"?!"
Peter had just snapped out of the shock of the vine's explosion, only to have his worldview shattered all over again by this earth-shaking "shake-the-filth-off" scene. His mouth hung open wide enough to stuff a whole chicken inside as he stared blankly at his bag of lettuce, pressed tight against his chest by the wind—completely intact.
"The monster… is afraid?" Wanda's senses sharply picked up the pure, primal terror coming from that core aggregation—like a low-level lifeform facing its natural predator!
"The target's energy field is undergoing structural fracture! Core stability is plummeting!" Even a tremor slipped into Vision's synthetic voice. He was witnessing the possibility of physical laws being ignored.
However, Saitama—who had just flung the filth off his left arm—did not stop moving. After shaking off his left hand, he looked at his right, which was equally smeared in disgusting slime… and still holding the corner of Peter's "Limited-Time Offer: Cabbage ¥1.99/lb" flyer. As he stared at the poster, one corner soaked in muck, the annoyance on his face instantly spiked to the absolute limit.
"I finally… managed to get this…" he muttered, head down, gazing at the vivid green cabbage on the flyer now defiled by that revolting blue slime. His voice was low, weighted with a suffocating, chest-tightening kind of… discontent.
His voice wasn't loud.
But against the backdrop of the core's screams and the shattering psychic shield, it carried with perfect clarity to every being that still had "hearing."
It didn't sound like a battle declaration at all. It sounded more like… the sigh of a man watching the last of his life-saving money get crushed into the mud under a car tire.
Buzz.
Pinching the stained edge of the flyer in his slime-smeared right hand, Saitama casually lifted it toward the core of that gigantic, ghostly blue membrane in the distance—where it twisted madly, howled, and churned up storms of energy—and, without a care, bent his finger and flicked.
His target wasn't the membrane.
It wasn't the core aggregation, either.
His target was only…
The largest droplet of ghostly blue vine slime staining the leaves on the cabbage picture—a single bead of foul-smelling, chaos-radiating muck on that cheap flyer.
All he was doing was flicking a nasty stain off a torn piece of paper.
Pop.
That unremarkable, fingertip-sized bead of blue slime was lightly snapped away by his utterly ordinary-looking finger.
The instant it left his fingertip, that droplet seemed to be granted the kinetic energy of a supernova's core!
Boom——!!!!!
A stream of orange-red light, condensed to the absolute limit—thin as a steel needle, yet blazing like a tiny newborn sun—erupted from Saitama's fingertip, wrapping that droplet within it. In an instant, it pierced through the warped air along its path, ripped apart the spiderweb-cracked psychic membrane, ignored the core's final, fiercest surge of chaotic energy, and struck, with perfect precision, the very center of that huge ghostly blue mass pulsing like a demon's heart.
It simply… tapped it.
There was no earth-shattering explosion, no shockwave powerful enough to level the park.
There was only, right where that point was touched—
Pop.
Like the sound of a huge, murky water balloon being pricked.
The massive ghostly blue membrane covering the entire bandstand area instantly broke apart into countless sparkling pale-blue motes of light. They scattered across the sky like a swarm of fireflies in the night, fading as they drifted, leaving nothing solid behind.
Beneath the bandstand, the core condensation point that had been brewing that terrifying psychic storm—that tightly condensed psychic aberration—suddenly manifested, right at its center, a pinhole-sized puncture wound. Its edges were impossibly smooth, the opening almost invisible, as if an absolute vacuum had drilled straight through it.
(End of Chapter)
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