"Nero, have you ever heard of the Hero Association?"
No one knew when Megumi had opened his eyes. Nobara held her breath, and Artoria turned her gaze away from the ramen to focus entirely on Satoru.
Satoru set aside his usual smile and leaned forward slightly, adopting a more serious tone.
"Outside Japan's main territory, there's a special island. In theory, it was once part of the country, but now… let's say it functions as an independent zone, with a high level of autonomy. However, that place is… strange."
"In our 'world,' curses are born from human negative emotions. Cursed energy comes from them, cursed spirits grow stronger because of it, and everything stays in an endless cycle."
Satoru spoke calmly. "But on that island, the rules change. Negative emotions, harmful influences, or any toxic stimulus… don't produce cursed spirits, but something entirely different."
The room fell silent.
"The negative energy of that island," he continued in a lower voice, "acts directly on matter—whether it's human or… something else."
Damian stayed attentive, waiting without interrupting.
"Intense despair, deep hatred, twisted obsession… even an extreme fetish can be the trigger. Once it happens, the person instantly transforms into something they call a 'monster.' This mutation has no pattern, no warning, and no way to prevent it."
He paused, his tone growing heavier. "And the most disturbing part is that it's not limited to humans. The ground, the mountains, the rivers, the animals… even a simple dry branch can, through the accumulation of impurities or some unknown stimulus, 'go mad' and mutate into a monstrous form with destructive power beyond all logic."
As he listened to Satoru's insane description, Damian pieced together each word in his mind. The description fit too perfectly with something he already knew from Marin. The "Hero Association"… the "monsters"… He already knew what universe they were talking about.
One Punch Man.
Satoru looked at him with a sharper gaze. "The weaker ones already surpass ordinary curses. And the strong ones… can wipe out an entire city in a matter of seconds. They're equivalent to, or even stronger than, special-grade cursed spirits."
He leaned back on the couch and clicked his tongue. "Of course, the same emotions that give birth to monsters can also strengthen people."
"That's how the Hero Association was born," he explained with a casual gesture. "They divide their members into ranks, like we do, although they have more levels. Most of them are just humans with abilities slightly above average."
Damian nodded slowly. "I see. Then why did you call me here?"
Satoru smiled and pulled something from his pocket: a black invitation with golden edges. He tossed it, and Damian caught it.
With a slight motion, he opened the envelope. Against the dark background, red letters like blood spread across it:
[The crisis of the end of the world is approaching]
[Special invitation to the heroes of the world of sorcery to face the coming disaster together]
Below, there was a chain of contacts and a seal engraved with the emblem of the Hero Association.
Damian lifted his gaze toward Satoru, who had already returned to his relaxed pose, hands interlaced behind his head.
"After our fight, I understood a lot of things." Satoru smiled with his usual carefree attitude.
"Before, I would've gone alone without a second thought. But now…" he shrugged, "I heard that some of those monsters aren't exactly easier to handle than Ryomen Sukuna."
Damian tossed the invitation onto the table. "You want me to go with you?"
"Smart." Satoru grinned from ear to ear. "With you there, I feel much more at ease."
Artoria suddenly spoke. "Master, do you need me to accompany you?"
Damian quickly refused. "Your physical body still isn't completely stabilized. Stay home and make sure everything stays in order."
Then he turned to Satoru. "When do we leave?"
"This afternoon." Satoru stood up. "That island is a complicated place. Even though it's independent, it rarely allows outsiders in. But to request our help, this Association sent a private jet just for us."
He lowered his voice, adding a hint of mystery. "And from what I've found out, there are some rather interesting heroes in that Association."
He raised one finger. "Especially their leader… Blast. They say he's dozens of times stronger than Sukuna."
A fleeting glimmer crossed Damian's eyes. But it wasn't because of Blast's name—it was another man who came to mind, one with an emotionless expression and an empty stare.
Saitama.
The bald man who could defeat anyone with a single punch.
Satoru misunderstood his reaction and smiled proudly, convinced he had finally sparked his interest.
'At last,' he thought, 'I managed to get the attention of the guy who always says "boring" or "entertain me."'
"I'll be there on time." Damian stood up, and Yamato appeared in his hand out of nowhere.
With a simple motion, he tore through the air, and a rift opened inside the office.
Satoru clapped his hands, thrilled. "Excellent!"
Without looking back, Damian stepped through the portal, and light enveloped his figure until he completely disappeared.
The office fell silent, except for Satoru's exaggerated laughter echoing off the walls.
"You guys saw that, right?" he exclaimed, turning toward his students. "He accepted of his own free will!"
Megumi looked at him seriously. "Sensei, that thing you said about Blast…"
"Oh, that." Satoru waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, he's strong, but…" his smile widened with confidence, "I'm stronger."
…
At the same time, on the other side of the portal, Damian stood beneath the cherry tree in his garden as the breeze gently swayed the branches.
