Ops
# One Punch Supreme: Saitama's Cosmic Recruitment Drive
## Chapter 1: The Circle of Misfortune
The sun hung low over City Z, casting long shadows across the abandoned district that Saitama called home. His baldness gleamed in the fading light as he trudged up the cracked sidewalk, a single plastic grocery bag swinging limply from his hand. His yellow jumpsuit, slightly wrinkled from wear, contrasted sharply against the urban decay surrounding him.
"No discount leeks again," he muttered to himself, his perpetually bored expression unchanged. "Third day in a row."
He paused at an intersection, surveying the empty streets with disinterest. A distant explosion echoed somewhere in the city—probably another monster attack. Saitama considered investigating, but his stomach rumbled in protest. The hero work could wait until after dinner.
"What's the point of having super strength if you can't even get decent vegetables?" he sighed, continuing his homeward journey.
The wind picked up, sending discarded newspapers tumbling across his path. One flyer clung to his leg with static electricity, and he peeled it off without bothering to look at it. His mind was already occupied with what meager meal he could prepare from his disappointing groceries.
As he rounded the final corner to his apartment complex, something unusual caught his eye—a glowing pattern etched into the pavement, pulsing with an otherworldly blue light. The intricate design resembled no graffiti he'd ever seen before: concentric circles filled with arcane symbols, strange angles that seemed to shift when viewed directly, and characters in a language that had never existed on Earth.
"Ugh, kids these days," Saitama sighed with genuine annoyance, stepping directly into the middle of the elaborate design. "Graffiti just keeps getting weirder. The building manager's going to complain again."
He kicked a small rock out of his path, sending it skittering across one of the glowing lines.
The effect was immediate and catastrophic.
The circle flared to life, blinding azure light erupting skyward like a reverse lightning bolt. The ground trembled beneath his feet, concrete cracking in perfect geometric patterns that extended the circle's design. Yet Saitama merely stood there, grocery bag still dangling from his fingers, expression unmoved.
"Huh," he observed flatly. "That's new."
The sky above split open like a cosmic zipper, revealing swirling vortices of impossible colors—colors that had no business existing in any mortal spectrum. Seven distinct beams of light shot downward from the tear in reality, converging on the circle surrounding Saitama. Each beam possessed its own unique hue and quality: fiery crimson, regal blue, ethereal white, crystalline rainbow, cosmic violet, alien gold, and predatory amber.
A thunderous voice boomed from everywhere and nowhere at once:
"THE CONTRACT IS SEALED. THE ANCHOR IS CHOSEN. THE BINDING IS ETERNAL."
Saitama picked at his ear with his pinky finger, completely unbothered by the cosmic proclamation. "Could you keep it down? People are trying to relax around here."
The light faded gradually, leaving seven figures standing in a perfect circle around him. Seven women—if they could be called merely women—each radiating power beyond mortal comprehension.
Saitama blinked once, his expression neutral as he regarded each of them in turn. "Did I miss a hero association meeting or something?"
The tallest of the women, clad in gleaming red and blue samurai armor with black horns sprouting from her head, stepped forward. Her silvery-white hair flowed down her back, tied with a simple red ribbon. Her fierce red eyes blazed with battle-lust as she assessed Saitama.
"I am Tomoe Gozen, greatest warrior of the Heian era, now ascended to Oni form," she declared, her voice crisp and formal. Her hand rested on the hilt of her massive blade. "Who dares summon me from the Throne of Heroes?"
Before Saitama could respond, another woman pushed forward. She wore an elaborate white and blue ceremonial dress with fur-trimmed shoulders, her long blonde hair tied with blue ribbons, some strands highlighted with red. A small golden crown sat atop her head, and she clutched an ornate staff resembling a sword-key hybrid, glowing with teal magical energy.
"Artoria Avalon, Fairy King Protector of the Cosmos. This summoning breach violates seventeen interdimensional protocols," she stated, her green eyes scanning the area with analytical precision. "The harmonics are all wrong, the binding circle is incomplete, and the ethereal resonance is..." She paused, staring at Saitama with growing confusion. "You. How did you access primordial summoning code?"
"Uh, I was just walking home," Saitama replied, scratching his bald head. "With groceries."
A third woman laughed, the sound like tinkling crystal. She floated forward, her bare feet never touching the ground. Her platinum-blonde hair flowed elegantly to her legs, adorned with a blue ribbon and flower ornament. She wore what appeared to be a luxurious white and gold bikini-inspired gown with elaborate bows and flowing ribbons, perfectly balancing divine grace with alluring exposure.
"Oh my, aren't you the dullest-looking thing?" She sauntered closer, her movements hypnotic, cool blue eyes assessing Saitama with amusement. "Summer Morgan, Queen of the Fae, Sovereign of Salt and Sun. And you are...?"
"Saitama," he replied simply. "I'm a hero for fun."
All seven women stared at him, expressions ranging from disbelief to outrage to clinical curiosity.
A fourth woman pushed her way to the front. She had long, wild platinum-blonde hair and multiple voluminous, flame-tipped golden tails that swished behind her with predatory grace. Large fox ears adorned her head, and her fierce, slitted eyes radiated malice and intelligence. She wore a lavish white and red kimono-like robe with massive sleeves and ornate patterns, styled with ritualistic cords and sacred talismans.
"This is clearly a mistake," she declared, inspecting her perfectly manicured claws. "I am Tamamo Vitch Koyanskaya, Beast of Treasured Vows, and I do not get summoned by bald commoners. I have extinction quotas to fill." Her nine tails swished dangerously behind her, each tip glowing with divine fire.
"Can you all keep it down?" Saitama asked, glancing toward his apartment. "My neighbors might complain about the noise."
The fifth woman floated slightly off the ground, her long white hair with orange tips styled into massive layered tails that fanned out behind her like a celestial cloak. Her royal, fur-lined cape was adorned with golden trim, and a massive, spiked crown-like structure with two towering black-and-white horns adorned her head. Her golden eyes with sharp, inhuman pupils regarded Saitama with clear disdain.
"I am U-Olga Marie, the Alien God incarnate," she pronounced regally. "I was in the middle of conquering a universe. This is... inconvenient."
The sixth figure hadn't spoken yet. She stood perfectly still, her body crystalline and geometric, refracting light in impossible patterns. Her movements, when she finally shifted, were mechanical and precise, her eyes scanning everything with unnerving focus.
"Designation: ORT. Type: Ultimate One. Status: Bound." Her voice was eerily flat, devoid of any emotional markers. "Analysis of binding agent in progress."
The seventh and final woman floated a few inches off the ground, her flowing hair in deep violet and cyan swirling like nebulae. She wore a royal, galaxy-themed cloak with gold lattice patterns and a high collar, while horn-like black and red accessories adorned her head. Her bright eyes glowed with starlight, and her enormous cloak seemed to move on its own, like living cosmic tendrils decorated with blue star-like lights.
"Space Ishtar, Heaven's Final Weapon, Mistress of the Void," she declared, crossing her arms. "Whoever summoned me better have a good explanation or face immediate cosmic obliteration."
Saitama reached into his grocery bag. "Anyone want a banana? They were on sale. Three for the price of two."
