Chapter 4: "Please Just Give the Giant Man a Sandwich"
If you asked Genos how his day was going, he'd say:
"Target tracking: failed.
Civilian protection: pending.
Wall integrity: 0%.
Conclusion: Not optimal."
He'd been following his revered master, the mysterious Caped Baldy—a man so powerful he could end apocalypse-level threats in his pajamas—and then the unthinkable happened.
Saitama got distracted by a discount on spring onions.
Genos tried to follow him, as any good disciple would. But then the city shook, alarms blared, and something metallic—and vaguely chair-shaped—flew through the sky like a ballistic office supply.
Duty over discount veggies. He turned and raced to the source.
Now here he stood inside the Hero Association testing center, surrounded by wreckage and very uncomfortable silence.
Two staffers were hiding behind a desk like it was a war trench. One man—massive, terrifying, and absurdly polite—stood like a boulder in the middle of the room. And next to him…
A woman. Smiling like a death cult prophet. Holding a whip that radiated doom.
"What kind of monster is that?" Genos wondered, analyzing Naruto's power signature.
The results came back as:
Power Level – Unknown
Threat Level – ???
Status – Might be a walking apocalypse. Might be a farmer. Proceed with caution.
Before Genos could draw conclusions, he heard the woman's voice:
"If I win against him, then my Lord will be granted S-rank?"
Ah. So they were here for the hero registration exam.
Genos relaxed, just slightly. The man wasn't a monster. Probably. Just looked like one.
"I believe it would be better for you to take your time and grow," Genos said, stepping forward calmly. "Fighting between heroes is not—statistically or ethically—a logical option. It would hinder your combat efficiency and reflect poorly on the organization."
And that was when Konan, the embodiment of 'too much,' turned around and smiled.
Not a cute smile. Not a pleasant smile.
A "you're about to meet your maker" smile.
She raised her whip, which was now glowing with purple energy, the kind that made walls crack and the air taste like death. Her feet floated off the floor. Her aura warped the lights. Paperwork burst into flames.
"That's not for you to decide," she purred. "Be honored, cyborg. I shall show you 0.01% of my Lord's power. Feel it in your soul. Weep in reverence, you heathen."
Genos's processors kicked into ultra-high threat mode.
The air itself screamed. The oxygen wanted to leave. Even the cockroach hiding under the vending machine noped out.
And in the middle of it all, poor Naruto—who was still not sure how any of this was his fault—was doing his best not to cry.
'HUH!? WHAT POWER?!' Naruto screamed internally. 'Why is she glowing?! What does she mean my power?! I just wanted to grow tomatoes and live a quiet life!'
But nope. Life had decided that Naruto Uzumaki, immortal farmer and professional coward, was now the figurehead of a goddess of destruction who genuinely believed she was channeling his energy.
'I've lived for hundreds of years and never felt a single special thing!' Naruto thought. 'The only power I've ever had was my ability to weed cabbage without crying.'
Genos stared at the growing energy field.
This was bad.
This was seriously bad.
He entered a defensive stance, hands glowing with plasma.
"Miss, I must insist you cease immediately or I will be forced to defend myself."
Konan tilted her head like a predator toying with its prey.
"Very well. Let my Lord's will smite thee."
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There are bad days, and then there are "My fanatic accidentally broke an S-Rank hero in front of HR" days.
Unfortunately for Naruto Uzumaki, this was the second kind.
Genos had gone into serious mode, which was basically him upgrading from "mildly irritated toaster" to "full plasma-powered death blender." His eyes glowed. His systems ran heat signatures, force calculations, and risk estimates in nanoseconds.
And they all said one thing:
❌ Do not engage.
❌ She is not normal.
❌ You are about to be whipped. Literally.
"Please," Genos tried again, his voice composed but strained. "Let's not make any foolish moves."
He glanced toward Naruto, hoping—praying—the man might calm his psycho groupie down.
Instead, what he saw was… terrifying.
Naruto wasn't angry. He wasn't excited.
He looked checked out.
Like a dad who just wanted to grill vegetables and not deal with the fate of civilization today.
'That guy… he wouldn't even flinch if this place exploded,' Genos realized, feeling an entirely new kind of fear settle into his core.
He backed away.
Big mistake.
"Don't try to run, you maggot."
CRACK.
The whip lashed through the air and wrapped around his waist before he could even blink. Genos's body slammed into the ground hard enough to crack the reinforced cement and shake the entire Hero Association building.
Staffers screamed and dove under desks.
Konan didn't stop.
