Chapter 8: "Blood, Bottled and Blessed"
Saitama wasn't the kind of guy who liked overthinking things. Thinking too hard got you wrinkles and anxiety, and none of that helped when you had to grocery shop on a budget.
But tonight?
Tonight, the bald caped man was deep in thought. He sat on the edge of a crumbling rooftop, chewing jerky like it was the key to enlightenment, eyes fixed on the sunset like he was waiting for a final boss monologue.
He'd just cleared a bunch of mid-level monsters from the city—giant cockroaches with flame-throwers or something. One punch each, boom, bye-bye.
"Too easy," he muttered, slapping his thigh in frustration. "I didn't even get to break a sweat."
It had been years since Saitama had felt anything close to a challenge. Enemies came. Enemies screamed. Saitama yawned. Enemies exploded.
But now?
Now there were rumors.
Whispers in the wind. Legends reawakened. Hero Association gossip channels lighting up like Genos at an all-you-can-replace body part sale.
A name was floating around again:
Uzumaki Naruto.
"The Immortal Sage."
"Master of All Combat."
"Can delete existence with a thought."
"Might be allergic to shirts."
Saitama had rolled his eyes at first. But then he saw the footage.
A guy built like a skyscraper caught Bang's punch without flinching.
And then his companion, a masked girl with the presence of a caffeine-addicted immortaldess, one-shotted Genos like she was swatting a fly.
"That guy," Saitama said, standing up. "He's like me…"
A being too strong for the world.
Bored.
Detached.
Desperate for something fun.
His fingers flexed. The urge to fight—a real fight, one that didn't end before his muscles even got warm—boiled up inside him like a microwave burrito.
"Yeah, he'd totally be down," Saitama muttered, punching his palm with a grin. "A guy like that? Probably bored outta his mind."
Right then, the universe sent a cruel reminder that not all problems were giant titanic beasts.
Bzzzzz.
A mosquito buzzed by his ear.
Saitama slapped it.
Missed.
Another joined. Then five. Then fifty.
"Oh come on."
The sky dimmed. He looked up and saw a swarm.
Thousands of them, buzzing in a dark tornado above him like they had a vendetta against bald men.
They dove at him.
Tried to suck his blood.
Needles bent. Proboscises snapped.
"My skin isn't on the menu," he said calmly.
Then, Saitama did what Saitama did best.
He punched.
Just air.
BOOOOM.
The entire rooftop cracked from the wind pressure. Mosquitoes disintegrated like unfortunate rice crackers.
But more came.
His eyes narrowed. He wasn't annoyed anymore.
He was interested.
"That's…weird. Even for mosquitoes."
With one hop, he was off the rooftop and zooming toward the swarm's center. Something was wrong. This wasn't nature. Someone—or something—was stirring the pot.
And so Saitama did what every bored, overpowered hero does when the sun sets and destiny knocks:
He put on his serious face.
And went looking for a fight.
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Naruto had faced some weird things in his life.
But nothing—nothing—could have prepared him for the absolute fever dream happening in front of him.
The Mosquito Queen stood proudly, like an overgrown runway model cosplaying as a mosquito, if the costume budget had been provided by Satan. She had a killer figure, six limbs, and enough creepy-crawly vibes to haunt Naruto's nightmares till the next apocalypse.
Her compound eyes shimmered in the sun. Her abdomen twitched. Her wings buzzed like someone had turbocharged a blender. She tilted her head in a playful, too-cute-to-be-legal way.
"My, my… so this is the blood that turned my little ones to ash?" she cooed, licking her lips with an actual proboscis. "It smells divine… May I drink it, Sage?"
Naruto blinked. "Uh… no?"
"In exchange," she purred, one hip cocked, "I'll become yours. Body, mind, and swarm."
There was a long silence.
A dangerous one.
The kind of silence that made thunderclouds reconsider showing up.
Konan, now mercifully clothed—because Naruto had begged her to stop traumatizing innocent citizens—stood beside him. Her eyes darkened like black holes about to consume reality. Her heels clicked once against the pavement. The ground cracked.
"You dare," she said, her voice calm, "ask for the divine blood… as if it were yours by right?"
Mosquito Girl blinked, confused.
"Y-yes?"
Wrong answer.