All seven women stared at him in stunned silence.
"THE BINDING IS COMPLETE," the disembodied voice thundered again. "PROXIMITY PROTOCOL ENGAGED."
"What does that mean?" Saitama asked, genuinely curious as he peeled his banana.
As if to answer his question, Tomoe attempted to turn and walk away, perhaps to survey their surroundings. After precisely 100 meters, she hit what appeared to be an invisible wall. When she pushed against it, her body was unceremoniously yanked backward, sending her flying directly toward Saitama at tremendous speed.
He caught her with one hand, the other still holding his half-eaten banana.
"Interesting," he commented, setting her gently back on her feet.
Tomoe's face flushed slightly—whether from embarrassment or anger was unclear. "What sorcery is this?" she demanded, reaching for her sword.
Castoria was frantically drawing magical diagrams in the air with her staff, her expression growing increasingly alarmed. "The ritual has bound us all to remain within 100 meters of you at all times," she explained, consulting unseen magical readings. "You appear to be the anchor point."
"For how long?" Morgan demanded, her icy composure cracking slightly.
"Analyzing temporal parameters," ORT intoned, her crystalline form pulsing with internal light. "Result: permanent. No termination clause detected."
There was a moment of stunned silence.
Then all seven godlike beings began shouting at once.
"Unacceptable!"
"I demand release!"
"I'll destroy you!"
"This contract is void!"
"Cosmic error detected!"
"Prepare for oblivion!"
"Fix this immediately!"
Saitama sighed and continued walking toward his apartment building, finishing his banana and tossing the peel into a nearby trash can. "I'm going to make dinner. You can all figure this out yourselves."
To his mild annoyance and their collective shock, all seven women were yanked along with him as he walked, like planets forced to orbit their sun.
"Hey!" Space Ishtar protested, her galaxy cloak flaring with indignation. "Stop moving, you insignificant mortal!"
"Sorry, I'm hungry," Saitama replied without turning around. "Got to make dinner before the sale meat spoils."
And thus began the most chaotic living arrangement in the history of the multiverse.
## Chapter 2: Apartment 303 - New Capacity: Infinite Chaos
Saitama's apartment was not designed for eight people. At twenty-two square meters, it barely accommodated one person comfortably. With seven divine beings now crammed inside, the word "crowded" failed to capture the absurdity of the situation.
"This is unacceptable," Morgan declared, perched atop Saitama's futon like it was a throne. Her elegant gown pooled around her, somehow avoiding contact with the worn fabric. "I ruled an entire fairy realm. I will not be subjected to... is that mold in the corner?"
"Probably," Saitama replied, calmly chopping an onion in his tiny kitchen area. "The rent's cheap."
Tomoe had unsheathed her massive blade and was practicing forms in what little space remained, nearly decapitating U-Olga Marie, who floated near the ceiling to avoid the cramped floor space.
"Could you not swing that thing in here?" Saitama asked, dodging the blade without looking up from his cooking.
"A warrior must maintain her edge," Tomoe replied firmly, though she did slow her movements somewhat. She eyed Saitama curiously. "You move well for a commoner."
"Thanks," he replied, focused on his cutting board.
Castoria was frantically drawing magical diagrams in the air, her staff creating glowing runes that faded almost immediately. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she muttered arcane calculations under her breath.
"This makes no sense," she finally declared, frustration evident in her voice. "The binding spell is using your signature as its power source, but your signature is..." she paused, double-checking her readings, "...infinite? That's impossible."
"Is it?" Saitama asked, genuinely curious as he dumped the chopped onions into a pot.
"Yes, it is!" Castoria insisted. "No mortal has an infinite power signature. Even divine beings have measurable limits!"
ORT stood perfectly still in the corner, her crystalline form reflecting rainbow patterns across the walls. "Subject Saitama's energy readings exceed measurement parameters. Recalibration required," she stated mechanically. "Previous ceiling: Planetary Threat Level. New analysis: Incalculable."
"That sounds complicated," Saitama commented, stirring his pot.
Koyanskaya was going through Saitama's meager belongings, her tails swishing in disappointment. She opened his closet to find multiple identical yellow jumpsuits and frowned deeply.
"Not even a television?" she asked incredulously. "How do you live like this? I've seen prisons with better amenities."
"Don't need much," Saitama shrugged.
Space Ishtar floated cross-legged near the ceiling, arms folded, glaring down at Saitama. Her cosmic cloak had compressed itself to avoid touching the walls, though occasional tendrils reached out to investigate objects before quickly retracting.
"I could obliterate this entire solar system with a thought," she declared haughtily. "Yet I'm bound to... whatever you are. Explain yourself, mortal."
"I'm just a guy who's a hero for fun," Saitama stirred his pot of udon noodles. "Anyone hungry?"
"I will not consume mortal sustenance," U-Olga Marie declared, but her stomach growled loudly, betraying her.
The Alien God looked momentarily embarrassed, then composed herself. "My divine vessel requires occasional nourishment," she amended with as much dignity as possible.
Saitama ladled the simple noodle soup into his one bowl. "You'll have to share or take turns. I only have one bowl and a cup."
The seven divine beings exchanged looks of disbelief.
To everyone's surprise, Tomoe sheathed her sword and approached. "I will partake of your offering, anchor," she said formally. "A warrior must maintain her strength."
She took the bowl, sipped the broth, and her eyes widened slightly. "This is... adequate," she said, which from her seemed high praise indeed.
"Thanks," Saitama said, already preparing another serving.
One by one, each goddess reluctantly tried the simple meal. Even Space Ishtar eventually floated down to accept a serving, though she complained loudly about the "primitive preparation methods."
"On my flagship, nanobots prepare molecular cuisine with perfect flavor resonance," she grumbled between bites. "This is practically barbaric."
"But you're still eating it," Koyanskaya pointed out with a smirk.
"Merely analyzing local sustenance customs," Space Ishtar retorted, but she finished every drop.
As night fell, the reality of their situation became unavoidable.
"Where exactly are we supposed to sleep?" Koyanskaya asked, eyeing the single futon with distaste.
"I have another futon in the closet," Saitama offered, pulling out a dusty spare that had seen better days. "Or the floor's pretty comfortable."
"I am the Alien God," U-Olga Marie declared imperiously. "I do not require sleep. I shall enter a meditation trance to contemplate the destruction of this primitive realm."
Ten minutes later, she was curled up in the corner, snoring softly, her massive horned crown creating scratches on the wall as she shifted.
ORT remained standing in her corner, eyes open but somehow clearly in some kind of rest mode, occasional crystalline pings emanating from her body.
Castoria had created a small magical barrier around herself in another corner, muttering calculations in her sleep. "Dimensional variance... anchor point... impossible readings..." she mumbled.
Koyanskaya had somehow managed to claim the spare futon entirely for herself, her tails spread out like a luxurious blanket. She had produced an eye mask from somewhere and lay in perfect repose, though one ear occasionally twitched.
Morgan and Space Ishtar were engaged in a silent, murderous battle of wills over who would share the main futon with Saitama, small sparks of divine energy crackling between them. Their glares could have incinerated lesser beings.
