(Hero Association HQ – Underground Executive Briefing Room)
The walls of the room were lined with monitors, several displaying news footage, satellite feeds, and live tactical maps of cities across the country. In the center sat a long obsidian conference table, with a half-dozen high-ranking executives seated in silence—each one holding a tablet or a dossier.
The air was tense. It could be felt by those present.
Sekingar, ever rigid in posture, adjusted his tie as he reviewed the combat report projected in front of him. His eyes narrowed.
"Two Dragon-level threats in less than forty-eight hours. Neutralized by the same individual. One of them confirmed to be Vaccine Man… and now this giant—Marugori." He leaned back. "These aren't rumors. We have visual evidence."
"More like two city-flattening catastrophes," muttered Exma, the gruff female strategist known for advocating disaster response over direct confrontation. "Yet we didn't mobilize a single S-Class hero in time for either event. That doesn't sit well with me."
"Because we didn't have time," said Busho, the stern-headed leader of field logistics. "By the time our response teams were halfway through deployment, both threats were gone. Disintegrated. I reviewed the forensics reports—there wasn't even enough left of Marugori to fill a damn freezer bag."
The executives exchanged grim looks.
Then the man who called the meeting finally spoke. Jinzuren, standing at the end of the table, placed his gloved hand on the table and looked around the room.
"And yet, none of you are asking the real question."
He tapped the tablet in his other hand. A screen on the wall lit up, showing the bald man in a yellow suit walking away from a smoking crater.
"Who is Saitama… and how the hell did he go unnoticed for this long?"
"An unregistered civilian," said Sitch, arms crossed as he stared at the paused footage. "No record of association testing. No hero name in our database. Not even flagged by local watch teams. It's as if he materialized out of nowhere."
One of the lesser-known executives, a lanky man in glasses named Toribo, adjusted his seat and muttered, "With that appearance… I assumed he was a cosplayer at first. Or maybe a delusional civilian taking credit for the work of someone stronger."
"That was my assumption too," Jinzuren admitted. "Until I saw the raw footage from our new surveillance drones. They've only recently been deployed across A, B, C, and D-Cities."
He tapped again. The footage played.
They watched in silence as the video showed Saitama casually talking to Vaccine Man… then punching him once and reducing him to a mist of purple gore.
The clip cut to Marugori. Saitama leapt from a rooftop, smashed into the giant's chest with a single blow, and redirected the collapsing corpse so that it didn't fall on any populated areas.
Several jaws visibly tightened.
Toribo blinked. "That level of strength… is absurd."
"Unquantifiable," said Sekingar coldly. "I had the recordings reviewed by the combat data analysis unit. The speed, the weight behind the strike, the structural collapse of the body—it's not just strength. It's total kinetic dominance. Frankly, it shouldn't be possible without serious internal body reinforcement… and Saitama shows none. No armor. No augments. Just… him."
"What about psychic suppression or illusion tech?" asked Busho. "Could this be a high-tier esper? Maybe someone using cloaking fields to project their image while an S-Class handles the threat remotely?"
Jinzuren shook his head.
"I was there. I shook his hand. He wasn't cloaked, projected, or illusioned. He's flesh and blood. And I thought just like you did—that he was lying. That someone else killed Vaccine Man. Until the drone confirmed it. Until I saw him reduce a 30-story monster to mulch without breaking a sweat."
"And the psychological profile?" Sitch asked. "Did he exhibit signs of aggression? Bragging? Was he trying to extort rewards or fame?"
"None."
Jinzuren brought up a second clip. Audio played: "No big deal," Saitama said to the camera drones before walking off in the opposite direction, alone.
"He didn't even ask for compensation. I offered him a fast-track into the Association. He said he'd think about it."
That silenced the room.
Exma exhaled. "A Dragon-level exterminator with no thirst for glory. This doesn't feel real. It's like someone pulled him out of a comic book."
"He's a statistical anomaly," said Sekingar. "And potentially a security risk. If someone like him decided to turn against the Association, we have no countermeasure."
Jinzuren nodded grimly. "Which is why we need to act. Officially."
He turned to Sitch.
"I propose we draft a temporary registration for Saitama under Emergency Article 9. He may not have taken the entrance exam, but his field record speaks for itself. We classify him as provisional, pending evaluation."
Sitch considered it, then gave a slow nod.
"Very well. I'll authorize the motion. But we need to monitor him carefully. A power like this—unrestrained, unaffiliated—could reshape the balance of our entire hero structure."
"Or collapse it," muttered Busho.
Jinzuren shut off the screen.
"Then we'd best ensure he stays on our side."
Silence lingered in the conference room after Sitch approved the provisional classification. Fingers tapped against tablets. Eyes scanned unread data. But tension still hovered, thick and unresolved.
"Now comes the difficult part," said Sekingar, folding his hands over the polished table. "If we're onboarding this man, we need to assign him a class. And a rank."
