Chương 133: Chapter 126: The Immovable Ordeal

The state-of-the-art training arena within Atlas Academy was an architectural marvel of hard-light shielding and reinforced titanium. Currently, it was being subjected to an apocalyptic symphony of destruction. Deafening explosions, blinding flashes of Dust, and the chaotic crescendo of clashing metal echoed relentlessly through the massive, high-ceilinged chamber. In the absolute, dead center of this localized hurricane of violence stood Saitama.

He was clad in his iconic, bright yellow hero suit, his pristine white cape fluttering lazily in the gale-force winds of the combined assaults. His face was a perfectly flat, unblinking oval of profound, soul-crushing boredom. He raised a red-gloved hand, inserting his pinky finger into his ear and digging around casually for wax.

"Don't let up! Keep the pressure on!" Ruby Rose screamed over the din of battle, her silver eyes blazing with determination. She triggered her Semblance, bursting into a hyper-accelerated storm of rose petals. She ricocheted off the arena walls, materializing right in front of Saitama to deliver a devastating, high-velocity downward cleave with Crescent Rose. CLANG! The massive sniper-scythe sparked violently against Saitama's bald head, bouncing off as if she had just struck a solid mountain of bedrock.

Saitama didn't even blink.

"Switch!" Weiss Schnee commanded gracefully. She glided across the battlefield on a series of white glyphs, casting a massive, black Gravity glyph directly behind Yang Xiao Long.

"Eat this!" Yang roared, her lilac eyes flashing a furious crimson. She launched herself off the Gravity glyph, accelerating to the speed of a missile. She channeled every ounce of her Semblance into her golden gauntlets, delivering a cataclysmic, dual-fisted shotgun blast directly into Saitama's chest. A shockwave ripped through the arena, cracking the floor tiles. Saitama simply looked down at his chest, brushing a speck of soot off his yellow zipper.

"Our turn!" Jaune Arc yelled, charging forward with a heavy, thundering sprint. Utilizing the hyper-dense, terrifying muscle mass he had built through Saitama's torturous regime, Jaune slammed his reinforced shield directly into Saitama's back with the force of a speeding freight train. Saitama didn't budge a single millimeter.

"Boop!" Nora Valkyrie cackled maniacally, riding the recoil of her hammer high into the air. She brought Magnhild down with a localized, pink explosion of pure kinetic fury, striking Saitama squarely on the shoulder. Right beside her, Pyrrha Nikos moved with flawless Spartan precision, hurling Miló in its javelin form with magnetic acceleration.

Lie Ren and Blake Belladonna blurred through the smoke simultaneously, delivering a rapid, synchronized flurry of grappling blades and ribbon-slashes from Saitama's blind spots.

"This is insane!" Flynt Coal shouted, entirely bewildered as he blasted a massive, concussive wave of sound from his trumpet. The sonic blast washed over the bald hero, doing absolutely nothing but gently ruffling his cape.

"Keep hitting him! We have to make him move!" Neon Katt cheered, rollerblading at blistering speeds around the anomaly, unleashing a relentless barrage of strikes with her nunchaku.

"I'm hitting him as hard as I can!" Kobalt grunted, lashing out with a heavy, Dust-infused kinetic strike.

"It's like fighting a brick wall!" Ivori added, swinging his whip with maximum force, entirely overwhelmed by the sheer durability of their target.

"Target remains stationary! Adjusting trajectory!" Ciel Soleil calculated in a rapid monotone, maintaining her strict military discipline as she fired a barrage of precise, armor-piercing rounds from her tactical weaponry.

"Initiating maximum output!" Penny Polendina beamed cheerfully. The halo of swords detached from her back, forming a circular array that unleashed a blinding, concentrated green laser directly at the hero. Even Oscar Pine was in the fray. Though he lacked a Semblance, his body moved with the ancient, fluid muscle memory of Ozpin. He vaulted over a cracked floorboard, swinging The Long Memory with a desperate, precise strike aimed at the back of Saitama's knee.