"You can both have it," Saitama said, grabbing a thin blanket. "I'll sleep over here."
"Unacceptable," Morgan declared. "A queen does not share sleeping arrangements with cosmic rabble."
"This 'rabble' controls the fate of galaxies," Space Ishtar shot back. "You preside over what—a forest glade and some mushroom sprites?"
"Ladies," Saitama interrupted before divine war could break out. "It's just a futon. I really don't mind the floor."
He settled himself against the wall, closed his eyes, and was immediately asleep, leaving the two goddesses staring at him in disbelief.
"How can he...?" Space Ishtar began.
"...sleep so easily?" Morgan finished.
Tomoe, who had been silently observing the whole exchange, took up a position sitting cross-legged by the door, her sword across her lap. "I shall stand guard," she announced to no one in particular. "Sleep well, Saitama-dono."
Her red eyes lingered on his peaceful face for a moment longer than necessary.
And so ended the first night of what would become the most chaotic living arrangement in the history of the multiverse.
## Chapter 3: Morning Rituals and Cosmic Adjustments
Saitama woke to the sound of cosmic warfare.
"I CLAIMED THE BATHROOM FIRST, FAIRY WITCH!"
"THE QUEEN OF THE FAE WAITS FOR NO ONE, VOID HARLOT!"
He opened his eyes to see Space Ishtar and Morgan locked in combat outside his tiny bathroom door, void energy and fairy magic colliding in miniature supernovas that scorched his ceiling. Morgan's elegant gown had somehow remained immaculate despite the night on the futon, while Space Ishtar's cosmic cloak writhed with indignation, tendrils lashing out at the fairy queen.
"Hey," he called, sitting up and stretching. "No fighting before breakfast."
Both goddesses turned to him with murderous glares.
"Tell HER that star goddesses have priority bathroom rights," Space Ishtar demanded, a galaxy swirling in her palm.
"Tell HER that a queen waits for no commoner," Morgan countered, frost forming around her fingertips.
Saitama yawned widely, completely unintimidated. "There's a bathhouse down the street. Much bigger. Enough room for everyone."
The fighting paused as both women considered this information.
"A... communal bathing facility?" Castoria asked, looking up from her magical diagnostics in the corner. The fur trim of her ceremonial dress was slightly askew, and she straightened it absently.
"Yeah, it's pretty nice," Saitama nodded. "Tuesdays are half-price."
"Do these... communal facilities meet basic standards of cleanliness?" Koyanskaya inquired, brushing imaginary dust from her kimono. Her nine tails were meticulously groomed, somehow flawless despite the night in cramped quarters.
"They're clean enough," Saitama shrugged. "Better than here, anyway."
U-Olga Marie, whose impressive horns had left several new gouges in the wall, rose to her full height. "I suppose I could deign to investigate these primitive cleansing rituals," she declared, attempting to maintain her dignity despite a small piece of lint clinging to her fur-lined cape.
Fifteen minutes later, the entire female pantheon was experiencing their first public bathhouse. The other patrons had mysteriously vanished upon their arrival, perhaps sensing the oppressive aura of seven divine beings arguing over bath temperature.
"Too cold," U-Olga Marie complained, dragging one slender finger through the water. "On my homeworld, bathing pools are heated by the cores of captured suns."
"Too warm," countered ORT, whose crystalline body steamed slightly in the water. "Optimal temperature: 12.7 degrees Celsius."
"That's practically ice water," Koyanskaya protested, her tails held high to keep them dry. She had arranged various luxury bath products along the edge of the pool, their origins clearly not of this world.
Tomoe submerged herself completely, emerging with a satisfied grunt. "Acceptable," she declared. "Like the hot springs after battle."
Morgan floated regally in the center, having somehow created a small pocket of water around herself that glowed with a different hue. "I have adjusted my immediate surroundings to proper royal standards," she announced. "The rest of you may suffer as you wish."
Castoria was frantically trying to prevent Space Ishtar's cosmic energy from interacting with the bath water, as small whirlpools of spacetime distortion kept forming around her. "Please contain your void emissions!" she pleaded. "You're creating microfissures in local reality!"
"It's not intentional," Space Ishtar grumbled. "This realm's physics are so restrictive."
Saitama soaked peacefully in the men's section, blissfully alone and quiet for the first time in twenty-four hours. He closed his eyes, enjoying the simple pleasure of hot water and silence.
The peace lasted exactly three minutes before Tomoe kicked down the dividing wall.
"ANCHOR! I CHALLENGE YOU TO COMBAT!" she declared, standing proudly naked except for a small towel, her oni horns gleaming in the steam. Water dripped from her silvery-white hair as she struck a battle pose.
Saitama sank deeper into the water, covering himself modestly. "Can it wait until after my bath?"
"A warrior must seize the moment!" She brandished her fist. "I sense great power in you, despite your unremarkable appearance. Face me!"
The other goddesses peered through the broken wall with varying expressions of curiosity, embarrassment, and predatory interest.
"This should be entertaining," Koyanskaya purred, her eyes gleaming. "The mortal versus the legendary warrior."
"His energy signature remains anomalous," ORT observed clinically. "Outcome projection: uncertain."
"Fine," Saitama sighed, keeping himself submerged. "One punch?"
"Your strongest technique!" Tomoe demanded, assuming a battle stance. "Do not insult me with restraint!"
"I don't think that's a good—"
"DO NOT INSULT ME WITH RESTRAINT!" Tomoe repeated, her red eyes blazing with anticipation. "Show me your true power, anchor!"
Saitama shrugged and flicked her forehead with one finger.
The resulting shockwave emptied half the bathwater and sent Tomoe flying through three walls before she crashed to a stop in the reception area.
Silence fell over the bathhouse.
"Did he just...?" Morgan began.
"With one finger...?" Castoria whispered, her magical calculations suddenly thrown into chaos.
"Fascinating," ORT intoned, recording data.
Then Tomoe's laughter echoed back to them, growing louder as she limped back through the holes her body had created. A trickle of blood ran down her face from where his finger had touched, but her eyes were alight with a joy none of them had seen before.
"MAGNIFICENT!" she roared, a genuine smile transforming her normally stoic features. "At last, a worthy opponent! Again!"
"Maybe later," Saitama said, climbing out of the tub and wrapping a towel around his waist. "I have hero duties today."
All seven goddesses followed him out of the bathhouse (the owner too terrified to even request payment for the damages), their cosmic bindings forcing them to stay within range as he headed back to the apartment.
"What exactly are these 'hero duties'?" Castoria asked, furiously taking notes on a magical tablet she'd conjured. She walked beside Saitama, her staff occasionally emitting sparks of teal energy.
"Monster shows up, I punch it, it dies," Saitama explained. "Pretty straightforward."
"You... kill monsters? For employment?" U-Olga Marie seemed perplexed, her golden eyes narrowing as she floated alongside them.
"It's more of a hobby that pays sometimes," Saitama admitted. "The Hero Association gives rankings and stuff. I'm an A-Class hero."
"Only A-Class?" Koyanskaya chuckled. "With power that sent our oni friend through multiple walls? Their evaluation system must be deeply flawed."