She jumped on his back with the grace of a gymnast and the murderous energy of a heel-wielding demon queen.
And then she spun.
On his spine.
"ACK—SYSTEM FAILING—" Genos gasped as sparks flew from his body like discount fireworks. Metal plates twisted. His limbs detached. One arm slapped a filing cabinet.
He was done.
Utterly. Absolutely. Catastrophically done.
Konan planted her heel in his back like she was claiming a throne and cracked her whip for emphasis. Her smile was terrifying and probably illegal in eight countries.
"As I said," she declared, "my Lord could erase these maggots with a breath. Inform your higher-ups. Prepare a house. And serve him only the finest meals. You've been graced by his presence."
With that, she kicked Genos toward the trembling staff like she was punting a football.
He landed in a heap, mostly melted, mostly metal, and definitely miserable.
The female staffer who'd been enthusiastic just fifteen minutes ago? She looked ready to call it quits and move to the countryside to raise alpacas.
'We found an S-Rank, alright,' she thought, her heart pounding. 'But he feels less like a hero and more like the final boss.'
Then, Genos—his head barely attached—spoke.
"Just… do what they said," he rasped. "If that… ends the tension…"
The staff nodded so fast their necks nearly snapped.
Meanwhile, Naruto—sweet, traumatized, and dangerously unaware of his own reputation—felt a deep pang of guilt.
He gently picked up what remained of Genos with massive hands, like cradling a cybernetic kitten.
'He was just doing his job… He tried so hard… and now he's soup in a metal can. I have to get a handle on Konan or I'll be held responsible for mass destruction. Again.'
Naruto turned to the staff, trying his best to sound calm and reasonable.
"Please prepare a house and deliver some basic supplies," he said kindly. "We'll follow your rules. I know I look scary, but I promise—I'm not a bad guy."
Nice words.
Terrible delivery.
Because when Naruto speaks, his voice rumbles like the end times. When he smiles, it shines like a demon lord entering his final form. And when his red eyes glow?
Even the vending machine powered down.
The staff nodded, smiling like hostages who knew they wouldn't survive the negotiation anyway.
Naruto sighed and looked at his reflection in the glass.
'I look average, damn it! I'm just a normal, oversized guy with immortality, a scary aura, and a psycho whip-wielding disciple. Why does everyone act like I'm a god-tier villain?'
Konan stood beside him, humming like she hadn't just murdered a cyborg in front of witnesses.
Naruto looked down at Genos.
"You alright, kid?"
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If you ever find yourself rebuilding your spine after getting wrecked by a barely-dressed fanatical dominatrix, and then politely thanking her cult leader, congrats.
You're Genos.
And he was having a weird day, even by cyborg standards.
Naruto looked down at him with eyes like burning rubies and asked, genuinely:
"Is there anything I can help you with?"
The polite tone didn't match the earthquake-tier voice, or the nuclear reaper vibe that rolled off him like a spicy aura of doom.
But Genos hesitated.
Not out of fear.
Out of confusion.
'He radiates cosmic murder… but he's cradling me like a grandma with a broken toaster. What is this guy?'
"Thank you," Genos finally said, trying not to wince as his systems flickered. "But if possible, please avoid any further… collateral damage."
Naruto nodded, solemnly. "Of course."
A simple answer. Clear. Respectful.
Terrifying.
It sounded like a mountain promising not to fall on your house again—probably.
Genos gave a slight nod. "Then please just set me down. My pickup will be here shortly. And if you don't mind… may I bring my master to meet you?"
That made Naruto pause.
'Your master?' he thought. 'The guy who trained you into a half-melted tin can?'
Naruto wasn't exactly thrilled to meet a person who had this much effect on a walking war machine, but… guilt is a powerful thing. He was raised right, even if he couldn't remember who raised him.
"I'll think about it," Naruto said as he set Genos down gently, like placing a sleepy child on a sofa.
"For now, I'd really just like to relax."
"Good enough," Genos replied, then promptly shut down with a soft beep, steam hissing from a dozen vents.
That was when Konan—also known as Super S, war criminal in the making and emotional wrecking ball—ran up and hugged Naruto's leg like a plush toy with violent tendencies.
"Lord Uzumaki, thank you for letting me use your power. I've never felt such divine energy before. Such honor! Such ecstasy!"
Naruto gave her a look that could only be described as "Please stop saying things that sound like I'm a god when I'm just a starving farmer."
Before he could say anything, one of the Hero Association staffers (the conscious one) walked up.