"You shall beg, you worm." Konan declared, pointing her finger like she was about to drop divine judgment. "You will kneel before my Lord, and if—if—he is feeling generous, you may taste a drop."
"Hold up, what?" Naruto tried to interrupt, but no one was listening to him. Again.
Konan wasn't finished. She whipped out her spiked chain-whip from her sleeves, because of course she had a whip. Probably kept in an alternate dimension for dramatic effect.
"Grovel, insect," Konan said, glowing ominously. "You're too arrogant to be useful. Strip away that pride, or burn."
Mosquito Girl hesitated.
Her wings fluttered. Her antennae twitched. And then… she dropped to her knees like she'd just been hit with the holy commandment of bloodthirsty dominance.
"Forgive me, Divine Sage," she whispered, lowering her head. "Please… grant me the honor… of becoming your humble servant."
Naruto just stood there. Stiff. Unmoving.
'Why is my life like this? I just wanted grilled fish and maybe some tea.'
'Now I have a death immortal with a whip, a bug-lady drinking my imaginary blood, and a title like I'm some kind of Vampire Jesus.'
Konan looked pleased. Mosquito Girl looked… excited? Disturbing. She started hovering again, her hands clasped in prayer like Naruto was some kind of blood immortal.
"You will be my swarm's new nest," she said with a dreamy sigh. "We will defend you with all our wings, Lord."
'Oh great. I've unlocked the cult side quest,' Naruto thought miserably.
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Just as Naruto was mentally calculating how many bowls of soup it would take to feel like life was worth living again—boom.
A fist-shaped hurricane of destruction punched straight through the sky, homing in on Mosquito Girl like someone had rage-quit reality and thrown their controller. Time practically broke. Mosquito Girl didn't even blink. She couldn't. Her circuits couldn't register the speed.
But someone else did.
CRACK—BOOOOM!
Konan appeared midair like a vengeance immortaldess with combat heels. Her fist met the incoming attack, and the air exploded. Buildings shook. Streetlights cried. Gravity took a ten-second vacation. Dust blasted outward in a full 360 arc, flattening trees and giving the sky a headache.
Even Naruto's luxurious hair puffed up from the pressure.
He squinted through the dust—and saw him.
A man in a yellow jumpsuit, white cape, and a face so aggressively bald that it reflected sunlight like a divine beacon of mid-life crisis.
"What power…" Naruto muttered as he instinctively stepped back, legs wobbling like wet noodles.
It wasn't the strength of the punch that scared him.
It was the fact that Konan had to block it.
Which meant… she couldn't ignore it.
And if she couldn't ignore it—
"Lord Uzumaki," Konan pouted dramatically, still midair but now sulking like a kicked puppy, "please don't stain your hands with such low-level pests. That's my job."
She floated down and latched onto his arm like a clingy koala, looking up at him with deadly devotion.
Naruto, whose internal organs were performing synchronized panic flips, nodded like a brave, terrified idiot.
"Y-you have my permission. Just… try not to crack the continent."
"Yes, my Lord!" she beamed, deadly eyes sparkling.
That's when the bald guy walked out from the dust like he was returning a library book, not punching through molecular walls.
"Hello," he said, casual as tea on a Sunday.
"Hello," Naruto responded, not sure what else to do when Death walks up to you wearing discount pajamas.
"Next time," Naruto said, "be careful with wild attacks."
Naruto's brain wanted to apologize. His face, on the other hand, decided this was a great moment to act chill.
"No problem. It allowed me to find you," the man added.
'That's not creepy at all,' Naruto thought as his spine planned to abandon ship.
"Ah, so it's a challenger," Naruto said, dramatically folding his arms and trying to look taller, even though he was already 4 meters tall.
"Yes," said the man, stepping forward, flames of youth (and possible obsession) glowing in his eyes. "I want to have some fun. And I think you do too."
Before Naruto could respond with 'I'd rather not die, thanks,' Konan swooped in like a scorned dragon-immortaldess.
"Back off, baldy. You need to get through me before you even think about touching my Lord."
Saitama blinked. Then looked at Konan. Then Naruto.
Naruto swallowed. This was escalating fast.
Time to deploy Plan B: Fake it 'til you don't explode.