"There was a written test," Saitama said. "I didn't do great on that part."
"Intellectual assessment: suboptimal," ORT noted. "Physical capabilities: immeasurable. Interesting dichotomy."
As they approached his apartment, Saitama's phone buzzed. A hero alert—giant crab monster attacking the shopping district.
"Duty calls," he said, changing direction.
The seven goddesses exchanged looks of varying interest and skepticism, then followed their reluctant anchor toward what would become the most over-killed crab in multiversal history.
## Chapter 4: Crab Battle Royale (Or: Too Many Cooks)
The giant crab monster was having an excellent morning. It had demolished three buildings, flipped several cars, and sent dozens of humans scrambling in terror. Its massive pincers had snipped a bus in half just for the fun of it. As far as monster rampages went, this was a solid 8/10 performance.
Then it spotted a bald man in a yellow jumpsuit walking casually down the street toward it.
"I AM CRAB KAISER!" the monster announced, raising its claws menacingly. "TREMBLE BEFORE—"
"Yeah, yeah," Saitama interrupted with a bored expression. "Can we speed this up? I've got groceries to buy."
The crab monster blinked its stalked eyes in confusion, taken aback by the lack of fear. It was then that it noticed the seven women behind the bald hero. Seven women who radiated such power that even its primitive monster brain registered immediate danger.
"What's this? Brought backup for little old me?" the crab mocked, attempting to sound confident while hiding its sudden apprehension. "Afraid to face me alone?"
"They're not with me," Saitama started to explain, then corrected himself. "Well, they are, but not by choice. It's complicated."
Tomoe stepped forward, her armor gleaming in the morning sun, hand resting on her sword. The small wound on her forehead from Saitama's finger flick had already healed, leaving only a faint mark.
"Allow me to dispatch this creature for you, Saitama-dono," she offered formally. "It shall be an offering to prove my worth as a warrior in your service."
"I can simply erase it from existence," Space Ishtar offered casually, galaxies swirling around her raised hand. Her cosmic cloak extended eagerly toward the crab, sensing potential destruction.
"A primitive solution," Castoria countered, her staff glowing with teal energy. "I can transmute its aggression into productive energy that could power this city for weeks."
"I would rather study its biology," Koyanskaya mused, tails twitching with anticipation. "I could use some new crab-based beauty products. Chitin makes excellent exfoliant."
"ENOUGH!" The crab monster roared, snapping its pincers in frustration at being ignored. "I AM HERE TO FIGHT THE BALD ONE!"
Morgan laughed cruelly, the sound like ice cracking. "The crustacean has a death wish. Amusing."
"I've destroyed civilizations more impressive than this arthropod," U-Olga Marie yawned, examining her perfect nails with boredom.
ORT simply stared, her crystalline head tilting in analysis. "Threat level: negligible. Potential nutritional value to anchor: minimal."
The crab, now thoroughly confused and increasingly concerned, took a hesitant step backward. Its beady eyes darted between the seven divine beings, sensing it had somehow stumbled into something far beyond its monster pay grade.
"Look, maybe we can talk about this—" it began, lowering its claws slightly.
Saitama sighed. "Sorry about them. Let's just get this over with."
He raised his fist, but before he could deliver his signature punch, chaos erupted.
Tomoe charged, her blade gleaming with supernatural fire as she leapt toward the crab's left pincer.
Space Ishtar launched a galaxy-destroying beam from the palm of her hand, the very fabric of reality warping around the concentrated void energy.
Morgan turned the air into swirling fairy poison, the deadly mist shaped like elegant butterflies as it converged on the crab's eyestalks.
U-Olga Marie began unraveling the crab's atomic structure with a casual wave of her finger, golden light picking apart molecules one by one.
Koyanskaya fired some kind of extinction-level bioweapon from her fingertips, her nine tails forming a deadly fan behind her as the crimson energy surged forward.
Castoria attempted to cast a protective spell around the crab (for reasons unclear), her staff creating a dome of teal energy that immediately conflicted with the other attacks.
And ORT simply extended a crystalline spike through space itself, bypassing conventional physics to approach the crab from a dimension it couldn't perceive.
All seven attacks converged simultaneously on the unfortunate crab monster.
The resulting explosion was visible from orbit.
When the smoke cleared, Saitama stood untouched in the center of a crater half a kilometer wide, his expression mildly annoyed. Of the crab monster, there wasn't even molecular residue.
"I think that might have been overkill," he observed, brushing a bit of dust from his shoulder.
The seven goddesses, also unscathed, looked equal parts proud and embarrassed.
"The creature insulted you by existing," Tomoe declared, sheathing her sword with a flourish. "Its elimination was necessary."
"I was merely testing the local physics," Space Ishtar sniffed, turning away to hide what looked suspiciously like excitement on her face.
"The crab was clearly in violation of fairy territorial rights," Morgan stated imperiously, though she couldn't quite suppress a satisfied smile.
"Did anyone get the groceries?" Saitama asked, looking around the devastated shopping district. All the nearby stores had been vaporized in the blast.
Silence fell over the group.
Then, inexplicably, ORT produced a slightly scorched bag of leeks from somewhere within her crystalline form. "Nutritional requirements: secured," she stated flatly, extending the bag toward Saitama.
Saitama's face lit up with the first genuine emotion the goddesses had seen from him. "Hey, thanks! They're even the discount ones!"
ORT's crystalline face remained expressionless, but a faint pink glow emanated from her core. "Efficiency: maximized."
"Since when do you care about his vegetables?" Koyanskaya whispered to ORT, her tails swishing with curiosity.
"Analysis: inconclusive," ORT responded mechanically, but the pink glow intensified slightly.
"Vegetables are important for proper nutrition," Tomoe commented, eyeing the interaction with interest. "A warrior requires balanced sustenance."
"Oh? And since when are you a culinary expert, samurai?" Koyanskaya teased.
Tomoe straightened her shoulders. "I have prepared meals for my lord husband in my previous life. It is a skill befitting a warrior to ensure proper nourishment."
"How domestic," Morgan commented dryly. "Next you'll be offering to wash his jumpsuits."
"If necessary," Tomoe replied seriously, missing the sarcasm entirely.
As they walked home through the devastated district, heroes and emergency personnel arriving to find only a mysterious crater, Saitama turned to his divine entourage.
"So, about the sleeping arrangements," he began awkwardly. "This isn't really going to work long-term."
Seven pairs of eyes locked onto him with varying degrees of interest, annoyance, and calculation.
"We might need a bigger apartment."
## Chapter 5: Home Improvement, Cosmic Style
"This won't work," Saitama said the next morning, surveying his tiny apartment now filled with seven divine beings pretending not to fight over space. Koyanskaya's tails alone took up a quarter of the available floor area. "We need more room."
"Finally, a sensible observation," Morgan declared from her seat atop his refrigerator, the only unoccupied surface left. Her elegant gown somehow remained unwrinkled despite her uncomfortable perch. "I demand a palace befitting my status."
