McCoy was still in the conference room, passionately pitching the bright financial future awaiting them on the neighboring island to this group of capitalists blinded by greed.
His hands waved wildly in the air, like he'd already scooped up all that island's riches into his pockets.
Just then, his assistant burst in looking flustered and whispered something urgently in his ear.
After hearing it, a flicker of annoyance crossed McCoy's face, but he quickly sneered. "Hmph, those cowards Sitch and Zegin—always bailing out at the critical moment, pulling most of their staff. How pathetic!"
He followed up with, "What about those S-Class heroes? What's the status on them?"
The assistant hurriedly checked his tablet and replied quickly, "So far, the S-Class heroes who've responded are Superalloy Darkshine, Tanktop Master, Pig God, and Metal Knight. The others—like Tornado, Atomic Samurai—they either outright refused or didn't even pick up their communicators."
McCoy's face darkened instantly. He slammed his fist on the table and growled, "These guys, dropping the ball when it matters most! Hmph, once we deal with Nero, I'll make sure they regret it!"
After saying that, McCoy's gaze turned deep and shadowy. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, a calculating glint in his eyes.
Then, he leaned in and whispered a few words to his assistant, his voice so low it was like he was afraid anyone else might overhear the secret.
The assistant, already tense, went wide-eyed in shock after hearing it. He instinctively lowered his voice even more. "Sir, those cyborgs don't distinguish between friend or foe! Things are gonna get really chaotic."
McCoy smirked, pulling off a dismissive grin. "Chaotic? That's even better. I bet Boros would love for NEO to get a little stronger too."
With that, he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, a smug, confident look on his face—like he could already picture Gaio getting pummeled by NEO, and the Hero Association marching triumphantly over his "corpse" to endless glory on the island.
Seeing McCoy's expression twist into something almost manic, the assistant felt a wave of worry but could only nod helplessly before hurrying out of the room.
As soon as he was out the door, he whipped out his communicator and started frantically contacting NEO's leader, Boros. His fingers flew across the screen, like he was racing against the impending crisis.
Meanwhile, the electronic clock on the wall ticked steadily onward, each second of the countdown making the atmosphere heavier.
In Bang's dojo, the place was so quiet you could hear the faint whisper of the wind.
Bang sat cross-legged on his cushion, calmly sipping his hot tea, his movements steady and unhurried. Genos, Saitama, KING, and the others were there too.
Genos's brows were furrowed in a deep "V," his face full of confusion. As an S-Class hero, he'd gotten McCoy's summons, but he'd shot it down without a second thought.
Right now, he couldn't hold back. "I just don't get it. Gaio helped the Hero Association wipe out the Monster Association completely clean, and now they're suddenly treating him like a monster?"
His voice carried a mix of frustration and genuine bafflement.
Bang set down his teacup and shook his head with a helpless sigh, uttering just two words: "Greed."
Saitama scratched his shiny bald head, let out a yawn, and mumbled, "What a hassle. I'd rather just take a good nap." To him, all this messy drama was nowhere near as appealing as a solid snooze.
In a skyscraper in City B, Boros stood by the floor-to-ceiling window with his gear-shaped pupils, arms crossed and eyes gleaming with anticipation. He couldn't wait to show the world NEO's dominance.
"Vebica, round up everyone. Today, we're gonna put on a show of NEO's power for the whole world to see."
Vebica grinned cheekily and replied, "You got it, Boros~"
Her cute face lit up with excitement as her fingers danced across her communicator, each tap weaving a net that would soon envelop City A.
Soon, NEO's heroes got the message. Streaks of light shot across the sky, vehicles sped along the ground, and heroes from all directions raced toward City A.
At the same time, in the hot spring inn, Gaio was all dressed up and casually sitting on the veranda, a steaming cup of tea beside him. The aroma wafted gently, like none of the outside chaos had anything to do with him.
Gojo Satoru lounged nearby with his usual goofy grin, but his eyes kept flicking to the old clock hanging in the corridor, betraying his underlying concern.
"Nero-kun, time's almost up. Bet those Hero Association folks are losing their minds right about now, haha."
Gojo flashed a wide, schadenfreude-filled smile, but in the next second, his expression turned serious as he looked at Gaio with a hint of gravity.
"Nero-kun, sure, those Hero Association clowns deserve a lesson, but when you step in later, go easy, okay?"
He rubbed his chin, his words laced with worry. "With your power, one wrong move and you could flip the whole world upside down. If you don't hold back and accidentally wreck everything, that'll be a real headache."
Gojo spread his hands with a wry smile, his mind already flashing to the apocalyptic scene of Gaio going all out—mountains crumbling, skies shattering.
After all, he'd witnessed Gaio's world-ending strength firsthand and knew full well that when this guy got serious, the destruction would be beyond imagination.
Gaio didn't respond, just kept gazing at the drizzly sky.
The fine rain fell like silver threads, draping a hazy veil over everything, as if mourning the storm about to hit. Gaio's eyes were deep, like he was peering through the downpour to see it all.
Gojo fell silent, toning down his smile a bit.
But the quiet didn't last long. A few seconds later, his grin was back, and he winked playfully at Gaio.
Gaio got the hint—no need to turn around; he could sense Fubuki approaching.
Fubuki hurried over, her face twisted in conflict.
She stepped onto the veranda, gave a slight nod to Gojo's enthusiastic wave, then went straight to Gaio and knelt down properly.
Gaio looked at her, saying nothing first, his gaze calm as still water.
After hesitating, Fubuki mustered her courage and asked softly, "Nero, what are you planning to do?" Her voice was gentle but cut through the quiet corridor clearly.
Gaio raised an eyebrow and countered, "What, you here to talk me out of it?"
