh—"
Although Saitama had rescued Naoya just before Toji's knife struck, the blade had skimmed dangerously close to Naoya's scalp…
This resulted in Naoya now having a strip of hair completely shaved from the top of his head to the back, revealing a bluish scalp, while the hair on the sides remained intact. His hairstyle now resembled Moses parting the Red Sea in the most awkward way possible.
"…Oh no. When he wakes up… am I going to have to pay for this?"
Sweat beaded on Saitama's forehead. He pretended not to notice and placed the unconscious Naoya on the asphalt at his feet, turning his head to cough a few times.
"Anyway…"
Saitama's simple-lined eyes scanned the fallen figures. His gaze passed over the unconscious third- and fourth-grade sorcerers, the bruised Ino Takuma, and Naoya with his hair partially shaved, before finally settling on Toji.
"What's your deal?" Saitama asked curiously. "Did you take all these guys down? Are you here to challenge sorcerers?"
Toji didn't answer, his dark eyes fixed on Saitama.
Another sorcerer? But judging by his attire, this one didn't seem like a sorcerer at all. Toji's rationally dulled mind reached this conclusion.
But it didn't matter if he was a sorcerer or not—as long as he eliminated him.
"What's up with your eyes?" Saitama noticed Toji's abnormal gaze. First surprised, he then clutched his palm into a hammer-like fist, looking as if he'd suddenly figured something out. "Could it be colored contacts…"
Before Saitama finished, Toji's figure flashed and appeared right in front of him.
A sharp glint of cold steel flashed as Toji swung the short blade mercilessly toward Saitama's face.
But just before the blade could strike, Saitama threw a punch. His red-gloved fist hit the blade with even greater speed, shattering it into pieces.
With a swish, Toji held only the bare hilt, rapidly pulling back from Saitama. The killing-machine expression on his face remained unchanged, but his dark eyes watched Saitama warily.
What just happened? Toji thought in a haze. This bald guy had once again matched his speed—enough to smash the blade in his hand?
"Challenging someone is one thing, but don't just randomly slash people with a knife." Saitama kept his punch extended and spoke solemnly to Toji. "It's dangerous."
As he spoke, the white wristband on Saitama's arm suddenly shattered, clattering to the ground.
"Oh no."
Saitama glanced down at the broken band, sweat forming on his forehead. His expression was slightly strained. "Forgot to control my strength… I broke the wristband Gojo Satoru gave me… not good. I'll have to pay for this, huh…"
Gojo Satoru.
The moment Toji heard the name, his gaze flickered briefly, then returned to its usual calm.
For a fleeting instant, some memory seemed to resurface, only to be immediately suppressed by the overwhelming desire to kill.
Toji bent down to pick up the hammer he had thrown aside. He took a deep breath, planted his feet, and charged at Saitama.
This speed was even faster than when he had fought Naoya. As his rationality faded, his strength steadily increased, now surpassing Naoya's top speed!
Ahead, the bald man was still staring down at the fragments of his wristband, mumbling quietly—words like "compensation" and "poor" barely audible. By the time he looked up at Toji in mild surprise, the distance between them was already within striking range.
With that momentum… he could smash this head!
The hammer whistled through the air, coming down hard onto Saitama's bald head.
Got him!
Toji felt the impact through his hands, fully certain he had struck. Yet in the next instant, Saitama, still standing under the hammer's weight, lifted his head.
The sight that met Toji's eyes shocked his brain, giving him a strange sense of unreality. Every cell in his body screamed in disbelief.
Why was this bald guy completely unphased after taking a direct hit?
"Since you've come at me a second time, I can safely say you're looking for trouble." Saitama said seriously, staring at Toji, speaking each word deliberately.
At that moment, Toji felt an overwhelming pressure emanating from the bald figure before him.
Instinctively, he wanted to retreat—but somehow, the red-gloved hands had grabbed his chest.
"Smashing someone's head really hurts the hair follicles, you know! Since you love hitting heads so much, why not feel it yourself?"
Saitama took a deep breath and leaned back slightly. "Serious—Serious Series…"
"SERIOUS HEADBUTT!"