She was smiling in that way people smile when they're trying to please a dragon while also hiding their fear of imminent incineration.
"Master Na—Lord Uzumaki," she corrected, gulping, "we've contacted our supervisor. A residence has been arranged for your stay. If you'll please follow me…"
The male staffer behind her was slumped over in a chair, out cold. Probably traumatized. Maybe dreaming about opening a bakery far, far away from monster queens and casually apocalyptic farmers.
Naruto nodded, scooped Konan back onto his shoulder—because what else was he supposed to do with his personal chaos gremlin—and followed.
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The journey through the Hero Association Headquarters was a weird one.
On one hand, people stared. A lot. And ran. A lot.
On the other, the path was cleared like he was royalty, and everyone whispered behind his back like he was a nuclear deterrent disguised as a kind uncle.
"Who is that?"
"Is that the Sage?"
"Why does he have a dominatrix on his shoulder?"
"Shh! Don't make eye contact!"
Naruto, for his part, was just trying to keep his steps small enough so he didn't accidentally squash the kind lady leading him. She was barely 1.8 meters tall and walked like she had never had to guide a walking skyscraper before.
'Finally,' Naruto thought. 'I can relax. Maybe even eat. My legs are shaking, my soul is tired, and I swear my stomach is growling loud enough to register on satellites.'
Konan, meanwhile, had one arm around his neck and was humming like a content cat. Her smile said: I just maimed a national hero, and my day is going great.
"Uzumaki-sama," she whispered. "Do you think they'll offer you a kingdom soon?"
Naruto closed his eyes.
'Please don't give them ideas.'
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If you ever told Saitama, the strongest man alive, that his life would get boring because of how strong he was, he would've believed you.
He wouldn't have liked it, but he would've agreed.
And right now, he was slouched on the floor of his tiny apartment, watching a late-night show about cooking squid with psychic onions, wearing his iconic hero costume—hoodie and boxers combo, because laundry day had lost all meaning.
Then the call came in.
Genos.
Saitama sighed and picked up. "Yeah?"
"You said what?" Saitama blinked, half a rice cracker sticking out of his mouth.
"I said," Genos replied through the speaker, completely serious, "I've found someone you might actually be able to fight, Master."
That woke Saitama up more than caffeine ever could.
"Go on…"
"He calls himself Naruto Uzumaki."
"...Sounds like a ramen shop owner."
"No, Master. He's a farmer."
"Okay, now he definitely sounds like a ramen shop owner."
"But," Genos continued, tone dropping into his signature dramatic narrator voice, "rumors say he has the power to crush the planet with a single thought and consume the sun when he's hungry."
There was silence on the line.
Saitama blinked.
"...Did you just say eat the sun?"
"Yes."
A beat passed.
Saitama turned off the TV. He sat up straighter.
Then leaned back.
Then slouched again.
Because hope? Dangerous. Hope meant disappointment later. Hope meant another cosmic-level threat that turned out to be a squirrel with good PR.
"I'll believe it when I see it," Saitama muttered. "Last time I fought someone who 'could destroy planets,' he ended up crying and asking for his mom."
Genos ignored the sarcasm.
"Regardless, Master, this individual is not an exaggeration. His power is the real deal. The sensors couldn't even analyze his aura. And… he didn't even fight. His companion, a woman named Konan, handled everything. She crushed me like a soda can."
"That explains why your voice sounds like a dying air fryer."
"Yes. I am undergoing repairs as we speak. But I asked him to meet you. He said not right now. He wishes to rest."
Saitama frowned. "So I finally get a chance to meet someone strong—and he wants a nap?"
"He said maybe in a month or two."
"Great," Saitama muttered, flopping back onto the floor. "That gives me time to finish season three of Psychic Siblings Cook-Off."
Genos continued, unbothered. "I believe this will be worth the wait, Master. He doesn't desire destruction. He's kind. Gentle. But terrifying."
"Yeah? Sounds familiar," Saitama mumbled, staring at his blank screen now.
"Alright, good work. Come home soon, or I'll have to go shopping myself. Again."
He hung up.
The room went silent, save for the distant hum of the fridge and the existential loneliness that came with being too powerful for literally everything.
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Somewhere, far across the city, Naruto was staring down at a vending machine that wouldn't accept his money because his fingers were too big.
Konan stood next to him, aggressively glaring at it like the machine had insulted her bloodline.
"Uzumaki-sama, allow me to slay this insolent box."
"Konan, it's just a vending machine."
"It is mocking your hunger."
Naruto sighed.
'How did I go from peaceful gardening to this madness?'