Seeing a dozen people shamelessly step forward, Debbie and Green froze for a few seconds before their faces twisted with anger.
They called *our* guild shameless and underhanded? This behaviour was the epitome of shamelessness!
They had the gall to gang up with over a dozen people?
Yet Ye Chui’s expression remained calm. So, they were tearing off their masks and planning a group attack? He didn’t believe Panal just wanted to test a Three-Star Guild leader’s strength. They likely had some ulterior motive. But… with a strong enough fist, all schemes were paper tigers. And he had the hardest fist in the world.
He walked to Debbie, patting her shoulder to soothe the furious girl. “It’s fine. Step back and watch. To get the invitation, we need to teach these people a lesson and establish our guild’s reputation.”
“Take it easy,” Debbie said, turning to him. Everyone thought she was urging caution, but only Ye Chui, Green, and Gilga knew she meant not to go overboard. This was Fengyan City, not Stan Town, where they could act freely. They knew Ye Chui’s summoned bald hero had once punched the First Apostle Adams back with a single blow.
“I know,” Ye Chui nodded. As Debbie and Gilga stepped back to Green’s side, he turned to Panal. “So, you’ve decided to fight me together?”
Seeing Ye Chui’s “I’ll go easy on you” demeanor, Panal’s expression flickered with uncertainty. Initially, he’d have mocked Ye Chui’s overconfidence, but now… he felt uneasy.
A mere vice-leader like Debbie could summon a spirit that made Gastin kneel. The guild leader couldn’t be simple!
No, they couldn’t face him head-on. They needed a bigger advantage…
Panal schemed, but Ye Chui’s next words stunned him.
“Heh, fighting is such a hassle. How about this,” Ye Chui said with an innocent smile. “You bring out your strongest defensive sword skills and spells to block one punch from me.” He wagged his right index finger. “If you can withstand it, I’ll concede, and the wedding invitation is yours. How’s that?”
“What? Just one punch?”
“We only need to block one punch?”
“Is this kid pulling some trick?”
The crowd buzzed with astonishment. Could it be that easy?
Panal’s eyes darted, brows furrowing. “Mr. Ye Chui, what trick are you playing?”
“If there’s a trick, you can count it as my loss,” Ye Chui said, smiling.
Panal quickly turned to the chairman. “Mr. Chairman, please witness Mr. Ye Chui’s words!”
“This…” The chairman hesitated, still unsure how to handle Ye Chui. As the mercenary guild chairman, his prestige and profit came not from Three-Star guilds, which rarely took missions through the guild, only signing contracts akin to agreements. Two-Star and lower guilds were his real source of influence.
Yet, he was wary of provoking powerful guilds.
After a moment, seeing Ye Chui’s calm, confident expression, he assumed a strong trump card and nodded. “Fine, I’ll witness. Mr. Ye Chui, if they block your punch, please keep your word.”
“Of course,” Ye Chui said with a smile, turning to Panal. “Shall we begin?”
The dozen mages and swordsmen with Panal sprang into action.
[Earth Mother’s Protection]
[Rock Scales]
[Space Shield]
[Flame Turtle]
[Glacier Freeze]
[Wind’s Blessing]
…
Several magic books unleashed protective spells, forming layered barriers: a solid wall of earth, a massive stone with dragon-like scales, a translucent crystal-like space wall, a giant flaming turtle shell, an ice wall from a glacier illusion…
Meanwhile, several strong swordsmen gripped their swords or raised shields in front.
Most of these dozen mages and swordsmen were intermediate-level, a few senior. Their combined defence was impervious to ordinary spells or sword techniques. Even Gilga couldn’t break it, could she?
Panal sneered. “Guild Leader Ye Chui, please begin!”
“Alright…” Ye Chui eyed the thick defensive layers, smiling faintly. He summoned his magic book, tapping it lightly. With over six hundred points left, he had enough for Teacher Saitama to throw a solid punch.
A flash of white light, and a bald hero in a yellow uniform appeared beside Ye Chui, looking confused. “Oh, I’m back here again.” He waved at Ye Chui. “Hey, good to see you.” He politely waved to Green, Debbie, and Gilga.