"Just... budge! Please!" Oscar grunted, straining with all his might as the cane struck Saitama's leg. Outside the primary blast zone, sitting comfortably on a stack of training mats, Neopolitan was having the time of her life. She wore her casual, stylish black trench coat, her legs crossed elegantly. In her lap sat a massive, premium box of Atlas bakery cookies. She took a happy bite of a chocolate-chip cookie, thoroughly enjoying the spectacular, completely futile struggle of the Huntsmen.

With her other hand, she held up her sleek Scroll, happily recording the absolute absurdity of the strongest man in the universe being treated like a human punching bag. On the opposite side of the observation deck, Winter Schnee stood with impeccable military rigidity. Her pale blue eyes darted rapidly across a massive array of holographic monitors, continuously gathering and processing the anomaly's kinetic data, just as Glynda Goodwitch had done months ago.

On the arena, Saitama inspected the earwax on his pinky finger, completely ignoring the lasers, the explosions, the scythes, and the sonic blasts actively detonating against his body.

"Never thought I'd be doing this incredibly boring and annoying 'training dummy' thing again..." Saitama grumbled, letting out a long, heavy sigh as Yang punched him in the face for the thirtieth time. His mind drifted back to the early hours of the morning, remembering exactly how he had been roped into this ridiculous situation.

It had started in General Ironwood's office. Saitama, fully dressed in his "Darwin" disguise, the sharp black suit, pristine white trench coat, and bowler hat, had stood before the General's massive steel desk. Specialist Winter Schnee stood at attention beside Ironwood, while Headmistress Glynda Goodwitch glared strictly from a cross-continental holographic screen.

"Seriously?" Saitama had complained, his voice dripping with comical annoyance.

"You want me to be a punching bag for the students here too?"

"It is highly necessary, Mr. Saitama," General Ironwood had explained, resting his hands on his desk.

"The 'proposal' I discussed with Headmistress Goodwitch yesterday was a formal request to borrow your services. As the 'Tactical Kinetic Evaluator' for Beacon Academy, your... unique durability forged Team RWBY and Team JNPR into elite combatants. I need you to do the same for our Atlas teams."

"We must hone their skills and advance their strength and agility to peak parameters," Winter had added professionally.

"Furthermore, it is imperative that we re-examine your own durability and agility data within our Atlesian metrics. It is important for the Kingdom, for the students, and for your own tactical awareness." Saitama had comically crossed his arms, turning his head away with a stubborn pout.

"No way. It's way too much of a hassle. I already babysit too many kids as it is. I'm on vacation." From her screen, Glynda had let out a long, motherly sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Mr. Saitama, please," Glynda had reasoned, her tone shifting from strict administrator to a desperately negotiating parent.

"You call yourself a hero, do you not? This is highly relevant to your heroic duties! By preparing these students for the harsh realities of the Grimm, you are indirectly saving countless lives! It is an act of profound heroism." Saitama had paused, a singular, dotted eye sliding toward the screen. He was slightly intrigued by the "heroic" validation, but his overwhelming laziness was still winning the internal battle.

"I mean... standing still while teenagers hit me with sticks isn't exactly heroic..." Seeing the hesitation, Ironwood and Winter had exchanged a swift, highly tactical nod. It was time for the ultimate maneuver. With clinical precision, Winter Schnee reached into the breast pocket of her uniform. She withdrew a thick, glossy booklet and slapped it down onto the General's desk.

"These are highly exclusive, international VIP supermarket coupons. Like we promised the other day," Winter announced coldly, "Valid at every high-end grocery chain in the floating city of Atlas." Saitama's breath caught in his throat. His dotted eyes completely expanded to the size of dinner plates, locking onto the glossy, beautiful promise of discounted produce.

"My logistics unit will send more Solitas premium Wagyu beef directly to your penthouse," Ironwood added, completely deadpan This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. The color drained from Saitama's face, instantly replaced by a blinding, holy light of pure, unadulterated capitalist temptation.

