Several tentacles surged toward Debbie and the others with incredible speed, but at that moment, a bald man appeared in a flash of white light in front of them. He faced Debbie and her group, looking somewhat bewildered. Unlike the yellow uniform he wore last time, he was dressed in blue-striped pyjamas, holding a rinsing cup with a toothbrush in his mouth, clearly in the middle of preparing for bed.
He tilted his head, glancing around curiously. “Huh?”
Boom!
Countless tentacles crashed down, smashing a massive crater into the ground. Dust swirled everywhere, and the frail old nun, Rosia, let out a hoarse laugh, as if mocking Ye Chui and his companions for their overconfidence. But then, she saw Ye Chui’s calm expression, seemingly unconcerned for his friends.
Rosia’s cloudy eyes darted toward Debbie’s position.
The Apostle’s tentacles had retracted. In the crater they had created, the bald man, his head almost gleaming, still stood. Debbie, Lesha, Green, Jiji, and Xiululu stared at him, dumbfounded, as if unable to believe it. The bald man had completely withstood and blocked the tentacles’ assault!
He seemed a bit slow to react, though. Scratching his scalp with one hand, his listless eyes studied the terrifying monster before him. In this tense moment, he casually rinsed his mouth with the water from his cup, spat it out, and said, “Ah, back in this weird place again…”
By now, nearly half of the First Apostle had emerged from the blood-red rift. Its massive, grotesque head and octopus-like tentacles let out an indescribable, piercing screech. After a brief pause, the tentacles lunged at the bald man again with a whooshing sound.
This time, the attack came from the side. One tentacle sprouted sharp bone spikes, whipping toward the nonchalant heroic spirit like a lash.
The previous attack had been entirely blocked, which likely made the Apostle realise the bald man’s strength, so it unleashed a fraction of its true power.
Among those present, only Ye Chui and Debbie had witnessed the extraordinary combat ability of this heroic spirit. Even so, Debbie couldn’t fathom the full extent of his power, as the thugs on the street last time hadn’t come close to testing Saitama’s strength.
Swish! The spiked tentacle struck the bald man. He made no attempt to dodge or resist, taking the blow that would have been fatal to others. With a bang, he was hurled aside, crashing through the church’s marble wall, leaving a gaping hole and a trench in the ground.
Rosia’s dry laughter rang out again. “He’s done for. No matter what you summoned, that blow would kill even a dragon. He’s finished!”
“Is that so?” Ye Chui’s expression remained calm.
Then, from the hole in the wall, the bald heroic spirit staggered back out. His pyjamas were torn in several places, which seemed to annoy him. “These are new pyjamas. I only wore them for a day.”
Rosia was speechless.
An enraged, piercing roar echoed from the blood-red rift. Several of Apostle Adams’s tentacles suddenly plunged into the ground, cracking the marble floor with spreading fissures that raced toward the bald man.
His face retained its bored expression, watching the cracks approach.
“Watch out!” Lesha shouted. “It’s attacking from below!”
“Oh, oh.” The bald man responded, glancing at Lesha, though it wasn’t clear if he was acknowledging her warning.
Then, from beneath his feet, a massive tentacle burst through the ground, wrapping around him and dragging his entire body underground. More of Apostle Adams’s tentacles followed, pounding into the earth, as if intent on finishing him below.
The church floor erupted with bulges and cracks. Two unfortunate civilians, used as magic batteries, fell into the fissures, which then closed like monstrous jaws due to the intense underground battle.
Moments later, the ground’s tremors stopped. The Apostle’s tentacles withdrew, and a sharp, triumphant sound came from the rift, as if it were laughing.
“It’s useless. You can’t stop the Apostle…” Rosia, though extremely weak, spoke to Ye Chui with cold fanaticism. But why was this boy still so calm?
Debbie, Lesha, and the others looked at the ground with worry. That attack had seemed devastating. They wondered how the bald man had fared. Then, the shattered floor shifted. A bald head poked out, climbing unsteadily from the ground. On his shoulders, he carried two people, the civilians who had fallen into the cracks. He set them down, brushed his hands, and shook off the dirt.
Not only had he survived the underground battle, but he had also saved the two civilians in the process!
Rosia’s face finally changed, her voice trembling with shock. “This is impossible! How could you summon something like this!?”
Apostle Adams let out a disbelieving roar.
“This is ridiculous. I’m getting annoyed. I just took a bath, and now I’ll have to do it again!” the bald man said, looking up at Apostle Adams. He shook one arm, as if ready to fight.
Until now, he had been passively taking hits. Only now did he seem to muster some enthusiasm.
Apostle Adams’s tentacles curled back slightly, perhaps in fear, but soon it roared with fury, sending several tentacles rushing toward the bald man again.
He leapt forward, meeting the tentacles with surprising speed. His fist, delivered with moderate seriousness (not very or extremely serious, mind you), struck the incoming tentacles.
It wasn’t a dramatic collision. The tentacle he hit was massive, nearly as thick as his height, yet when his fist made contact, its forward momentum halted. Ripples, like waves on water, spread from the point of impact. The tentacle’s veiny surface swelled and burst, cracking open with blood and foul mucus spilling out. The destruction continued, spreading to the massive head connected to it.
A shattered tentacle fell, landing right in front of Rosia. The old nun’s body shook, as if she had forgotten to breathe.
The fleshy, grotesque head began to deform, as if some terrifying force was surging within, trying to break free. Its eyes shook violently, veins spreading across the massive eyeball.
Bang! The eyeball burst.