"Master?" Artoria peeked her head out from the hallway.
"What is it?" Damian turned toward her.
Artoria frowned. "Is that place really as dangerous as they say?"
"For others, maybe." A calm smile appeared on Damian's face. "But for me…" He lifted his gaze toward the distance, and in his eyes, a spark of interest shone brighter than ever before. "I might find someone interesting."
"..."
Artoria stood still. The wind brushed the golden strands from her forehead, and in her eyes, she saw an expression on Damian's face she had never seen before.
It wasn't the arrogance of the man who had destroyed Ea in Fuyuki, nor the coldness of the one who had disintegrated a spiritual line.
In his pupils burned something entirely different: genuine excitement.
'Master… showing that expression?'
The sheath within her body vibrated softly.
"Saber."
Damian's voice broke the silence. "Where's the outfit Marin had made for me?"
Artoria reacted instantly. She turned halfway and led him down the hallway. "This way, Master. Miss Marin cleared the last wardrobe to store it there."
Their footsteps echoed across the floor, though inside her lingered a faint unease. A place capable of awakening such interest in her Master… what kind of power or mystery could it be hiding?
…
At two in the afternoon, in the training field of Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, a futuristic-looking aircraft landed with a thunderous roar.
The grass flattened beneath its weight, and the air filled with the rumble of its engines.
With a metallic hiss, the rear hatch opened, and several burly men in black suits descended in perfect sync, forming two lines on either side.
Finally, a man with a single eye, black hair, and an impeccable suit appeared, his bearing as rigid as his expression.
It was Sekingar, representative of the Hero Association.
A few meters away, Satoru Gojo stood waiting, hands clasped behind his head, maintaining his usual relaxed posture.
Behind him stood Yūta Okkotsu, Maki Zen'in, Yūji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, and Atsuya Kusakabe—the small elite group sent by the world of jujutsu.
Sekingar walked straight toward Satoru and gave a slight bow. "Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Gojo."
Satoru waved his hand dismissively. "Don't mention it."
Sekingar stepped aside and gestured invitingly. "Then, shall we depart immediately?"
Gojo looked up at the sky and twisted his lips. "Let's wait a little longer."
?
A spark of doubt crossed Sekingar's single eye, but he said nothing.
The wind stirred up by the aircraft began to subside. The dust and fragments of grass floating in the air settled slowly, and in the silence that followed… a figure appeared at the edge of the field.
No one noticed when he had arrived.
Walking forward with a calm stride, Damian moved as if beneath his feet there wasn't a field of grass, but a red carpet unfurling before him.
He wore a long black coat reaching down to his calves, unmoved even by the wind from the rotors. Only the lower edge swayed lightly, creating an elegant ripple through the air.
The high collar of the coat framed his jawline perfectly, giving him a commanding presence. Beneath it, a dark navy tactical vest fit snugly around his torso, outlining a firm, defined build.
The black, fitted pants were tucked into tall leather boots that gleamed under the sunlight.
He walked forward without looking to either side. As he passed by Satoru, the latter waved his arm enthusiastically. "Nero-kun! Over here, over here!"
But Damian didn't even turn his head. His steps remained steady and calm, brushing past Satoru's shoulder as he walked by.
He ascended the aircraft's ramp without stopping. The motion of his coat as he climbed traced an elegant arc, and his silhouette disappeared into the dim interior of the cabin, leaving behind a tense silence filled with anticipation.
"..."
The pupil of Sekingar's single eye contracted.
The sunlight fell on the coat of the man who had just passed, but it was as if the warmth vanished around him, absorbed by a force that left only a piercing chill in the air.
He didn't even manage to get a good look at his face—only the profile that passed beside him, calm yet inhuman.
A primal sense of danger surged within him, an alarm far stronger than any he had ever felt before, even when facing a Dragon-level monster.
'That man… is incredibly strong.' Just by crossing paths with him, the air had become harder to breathe.
Satoru's arm, which had been waving exaggeratedly, froze halfway, but his grin widened in satisfaction.
"Hahaha, still as unique as ever! Come on, let's go!" he shouted without the slightest hint of discomfort. He gestured for his students and Kusakabe to follow him, then walked up the aircraft's ramp.
Yūta and the others followed one after another.
"Sigh…"
Sekingar let out a long breath, trying to ease the pressure in his chest before motioning for Kusakabe to board first.
Then he followed, disappearing into the vessel.
Inside, Damian was already seated by the window, one leg crossed over the other, an elbow resting on the armrest, his fingers supporting his chin.
He silently watched as the training field of the Jujutsu College grew smaller in the distance.
Satoru took a seat across from him, leaning forward with a smile so wide it seemed impossible to contain. Even beneath his blindfold, the brightness of his eyes could be felt.
"What do you think? You can feel it, right? Out there, there's definitely someone capable of motivating you."
"..."
Damian didn't respond.
Outside, the landscape shrank rapidly as the aircraft ascended into the sky.
________
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