"I ACCEPT!" Saitama had shouted, his face suddenly shifting into a heavily shaded, dramatic portrait of heroic resolve as he slammed his fist against his chest.

"As a hero, it is my absolute duty to guide the next generation! Leave it to me!" Ironwood and Glynda had looked at each other across the digital feed, both letting out a synchronized, utterly baffled sigh.

Back in the present, Saitama shrugged his shoulders, entirely ignoring the barrage of explosive Dust rounds detonating against his cape.

"Well, at least I got the coupons and the premium Wagyu beef again," Saitama reasoned lazily.

"ONE MORE TIME! ALL TOGETHER!" Ruby shrieked, her voice cracking from sheer exertion. The students rallied for one final, desperate, coordinated assault. Weiss cast a massive Haste glyph beneath their feet. Flynt and Neon unleashed a blinding, deafening wave of sound and neon energy. Penny fired a massive, concentrated green laser, synchronizing perfectly with Ciel's explosive munitions.

Oscar, propelled by Jaune's heavy shield-bash, vaulted into the air, bringing The Long Memory down right as Ruby, Yang, Blake, Nora, Pyrrha, Ren, Kobalt, and Ivori delivered their ultimate, Aura-draining combination strikes directly onto Saitama's center of mass. KRA-KOOOOOOM! A blinding, cataclysmic explosion of dust, fire, and kinetic force completely engulfed the center of the arena. The shockwave rattled the observation glass. The smoke slowly, agonizingly cleared. Saitama was standing in the exact same spot.

His posture hadn't shifted a millimeter. He didn't have a single scratch, scorch mark, or bruise on him. Around him, the arena floor looked like a warzone. Team RWBY, Team JNPR, Team FNKI, Oscar and Ciel are all collapsed simultaneously. They hit the cracked floorboards in a chaotic heap of groaning, panting, completely exhausted teenagers. Their weapons clattered uselessly beside them. The only student still standing was Penny Polendina.

However, the glowing green lights on her chassis were flickering dimly, and she was slouched forward, her internal cooling fans whirring at maximum overdrive. She was, quite literally, systematically exhausted. Winter Schnee stepped out from behind the observation glass, her voice echoing clearly over the intercom.

"Time's up, students. Today's training exercise is officially concluded," Winter announced smoothly.

"I have successfully gathered the required baseline durability data for today. The schedule for the next training session will be announced shortly." Winter offered a crisp, professional bow toward the center of the arena.

"Thank you for your time, Tactical Kinetic Evaluator." Saitama sluggishly scratched the back of his bald head.

"Whatever. Honestly, I prefer the speed test with the brittle wooden helmets over this. This is just boring." The exhausted students sprawled on the ground let out a collective, groaning exhale.

"Ahaha..." Yang laughed weakly, her cheek pressed against the cold floor.

"Man, this is kinda nostalgic."

"Nostalgic is one word for it," Nora wheezed, her limbs spread out like a starfish.

"Painful is another."

"It honestly doesn't feel like it was that long ago," Weiss sighed, closing her eyes as she remembered the brutal, humiliating evaluations back at Beacon Academy. While Team RWBY and Team JNPR were accustomed to the invincible wall of despair that was Saitama, the rest of the students were entirely shell-shocked. Oscar, Ciel and the four Team FNKI are baffled seeing the completely unharmed Saitama yawning in boredom.

"Are you kidding me?!" Flynt Coal gasped, pushing himself up onto his elbows, entirely bewildered.

"We hit him with enough localized firepower to level a small mountain, and his godlike durability just... absorbed it?!"

"His physical parameters are completely beyond all known Atlesian metrics!" Ciel panted, her beret slightly askew as her analytical mind desperately tried to process the impossible data.

"It was absolutely sensational!" Penny cheered weakly, offering a trembling, exhausted thumbs-up despite her systemic drain. Neon Katt lay on her back, staring at Team RWBY and Team JNPR in absolute awe.

"You guys... you trained with him for months? No wonder your kinetic output and reaction times are so far beyond any standard Academy level! You four are amazing!"

