"Genos, the most important thing in hotpot is the freshness of the ingredients."
Saitama lifted a head of cabbage, shaking it with great seriousness. "Look at how crisp and juicy these leaves are—this is the essence of it... of course, mostly because it's on sale today."
Genos nodded earnestly, scribbling in his notebook at lightning speed. "Understood, sensei. 'Sales are the soul of hotpot.' I will remember this rule."
Zeke's heart suddenly jolted.
Thump!
A deep, thunder-like beat echoed through his chest, and even the air around him seemed to ripple.
The Emperor Engine—had activated on its own!
Almost instantly, both Saitama and Genos turned toward him, eyes sharp as arrows.
"That heartbeat..." Genos's mechanical eye locked onto Zeke. "Sensei, detecting abnormal biological activity!"
Saitama, on the other hand, looked more confused. "Hmm... sounds kinda familiar..."
Cold sweat drenched Zeke's back in an instant.
He quickly steadied his breathing, forcing himself to calm down.
The rumble of the Emperor Engine slowly faded—but it was too late.
Genos had already approached, his golden mechanical eye glowing with a dangerous red light.
"Who are you? Why do you have such an abnormal physiological reaction?"
Zeke took a deep breath and slowly lifted his head, letting the brim of his cap rise enough to reveal the full set of scars on his face.
"King...?" Genos paused in clear surprise. "S-Class Hero, ranked 7th... King?"
Behind him, Saitama's eyes lit up. "Oh! Sounds pretty strong!"
Zeke: "..."
That reaction… Classic Saitama.
But Genos remained wary. "According to records, King's 'Emperor Engine' is a combat-triggered ability, but the frequency of your heartbeat just now doesn't match anything in the database—"
"Genos," Saitama interrupted, patting his disciple's shoulder. "Relax. Maybe the guy just... I dunno, has a loud heartbeat?"
Zeke nearly laughed out loud.
That was Saitama logic for you.
"Saitama-kun, Genos-kun," Zeke said with a smile, "this must be fate."
He raised the heavy shopping bag in his hand. Inside, thick slabs of marbled wagyu glistened beneath the plastic wrap under the mall lights.
"I just bought some excellent beef. I was planning to make hotpot at home. If you don't mind, why not come by for a visit?"
He gave the bag a little shake. The premium marbling danced under the plastic, practically shimmering.
Genos frowned slightly, reflexively replying, "Sensei, we still have—"
He instinctively assumed such an invitation would disturb Saitama's peace, or more specifically, his precious time watching TV or gaming.
"—We're going!" Saitama's voice shot up a full octave, his eyes locked on the shopping bag, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly.
He raised the lone item in his own basket—a single head of cabbage. "I just so happened to get the vegetables!"
Zeke noticed the discount sticker on the cabbage: 39 yen, limited-time offer. The edges were already slightly wilted.
The wagyu in his own bag? A single slab cost 28,000 yen.
For Saitama—who lived off supermarket deals and convenience store discount bento boxes—premium wagyu was a mythical ingredient.
His hotpots usually starred discount cabbage and the cheapest sliced pork he could find.
Genos opened his mouth again, but Saitama had already slapped a firm hand on his shoulder. "Genos, King-san is being really generous. It'd be rude to refuse!"
Genos bowed at a perfect ninety degrees. "Then, forgive us for intruding."
His posture was straight out of an etiquette manual.
"You don't have to be so formal..." Zeke scratched his cheek awkwardly.
He knew well the life he was enjoying now.
The high-end apartment, the generous monthly hero stipend, the ability to casually buy top-tier wagyu from the supermarket—
It was all thanks, in large part, to the bald man in front of him.
In the original story, whenever disaster struck, King always "happened" to be on the scene after the chaos was dealt with—while the real savior, Saitama, quietly slipped away.
Naturally, the Hero Association gave the credit to the only one present: King.
Zeke silently vowed to repay this kindness someday—at least in the realm of gaming.
Like playing fighting games using only two fingers.
With King's natural gamer skills combined with his own top-tier eSports experience from his past life, he was basically a walking cheat code now.
