MTLNOVEL Chapter 36: Want a Match?
King's face flushed red in an instant, and desperate to steer the moment away, he quickly shifted the topic.
"Please, have a seat, Mr. Hansen. There are drinks and cake in the fridge, and snacks under the coffee table if you want some."
Hansen slipped off his shoes, neatly tucking them into the cabinet with practiced ease.
"Then I'll help myself," he said with casual confidence. "Also, just call me Hansen."
They then entered the living room. King went to the kitchen to fetch some fruit, trying to look like a proper host. But when he returned, the sight that greeted him made his heart sink, Hansen was already strolling about, hands clasped behind his back, looking at shelves and corners as though he lived there. He examined the apartment with quiet interest, as if memorizing the layout for a long-term stay.
King froze, his mind going blank.
Damn it! His peaceful single life might actually be coming to an end!
Still, the anxious weight pressing down on him earlier seemed lighter now. The suffocating pressure, forced… no, voluntarily accepted, had eased. Hansen might be terrifyingly powerful, but he didn't feel malicious.
When Hansen curiously picked up an unopened game disc, King reacted instinctively. He quickly grabbed a controller from the sofa and said, "This is a new fighting game! It's been getting great reviews. Want to try a match?"
Interest flickered in Hansen's eyes. He accepted the controller without hesitation. "Sure. Though it's been a long time since I played something like this."
"That's fine," King replied politely. "We're just playing for fun anyway."
But the night unfolded with Hansen being mercilessly crushed. King completely dominated him, match after match, until the hours blurred together.
…
On the television, Hansen's muscular fighter hit the ground yet again, KO'd for the ninety-ninth time by King's delicate magical girl character. With one hand, King executed flawless combos, chaining moves together in a dazzling display. His other hand, however, was calmly holding a glass of iced cola, sipping through a straw and making soft slurping sounds, as if the match required no effort at all.
Hansen's forehead twitched, a vein throbbing faintly. He was left speechless, staring at the screen with a dark expression.
"Wait a second, King… are you seriously this good at games?"
Setting down the controller, his mouth twitched uncontrollably. In that moment, he finally understood the helpless frustration Saitama must always feel around King.
By all logic, Hansen should have been unstoppable. As a monster, his speed, precision, vision, and reflexes far surpassed any human's. His senses were extraordinary. Yet, in King's hands, he appeared like a clumsy schoolkid who had just learned to walk but dared to enter an Olympic sprint.
"It's nothing," King said casually, taking another sip of cola. Then, as if it were trivial, he added, "I just happened to win a few offline fighting game tournaments back in the day. The trophies are under the table, propping up the corners."
Hansen fell silent, his expression tightening. That was the worst kind of bragging, the invisible kind.
He slowly got up, stretching his stiff neck after hours of sitting, and a sly smile spread across his face. "Fine. Then I hope tomorrow during training, you'll be able to show me this same level of skill, King."
"Pffft! Cough, cough!"
King nearly choked to death. The big gulp of cola he had just swallowed sprayed everywhere as he coughed violently, his calm façade collapsing in a heartbeat. A heavy shadow seemed to loom over him, crushing his composure.
Wait... Hansen couldn't be serious, could he?
"W-wait, Hansen! I really do have weaknesses!" King stammered, waving his hands in a panic. "How about… we play another match instead?"
"No." Hansen's reply was sharp and final. He gave a dismissive snort and strode toward the guest bedroom without looking back.
"Tomorrow morning at seven sharp, training starts. If you're even one second late, deal with the consequences. I'm going to sleep now."
The bedroom door shut with a crisp snap, and a faint chill drifted through the living room like an unspoken warning.
King stood frozen, staring blankly at the closed door. His body stiffened, and a cold sweat trickled down his forehead.
He felt completely numb. In that moment, life itself seemed hopeless.
After spending half a day with Hansen, King had finally convinced himself the man wasn't a bad person. At the very least, Hansen carried no hostility toward him. That realization let King's taut nerves loosen, but with relaxation came the danger of letting his guard down.
"With my physical condition, training will definitely kill me. Maybe I should just slip away ahead of time… uh!"
The thought had barely formed before his stomach betrayed him, roaring like thunder in protest.
Gurgle…
Only then did he remember that he had eaten next to nothing since arriving. He had been too absorbed in gaming, surviving on a few scattered snacks and drinks. Even at the ramen shop, he hadn't eaten enough, and now his stamina bar felt completely drained, flashing empty as though on the verge of collapse.
"No… better not run away. I'll starve before I get anywhere…"
King's face turned pale. Looking weak and pitiful, he dragged himself off the sofa, one hand clutching his stomach while the other braced against the wall. Step by unsteady step, he staggered toward the kitchen, desperate to cook a pack of instant noodles just to stay alive.
…
Inside the guest room, Hansen had not gone to sleep. He stood before the wide floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the nightscape of M City.
From this high floor, King's apartment offered a sweeping view of half the metropolis. Neon lights flickered, traffic flowed like rivers, and the city revealed a beauty at night that differed completely from its daytime charm.
"King may be a walking monster magnet, which is useful, but if I rely only on myself, the efficiency is still too low," Hansen murmured. His eyes sharpened, gleaming with intent. "It's about time… come out, my tools!"
At his thought, Trillion-Level Division activated in silence.
Shhhhhh!
The sound was faint, like tissue stretching and cells dividing. Ten figures peeled themselves away from Hansen's body like shadows, expanding and solidifying until they stood upright in the spacious room.
Each of these clones had bright eyes, distinct expressions, and movements that carried their own individuality. From the very moment they appeared, it was clear they each possessed independent thought and awareness.
As Hansen's strength had grown, his cellular reserves had multiplied, and with that, the power of his clones had advanced as well.
Some stretched their limbs in exaggerated motions, their joints crackling like firecrackers as they loosened up with obvious pleasure.
One leaned coolly against the wall with crossed arms, shooting the original Hansen a look full of judgment.
Another, curious like a mischievous child, tapped the glass of the window before bouncing on the bed to test its softness.
"Oh? A new version update? This body feels pretty good!"
A clone flexed his wrists, marveling at the raw energy coursing through him, clearly stronger than the last generation of split-offs.
"Not bad at all. Way better than the defective trash from last time!"
"The original finally understands that you get what you pay for."
"Hmph. Finally letting us out for some fresh air!"
Another clone, colder and more severe, crossed his arms and grumbled.
"Being locked away so long, my bones were about to rust. If I stayed in any longer, I might have started a rebellion."
"Boss, who are we smashing this time? Just say the word and we'll go all out! I'll make sure the enemy doesn't even leave ashes behind!" shouted another, fists cracking as he clenched them, his manic grin betraying eagerness for chaos.
The real Hansen rubbed his temples, exasperated by the scene of rebellious troublemakers who were, in truth, nothing more than himself multiplied.
"…Do you all really find it so amusing to start running your mouths the moment you appear?"