"I was thinking more like a bigger apartment," Saitama clarified, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Allow me," Koyanskaya stepped forward, her business suit somehow immaculate despite spending the night in cramped quarters. She smoothed her platinum-blonde hair and adjusted her fox ears confidently. "Real estate happens to be one of my many specialties."
"Along with extinction events and questionable fashion choices," Space Ishtar muttered, her cosmic cloak pulled tight around her to avoid touching the mold in the corner.
"My fashion is impeccable," Koyanskaya retorted, her slitted eyes narrowing. "And my extinction events are artisanal."
"Ladies," Saitama interrupted what promised to be another divinity-scale argument. "The apartment?"
Koyanskaya ignored the space goddess with a dismissive flick of her tails and focused on Saitama. "Give ## Chapter 5: Home Improvement, Cosmic Style (Continued)
Koyanskaya pulled out a sleek phone that definitely wasn't from Earth technology and began making calls in several languages, some of which appeared to physically hurt Castoria's ears.
"You cannot simply—" Castoria began, wincing as Koyanskaya switched to what sounded like backward Latin mixed with quantum equations.
"Relaxation protocol initiated," Koyanskaya purred, placing a finger to Castoria's lips. "Let a professional handle this."
Exactly one hour later, they stood before a massive penthouse apartment occupying the entire top floor of a luxury building just two blocks away.
"How did you—" Saitama began, staring up at the gleaming structure.
"The previous owner decided to donate it after I explained some... tax benefits," Koyanskaya smiled, her canines glinting in the sunlight. "The paperwork names you as the legal owner."
"Is that legal?" Saitama asked, scratching his head.
"Technically no laws were broken," Koyanskaya assured him, though her tails twitched suspiciously. "At least none that can be proven in court."
The penthouse was enormous—eight bedrooms, a massive central living area with floor-to-ceiling windows, a kitchen that could host a cooking show, and a balcony overlooking the city.
"This is... acceptable," U-Olga Marie conceded, floating through the space. Her massive horns nearly scraped the high ceilings as she examined every corner with critical eyes. "Though it lacks proper sacrificial altars."
"We can add those later," Saitama said absently, not really listening as he marveled at the kitchen's massive refrigerator.
"I shall claim the eastern room for training purposes," Tomoe announced, already testing the floor's resilience by stomping strategically.
"I need the northwestern corner for proper astral alignment," Castoria stated, calculating mystical coordinates with her staff.
"The master bedroom is obviously mine," Morgan declared, drifting toward the largest suite.
"You mean ours," Space Ishtar corrected, cosmic fire flickering in her eyes.
"You mean Saitama's," Koyanskaya interjected with a sly smile. "It is his name on the deed, after all."
All eyes turned to Saitama, who was opening and closing cabinet doors with childlike wonder.
"Huh? Oh, I don't care. Take whichever rooms you want," he replied, pulling out a massive soup pot that could easily feed eight people. "I just need somewhere to sleep."
"You'll take the master suite," Koyanskaya insisted, slinking closer to him. "I'll help you... settle in." Her tails brushed against his arm with deliberate softness.
Tomoe cleared her throat loudly. "As anchor and provider of shelter, Saitama-dono deserves proper accommodations. However," she added, fixing Koyanskaya with a hard stare, "he requires an honor guard. I volunteer for this duty."
"How convenient," Morgan observed dryly. "The warrior wishes to stand watch over our anchor's bedchamber."
"A prudent security measure," Tomoe replied stiffly, though a faint blush touched her cheeks.
"Analysis suggests optimal arrangement includes anchor at center point," ORT stated unexpectedly. "Defensive positioning maximized with divine entities in surrounding chambers."
"I agree with the crystal," Space Ishtar declared, surprising everyone. "Strategic deployment requires central command position."
This kicked off an hour-long negotiation that nearly resulted in the building's destruction three times. Eventually, rooms were assigned with only minimal cosmic threats.
## Chapter 6: Domestic Divinities
Morning arrived with unexpected tranquility. Saitama woke to the smell of something delicious cooking. Following his nose to the kitchen, he found Tomoe wielding cooking utensils with the same precision she handled her sword.
"Ah, Saitama-dono, you are awake." She gestured to a traditional Japanese breakfast spread that could have graced the cover of a culinary magazine. "I have prepared sustenance."
"Wow, thanks," Saitama said, genuinely impressed. "I didn't know you could cook."
"A warrior must master all survival skills," Tomoe stated proudly. "And... I may have conquered several cooking shows on your television last night while you slept."
Saitama sat down and took a bite of grilled fish. His eyes widened. "This is really good."
Tomoe's normally fierce expression softened slightly. "Your approval pleases me."
Before Saitama could respond, Castoria rushed into the kitchen, magical diagrams floating around her. "Emergency! I've detected a growing instability in our binding spell's harmonic frequency!"
Saitama continued eating. "What does that mean?"
"It means," Castoria explained frantically, "that unless we properly attune ourselves to your energy signature, the dimensional feedback could cause localized reality fractures!"
"Is that bad?" Saitama asked between bites.
"BAD?!" Castoria's eyes bulged. "It would be like seven black holes opening inside your apartment!"
"So... no more apartment?" Saitama clarified, finishing his fish.
"No more CITY," Castoria corrected.
"Ah," Saitama nodded. "That would be inconvenient. What do we need to do?"
"We need to harmonize our energies with yours," Castoria explained, calming slightly now that Saitama seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation. "A ritual of sorts."
"More magic circles?" Saitama asked warily.
"Nothing so complex," Castoria assured him. "Simply activities that create resonance between your essence and ours."
"Such as?" Tomoe asked, serving Saitama another portion of rice.
"Shared experiences. Cooperative endeavors. Synchronized activities."
"You mean... hanging out?" Saitama translated.
Castoria blinked. "I... suppose that is one way to describe complex multidimensional energy synchronization, yes."
And so began Operation Divine Harmonization, otherwise known as Seven Goddesses Learn to Do Normal Stuff.
Morgan and Space Ishtar were assigned grocery shopping, with strict instructions not to obliterate anyone who reached for the last carton of eggs at the same time they did.
U-Olga Marie and ORT were tasked with cleaning the penthouse, a concept both found utterly foreign.
Koyanskaya was instructed in proper laundry techniques by a skeptical Castoria, who wasn't entirely convinced the fox wouldn't hide poisonous compounds in the fabric softener.
Saitama, for his part, was taking Tomoe to register at the Hero Association.
"Your combat capabilities would be wasted doing just housework," he explained as they walked. "Might as well get paid for fighting monsters."
Tomoe's eyes gleamed with excitement. "A formal system for battling worthy foes? This future world has some merit after all."
The Hero Association staff were initially skeptical of the horned woman in ancient armor—until she cleaved through their testing machine with a single sword stroke, breaking every record except Saitama's.
"S-Class material right there," whispered one examiner to another as alarms blared and sprinklers activated.
By evening, all seven goddesses had completed their assigned tasks with varying degrees of success and property damage.
To everyone's surprise, the penthouse actually felt like... home.
## Chapter 7: Unexpected Encounters
Three days into their new living arrangement, the inevitable happened. Saitama was in the shower when the bathroom door burst open.