Saitama turned to Zeke with a rare, radiant smile. "Let's go to your place, then! Can't run at full speed in the city. Genos, carry us!"
Saitama couldn't wait to taste that premium beef.
"Yes, sensei," Genos replied, glancing at Zeke. "King-san, just to confirm… you're using a clear broth base for the hotpot, right? Sensei can't handle spicy food."
"Of course," Zeke nodded, chuckling inside.
Who would've thought the world's strongest bald-headed hero feared spice?
That little detail never came up in the original.
The three of them took off from a concealed spot near the mall.
Genos's thrusters blazed blue as he lifted off—one arm carrying Saitama, the other holding the shopping bags.
Zeke, on the other hand, was being carried by the back of his collar like a kitten.
The bald hero seemed completely unaware of how terrifying "flying by collar" might be for a normal person.
Wind roared in his ears. Zeke clenched his eyes shut, afraid he'd hurl the moment he opened them.
His heart pounded wildly again—but this time, it was pure terror.
"Huh?" Saitama's voice cut through the wind. "King, your heartbeat is super loud."
"Emperor Engine!" Genos immediately went into battle mode. "King-san, have you detected a suspicious monster?!"
"No..." Zeke forced the words out, "I'm just... afraid of heights..."
Five minutes later, the three of them landed on the balcony of Zeke's apartment.
Zeke's legs were jelly as he staggered into the living room, while Saitama charged straight into the kitchen like he owned the place.
"Where's the pot? Got a portable stove? I'll prep the beef!"
Genos followed behind like a nervous housewife. "Sensei, please allow me..."
Zeke took the opportunity to slip away into the guest room, carrying the metal case containing the cybernetic limbs.
The moment she heard the door open, Mosquito Girl tensed up, her blood-red eyes glinting in the dark.
"Don't make a sound," Zeke whispered. "We have guests outside."
He opened the case and took out the limbs.
Mosquito Girl's eyes lit up immediately—then narrowed with suspicion.
"Are these... for me?" she asked softly.
"Yes," Zeke replied, lifting one of the arms. "But remember—the control is in my hands."
He shook the black wristband on his arm. "Step out of line, and you go right back to being a torso."
Mosquito Girl nodded fearfully. But as Zeke began installing the limbs, her expression turned complicated.
There was a slight sting at the joints where metal met flesh—but what followed was the long-forgotten sensation of having limbs again.
Once the final leg was attached, she cautiously flexed her fingers.
The silver-gray joints responded smoothly to her neural impulses, nearly indistinguishable from the real thing.
"Try standing," Zeke ordered.
Mosquito Girl trembled as she pushed herself upright.
"Thank you..." she said instinctively—then quickly slapped a hand over her mouth in terror, fearing she'd anger him.
Zeke only smirked, pulling a dark red blood block from a shopping bag and tossing it her way.
"Make it last. That chunk should hold you for a week."
Mosquito Girl caught it like a treasure, her sharp fangs piercing the plastic wrap instantly.
But after the first cold bite slid down her throat, she frowned in disappointment.
It was nothing compared to fresh, warm blood.
Still, when she saw Zeke's cold gaze, she lowered her head and quietly resumed sipping.
[Ding! Gained 50 Intimidation Points from Mosquito Girl's conflicting emotions of freedom and fear.]
Satisfied, Zeke turned to leave. Then he paused, turned back, and said casually:
"Oh, by the way—the bald guy outside? He's the one who wrecked you."
"Pfhh!" Mosquito Girl spat out blood. Her limbs went stiff. "H-h-he's… out there?!"
"In the kitchen. Cooking hotpot."
Zeke's smile twisted into something malicious. "So you'd better stay quiet, got it? That hotpot is the favor I begged him for—to make up for all the trouble you caused. Understand?"
For now, her training was still in its early stages. She wasn't ready to meet Saitama or Genos.
Mosquito Girl nodded frantically—so fast it looked like her neck might snap.
[Ding! Gained 100 Intimidation Points from Mosquito Girl's emotional clash of gratitude and terror.]
She hugged the blood block and scurried to the farthest corner of the room, holding her breath as if afraid even that might draw attention.