Right then, Saitama stopped dodging. He looked at the charging green shadow and let out a sigh.
"Seriously… looks like talking it out won't work."
He raised his right hand then casually pressed forward.
That press was light, like he wasn't using any strength at all. But that gentle press landed perfectly on Hulk's shoulder as he came barreling in.
The next second, something shocking happened.
Hulk's massive body stopped dead, as if he'd slammed into an invisible wall that was absolutely immovable. All his momentum vanished in an instant, wiped out completely. His forward charge was forcibly cut off. The enormous inertia made the ground beneath his feet crack inch by inch—yet Hulk himself was pinned in place, unable to move at all, held there by Saitama's seemingly ordinary palm!
"Roar?!" Hulk let out a stunned bellow. He struggled like crazy, every muscle swelling to its limit as he tried to break free from that hand's suppression. But the hand on his shoulder felt like it weighed as much as a mountain—and at the same time, like it had frozen the space around it. No matter how he roared, how he forced his strength out, he couldn't make that hand shake even a tiny bit.
Saitama held his palm steady on Hulk's shoulder, tilting his head slightly to look up into those blood-red eyes full of savagery and confusion.
"Calm down," he said again. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a strange kind of penetrating force.
Hulk struggled wildly, but the power coming from his shoulder was like an eternal shackle. He felt like he was fighting the gravity of the entire planet. That absolute gap in strength went beyond anything he could even understand. The anger still burned, but under that incomprehensible, absolute suppression, something deeper began to grow—an instinctive helplessness and confusion.
The struggling gradually weakened. The roars dropped from frenzied to low, until all that remained was heavy, ragged breathing. The blood-red in Hulk's eyes slowly faded. The savage frenzy was replaced by a blank, dazed confusion. His huge green body visibly began to shrink, the swollen muscles deflating like air leaking out.
A few seconds later, the green giant was gone.
In his place was Bruce Banner again.
He collapsed onto the ground, still wearing those absurdly stretchy shorts, face pale, drenched in sweat, his eyes filled with exhaustion and lingering fear.
Saitama withdrew his hand at just the right time, as if he'd only done something trivial.
Banner panted hard and looked up at the bald man in front of him. He remembered the last fragments before he lost himself—the punch that had casually pierced the rock monster, and that press he couldn't resist no matter what. He reflexively lifted his hands and stared at them then looked again at Saitama's equally ordinary hand.
The cognitive shock hit him so hard he couldn't speak at first. After a long moment, he finally managed to force out the words, voice hoarse and full of disbelief:
"Y-you… who are you? You… you're… even stronger than me… stronger than Hulk?"
Saitama rubbed his bald head, thought about it, and answered, "I'm Saitama. As for whether I'm good at fighting…" He paused, like he was seriously considering the question, then gave an answer that left Banner not knowing how to respond.
"Probably. After all… I'm just a hero for fun."
(End of Chapter)
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