Once, Peter had just used his webbing to stick to a tentacle monster that was trying to crawl up an apartment building, yanking it forcibly off the wall. Suddenly, an even thicker giant tentacle—nearly two meters in diameter—swept in from the side with shocking speed!
Peter noticed it in time and fired webbing to dodge, but the violent wind the tentacle kicked up still clipped him. His webs were torn apart. He yelped—like a baseball smashed by a bat—and was hurled straight toward the glass curtain wall of a nearby building.
Just before Peter was about to slam into the glass, a red figure appeared in his flight path as if by teleportation.
It was Saitama.
He'd just casually punched another monster into minced meat, and the corner of his eye caught Peter getting launched.
He didn't jump particularly high, but it was perfectly timed—placing him right between Peter and that giant tentacle monster. He didn't even spare the hulking thing a second glance. Facing the incoming tentacle—several times thicker than his entire body—Saitama casually threw a straight punch.
His fist met the slimy surface covered in suction cups.
There was no struggle. No thunderous impact.
Only an extremely brief, eerie pause—then that unbelievably tough tentacle, strong enough to sweep through reinforced concrete and steel, began collapsing from the point of contact. Cells, tissue, and bone (if it even had any) endured an incomprehensible force in less than a trillionth of a second. Its internal structure completely failed.
The massive tentacle was snapped clean in half by a single punch.
The front half fell like a powerless soft whip, slamming onto the ground and still writhing wildly. From the torn cross-section, a large amount of dark-blue, reeking blood sprayed out.
The giant tentacle monster let out a pained screech, its remaining tentacles flailing like mad.
Saitama landed lightly. Without even looking at the severed tentacle or the howling monster, he simply said to Peter—who had just stabilized himself and clung to the wall—"Be careful."
Then he turned and walked toward the other monsters still wreaking havoc.
Under the absolute sweep of Saitama's brute force—and with the Avengers' coordination—the stubborn tentacle monsters in the streets were cleared out quickly. The roads were a disaster, but the main threat seemed to have been dealt with.
"These monsters don't look like something natural," Strange said, floating in midair as he traced complex spell formations with his hands, sensing the direction of the remaining energy flow. His brows knitted tightly. "There's a source continuously releasing dark energy… like it's… summoning more!"
The glow of his magic pointed the way, finally indicating the entrance to a large, abandoned subway station tunnel that sank deep underground. The dark energy leaking from there was the most concentrated of all.
No one hesitated. They went straight into the tunnel. The deeper they went, the colder and more damp the air became—thick with the smell of rust, sewage, and something hard to describe, like ozone mixed with rot. New black runes carved into the tunnel walls began to appear, giving off a faint purplish-black glow.
At last, inside a broad cavern that used to be a subway dispatch hub, they found their target.
A gaunt mage in a tattered black cloak stood with his back to them, positioned at the center of a complex magic circle drawn in blood and glowing minerals. He held a staff high overhead—its top embedded with a skull. The skull's eye sockets burned with eerie green flames, and the mage continuously chanted a blasphemous, rapid-fire incantation.
As he chanted, the space above the magic circle warped again and again. One after another, new wet, dripping tentacle monsters struggled out of a rift in the void, crawling into the world.
(End of Chapter)
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