The cold void of the Kuiper Belt had transformed into a boiling slaughterhouse.
Before Saitama's muttered complaint about "losing money" had even faded, the Wasteland Wolf had already issued a frenzied saturation attack. All the main ship's turrets swiveled frantically, crimson energy beams weaving into a deadly lattice aimed directly at the tiny bald head floating in space.
The Star Destroyer's main cannon recharged with ominous hums. The Destruction Light Spear hovered, ready to fire.
"Tsk." Saitama tilted his head, expressionless as ever, gazing at the crimson beams. He didn't dodge. His body sank slightly, muscles tensing under the yellow bodysuit like steel cables.
"A normal punch!" he declared.
Saitama clenched his right fist and stepped forward, then struck with the force of a planet-shattering blow.
"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Energy beams, capable of piercing asteroids, collided with his punch. The resulting explosion engulfed him in a blinding flash. Energy ripples silently propagated through the vacuum.
Steppenwolf's lava-like eyes gleamed with vicious anticipation—but the next moment, that gleam froze.
As the light faded, Saitama remained floating in place. His bodysuit was charred and tattered, his cloak reduced to rags, his glove torn, yet his body was unharmed.
Looking down at his ruined attire, he muttered through the communicator:
"Hey, my clothes are torn again! Does that make up for the compensation I just paid?"
Steppenwolf froze.
Simultaneously, golden light erupted above a turret of a demon-like ship. Sun Wukong's figure appeared, radiating energy.
"Get out of the way!" Wukong shouted, unleashing a golden ki blast that vaporized the ship and its escorts in a blinding flash.
The battlefield required no words; Saitama and Wukong moved with perfect, unspoken coordination.
"Saitama! The right flank is yours!" Wukong laughed, diving into the barrage of enemy fire aimed at Saitama.
"Kamehameha!"
A thick blue-white beam roared outward. The head-on clash with Steppenwolf's flagship tore open a safe passage through the crimson barrage. Remaining beams grazed Saitama, shredding his cloak further.
"Oh," Saitama muttered, observing over a thousand demonic transport ships forming a dark cloud. Without a fighting stance, he delivered a flat punch into the mass.
"Buzz!"
An invisible impact swept across the battlefield, swallowing entire fleets, leaving a vacuum thousands of kilometers wide in its wake.
At the end of the path, a Star Destroyer-class assault ship was stripped of armor, revealing molten wounds along its hull. Minute spatial cracks marked the path of destruction.
"Hahaha! Well done! Can't let you have all the fun!" Wukong cried, appearing above the crippled Star Destroyer, releasing dozens of shockwaves in rapid succession.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
The flagship erupted in a series of violent explosions. Hundreds of enemy vessels, unable to escape, were annihilated. A brief red star of cataclysm was born in the Kuiper Belt.
Steppenwolf watched helplessly from the command platform, witnessing his fleet's destruction. One-third of his forces gone to the two "monsters" before him. Despair, rage, absurdity—all burned in his bloodshot eyes.
"No—!!!" he roared, slamming his battle axe into the control panel. Sparks flew. "Concentrate all energy into the main cannon!"
But his orders halted abruptly. Wukong appeared in front of the last intact Star Destroyer, while Saitama casually floated to its side, poking the thick lava armor as if testing its hardness.
Two figures, one behind and one in front, sandwiched Steppenwolf's last hope.
Goku grinned at Saitama: leave this one to me.
Saitama, satisfied, pointed toward his wrist (though he wasn't wearing a watch) and then toward Earth. Words mouthed clearly:
"Special offer, hurry!"
Golden light and an invisible force erupted simultaneously.
Goku's final Kamehameha clashed with Saitama's casual punch. The third Star Destroyer-class assault ship disintegrated instantly. Light illuminated Steppenwolf's terrified, enraged face. Shockwaves ripped through the main ship's shields.
When the dust settled, only Steppenwolf's battered flagship remained, exposed to the silent, imposing gazes of Saitama and Wukong. Tens of thousands of Parademons? Gone. Three Star Destroyers? Obliterated.
A deathly silence enveloped the Kuiper Belt. Only the groaning of twisted metal lingered.
Saitama tugged at his ragged cloak. "A lot of clothes ruined… Supermarket sale must be over… Oh well. Let's go back."
He climbed onto Wukong's back.
"Remember to teleport me this time," he muttered.
"Coming right away!" Wukong laughed.
In the command center of Blue Star, alarms finally ceased. The red intrusion light vanished. "Threat Eliminated" blinked across the holographic map.
Tony leaned against the console, frowning at the soaring energy readings. Chen Tian shrugged, calm as ever.
"See? That solves it, doesn't it?"
Tony groaned. "Two monsters of extraordinary size just destroyed three Star Destroyers and ten thousand ships like they were snacks. And here I am, still trying to understand physics."
His gaze sharpened. "But this… was just the advance fleet. Darkseid won't give up Earth because of a few ships. This is only the beginning."
Chen Tian's smile hardened. He tapped the tablet, branding "Darkseid" into the database.
"Give up? Never. Since he's fixated on Earth… then let's march on his home turf."
Suddenly, Sun Wukong appeared in the command hall, carrying Saitama. Tony and Chen Tian stared, speechless.
Tony noticed Saitama's tattered clothes. "Wait! Why are you wearing… this?! Any request! Vibranium coating! Nano-repair! Flight systems!"
Saitama tilted his head. "Shouldn't heroes prepare their own battle suits? That's how it is in the manga."
Tony exploded in laughter. "Prepare it yourself?! Hahaha!!"
He slapped Saitama's shoulder. "Fine! Tell me what you want, and Tony Stark will make it!"
Then he turned to Wukong.
"I want a garment that weighs a million tons!"
Tony froze. "What?!"
"But soft. And breathable!" Wukong added seriously, completely oblivious to the absurdity.
Tony's brain short-circuited. "One million tons… soft… breathable? Impossible!!"
Chen Tian silently smirked, enjoying Stark's flustered reaction.
Tony squared up. "Two days! That's it! Tony Stark will make your one-million-ton soft, breathable combat suit!"
Wukong cheered. Saitama tugged at his tattered cape, muttering under his breath:
"By the way… I haven't even stated my request yet…"