"Let's postpone this battle," Naruto said, waving his hand like he was brushing aside a petty global catastrophe. "I've just awoken from a long slumber. If we fought now… the planet might not survive."
He casually imagined the weeds in his garden getting vaporized and winced. That would be tragic.
Saitama stroked his chin, serious for a moment.
"Okay," he nodded. "That's reasonable. I'll wait. Name's Saitama."
And just like that, he turned around and walked away, like the casually world-ending monk he was.
Naruto exhaled so hard he almost passed out.
He turned to Konan, who looked pleased with herself. The battlefield was a smoldering crater, black flames still licking the edges of the street.
"Let's go," he said. "Maybe get some tea. Also maybe… therapy."
Mosquito Girl, meanwhile, watched everything with a dazed expression. She had thought the Sage's blood was divine.
But now, she understood.
It wasn't just his power.
It was the people around him.
Konan, who could burn heaven itself for a compliment.
Saitama, who could shatter fate with a punch.
"Monsters come in all forms," she whispered, trembling with reverence.
"And I… serve the greatest of them all."
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Naruto returned home with the mental fatigue of ten philosophers and the physical exhaustion of a cat who had accidentally been made king of the jungle.
Behind him trailed two very different problems:
Konan – Obsessive, fanatical, horrifyingly powerful, and currently humming a cheerful tune while floating behind him like a deadly balloon.
Mosquito Girl – A literal insect queen with high heels, predatory grace, and a disturbingly professional air of loyalty… paired with thirst. Literal bloodthirst.
Naruto sat on the massive couch of his luxurious mansion and tried not to panic when Mosquito girl gracefully knelt beside him, crossing her arms like royalty and fixing him with her crimson eyes.
"My Lord," she said smoothly, "may this humble servant request… a name?"
Naruto blinked. "You don't have one?"
"I had one once," she said, gaze distant, "but it was given by my creator. You are my true master now."
Konan made an unimpressed sound. Naruto glanced at her. She was pretending not to care but absolutely glaring like a jealous dragon.
"Um… Delta," Naruto said suddenly.
Both women blinked.
"Delta?" Konan echoed.
"Yes," Naruto shrugged. "I don't know why. It just… feels right."
Delta bowed with absolute reverence. "Then I am reborn. Delta, servant of the Sage."
Naruto sighed, rubbed his temples, and gestured for them to sit.
"Okay. Girls—uh, ladies—listen. We are heroes. That means protecting the world. Not destroying it, burning it, whipping it, or vaporizing it because someone sneezed wrong."
He gave them the dad-stare. The serious kind.
"No death. No destruction. Minimize harm. Save lives. Got it?"
Konan saluted dramatically. "Thy will is law."
Delta placed a hand on her heart and nodded. "As you command, my Lord."
Naruto was about to sigh in relief until he noticed Delta eyeing him like he was a rare, aged, five-star bloodwine.
"You want blood, don't you?"
"Yes," she admitted, almost purring. "Even a drop would fulfill me for centuries."
Naruto looked at Konan, expecting her to say "no" or possibly immolate Delta.
Instead, Konan folded her arms and scowled.
"Absolutely not. My Lord's blood is too divine. If she drank even a drop, she would disintegrate from blessed overload. It must be diluted."
"Uh… like… in tea?"
"No. Holy water."
"We don't have holy water."
"Then 19 liters of neutral distilled water," Konan replied like she was reciting a sacred recipe.
Naruto stared at her.
"Seriously?"
"Unless you want her head to explode, yes."
Naruto, deeply disturbed but too tired to argue, bit his finger, letting a single drop of blood fall into a 19-liter water container that Konan had produced from somewhere (Naruto suspected she had a pocket dimension).
The blood swirled dramatically, glowing ominously, as if trying to convert the entire bottle into a divine artifact.
Delta looked at it like it was the Holy Grail, the Philosopher's Stone, and a five-course meal wrapped into one.
"Drink," Konan said, like a priestess conducting a sacred ritual.
Delta took a sip.
Her eyes widened.
Her wings flared.
She trembled.
Then she collapsed dramatically onto the floor, muttering:
"So… blissful… I taste… divinity…"
Konan nodded proudly. "See? Proper blood management is important."
Naruto just lay down on the couch again, draping a towel over his face.
"I used to be a farmer," he mumbled.