Rising of the Caped Baldy

Chapter 4: The lone raccoon girl

"I asked who the hell you are?!" A man adorned in the darkest shades of black wielding a sword shouted. His blade was currently pointed at the depilated head of the Shield Hero. He inched closer every time a sliver of his patience shead. "I asked you a question!"

At this point, the tip of his blade was a mere inch away from the hero's nape. "...Oi, what's happening over there?" Saitama's voice was low, somewhat threatening even. A shade covered his eyes as his brows furrowed.

The other man looked at him strangely. "What does it look like? It's a slave camp." He answered without a hitch.

"Are you a slaver?" Saitama asked, this time an aura slipped out with every word. An aura that promised pain.

Suddenly, the man adorned in black felt a pang in his chest. Fear began to creep into his body. He's fought monsters before, even survived fights with top-tier mercs and adventurers. The similarity between the three groups was terror. The terror that they brought down upon their enemies. Whether it was meant as a deterrent or a warning. Anyone with some amount of strength, of decent instinct, can sense these warnings. It's a survival instinct buried under years of evolution. A skill to be unlocked again. He was proud to be one of those men. To know that he was strong enough to protect himself.

But at this moment, he wished that he wasn't. He wished he wasn't strong enough to sense danger. Wasn't strong enough to join a mercenary group. Wasn't strong enough to patrol the border of the camp. If he were weak, he wouldn't have felt this overwhelming sense of dread. Of undeniable power. Every time he felt that aura emanate from the man in front of him it felt like the world was placed on his shoulders, and it was burning.

This aura that the man gave off. It had no warnings, it was no deterrent, it was just an assurance. It assured that he would face agony. It made sure that it gave the idea of pure death to anything that could feel the titanic weight it brought down on others. He had never felt anything like this before. No monster or man had brought this much terror into his heart. Enough terror to stun him completely.

He felt his eye sting from a sweat drop entering it. He didn't even bother to blink the pain away, fearing that it may give the single small amount of time needed for the man in front of him to make true on the promise his aura gave.

He sucked the gathered saliva in his mouth and prepared to speak again. He smothered all the thoughts of screaming, of running away, or even attacking right there. The only thought he had right now was the hope of giving a satisfactory answer. Hope to be spared from ever feeling this aura again.

"N-Not really. I'm just a guard." He swallowed again. "I-I was just hired to guard the merchandise!" He had hoped that he had given the satisfactory answer.

It wasn't.

This time the aura came on full force. Not even a word was uttered from the person in front of him and yet he felt like he was being crushed. He stepped back without even willing it. At the same time, the years of training under his belt forced him to position his sword in front of himself, entering a defensive pose.

For some reason, he couldn't see clearly. A dark-grey tint covered the area the man was standing. Then he noticed it. The shaking. The uncontrollable shiver that wreaked havoc on his body. The grey tint was from the quick motion of his sword moving sporadically in his unsteady hands.

Before he was able to steady himself, Saitama had thrown him into the trees. A blur faster than the shaking sword, Saitama moved directly in front of him and slammed his knuckles into their face. The force was enough for the man that was thrown back to tear down two trees that had gotten in the way. At the same time, the other trees around them bent and shattered under immense air pressure. It was strong enough to elicit the attention of the other people in the camp.