Chương 42: Chapter 39: The Ripple Event

The faculty staff room of Beacon Academy was usually a bastion of quiet professionalism, smelling deeply of roasted coffee beans, polished mahogany, and high-grade scroll electronics. Today, however, the large central holotable was illuminated by a glowing, floating array of viral social media pictures captured in the commercial districts of Vale. At the head of the table stood Professor Harold Mulberry and Professor Ann Greene, their arms crossed as they gave their firsthand account.

Floating above the projector were multiple high-resolution angles of Saitama from the previous afternoon. Specifically, the moments immediately following the terrorist van crash. The synthetic, textured black male wig sat perfectly framing his face, completely transforming his usual blank, egg-like roundness into a strikingly handsome, sharp-jawed aesthetic that had the entire Kingdom of Vale talking.

"I must admit, the optical transition is mathematically staggering," Professor Bartholomew Oobleck zipped around the table in a literal green blur, his coffee mug rattling against his saucer as his eyes darted micro-seconds between the different holographic angles.

"A singular cosmetic modification entirely recontextualizes the structural facial symmetry! To think a standard synthetic hairpiece could bridge the aesthetic gap between an ordinary janitor and a mythological warrior class is anthropologically fascinating!"

"Fascinating? It's an absolute public nuisance!" Professor Thumbelina Peach crossed her arms tightly, her cheeks burning with a heavy, deeply reluctant pink blush as she stared at the dashing image of the hero. Despite the undeniable aesthetic appeal, she aggressively tapped her foot against the floorboards.

"I don't care if he looks like a prince from a classical fairy tale! I will never forgive him for the complete and utter demolition of my rare Atlas Fire-Lilies and Vacuan Fire-Ferns! The structural integrity of Greenhouse Four is completely ruined!"

"Oh, come now, Thumbelina! You know it wasn't really his fault," Professor Peter Port boomed with a hearty, belly-shaking laugh, his large mustache twitching as he slapped his hand against his knee.

"Besides, looking at these photographs..." Port puffed out his chest proudly, resting a hand on his belt buckle as he gestured toward the hologram.

"... I must say, he reminds me tremendously of my younger self during my early days at the academy! The same striking jawline, the same magnetic aura, the same undeniable charm that drove the young huntresses wild!" A heavy, synchronized silence fell over the room as Oobleck, Mulberry, and Greene all turned their heads to stare at Port with absolute, unadulterated skepticism.

"Right, Peter. Sure," Professor Mulberry rolled his eyes. Unbeknownst to the bickering faculty, Headmistress Glynda Goodwitch sat slightly removed from the group at her personal desk. Her scroll was held closely to her face, the screen reflecting a bright, vibrant glow. On it, she was quietly scrolling through a private gallery of the downtown incident. Her emerald eyes traced the sharp lines of Saitama's wig-framed profile, a sudden, intense warmth blooming across her cheeks.

A profound, entirely uncharacteristic blush crept up her neck, her breath catching slightly as she stared at the sheer, undeniable handsome nature of the man when he wasn't looking like a deflated thumb.

"Glynda? Headmistress?" Professor Greene's analytical voice suddenly cut through the air. The entire faculty turned their gazes toward her, noticing her absolute silence.

"Is something amiss with the security logistics?" Glynda immediately snapped back to her senses. Her heart did a violent, undignified flutter against her ribs as she hastily snapped her scroll shut and slid it beneath a stack of disciplinary paperwork. She adjusted her glasses with a swift, aggressive flick of her finger, clearing her throat with a harsh, authoritative rasp to mask her panic.

"Nothing is amiss, Professor Greene," Glynda said, her voice instantly recovering its icy, no-nonsense edge as she stood up, her riding crop tapping against her palm.

"The downtown incident has been resolved, the terrorists are in custody, and the civilian chatter is irrelevant. Break time is officially over, professors. We have a curriculum to run and an academy perimeter to secure. Let us get back to work." The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Meanwhile, in the bustling communal courtyard of the Beacon dormitories, the atmosphere was no less chaotic. Grouped around a stone bench under the shade of a large oak tree, Team RWBY and Team JNPR were huddled tightly around a singular scroll held by Yang Xiao Long.

"Oh my gods, look at him!" Yang whistled loudly, a massive, teasing grin plastered across her face as her lilac eyes sparkled. Her cheeks were dusted with a prominent pink blush as she zoomed in on the image of Saitama holding his discount sponges while sporting the sleek black hair.

