In almost an instant, everyone present was stunned by what they were seeing.
When Roken had first clashed with Saitama, quite a few men in the crowd had thought he was being too rough with a beautiful woman—that he was "cruelly destroying a flower."
But the moment Roken revealed her true form as a metal being, a collective hiss of cold air swept through the onlookers.
What kind of monster was this?!
The half of her body that Saitama had punched away hit the ground, splattered, and instantly turned into a pool of silvery metallic liquid. It flowed like quicksilver toward the remaining half of her body.
The other half quickly absorbed the silver liquid, and in the blink of an eye, Roken's body fully regenerated again.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
The newly restored Roken seemed to have gained greater resistance. Saitama's punches no longer split her cleanly in half; instead, they hammered her entire body into something like malleable, deformed metal clay.
The crowd muttered, "Is this woman made of iron?"
In the U.S. White House Science Division, an expert watching the live feed shook his head. "No, that's not iron. It's a rare metal. I dare say, whoever discovers this kind of rare metal will immediately drive all of human science forward. They'd become the founding giant of a new era in materials science!"
Trump was speechless.
Saitama never failed to bring him one shock after another; the old man who nominally ruled America was well past the point of having any fresh words left.
At this point, all he could do was firmly believe that Saitama would defeat the enemy.
But the very next moment, Saitama's words nearly made Trump drop his jaw.
"President Trump," Saitama said, looking up, "I know you're watching me. Could I trouble you to have someone build a high-tech cage—something that can contain this ever-changing metal person?"
That one sentence made Trump feel unspeakably miserable.
Heaven help him—he was just the honorary president selected by an ancient American family. How was he supposed to know anything about building that kind of advanced device?
"Quick, quick! Get the people from the Science Division!" Trump barked. "Ask them what kind of machine we could build to contain something like that!"
Very soon, the spokesperson for the Science Division hurried to his side.
"Mr. President," the spokesperson reported, "based on the battle footage so far, we can only roughly infer what elements this metal person might be composed of. To determine the exact components, we'd need to collect samples from the scene."
The liquid metal woman currently fighting Saitama had long since hacked into the world's networks. Through those channels, she clearly heard every word.
Her face, already covered in fist-shaped dents, twisted into a mocking smile. "Hehe, Saitama, you're certainly very strong—but if you think you can rely on the technology of this era to trap me, you're dreaming."
"I am a mechanical lifeform from the twenty-third century," Roken said coldly. "There is no way the technology of this time can imprison me."
Right then, Saitama casually added, "You don't have to make it that complicated. Just use an extra-thick tempered glass shell, and surround it with a super electromagnetic field. That'll do."
For a moment, Roken was struck dumb.
What kind of person was this?!
Not only were his fists unimaginably hard, but his head was also full of knowledge. He even tossed out a method to restrain a future mechanical lifeform as casually as if he were chatting about the weather.
For the first time, Roken felt genuine fear.
If she couldn't break free from Saitama's punching range, she would be trapped here forever.
And that would mean her mission—to kill Connor—would never be completed.
For a mechanical lifeform from the future, mission failure had only one outcome: death.
Roken's eyes flickered with a strange light as her CPU frantically calculated every possible way to escape Saitama's grip.
But despair came quickly.
She could not defeat Saitama. If she couldn't even overpower him, what hope did she have of breaking free from his restraints?
A gigantic transparent dome of tempered glass descended from above. The woman as beautiful as a Victoria's Secret angel—Roken—was sealed inside it and could no longer escape.
On site, along with viewers from all over the world, everyone watched as the figure inside the glass dome repeatedly melted into liquid metal, then reformed into a human shape, again and again slamming against the glass to no avail.
Utterly useless.
In that moment, all of them were deeply shaken by this unbelievable power from the future.
At the same time, when their gazes turned back to Saitama, the shock in their eyes slowly shifted into reverence.
If Saitama didn't exist, how could they possibly have resisted this metal being from the future?
They couldn't.
Without Saitama, would they even have had the chance to witness a metal person from the future with their own eyes?
…Actually, that part might still have been possible.
After all, couldn't a time machine still show up without a hero?
As everyone voiced their own opinions and speculations about time travel and future tech, Saitama was already happily tallying up his system rewards.
The moment he defeated the metal woman Roken, the system granted him a boost in attributes.
He was now even stronger than before.
Moreover, because he had struck that classic "I am back" pose just now, the system had also gifted him ten [Trendsetter] titles.
On top of that, it had given him a lottery draw.
Saitama's draw result wasn't bad at all: another boost to his stats, plus a comic book about time travel—"Legends of Tomorrow."
"…"
Saitama glanced at the comic, then at the logo of the publisher—DC. He immediately handed the book over to Vivian, who was currently at a banquet, getting ready to bring him in to join the celebration.
"Eh? Where did you buy this comic?" Vivian asked in surprise. "There's no DC company in our world."
Only then did Saitama realize that in this Transformers world, there was only Marvel Studios—no DC Studios at all.
It was a rather fresh and amusing discovery.
But that wasn't the main point.
The main point was that Vivian gave him a bright, happy smile. "Congratulations, Saitama—my great hero. You've saved the world again!"
At that moment, the banquet hall's big screen was broadcasting a live feed from the White House.
Everyone saw the metal person trapped inside the transparent glass dome, on the verge of going mad. The TV host's voice rang out: "Come, let us celebrate our hero! Let us congratulate our hero Saitama for saving the world once again!"
Saitama could only give a wry smile. Probably only a Western country like America would be this enthusiastic about holding banquets for everything.
Just then, a figure that surprised Saitama appeared at the banquet.
It was actually the President's daughter—Ivanka.
Ivanka walked over to Saitama with a wine glass in hand. "Hero," she said, "would you be willing to accept this toast of respect from me?"
Saitama glanced over at Vivian and flashed a small smile. "You'll have to ask Vivian about that."
With that, he slipped away from between the two women and turned his attention to his next mission.
"Find the Governor."
Heaven help him.
He'd enjoyed his fight with the metal woman Roken a little too much and had let the Governor slip away.
Fortunately, to prevent humanity's networks from being completely destroyed, his system had maintained a link to the real-world internet. Through that connection, Saitama could easily track down the Governor's current location.
Right now, the Governor was roaring down a highway on a motorcycle of unknown origin.
His dark sunglasses, stylish hair, and the heavy, high-recoil gun in his hand all combined into one word: cool.
At the same time, his entire appearance sent a clear message to everyone who saw him:
I'm dangerous. Don't mess with me.
(End of Chapter)
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