"Civilian?"
Hearing Saitama's chosen label, Jerry felt it couldn't be more fitting. He was about to say a few more words when Saitama was already striding toward the junkyard.
Andrew said, "Don't mind him, Jerry—he's always that cool."
He struck a dramatic "so cool" pose, drawing a round of laughter. The next second, Andrew snapped to attention and saluted the beat cop. "Jerry, we're leaving the rest to you. Watch everyone coming and going around here. If any Decepticons show up, report to us in advance!"
"You got it, pal!"
Jerry flashed an "I'm on it" gesture and watched the group move out. Back in his blue prefab booth, he clicked his tongue. "Can't lie—'One Punch Man' really does fit."
Saitama walked deeper into the junkyard.
Knowing they had finally shaken off the Decepticons—for now—he let himself relax a little.
Then he saw a strange red robot doing a handstand, spinning atop a scrapped car. Circling him was a winged skeletal dragon.
"Oh… so that's the red swordsman from Transformers 5," Saitama thought. He didn't know the big guy's actual name, so he gave him a nickname and watched with mild curiosity.
"Hey, human—you're not afraid of me?" the red swordsman asked.
"Why would I be?" Saitama answered, continuing on.
Just as he was about to pass the two machines, another robot crawled out from beneath a junked car, clearly just waking up.
"Whew—" it whistled, looking like it wanted to stir trouble. "Looks like another big-shot just entered our turf! Sword Fiend, why don't you go test him?"
"Why should I? Why don't you?" the red swordsman shot back.
"Che—boring! I knew you were a coward."
"Coward? Who are you calling a coward?!"
The two bots started brawling right there in the sand-caked yard. The shockwaves from their scuffle washed over Andrew, the girl, the blue beetle-like bot, and the others, forcing them to halt outside.
Inside, Saitama spotted a brown-haired middle-aged man who looked thoroughly fed up, shouting toward the door, "You two, knock it off!"
As he yelled, the gruff uncle hurled a whiskey bottle.
Saitama snatched it out of the air. "You're Cade, right? The guy who used to be friends with Optimus Prime?"
At the mention of Megatron's name and that world, Cade sprang from the sofa, shouldered his rifle, and rushed to the door.
"Who are you? How do you know me? Why haven't I seen you before? And what do you want with Optimus Prime?!"
Saitama raised both hands. "Hey, buddy—don't be jumpy. Hear me out."
Cade still eyed him warily—but at that moment, a U.S. government broadcast he'd intercepted crackled in: a bald man with a red cape was heading for City No. 1, followed by companions who said they were going to rescue civilians there; authorities weren't sure of his intentions, so the public was advised to avoid contact.
Cade tightened his aim. "You're the guy going to City No. 1. What are you planning to do there?"
Knowing the lead from Transformers 5 was a decent man at heart, Saitama laid out his goal plainly.
"What? You're going to break the perimeter around City No. 1 and rescue all the civilians Megatron and his lackeys are surveilling? Oh my God—you're insane!"
Cade scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Don't you get it? Those robots are so strong humanity can't resist them."
"Buddy," Saitama said, "if you really believed that, you wouldn't have built a junkyard this close to City No. 1—and you wouldn't be sheltering this many Autobots."
"I took them in because they're my friends," Cade countered.
"And you can do more," Saitama replied.
"If you came to play negotiator, save it. I've been disappointed in this messed-up world for a long time."
Saitama sighed, a little, but the conviction in his eyes didn't waver. "If you've already lost faith in this world, then watch how I rebuild it. The early part is rough, sure—but later on, I hope you'll bring your Autobot friends and lend me a hand."
He turned to leave. "Those friends with me outside—please watch over them for now."
Whoosh, whoosh.
Saitama's figure vanished from Cade's sight in a blink.
Only then did Cade realize how foolish it had been to point a rifle at him. If he'd fired, Saitama could have snapped his neck in an instant.
"Damn it," Cade swore—uncertain whether he meant the U.S. government, the Decepticons, or the anti-Transformer task forces. None of them showed a shred of broad-minded compassion; all they cared about was power and control.
That was how things had come to this.
"If Optimus were here… would it be different?"
The thought crossed his mind—and somehow, he found himself linking the red-caped silhouette of Saitama's departing back with Optimus Prime.
"No. If he's really going to save those civilians in City No. 1, I've got to help him."
That was Cade: defeatist talk on the surface, a good man underneath.
Vrrm—
Cade fired up his car and shot out of the junkyard, drawing glances from the two robots who had just been fighting.
"Wasn't he just drinking alone? Why's he tearing off all of a sudden?"
"What, gonna street-race Bumblebee?"
The next moment, a yellow compact car blazed out of the yard as well.
"Hey, guys—tail Cade! He's going to help Saitama rescue the civilians stuck in City No. 1!"
"Oh, shit!" The two Autobots perked right up—especially the burly one in camo fatigues.
"Finally, some work!"
(End of Chapter)
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