The Infinite Shadow Domain trembled.
Not cracked, not broken—trembled.
And that was more terrifying than collapse.
Because Sung Jin-Woo had poured his soul into this place, his dominion without horizon, his kingdom of endless night. Here, he was more than human, more than monarch. He was absolute. Every shadow soldier was his will made flesh, every mountain of darkness his throne. Here, even gods would kneel.
Yet Saitama was still standing.
Cape fluttering, head gleaming under a sunless sky, fists loose at his sides. His face unchanged.
Boredom had long since vanished. What lingered now was something more dangerous: engagement.
The ground rippled.
Thousands of shadow soldiers rose again, respawned from Jin-Woo's abyssal wellspring. Kamish's charred bones reformed, black scales glowing with crimson magma. Igris rebuilt himself piece by piece, his helmet sliding back into place with a hiss of steel. Beru burst from the earth like an insect reborn, wings stretching wide, shrill screeches splitting the void.
And behind them, ranks upon ranks of shadow titans, hydras, phantoms, armies without count.
Jin-Woo raised his daggers, voice a hoarse whisper of command.
"Crush him."
The army roared and surged.
Saitama's knees bent slightly.
The world braced.
BOOM.
He leapt.
Not toward the army—but through them. A comet of flesh and fist that vaporized rows of soldiers in an instant. The ground detonated in a shockwave that flattened entire legions, their shadowy forms scattering like smoke.
Kamish lunged, jaws wide—
CRACK.
A single jab broke the dragon's skull, its colossal body folding before fading into mist.
Igris swung his blade in a burning arc—
BANG.
The knight's entire torso snapped in half, the armor ringing like shattered glass.
Beru dove from above, claws slashing at Saitama's head—
The hero caught one wrist casually.
"…Noisy bug."
He swung. Beru's body spun through the air like a ragdoll before exploding into fragments on impact.
The army screamed but could not stop him. The bald hero cut through infinity like it was air.
But Sung Jin-Woo did not falter.
His grin was wild, his chest heaving, his shadows spilling like black rivers. Every soldier destroyed was remade, surging back stronger, faster, more vicious.
This wasn't just summoning—it was evolution. His army was learning. Each exchange with Saitama burned their essence into something sharper.
The monarch's voice thundered through the void:
"You can't erase what is endless!"
His aura flared, his daggers spun like whirlwinds. He darted behind Saitama, slashing with perfect precision—artery, temple, spine. Each strike imbued with the authority of death itself.
Saitama tilted his head, the blades grazing harmlessly off his skin. He sighed.
"Man, you're persistent."
He threw a punch.
Not his serious punch. Not even close.
But the shockwave blasted Jin-Woo hundreds of meters back, his body skipping across the void like a stone across water. The monarch righted himself midair, cloak flaring, eyes blazing.
And he laughed.
"YES!"
The Infinite Shadow Domain could no longer contain them.
Each blow between them sent ripples tearing through the plane, cracks spiderwebbing across the black sky. Collapsed soldiers fell into these cracks, tumbling into realities unknown.
The spectators back in the real arena screamed as the barrier shattered completely. For an instant, they glimpsed what lay within: a world of shadows cracking apart under fists of light.
Genos's systems screeched alarms. "Sensei's power output… it's destabilizing the dimension!"
Bang's jaw tightened. "This battle is not for mortals to witness."
Still, none looked away.
Jin-Woo blurred in, shadows trailing like wings. His daggers carved arcs of annihilation, the very air screaming with each cut.
Saitama met him head-on, fists colliding with blades.
CLANG.
The sound was like planets colliding.
The shockwave split the ground in half, fissures stretching infinitely outward. Shadow soldiers fell into the abyss, their forms shredded.
Jin-Woo twisted, blades flashing in intricate patterns, raining death from a thousand angles. Each strike was fast enough to sever time, sharp enough to split dimensions.
Saitama blocked them with his forearms. Not deflecting, not countering—just standing there, letting the blows glance off him like raindrops.
Finally, he flicked a finger against one dagger.
The weapon shattered into black shards.
Jin-Woo staggered. His grin widened. He summoned another instantly.
"Perfect."
Their battle spilled outward.
One strike from Saitama cracked the edge of the Infinite Shadow Domain, light pouring in through fractures. One counterstrike from Jin-Woo dragged him deeper into the void, tendrils of night wrapping around the hero like chains.
They were no longer fighting in one place.
They were fighting everywhere.
A punch that missed tore through mountain ranges of the shadow world. A kick that glanced off shattered continents of darkness. Their footsteps bent time, each clash layering echoes across realities.
To the spectators, it was a nightmare ballet—two silhouettes flickering in and out of existence, reshaping worlds with casual violence.
For the first time, Sung Jin-Woo felt something strange.
Not weakness. Not despair.
But the edge of something he hadn't touched in years.
Fear.
Because no matter how infinite his army was, no matter how wide his dominion stretched…
This man did not break.
He should have. By all rights, he should have. Jin-Woo had crushed gods. He had shattered dimensions. His soldiers were endless, his power absolute.
And yet this bald man punched, and infinity bent.
He clenched his teeth. His shadows writhed. "I won't stop. Do you hear me? I will never stop!"
Saitama raised his fist slowly. For once, there was no sigh in his voice, no deadpan complaint. Only quiet acknowledgment.
"…Good."
He swung.
Not serious. Not playful. Something between.
The punch cracked the Infinite Shadow Domain itself, shattering the horizon into dust. The shadow army scattered like smoke. Jin-Woo's body was hurled back, crashing through crumbling layers of his own reality.
For an instant, silence.
The Infinite Shadow Domain shattered completely.
And both warriors fell—back into the real world.
The stadium was no longer recognizable. The barrier gone, the stands half-collapsed, the sky above twisted with clouds torn by shockwaves. The audience screamed and scrambled, some frozen in awe, others weeping in terror.
And in the center, Jin-Woo landed on one knee, shadows struggling to reform around him. His cloak was tattered, his breath ragged.
Across from him, Saitama dusted off his cape.
"…Kinda fun."
The crowd could not understand. To them, this was no fight. This was the unmaking of reality itself.
But for the two standing at the center, this was only the beginning.
The monarch who wielded infinity.
The hero who wielded absolution.
Their true battle had just begun.
To be continued…