"Saitama-dono!" Tomoe called urgently. "A monster alert has—"
She froze, her warrior's composure momentarily shattered at the sight of Saitama, naked and dripping wet. A moment of silence stretched between them.
"Ah," she finally managed, her face turning as red as her eyes. "My apologies for the intrusion."
Before Saitama could respond, Koyanskaya appeared behind Tomoe, peeking over her shoulder.
"What's the emergency? Oh my," the fox purred, her slitted eyes dilating as she drank in the view. "Now I understand why warriors bathed together in ancient times."
"OUT!" Tomoe roared, physically shoving Koyanskaya backward and slamming the door. She remained inside, however, her back rigidly turned to Saitama.
"Uh, you're still here," Saitama pointed out, reaching for a towel.
"As your appointed combat partner, I must inform you of threat situations," Tomoe stated formally, her voice slightly higher than normal. "There is a Dragon-level threat in the financial district."
"I'll be right out," Saitama said, wrapping the towel around his waist.
Tomoe gave a single, stiff nod and marched out, her armor clanking slightly more than usual.
In the hallway, she found Koyanskaya leaning against the wall, a knowing smirk on her face.
"Not a word," Tomoe growled.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Koyanskaya replied innocently. "Though I must say, our anchor is quite... impressively proportioned for a mortal."
Tomoe's hand went to her sword hilt. "Another word and I remove your tails one by one."
"Such violence," Koyanskaya sighed dramatically. "And here I thought we were becoming friends."
Before Tomoe could retort, the rest of the divine household had assembled, drawn by the commotion.
"What's this about a Dragon-level threat?" Space Ishtar demanded, her cosmic cloak swirling with anticipation.
"Combat?" U-Olga Marie perked up. "Finally, some entertainment in this dreary realm."
"I've calculated the optimal attack formation," Castoria announced, magical diagrams already floating around her.
"Target assessment required," ORT stated, her crystalline form shifting slightly.
Morgan simply yawned. "Must we all participate in exterminating this realm's vermin?"
Saitama emerged from the bathroom, dressed in his familiar yellow jumpsuit. "Ready," he announced.
Seven pairs of divine eyes tracked his every movement.
"Let's go," he said, heading for the door, completely oblivious to the effect he was having on his cosmic housemates.
The Dragon-level threat turned out to be a massive, tentacled creature calling itself "The Kraken Lord of the Financial Seas." It had already demolished several skyscrapers and was currently wrapping its appendages around the city's largest bank.
"MORTALS!" it bellowed upon seeing their approach. "YOUR MONETARY SYSTEM IS—"
It never finished its villain speech. Seven divine attacks converged on it simultaneously, followed by Saitama's casual punch.
The resulting explosion created a new lake in the center of the financial district.
"Overkill," Saitama commented as debris rained down around them. "Again."
"Efficient," ORT countered.
"But unsatisfying," Tomoe complained. "There was no battle, merely execution."
"Perhaps we should establish a rotation system," Castoria suggested diplomatically. "Each of us takes turns with different monsters, rather than all attacking at once."
"Dibs on the next one," Space Ishtar called immediately.
The walk home was interrupted by an unexpected encounter. A tall, blonde cyborg blocked their path, his mechanical arms gleaming in the sunlight.
"Saitama," Genos greeted, then stopped short at the sight of the seven divine beings surrounding his master. "You have... companions."
"Yeah," Saitama replied. "It's a long story. Some magic circle thing."
Genos's eyes scanned each goddess in turn, his sensors overloading slightly as they attempted to quantify the impossible power readings.
"I see," he said, though clearly he didn't. "I was coming to inform you of a sale at the supermarket. Fifty percent off premium beef."
"Really?" Saitama's expression brightened. "That's great news!"
"Who is this mechanical creature?" Koyanskaya asked, circling Genos with predatory interest. "His design is... primitive yet intriguing."
"I am Genos, S-Class hero and disciple of Saitama-sensei," the cyborg replied stiffly.
"Disciple?" Morgan raised an eyebrow. "Our anchor has students?"
"Saitama-sensei is the strongest hero," Genos stated with absolute conviction. "I study his techniques to become stronger."
The goddesses exchanged skeptical glances.
"These ones have not witnessed your true power yet?" Genos asked Saitama.
"Not really," Saitama shrugged. "Haven't needed to go all out."
Tomoe's eyes narrowed. "You've been holding back in our training sessions?"
"Well, yeah," Saitama admitted. "I don't want to hurt anyone."
"Unacceptable!" Tomoe declared. "A warrior must face her opponent's full strength!"
"You really don't want that," Saitama replied seriously.
Something in his tone made even the divine beings pause.
"Interesting," U-Olga Marie murmured, floating closer to study Saitama's face. "The mortal harbors depths yet unexplored."
"Ah, Saitama-san!" a female voice called out. A petite woman with green hair approached, waving cheerfully. "And Genos-san too!"
"Fubuki," Saitama acknowledged. "What are you doing here?"
The Blizzard of Hell stopped short, her confident smile faltering as she registered the seven extraordinary beings surrounding Saitama. Her esper senses screamed danger.
"I... came to invite you to join my group. Again." Her eyes darted nervously between the goddesses. "Are these... friends of yours?"
"We're bound to him by cosmic contract," Space Ishtar explained bluntly. "Permanently."
"Oh," Fubuki blinked. "That's... unexpected."
"Who is this mortal?" Morgan demanded, eyeing Fubuki's outfit with critical interest. "Her fashion sense is almost acceptable."
"Fubuki, B-Class hero," Saitama explained. "She keeps trying to recruit me to her group."
"Recruit... you?" Castoria repeated slowly, her staff glowing slightly brighter. "For what purpose?"
Fubuki sensed the subtle shift in atmosphere—like standing in the eye of seven simultaneous hurricanes. "Just... hero work," she explained quickly. "Strength in numbers, that sort of thing."
"The anchor requires no additional associates," ORT stated with mechanical finality.
"His combat needs are already satisfied," Tomoe added, hand resting meaningfully on her sword hilt.
"And his other needs are similarly attended to," Koyanskaya purred, her tails swishing suggestively.
Fubuki took an instinctive step backward. "I see. Well. Perhaps another time." She turned to leave, then paused. "Saitama-san... are you okay with all this?"
Saitama considered the question, looking around at his divine entourage. "Yeah, I guess. They cook better than I do."
Fubuki nodded slowly. "Right. Good luck with... everything." She departed with one last concerned glance.
"You have many female associates," U-Olga Marie observed as they continued walking. "Curious for one so socially unrefined."
"People just show up," Saitama replied with a shrug. "Like you guys did."
"We did not 'just show up,'" Space Ishtar corrected indignantly. "We were summoned by ancient cosmic forces!"
"Same difference," Saitama said. "Hey, can we hurry? I don't want to miss that beef sale."
## Chapter 8: Divine Jealousy and Cosmic Shopping
The beef sale turned out to be quite an event. News of seven extraordinarily beautiful women accompanying the usually solitary Saitama had spread through the hero community, and now curious onlookers packed the supermarket.
"Why are they staring?" Saitama asked as he examined discount stickers.
