The incident with the bio-mechanical Kaiju sent shockwaves through the Defense Force's high command. It was the final, terrifying proof they needed: the enemy was evolving at an unnatural rate, employing advanced tactics and bespoke anti-personnel weaponry.
Director General Shinomiya, a man not known for his subtlety, responded with a gesture of overwhelming force and calculated political maneuvering. He announced the "First Annual Japan Defense Force Joint Combat Tournament."
Ostensibly, it was a morale-boosting public event, a chance to showcase the Force's finest warriors and new technology. Cadets, officers, and even division captains would compete in a series of televised mock battles.
The true purpose, however, was threefold and top-secret.
First, it was a loyalty test. In the wake of the base siege and the schism of ideology Saitama's existence had caused, this was a way for Shinomiya to see who was truly aligned with the Defense Force's established order.
Second, it was a massive field test for the first, crude prototypes from Kenji Tanaka's "Project Chimera." They would secretly pit their new biomechanical weapons and suits against their own soldiers to gather live combat data.
And third, most importantly, it was bait.
In Kenji Tanaka's bunker, the plan was laid out on a holographic map.
"The tournament will be held at the 'Aria Zone,' our largest and most fortified training facility," Kenji explained to the shadowy figures of the government council. "It will be the single largest gathering of our military's elite in one place. An irresistible target for an intelligent, strategic enemy like Kaiju No. 9."
He pointed to a blinking red dot on the map. "But the true battlefield will be here, twelve levels below the stadium. Lab C-4. The morgue."
The morgue was where the Defense Force kept its most valuable and dangerous assets: the corpses of powerful Kaiju, including fragments of the Cataclysm-Kaiju Daigo and the recently deceased bio-mechanical assassin.
"Kaiju No. 9 is a scientist," Kenji stated. "It learns, it adapts. To accelerate its biomechanical evolution, it needs material. It needs our specimens. The tournament is the distraction. The morgue is the prize. We are inviting it into a trap."
It was a brilliant, dangerous gambit. And at the heart of the trap's trigger mechanism were two unsuspecting, and highly unpredictable, individuals.
"Captain Shinomiya will, of course, be the star of the tournament," Kenji said, swiping to a picture of Kikoru. "Her overwhelming power will be the main event. She will keep the public, and Kaiju No. 9's primary forces, occupied."
He then swiped to a picture of Kafka's cadet profile. "Vice-Captain Hoshina's squad, including Cadet Hibino, will be assigned to 'security' for the lower levels. Close to the bait."
The plan was clear: lure No. 9 in with the promise of powerful biological material, and use Kafka as the 'Kaiju-sensitive' bloodhound to detect its presence when it arrived.
"And what about Alpha?" Director General Shinomiya rumbled, his voice laced with the one variable he couldn't control. "His presence could ruin the entire operation."
Kenji smiled, a thin, tired expression. "That, sir, is the most beautiful, and most terrifying, part of the plan. We don't have to do anything about him. We just have to make sure he knows about the event."
He brought up another image. A brightly colored advertisement. "The tournament is being sponsored by the Mega-Mart corporation. The grand prize for the winning division is not only a trophy, but a lifetime supply of their prime, A5-grade marbled beef."
A stunned silence filled the room.
"You're baiting a god... with steak," a council member whispered, a note of horrified disbelief in his voice.
"Alpha is not motivated by global threats," Kenji replied coolly. "He is motivated by personal stakes and mundane desires. Kaiju No. 9 will see a military target. Anomaly-Alpha will see a contest where the grand prize is free meat for life. The sheer, overwhelming significance of the prize will guarantee his attendance. He won't be able to resist showing up."
The plan was now complete. They would use their public heroes as a distraction, their secret monster as bait, and their secret god as the ultimate, unpredictable, and hopefully final, insurance policy. It was the most complex, high-stakes, and utterly insane military operation in human history.
The news of the tournament spread through Tachikawa Base like wildfire. For most, it was a chance for glory, for promotion. For Kafka, it was a nightmare. He would be in the spotlight, under the watchful eyes of every commander in the force. One wrong move, one slip of control, and his secret would be blown wide open.
But the final, terrifying piece of the puzzle fell into place during a quiet evening on the rooftop of their apartment building. Saitama was hanging his laundry, his white cape flapping gently in the breeze. Genos was polishing his own head.
Saitama was watching an ad on his small, portable TV. His eyes, normally dull and listless, were wide with a fiery, primal intensity.
"A... lifetime supply...?" he whispered, his voice trembling with a level of awe and reverence he had never shown for any monster or hero.
Genos immediately cross-referenced the advertisement. "Correct, Master. A joint combat tournament. The top prize is, indeed, a lifetime supply of high-grade beef, with an estimated value of—"
"Genos," Saitama interrupted, his voice deathly serious. "We're entering that tournament."
"Of course, Master," Genos replied without hesitation. "I will register us immediately under the team name 'Caped Baldy and the Chrome Demon.' I will fabricate the necessary credentials. However, my primary motivation will be to document your glorious and effortless path to victory."
Saitama wasn't listening. He was staring at the horizon, a look of profound, sacred purpose on his face. He had finally found it. After all this time, in this strange, new world.
A real fight. A truly worthy goal.
The stage was now set. The heroes, the monsters, the schemers, and the gods were all converging on a single point. Humanity was preparing for a strategic war against an evolving evil. Kaiju No. 9 was preparing a surgical strike to steal the keys to its ultimate victory.
And Saitama, the King of Heroes, was preparing for the most serious battle of his life: the one that stood between him and free meat. His boredom, for the first time in a long time, had found a tangible, delicious cure. And the thought of anyone, human or monster, getting in the way of that, was a truly terrifying prospect. The king's boredom was about to be weaponized, and the world had no idea what was about to hit it.