"Your synergy is exceptional," Kobalt agreed, rubbing a sore shoulder. Oscar Pine, sitting on the floor while panting heavily, looked at the battle-hardened Huntsmen and Huntresses around him.

"It really is incredible. Your skills are so far beyond anything I've seen." Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang, Jaune, Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren exchanged highly awkward, strained laughs from the floor. Oscar pulled his knees to his chest. A heavy, melancholic sigh escaped his lips. He looked down at his hands, comparing himself to the titans surrounding him.

"I wonder if I can catch up with everyone..." He was the only one in the room without a Semblance. He hadn't gone to a combat school. He was just a farmer who had inherited a wizard's soul.

"It doesn't matter." Hearing the voice, Oscar flinched, looking up. Saitama had casually walked over, coming to a halt right in front of the boy by pure coincidence. The bald hero looked down at Oscar with his usual, unreadable deadpan expression.

"Huh?" Oscar blinked in bewilderment.

"It doesn't matter where you came from, or if you have a magic power thingy," Saitama said flatly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his yellow suit.

"Before I became a hero, I was just some depressed, unemployed guy in a cheap suit. I kept failing job interviews, and I honestly almost lost my will to live." Oscar's hazel eyes widened in profound shock.

"But then," Saitama continued, staring blankly at the ceiling, "I ran into this giant crab monster wearing tighty-whities. It was trying to kill a brat with a cleft chin. I fought it, saved the kid, and got a weird epiphany. So I trained." Saitama reached his red-gloved hand down toward the boy. Oscar stared at the hand for a second before reaching out. Saitama effortlessly hoisted the farm boy up onto his feet.

"Stop comparing yourself to everyone else just to justify your own weakness," Saitama said bluntly, looking Oscar dead in the eye. He reached out, gently patting the boy's shoulder as he walked past him.

"Just keep getting stronger in your own way. As long as you're putting in genuine, honest effort, that's all that matters." Oscar stood completely still, deeply moved by the blunt, uncomplicated wisdom. The crushing weight of his insecurities lifted significantly. A bright, determined smile broke across Oscar's face.

"I'll keep pushing my limits!" Oscar gave the hero a firm, respectful nod. As Saitama walked toward the outer area of the arena, he glanced over at Jaune.

"Blonde kid," Saitama called out lazily.

"You're doing good. Your core strength is getting a lot better since you've been doing my routine." Jaune's face instantly lit up with sheer, unadulterated pride. He snapped to attention.

"Thank you, master!" Saitama's face violently scrunched into a massive, irritated scowl.

"Please stop calling me that." Then, the heavy doors to the outer training room hissed open. Pietro Polendina rolled his mobility chair into the facility, followed closely by Maria Calavera, who leaned heavily on her wooden cane. Winter stepped forward to greet them.

"Good afternoon, everyone!" Pietro laughed warmly.

"Pietro! Maria!" Team RWBY, Team JNPR, and Oscar called out, waving respectfully as the two elders greeted them back. Penny's thrusters hummed to life. Despite her systemic exhaustion, she eagerly flew over to her father, landing gracefully beside his chair.

"Father! It was incredible!" Penny reported, her green eyes shining with excitement.

"Mr. Saitama's durability is beyond comprehension! I utilized my maximum output, and he was entirely unfazed!" Pietro chuckled heartily, surprised by her sheer excitement despite her drained state. He rubbed his bushy white chin.

"I can see that, my dear! You are practically running on fumes! Hmm... observing this, I am seriously considering designing a highly specialized hardware upgrade for you, just so you can keep up with our new Tactical Kinetic Evaluator!" Right as Saitama stepped out of the primary arena and into the staging room, a familiar, petite figure darted into his path. Neopolitan approached him with absolute, bouncing excitement.

She grabbed the fabric of his yellow hero suit, gesturing eagerly toward the exit with a massive, demanding grin. Saitama, easily guessing her intention, comically rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Alright, alright. Slow down, we will go get those smoothies."