"Humans are drawn to divine beauty," Morgan explained, floating slightly above the floor to avoid contact with commoners. "It's only natural."
"Also, we destroyed several city blocks yesterday," Castoria added practically. "People tend to notice that sort of thing."
A brave store clerk approached, offering a tray of samples. "W-would any of you ladies like to try our new premium sausage?"
Before anyone could respond, ORT materialized directly in front of the terrified man. "Nutritional analysis required." She extended a crystalline appendage and absorbed the entire tray of samples.
"Acceptable," she declared after a moment of processing. "Protein content: adequate for anchor's requirements."
The clerk fled.
"You're scaring the locals," Saitama commented, adding discounted beef to his basket.
"They should be scared," U-Olga Marie replied. "I've conquered worlds for lesser offenses than poor customer service."
Their shopping was interrupted by a commotion at the front of the store. A woman with purple hair and an oversized sweater was arguing loudly with security.
"I know he's in here! My big brother sensors never lie!"
Saitama groaned. "Uh oh."
"Big brother?" Tomoe questioned, hand automatically moving to her sword.
"That's Tatsumaki's sister, Fubuki's teammate," Saitama explained quickly. "She's... intense."
As if on cue, the woman spotted them and charged forward, bowling over several shoppers in her excitement.
"BIG BROTHER!" she exclaimed, launching herself at Saitama with arms outstretched.
Seven divine barriers manifested simultaneously, stopping her in mid-air.
"Eh?" Psykos blinked in confusion, suspended in a matrix of fairy magic, void energy, crystalline force fields, alien technology, cosmic barriers, oni wards, and mystical runes.
"The anchor is not your genetic relation," ORT stated flatly.
"Unverified entity: blocked," U-Olga Marie added coldly.
Psykos looked between the seven goddesses, then at Saitama. "Big brother... who are these people?"
"They're... roommates," Saitama explained awkwardly.
"ROOMMATES?!" Psykos's eyes widened dramatically. "You're living with seven women?!"
"It's complicated," Saitama sighed.
"Release your barriers," Tomoe instructed the others. "She appears harmless."
The barriers dissolved, dropping Psykos unceremoniously to the floor. She bounced right back up, undeterred.
"Saitama has never mentioned siblings," Genos noted suspiciously.
"Oh, we're not actually related," Psykos explained cheerfully. "I just adopted him as my big brother because he saved me from an eldritch horror."
"You saved her?" Space Ishtar raised an eyebrow at Saitama.
He shrugged. "Some tentacle monster was causing trouble. One punch, and it was over."
"Fascinating," Koyanskaya purred. "Our anchor has been collecting females even before our arrival."
"It's not like that," Saitama protested.
"What is it like, then?" Morgan asked, a dangerous edge to her voice.
Before Saitama could respond, the supermarket's ceiling exploded inward. A winged figure descended through the debris, green energy crackling around her small form.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SISTER?!" Tatsumaki demanded, her eyes glowing with psychic power.
"Here we go again," Saitama muttered.
"Another one?" Castoria exclaimed, hastily erecting magical shields around the civilians.
Tatsumaki froze as she registered the seven divine beings surrounding Saitama and her sister. Her esper senses, far more developed than Fubuki's, immediately recognized the impossible power levels facing her.
"What... what are you?" she whispered, for once shocked out of her usual aggression.
"We are beyond your comprehension, little psychic," U-Olga Marie replied, floating up to meet Tatsumaki at eye level. "And the anchor is under our protection."
"Anchor?" Tatsumaki's eyes darted to Saitama. "What have you gotten yourself into now, baldy?"
"Nothing," Saitama said defensively. "I was just trying to buy discounted beef."
Tomoe stepped forward, her warrior's instincts recognizing Tatsumaki as the most formidable mortal they'd encountered so far. "Your power is impressive for a human," she acknowledged. "But unnecessary here. There is no threat to your sister."
Tatsumaki's eyes narrowed. "Psykos, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, big sister!" Psykos called cheerfully. "Saitama's new girlfriends are just a little overprotective!"
"They're not my girlfriends," Saitama corrected quickly.
"We're cosmic entities bound to him by an eternal contract," Koyanskaya clarified, her tails fanning out impressively. "Much more significant than mere 'girlfriends.'"
Tatsumaki slowly descended to the ground, her psychic aura dimming but not disappearing. "Bound? Against your will?"
"Initially," Space Ishtar admitted, crossing her arms. "The situation has... evolved."
"Is that so?" Tatsumaki looked between them and Saitama with new interest. "Well, that explains a few things."
"Such as?" Morgan inquired.
"His impossible strength, for one," Tatsumaki replied. "I always sensed something off about him. Normal humans don't shrug off my powers like he does."
"The anchor is far from normal," ORT stated.
"Yeah, I got that much," Tatsumaki said dryly. "So what now? You're all just... living together?"
"Indeed," Castoria confirmed. "We're harmonic-stabilizing our energy signatures to prevent dimensional collapse."
"Right," Tatsumaki nodded slowly, as if this made perfect sense. "Typical Tuesday for baldy."
"Can we finish shopping now?" Saitama asked, holding up his basket. "The beef won't stay on sale forever."
## Chapter 9: Cosmic Bonds Strengthening
Three weeks into the most unusual living arrangement in multiversal history, things had settled into a surprisingly comfortable routine.
Tomoe cooked breakfast each morning, having mastered every cuisine available on cooking shows. Her specialty had become "Victory Pancakes," served after particularly satisfying monster battles.
"The secret is in the rice flour blend," she explained seriously to Saitama one morning as she flipped a perfect golden pancake. "It provides the ideal texture for a warrior's first meal."
Saitama nodded appreciatively, mouth already full of his third helping. Tomoe's stoic expression softened at his obvious enjoyment.
Castoria maintained the penthouse's magical defenses, having warded it against everything from divine intervention to door-to-door salespeople. Her complexion had improved now that she wasn't constantly panicking about dimensional collapse.
"The harmonic resonance has stabilized by 62%," she announced one evening, lowering her staff with a satisfied smile. "We're making excellent progress."
"Does that mean you can leave soon?" Saitama asked.
Seven pairs of eyes turned to him, expressions ranging from hurt to murderous.
"I mean, if you want to," he added hastily.
"The binding remains permanent," ORT stated flatly. "Departure: impossible."
"And undesirable," Koyanskaya added, her tails flicking with annoyance. "Have we been inadequate caretakers, anchor?"
"No, no," Saitama backpedaled. "The cooking's great. And the apartment's nice. I was just checking."
Morgan had claimed the massive bathtub as her "royal waters" and spent hours there daily, emerging with beauty tips that she reluctantly shared with the others.
"The anchor's skin requires exfoliation," she informed Saitama one afternoon, pressing a crystal vial into his hand. "Apply this nightly."
"Uh, thanks," Saitama replied, examining the shimmering liquid inside. "What is it?"
"Fairy dew collected from moonflowers at midnight," Morgan explained as if it were obvious. "It prevents premature aging and ensures youthful vigor."
"Does it work on hair?" Saitama asked hopefully.
Morgan's cool composure cracked slightly. "I... will research alternatives for follicle rejuvenation."
