Chapter 35 – The Evolution of Garou
Z-City — Inside King's Apartment, the Home of the "Strongest Man on Earth."
Right now, Saitama, the bald hero, looked less like the planet's savior and more like a middle-aged man hopelessly addicted to video games.
"Take this! You're done for! This time for sure—I'm gonna beat you!!" he shouted, hammering the controller with pure intensity.
Meanwhile, sitting next to him, King leaned back on the couch, calm and composed, lazily holding his own controller between two fingers while biting into an apple.
Truly fitting for the title The Strongest Man Alive.
Out on the balcony, Zenin Kyūjō stood quietly, watching them. He waited no more than ten seconds.
When King's calm, calculated movements turned the match around and a loud "Defeat!" flashed across the screen, Saitama's anguished scream echoed through the apartment.
That was when Zenin Kyūjō finally stepped inside.
The moment Saitama saw him, the bald hero leapt up like a giant toddler throwing a tantrum, clinging to Kyūjō's arm and pointing accusingly at King.
"Kyūjō! You've gotta get revenge for me!" he wailed. "This jerk's been toying with me!"
King's expression turned serious immediately.
Of course it did.
Because there was one man King knew he could never defeat—
Zenin Kyūjō, the radiant symbol of City Z.
In terms of gaming skill? Kyūjō was untouchable.
No matter the genre—fighting games, shooters, racing, survival, strategy, even puzzles—
King had never beaten him once.
To King, Kyūjō wasn't just a gamer.
He was a god of games.
Kyūjō smiled gently, patting the bald hero's shiny head before looking at King with a calm yet challenging gaze.
"Well then, my old rival…" he said softly. "Show me how much you've improved."
"Let's see if the man who dared tease my little baldy… can withstand me now."
Before Saitama could react, Kyūjō's hand blurred—he picked up the fallen controller at a speed almost faster than light and took a seat.
That was when Saitama realized he'd been baited into yet another "duel of legends."
He raised a fist as if to protest, but one look at the two warriors sitting cross-legged on the carpet, controllers in hand, their eyes locked in sacred concentration—
and he froze.
Silently, he sat down behind them, face solemn, as though attending a divine ritual.
As the match began, Kyūjō glanced sideways at King, his tone casual but laced with sincerity.
"King, you've got real potential. For a normal human, your body's already exceptional. Apart from me and the bald one back there, you might just be the most gifted person on this planet."
"I left you a small gift," Kyūjō continued. "Out on your balcony—you'll find a set of breathing techniques I created just for you. Practice them when you have time. But don't rely on me. Adapt them. Evolve them. Make them yours."
He smiled faintly. "If you do, you might just become a true hero someday."
"Oh—and one more thing." His eyes glimmered. "Try to live longer than the bald one. If you can outlive him… you'll truly deserve the title of 'Strongest Man on Earth.'"
A soft click echoed.
On the TV screen, two massive letters appeared—K.O.
Kyūjō placed his controller down.
King sighed in defeat, while Saitama sat wide-eyed behind them, completely missing the deeper meaning in Kyūjō's words.
He only muttered under his breath, "He's unbeatable… even at games."
Then, clenching his fists, he vowed silently, Next time, I'll steal his techniques! King, you jerk!
— — —
One week later — X-City.
Three of the highest-ranking S-Class heroes had gathered together:
Bang, Rank 3 — Master of Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist.
Atomic Samurai, Rank 4 — A sword master whose blade could slice lightning itself.
Bomb, Bang's elder brother — Founder of Whirlwind Iron Cutting Fist, a martial artist whose strength surpassed even Bang's.
Their target: Garou, the Hero Hunter.
They believed this mission would be simple.
It wasn't.
At first, Garou was overwhelmed. Facing three masters of martial arts at once, he was cornered—bloodied, battered, on the verge of collapse.
But the longer the fight went on… the stronger he became.
Every movement, every strike, every dodge refined him further.
His muscles adapted. His senses sharpened. His instincts evolved.
And then—Garou changed.
His body transformed dramatically.
Thick black scales began spreading across his skin. His teeth sharpened into fangs, and long, curved claws extended from his fingers. His very aura twisted, becoming both monstrous and divine.
Yet—
He remained conscious.
Despite his monstrous appearance, Garou's mind was clearer than ever. His perception accelerated, and his ability to learn reached terrifying new heights.
In the midst of battle, he absorbed the fighting styles of Bang, Bomb, and Atomic Samurai—
and fused them together into something entirely new.
A technique born of chaos and evolution.
Monster Calamity God Slayer Fist.
That name would later shake the world.
With it, Garou defeated all three S-Class heroes in a battle that left X-City in ruins.
But before the transformation fully overtook him, before his humanity could vanish completely—
Garou forced himself to retreat.
He disappeared into the night, leaving behind nothing but destruction and disbelief.
— — —
According to Bang, Garou's new technique was beyond comprehension.
It wasn't Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist.
It wasn't Whirlwind Iron Cutting Fist.
It wasn't Lake-Cutting Glacier Fist, Mountain Path Oblivion Fist, Void Demon Venom Fist, or even Summit-Rising Dragon Fist.
It was something else entirely—
a synthesis of every martial discipline he'd ever encountered, refined through endless combat and pure survival instinct.
A fighting art capable of:
Crushing meteor showers with a single strike,
Tracking the speed of Atomic Samurai's Atomic Slash,
Attacking from all angles simultaneously, leaving no blind spot,
Slaying Dragon-level monsters in a heartbeat.
It was the pinnacle of martial evolution—
the union of human strength and cosmic instinct.
A technique not meant for mortals.
And yet, Garou wielded it.
Bang could only tremble in awe—and guilt.
Because no matter how the world would come to fear Garou,
the truth was undeniable:
He was the one who trained him.
The birth of a living catastrophe…
was his sin to bear.
— — —
Later, as Zenin Kyūjō watched the recorded footage Blast had sent him, he quietly exhaled.
His reflection shimmered in the screen—eyes calm, yet burning with determination.
"So… it's time."
He smiled faintly, almost wistfully.
"The one I've chosen as my final opponent… has finally arrived."
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