"Wait! Hold on!" Neon Katt rollerbladed at blistering speed across the room, circling Saitama and Neo excitedly.

"I heard the rumors!" Neon begged, clasping her hands together.

"I heard Headmaster Theodore actually sent you the unreleased Vacuan next-gen VR console! Are you free this evening?! Can we crash your penthouse again to play it?!" Saitama and Neo paused. They slowly turned their heads, glancing at each other. Neo's lips curled into a wicked, highly competitive smirk. Saitama turned back to Neon, crossing his arms with a confident huff.

"Fine. Just don't cry and break the console when you lose." Neon grinned, showing off her teeth.

"Challenge accepted, cue-ball!" Saitama smiled, a look of profound, comical arrogance settling over his features. He chuckled darkly.

"You have no idea who you're dealing with. I am a master in gaming, you know. Even King acknowledges my skills back in my homeworld."

In A-City Hero Association Apartment, Saitama's Homeworld...

"WHAT THE HELL?!" The sterile, standard-issue hero apartment was filled with the frantic, rapid-fire clicking of plastic buttons. Saitama was hunched intensely over his television screen, a prominent vein throbbing on his bald head. His thumbs mashed the controller with desperate, furious speed. Beside him, sitting with absolute, unshakeable calmness, was the S-Class Rank 7 hero, King.

King was holding his controller loosely in one hand, casually pressing two buttons in a rhythmic, flawless sequence while taking a sip of soda with his other hand. On the screen, Saitama's fighting character was trapped in an infinite, inescapable juggle-combo, bouncing helplessly against the edge of the digital stage.

"THAT'S CHEAP!" Saitama roared, his voice cracking with pure, unadulterated gamer rage.

"STOP JUGGLING ME! LET ME LAND ON THE GROUND!" King took another sip of soda.

"Saitama-shi, you left your guard open on frame four. It is a fundamental error."

'KO!' Saitama screamed, nearly snapping the controller in half as his character was obliterated without landing a single hit.

"B... BULLSHIT! IT'S ALL BULLSHIIIT!!!"

In the staging area of Atlas Academy training room, Saitama stood with his arms crossed over his chest, comically nodding with deep, profound pride. He was entirely, blissfully oblivious to the horrifying reality of his own humiliating losing streaks. In his mind, he was an absolute gaming god.

"Yeah, I'm practically a pro," Saitama confirmed to Neon with utter delusion. Winter Schnee stepped forward, holding a sleek black garment bag. She handed it to the bald hero with a stern look.

"Mr. Saitama. Before you leave the Academy grounds, I must remind you to change clothes and maintain your disguise in the public sectors," Winter instructed strictly. Saitama grabbed the bag, answering lazily while walking out with Neo.

"Yeah, I know." Team RWBY, Team JNPR, Oscar, Pietro, Maria, and Winter witnessed Saitama walk out of the training room, with Neo excitedly dragging him by the sleeve. They couldn't help but notice the shifted dynamic between the two. Maria Calavera adjusted her goggles, leaning heavily on her cane.

"Is it just me, or does the little girl seem to be more... clingy, to the baldy?"

"Well, Neo is always like that to Saitama," Ruby chuckled softly, a warm smile touching her lips.

"But... you're right. She seems to be genuinely more happy with him lately." Pietro Polendina nodded affectionately, before a sudden spark of realization hit him. He turned his mobility chair toward the Specialist.

"Oh, that's right!" Pietro said, his jovial tone shifting to a serious, professional register. He looked up at Winter.

"Is the General available?" Winter nodded efficiently.

"He is in the office. Would you like an appointment?"

"Please do," Pietro requested, adjusting his glasses.

"This is regarding our 'Savior of Mantle'." Hearing the grand title that the people of Mantle had bestowed upon Saitama, Team RWBY and Team JNPR all widened their eyes in sudden, synchronized shock, wondering exactly what kind of chaotic, geopolitical storm Saitama had accidentally wandered into now.