Debbie waved back, covering her mouth with her other hand. “Wow, his bald head shines way more than Gastin’s…”
“Teacher Saitama, please hit them with a punch,” Ye Chui said.
“He’s a summoner too? But he has a magic book… he’s a rare summoner-mage!” someone exclaimed.
Those with both mage and swordsman abilities were called magic swordsmen, but summoner-mages, combining summoner and mage talents, were even rarer.
“This bald guy is his trump card? But he…” An elderly mage with white hair and beard looked shocked. “He doesn’t seem threatening at all!”
“No way, that girl summoned a golden sword aura spirit…” another said doubtfully.
“Be careful, this bald spirit isn’t ordinary,” Panal warned, though he still doubted. This clueless, curious bald guy, really that strong?
“Oh, they look tough,” the bald hero said, scanning the group. His gaze settled on Panal and the others, and in an instant, his expression—and seemingly his entire style—shifted. His childlike, doodle-like face turned sharp and commanding. He raised his right fist slightly.
“Here comes a one-tenth serious punch.”
With words incomprehensible to the others, a powerful aura erupted from the bald hero.
Those who’d underestimated him tensed, their faces stunned. This bald spirit was no ordinary being!
Gastin, supported nearby after his earlier defeat, felt the bald hero’s aura and trembled violently. This… this seemed even stronger than Gilga!
*Thud*, he collapsed to the ground.
Are you *really* just a Three-Star Guild?
“Here’s the one-tenth serious punch!” Teacher Saitama shouted, swinging forward.
*Bang!*
The earth wall shattered.
The dragon-scaled stone crumbled.
The translucent space barrier collapsed.
The flaming turtle shell broke into scattered flames.
The ice wall cracked densely, collapsing like mud.
…
The punch’s gust stirred the hall’s air, making everyone feel as if they were suffocating.
“Wait, wait!” The chairman, frantically summoning his green-covered magic book, conjured a water wall for protection. He pulled out the precious invitation, shouting, “Stop! The invitation’s yours!”
Too late. With a *whoosh*, his water wall dissolved, and he fell to the ground, now fully aware of Ye Chui’s power.
“We surrender!” Panal screamed.
“Guild Leader Ye Chui, please stop! The Mercenary Group will follow your orders!” A tall swordsman, his sword shattered, shouted desperately.
The dozen who’d stepped up to gang up on Ye Chui were now sprawled or staggering, some heavily injured by the punch’s force.
The hero’s single blow turned the hall into a scene of chaos, like the end of the world. Fortunately, it stopped quickly.
In front of Ye Chui, Teacher Saitama held his punching pose, arm not fully extended. His expression shifted back to its casual, doodle-like state. He shook his fist. “A one-tenth serious punch only got halfway out. This world restricts my power too much. Next time, I’ll try a one-fifteenth serious punch.”
He’d only thrown *half* a punch!
Yet the hall was a wreck, people toppled, groaning. With a *boom*, one wall collapsed, cracks spreading, revealing the street outside and stunned passersby.
In this magical world, people wielded great power, but for Teacher Saitama, who could punch through a mountain or rival a planet-destroying Saiyan, it still wasn’t enough.
Last time, against the Apostle, he’d used a “fairly serious” punch. Now, he’d found his limit in this world: a one-fifteenth serious punch.
“Well, I’ve got to hit the supermarket, so I’m off,” the hero said, as if eager to leave after causing damage. He waved to Ye Chui and vanished.
*Clunk!* A brick fell from the ceiling, no longer supported by the collapsed wall, landing near Ye Chui.
Ye Chui glanced at it, then at Panal, dishevelled and terrified as he rose. Smiling, Ye Chui said, “Sorry for messing up your guild…” Another wall collapsed with a *boom*, turning the once-grand guildhall into a hazard. A mess? This was demolition! Ye Chui continued, “Looks like you couldn’t block my punch. You lose.”
He turned to the chairman to claim the invitation.
The chairman, climbing to his feet, raised his hand, his face grim. Between his fingers was a fragment of the invitation—the rest had been shredded by the hero’s punch.
He looked at Ye Chui in horror. “I… I tried…”
Ye Chui: “Bloody hell, bloody hell, bloody hell…”
