Once Saitama caught the two (Hammerhead and Sonic) and turned them in, the officers who collected the unconscious bodies thanked him profusely and directed him to the Hero Association HQ to claim his reward.
"Nice. Just in time to prepare for my date tomorrow," he muttered, cracking his neck and heading off.
By the time he reached HQ, he was already imagining the sweet sensation of financial freedom. A decent meal. A hot bath. Maybe even a new tracksuit.
As he stepped inside, the secretary from earlier looked up—visibly surprised but smiling politely.
"Hello there again!!" he said with a cheerful wave. His mood was visibly improved from earlier.
She straightened up behind her desk. "Hello Mr. Saitama. Of course, I was informed of your work, and on behalf of the Association, we sincerely appreciate your dedication and rapid response," she said with a respectful bow.
Yeah, yeah, I got it, he thought, trying to maintain a neutral expression. Now just give me the money so I can afford lunch.
"So," he said with thinly restrained excitement, "I heard there's a reward for me?"
"Yes, of course," she replied, typing rapidly on her keyboard before checking a document. "For capturing the criminal known as Hammerhead, he had a B-Class bounty, he could have ascended to a major reward but you captured him before, so you will receive a reward of 700,000 yen, I'm sorry if isn't much."
Saitama tilted his head.
"Okay, wait. Not complaining or anything… but what do you mean by B-Class bounty?"
"Oh!" The secretary looked flustered, bowing again. "I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Saitama, I thought this had already been explained to you. Let me clarify."
She stood straighter and began with the tone of someone clearly repeating a memorized lecture.
"The Hero Association works in cooperation with government agencies to maintain national safety and enforce peace through a structured reward system. Criminals are categorized by bounty classes, similar to the hero ranking system. However, unlike hero rankings—which reflect your strength and contribution—bounty classes reflect the threat level, danger, and urgency of apprehension."
She continued without pause, like a walking instruction manual.
"C-Class criminals are minor offenders—public nuisances, repeat shoplifters, or habitual streakers. Their bounties range from 10,000 to 50,000 yen."
"Wait, did you say streakers?" Saitama asked, blinking.
"Yes," she said flatly. "You would be surprised how often that comes up."
"…Yeah. I would."
She cleared her throat.
"B-Class criminals—like Hammerhead—have committed violent crimes, such as aggravated assault, arson, or even manslaughter. They range between 75,000 and 2,000,000 yen."
"Not bad."
"A-Class criminals are your more dangerous figures—syndicate enforcers, major black-market dealers, armed robbers, and domestic terrorists. Their rewards range between 3 to 10 million yen."
Saitama leaned forward, starting to get interested.
"And then," she said, her tone shifting, "there's the S-Class bounties. The most elusive, powerful, and internationally dangerous individuals fall into this category. Assassins. War criminals. Rogue bioweapons. Alien invaders, even. These bounties range from 50 million to 500 million yen."
Saitama whistled low.
"Now that's what I'm talking about."
She nodded. "Naturally, few heroes are qualified to even approach S-Class targets. And now…" She turned back to her computer and typed again. "For the man you apprehended alongside Hammerhead—Speed-o'-Sound Sonic—he has been flagged in eight countries, is wanted by Interpol, and has been involved in over forty confirmed assassinations."
She paused.
"His bounty value is currently set at 200,000,000 yen."
Saitama blinked.
His jaw didn't drop. His heart didn't race. But his brain stalled.
Two hundred... million?
The room seemed to go silent. The only sound was the buzzing of fluorescent lights overhead and the dull hum of the secretary's monitor.
Wait. His thoughts scrambled for coherence. That's... like a million dollars, right?
He stared into space, eyes slowly widening. That's more money than I made in ten years of corporate hell…
"…Mr. Saitama?" the secretary asked, concerned.
He didn't answer. His mind was in another universe.
I… I can buy a new apartment. Hell, I can buy ten apartments. I can eat sushi every day. I could buy a new wardrobe. I could even—wait, does this mean I can finally ask Mizuki out without needing to split the bill?!
His body jolted back to reality.
"YES!!" he shouted suddenly, fist raised. "I mean… ahem, cool, yeah. That's cool."
The secretary blinked. "You seem… pleased."
"I am very professional," he replied, sweating slightly.
She handed him a slip. "Please take this to the finance department on the third floor. They'll process your reward and transfer it directly to your registered account."
He stared at the slip in his hand.
Hammerhead: ¥700,000
Sonic: ¥200,000,000
Total: ¥200,700,000
Saitama grinned like a man who had just defeated poverty itself.
"Thank you!" he said, practically skipping toward the elevator.
(10 minutes later…)
"Wow, I didn't know they made bank accounts specifically for heroes," Saitama muttered, stepping out of the Hero Association HQ. He stretched casually, his face neutral—but his brain was screaming.
200 million yen.
Two. Hundred. Million.
He hadn't physically changed. He still wore the same plain tracksuit, his face still looked like a boiled egg with eyes, but inside?
He felt like a king.
I could buy a car. I could buy a house. I could buy Genos a car and still have enough left over for ramen for life!
He grinned.
But first… home. Genos is probably already there.
When he reached the apartment, he opened the door to find something shocking.
The floor was clean.
The windows weren't fogged with weeks of dust and grime.
The table no longer had cup noodle stains from 18 different brands.
"…Am I in the wrong apartment?" he muttered.
That's when Genos stepped out of the kitchen area, holding a cleaning cloth and a garbage bag full of trash.
"Ah, Sensei. Welcome back. I took the liberty of cleaning your living space while you were away. I hope that's acceptable."
Saitama blinked.
"You… cleaned my apartment?"
"Yes. I have also reorganized your pantry by expiration date and disinfected the toilet. Additionally, I polished the kettle."
Saitama stared.
No. No one that good should exist. It's not fair to the rest of humanity.
"…Thanks, Genos. Seriously, I didn't even know the floor had this color."
Genos bowed his head slightly. "It is only my duty, Sensei."
"Right…" Saitama scratched the back of his head and dropped his bag by the door. "Anyway, I was out all day—caught some criminals, made some money, and now I'm officially part of the Hero Association."
"That is excellent news, Sensei."
"And you should join too."
Genos straightened, suddenly serious. "Understood. If that is your wish, I shall register immediately."
"H-Hey, wait!" Saitama waved his hands. "That's not… I'm not ordering you or anything. I just think it'd be good for you."
Genos tilted his head. "How so?"
"Well…" Saitama sat down on the clean couch, still amazed it didn't smell like mold anymore. "It'd give you a chance to compare your strength with other heroes. Get more experience. And maybe find some opponents who can actually push you, y'know?"
He leaned back.
"I mean, the world's a big place. You never know what kind of crazies are out there. The Hero Association is one way to stay in the loop."
Genos looked thoughtful for a moment. Then, suddenly, he dropped to one knee and bowed deeply.
"You speak with wisdom, Master. I will follow your guidance and submit my application tomorrow morning."
"Whoa, hey, tone it down. I'm not some old monk or anything."
"You are to me."
Saitama sighed and rubbed his temples.
What did I get myself into...? Still, it was kind of nice, having someone around. And not just anyone—someone who cleaned.
"…Hey Genos, since you're already up… could you cook dinner too?"
"Of course, Sensei."
…Yep. I hit the jackpot. And to top it, tomorrow I have a date with the hot athlete chick, life finally is good.
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