"S-Class."
The voice came from Jinzuren, firm and immediate.
Several brows raised. A few heads shook.
Exma leaned forward, eyebrows furrowed. "We don't even assign S-Class lightly, let alone to someone who hasn't passed any official testing or evaluation."
"Agreed," said Busho, arms crossed. "The psychological, moral, and physical screenings are mandatory. Exceptions undermine the system's credibility."
"With respect," Jinzuren countered, "if you assign this man anywhere below S-Class, the system's credibility is already broken. He defeated two Dragon-level threats before the Association even showed up. He did it solo, without damage to his own body, and minimized collateral in the process."
Sitch exhaled through his nose. "Public perception is a factor. The moment his footage is leaked to the media—and believe me, it will be—every citizen will wonder why someone who can casually flatten a skyscraper-sized giant isn't ranked higher than Sweet Mask."
A short, awkward silence followed at the mention of the idol-hero, whose public influence made rank placement politically delicate.
Toribo, the analyst, cleared his throat. "We could theoretically start him in A-Class, Rank 1. That would place him just below S-Class, and allow room to 'promote' him with further public tests."
"No." Sitch shook his head. "That would raise too many eyebrows once people compare his battle records to other A-Class heroes. Hell, even most S-Class haven't handled two Dragon-levels back to back. If we downplay this, we look like we're hiding something."
Sekingar looked unconvinced. "Then what precedent do we cite for his promotion? King was given S-Class after his battle record—though that case was… unique."
Jinzuren raised an eyebrow. "You mean fraudulent."
"...Irregular."
"Still," said Exma, resting her knuckles on the table, "placing someone so unknown directly into S-Class is dangerous. It'll ruffle feathers. Atomic Samurai, Tatsumaki, even Flashy Flash—they're not going to accept some unknown bald man suddenly standing beside them on the board."
"They don't have to accept him," Sitch said coldly. "They just need to acknowledge what he's done."
That seemed to quiet the room again.
"He's right," Jinzuren said at last. "This isn't about protocol. It's about protecting the public. If another threat shows up tomorrow and we don't have Saitama available because he's mopping floors in C-Class Rank 388, then it's on us."
Reluctant nods began to follow. Even Busho looked thoughtful.
Finally, Sitch spoke decisively:
"Motion to assign Saitama to provisional S-Class. Rank will remain unnumbered until the board can vote on placement. All in favor?"
One by one, hands went up. Even the skeptics.
"Motion passed."
Jinzuren exhaled in quiet relief. The first step was done.
"I'll prepare the onboarding documents," Sekingar said, already typing. "We can send the contract by encrypted mail. It'll be waiting in his inbox by morning."
That's when everyone looked at each other.
"…Does anyone know his email address?" asked Exma.
Silence.
Toribo tapped on his screen, brow furrowed. "No registered email. No HeroNet ID. No address either."
"We didn't get that during field contact?"
Busho asked.
Jinzuren looked annoyed. "He introduced himself as 'Saitama'. No last name. He didn't mention an address, and I didn't push—at the time, I didn't think we'd be drafting legal documentation two days later."
Sekingar pinched the bridge of his nose.
"We can't even contact our newest S-Class hero."
Sitch turned to Toribo. "Can the vigilance network track him?"
The analyst nodded, already typing.
"We've had multiple witness pings in C-City. Last known drone visual was from the evacuation drones during the Marugori incident. I can pull satellite imagery and run a facial vector trace."
He clicked a few more times. Then paused.
"Got him. One confirmed sighting near the crater. Then again on a nearby rooftop two hours later. Cross-referencing building records now…"
A minute passed.
"Address found. Small apartment, one-room unit in Z-City. No elevator. No known utilities subscription. Rents are typically cash-based and unregistered. Looks like he's squatting, paying under the table or...not paying at all."
"So he's broke," Exma muttered.
"Very broke," added Busho.
"Perfect," Jinzuren said with a smirk. "That means he's likely to read the letter we're sending. People with no money rarely ignore government mail."
They all chuckled quietly.
"Draft the official message," Sitch said, rising from his seat. "And hand-deliver it via the Z-City office. I don't want this falling into a bureaucratic black hole. This man may very well be our new greatest weapon after Blast."
Jinzuren nodded and stood as well.
"Understood. I'll handle it myself."
(Meanwhile on an Apartment on Z-City…)
"Achoo!" Sneezed the new Saitama while preparing a curry with whatever the old one had on his apartment.
Oh man! I hope no one is talking about me behind my back!
Author Note: Surprise Chapter! I was pleasantly surprised with how fast this story grew, so as a reward for my dear readers, here is an extra chapter. Thanks a lot!!
P.S from Author: In this universe the Hero Association works alongside the goverment, although they operate with independence, they receive funding from contracts with the state. I did this change because I find it more realistic for them to subsist like this, than depending only on donations or investors.