"I mean, we all knew the guy was strong, but who knew he was hiding a literal S-rank supermodel face under that bald head? Ruby, Weiss, you two are seriously lucky you got to see this masterpiece with your own eyes!" Hearing Yang's teasing remark, Weiss Schnee instantly crossed her arms, her head snapping to the side as a bright, furious crimson blush engulfed her entire face. She puffed out her chest and let out a sharp, dramatic huff, her lips forming a classic, irritated pout.

"Hmph! It was entirely unremarkable, Yang! He looked completely ridiculous standing there with a broken window frame on his head! It didn't affect me in the slightest, nor should it affect the academy's public standing! He is still just a frustratingly lazy, uncultured civilian who happened to get hit by a stray hairpiece!"

"Right, right, totally unremarkable," Ruby Rose giggled awkwardly, her own face still incredibly pink as she twirled a lock of her short red hair.

"That's why you stared at him for three full minutes before helping him take it off, Weiss."

"Ruby! Silence!" Weiss shrieked, her pout intensifying. Across the bench, the members of Team JNPR were in a state of absolute, synchronized amazement.

"Wow..." Jaune Arc blinked comically, his jaw dropping as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his own blue tracksuit.

"He looks... incredibly cool. Like, if I didn't know he was a janitor who cries over grocery coupons, I'd think he was a legendary hero from the ancient mistralian archives."

"It is a remarkably powerful look," Pyrrha Nikos agreed, her green eyes shining with genuine admiration as she rested a hand on Jaune's shoulder.

"The structure of the hair entirely complements his posture. It gives him the appearance of a true master." Blake Belladonna looked over Yang's shoulder, her amber eyes widening significantly as her concealed feline ears twitched beneath her black bow.

"W-Well... He does look like the protagonists in the novels..." A subtle, yet undeniable blush colored her face as she quietly stared at the screen, entirely captivated by how much the wig changed his entire presence.

"He looks like a ninja! A super-secret, ultra-handsome space ninja!" Nora Valkyrie cheered, bouncing on the tips of her toes while Lie Ren simply nodded in quiet, philosophical agreement, murmuring something about the visual balance of a proper hairline. Before Yang could tease her teammate any further, a loud, echoing commotion shattered the peace of the courtyard.

"MISTER SAITAMAAA! PLEASE WAIT!"

"WE HAVE THE RECONSTRUCTIVE FORMULA!" From the main archway of the campus, a massive, chaotic dust cloud erupted. Charging out of the fog at absolute top speed was a frantic, terrified green blur. Saitama was running for his literal life, his face twisted into an exaggerated, wide-mouthed caricature of pure, comical panic. His dotted eyes were practically crying tears of sheer exhaustion as he clutched a standard mop to his chest like a shield.

"Leave me alone! It was an accident! I don't want your stupid liquids!" Saitama yelled, his voice cracking comically as he rounded the stone fountain. Hot on his heels was a roaring, hyper-enthusiastic mob of dozens of first-year students. Leading the vanguard was Toby, waving a massive, professional-grade hair styling brush like a weapon.

Next to him, Marcus sprinted with a heavy cardboard box overflowing with various styled male wigs, while Chloe sprinted with a massive, industrial-sized can of premium holding spray. Right beside them, Lyra the Leopard Faunus was using her enhanced feline agility to leap over benches, her spots a blur as she aggressively brandished a large, glittering bottle of "Ultimate Super-Gro Hair Shampoo and Deep Conditioner."

"Mister Saitama! You look ten times better with hair! Let us help you realize your true potential!" Lyra yelled, her tail swishing with fierce determination as she lunged off a stone pillar.

"We brought the extra-strength growth serums! Just give us five minutes!" Marcus shouted, tossing a brown wig in the air like a net.

"I told you, my head can't grow hair anymore! Get away from me! You guys are freaking me out!" Saitama shrieked, his legs turning into a classic cartoon wheel of hyper-speed as he veered sharply toward the library doors, desperately trying to outrun the sudden, hair-obsessed army of his own students.

Watching the legendary, planet-cracking hero get aggressively hunted down by a pack of teenagers armed with shampoo, Team JNPR, Ruby, Yang and Blake could only burst into a roaring fit of laughter, while Weiss covered her face in her hands, utterly exhausted by the daily absurdity of Beacon Academy.