There was a teasing lilt to his tone, like he wasn't sweating the incoming battle at all.
Fubuki shook her head quickly and said earnestly, "No, I just hope you don't hurt any innocents."
With that, she lifted her head, meeting Gaio's eyes with firm resolve, full of worry and hope.
Gaio said nothing more, just glanced at the clock nearby.
The old clock gave off an antique vibe, its hands ticking steadily, each movement urging fate's wheel forward.
"Time's up." Gaio's voice was low, like it echoed from the depths of the underworld.
Gojo and Fubuki both looked at the clock—the hands had just aligned at that crucial moment.
When they turned back, Gaio was gone, leaving only an empty seat and the lingering tea scent, whispering of what had just happened.
In City A, at Hero Association headquarters, the conference room's heated atmosphere—stirred up by McCoy's speech—froze solid as the electronic clock's countdown hit zero.
The people who'd been chattering away moments ago now stood like they'd been petrified, all eyes locked on the clock.
It reset and started counting up: "0:01, 0:02, 0:03..."
Each tick felt like a pebble dropping into their hearts.
At first, they exchanged uneasy glances. Then, someone let out a relieved sigh, and the tension broke—like a dam bursting. Everyone in the room relaxed.
"Tch, I told you that Nero guy's all talk," snorted a potbellied capitalist, his chins jiggling with the motion.
"Yeah, him thinking he can take on the Hero Association? Total overreach," chimed in another guy in a sharp suit, disdain in his eyes as he swirled his wine glass smugly.
The room erupted in chatter again, full of mockery.
Some trashed the Jujutsu world, trying to drag it through the mud; others targeted Gaio, laughing at his "arrogance." They howled with laughter, spittle flying, as if the island's treasures were already theirs.
But they didn't notice the temperature in the conference room—equipped with top-notch climate control—starting to rise subtly.
It began as a faint warmth, but soon it grew unmistakable.
Sweat beaded on their foreheads, trickling down cheeks and soaking expensive collars and shirts.
Lost in their self-congratulations, they ignored it, still basking in their imaginary victory.
In the midst of the noise, McCoy was the first to sense something off.
The room's heat shot up like a runaway rocket. His collar felt suffocating; he yanked off his tie and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it onto a chair.
He scanned the room—everyone else was still oblivious, wrapped up in their boasting.
His eyes fixed on the AC vent, which should have been pumping out cool air, but now the place felt like a sauna.
A flicker of unease crossed his face. Without hesitation, he hit the intercom on the table and barked into the mic, "What the hell's going on?"
There was a brief silence on the other end, just static crackling.
After a moment, the assistant's shaky, stammering voice came through: "The... the rain stopped..."
"The rain stopped? What kind of answer is that?" McCoy muttered, puzzled. Before he could figure it out, a sudden barrage of pings and clangs exploded nearby.
The sounds came from the building's exterior walls—Metal Knight's pride and joy, made of ultra-durable alloy—like someone was hurling rocks at it nonstop, jarring everyone's nerves.
The room went dead silent, the lively debate cutting off abruptly.
Everyone froze, their smug faces turning to stares at McCoy, like he had all the answers.
McCoy's expression soured, sweat beading on his forehead—whether from heat or panic, who could tell.
No time to waste. He quickly worked the conference table's controls, projecting the building's exterior via hologram.
The once-drizzly sky was now clear, sunlight glaring.
But the peaceful view was shattered by countless metal fragments raining down from above, glinting coldly in the sun like a metallic storm.
McCoy adjusted the angle, panning upward.
When the image locked on the sky, everyone gasped.
There floated Gaio in his black trench coat, standing tall in midair, the blinding sun almost like his spotlight.
In his hand wasn't that terrifying Yamato blade from before, but an ancient-looking katana.
Spatial rifts swirled around him like the gaping maws of beasts.
From those rifts poured endless metal shards—on closer look, they were the wreckage of Metal Knight's prized robots.
Gaio loomed like a demon god, gazing down coldly at the building below.
To him, it looked like a black tomb trapping those greed-blinded fools.
"You choosing this place as your graveyard? Good pick." His voice echoed like it came from the underworld, booming through the hologram into the room.
With that, Gaio slowly raised his hand to the hilt of the ancient katana and began to draw it.
In an instant, scorching crimson flames erupted from the sheath, like a slumbering fire demon awakening, spiking the surrounding temperature even higher.
The people in the room felt a wave of heat slam into them, their faces burning.
"All things in creation turn to ash, flow like the blade—Ryujin Jakka."
"City Walls of Flame."
As Gaio spoke, flames burst from his Ryujin Jakka, crashing toward the ground.
In a blink, a massive sea of fire engulfed the Hero Building.
The blaze's heat made the all-metal structure glow red and soften.
Gaio found it intriguing—City Walls of Flame hit 6000 degrees, yet it couldn't melt the building? Metal Knight's tech was impressive, alright.
Inside, McCoy and the others writhed in agony from the sudden inferno, like they were trapped in a giant oven.
McCoy roared in fury, ordering the reinforcements—Superalloy Darkshine, Tanktop Master, Pig God—to attack, while signaling the ambushing NEO forces in the distance to strike.
Superalloy Darkshine burst out first, his body gleaming with metallic sheen, trying to tank the flames head-on.
Tanktop Master and Pig God followed close behind, forming a triangle formation as they charged at Gaio.
At the same time, NEO's heroes swarmed from all sides—figures streaking through the sky and racing across the ground, all converging on Gaio.
Facing the tidal wave of so-called "heroes," Gaio remained unfazed, his expression serene.
He slowly raised Ryujin Jakka to his face and murmured:
"Bankai: Zanpakuto - East - Rising Sun Blade."