Space Ishtar, to everyone's surprise, had developed an obsession with Earth video games, her godlike reflexes making her unbeatable at fighting games.
"FATALITY!" she crowed, executing a perfect combo move that made the console spark slightly from her cosmic energy. "Tremble before my pixelated might!"
"Button-masher," Saitama commented from where he lounged on the couch beside her.
Space Ishtar turned to him, outraged. "I am executing precisely calculated move sequences!"
"Nah, you're just hitting buttons really fast," Saitama contradicted. "Watch." He took the controller and performed the same combo with casual ease.
Space Ishtar stared at him in disbelief. "But... that's impossible. My cosmic reflexes..."
"It's just a game," Saitama shrugged, handing the controller back.
The void goddess spent the next three days practicing in secret, determined to master every combo.
Koyanskaya had started an online business selling "exclusive interdimensional fashion accessories" that were earning enough to keep the penthouse in luxury.
"Your profit margins are impressive," Genos commented, reviewing her business model during one of his visits. "Though I question the legality of selling 'genuine unicorn-hair scarves.'"
"The unicorns consented," Koyanskaya replied smoothly. "Mostly."
U-Olga Marie had taken up meditation on the balcony, claiming it helped her "resist the urge to enslave humanity" on an hourly basis.
"The temptation diminishes incrementally," she reported to Saitama during one of their now-regular status updates. "Today I only plotted world domination twice."
"Progress," Saitama nodded absently, reading a manga beside her floating form.
ORT continued to be ORT—analyzing, observing, and occasionally presenting Saitama with perfectly selected vegetables that always happened to be on sale.
"Nutritional variety: optimized," she stated one day, depositing a bag of exotic mushrooms before him. "Acquired at 73% discount."
"How do you always find the best sales?" Saitama asked, genuinely impressed.
"Methods: classified," ORT replied, but the pink glow in her core intensified noticeably.
As for Saitama, he continued his hero work, now accompanied by a rotating schedule of divine companions who had collectively raised the Hero Association's monster elimination rate by 300%. The public had dubbed them "Baldy's Babes," a name that made Saitama cringe and the goddesses react with varying degrees of murderous intent.
But beneath the domestic tranquility, something else was developing. Seven immortal beings, each used to absolute power and independence, were experiencing an unfamiliar emotion: attachment.
It started with small things.
Tomoe no longer demanded battles to the death each morning, instead challenging Saitama to "training sessions" that inevitably ended with her cooking his favorite meals.
"Your form has improved," she would say gruffly, hiding her smile as she served him extra portions.
Morgan had stopped referring to Earth as "this pathetic realm" and had begun collecting houseplants, which thrived under her fairy magic. "They remind me of home," she admitted once, when she thought no one was listening.
Space Ishtar, once hellbent on proving her superiority, now spent evenings showing Saitama constellation patterns, her usual arrogance softening into passionate enthusiasm as she described the stars she had once ruled.
"That one," she would say, pointing to a faint cluster barely visible from Earth, "houses civilizations that worship cosmic whales. Their oceans float above their atmosphere."
Koyanskaya's predatory nature remained, but she had stopped testing poisons in the apartment and had taken to leaving small gifts outside Saitama's door—perfectly tailored shirts, specialty teas, rare snacks. "Market research," she claimed when questioned.
U-Olga Marie still plotted world domination, but her plans now somehow always excluded the "anchor's preferred ramen establishments" from destruction. "Tactical oversight," she insisted.
ORT's analytical demeanor rarely changed, but she had developed a habit of positioning herself between Saitama and potential threats, even during casual outings. "Optimal protective configuration," was her only explanation.
Castoria perhaps showed the most obvious change. Her initial panic had transformed into dedicated study of Saitama himself, her magical instruments constantly monitoring his energy signature.
"Fascinating," she would murmur, watching him perform mundane tasks. "The harmonic resonance peaks when you're at ease."
But the true revelation came during an unexpected crisis.
## Chapter 10: The S-Class Summit and a New Arrival
The Hero Association called an emergency meeting of all S-Class heroes after reports of unprecedented monster activity worldwide. Tomoe, now officially recognized as S-Class Rank 7 "Oni Blade," was summoned, and naturally, Saitama and the rest of the divine household accompanied her.
The meeting room fell silent as they entered—seven impossibly beautiful women surrounding the unassuming bald hero in a yellow jumpsuit.
"Who authorized civilians in this meeting?" Metal Knight demanded from his monitor screen.
"They're with me," Tomoe stated simply, taking her designated seat. The others arranged themselves around and behind Saitama, who looked bored already.
"Ah, Caped Baldy," Zombieman acknowledged with a nod. "Moving up in the world, I see."
"The A-Class hero has no business here," Atomic Samurai objected.
Tatsumaki, floating at her usual spot, rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up. They're staying."
"What's the emergency?" Saitama asked, getting to the point.
The Hero Association director cleared his throat nervously, eyes darting between the seven divine women. "We've detected a massive energy signature approaching Earth. Something... unprecedented."
"How unprecedented?" Castoria asked, her staff already glowing as she performed her own readings.
"Our instruments are going haywire," Child Emperor explained, pulling up holographic charts. "Whatever it is, it's about the size of Jupiter but moving like a comet. Trajectory puts it reaching Earth in approximately six hours."
"Apocalypse class threat," Metal Knight concluded. "I recommend immediate evacuation procedures."
"Evacuation to where?" Silverfang asked practically. "There's nowhere on Earth that would be safe if something that size impacts."
The room erupted into tactical discussions and worst-case scenarios.
"Silence," U-Olga Marie commanded, her divine authority cutting through the chaos. "Show us the energy signature pattern."
Child Emperor hesitantly pulled up the readings. The seven goddesses examined it, then exchanged knowing looks.
"Oh no," Space Ishtar groaned.
"Impossible," Morgan whispered.
"Statistical improbability: extreme," ORT confirmed.
"What?" Saitama asked. "You know what it is?"
Castoria turned to him, her expression grave. "It appears another divine entity has been drawn to your signature. The binding spell is... expanding."
"Another one?!" Saitama exclaimed. "The apartment's already full!"
The S-Class heroes stared at them in confusion.
"Excuse me," Genos interjected. "Are you suggesting another being like yourselves is approaching Earth?"
"Precisely," Koyanskaya confirmed. "The anchor's irresistible energy signature has called forth another divine catastrophe." She paused. "No offense, darlings."
"Who is it?" Tomoe demanded. "Another warrior?"
Castoria consulted her magical readings again. "The signature suggests... Beast class. Possibly a Foreigner. Extrauniversal origin."
"Great," Saitama sighed. "More weird roommates."
The S-Class heroes exchanged alarmed glances.
"So, to be clear," Zombieman summarized slowly, "an entity of your caliber is heading to Earth because it's... attracted to Saitama?"
"Correct," U-Olga Marie confirmed regally.
"And you're all here because...?" Atomic Samurai left the question hanging.
"Cosmic binding contract," seven voices replied in unison.
"They can't go more than 100 meters from me," Saitama explained, scratching his head. "Some magic circle thing I stepped in."
The room went silent as the implications sank in.
"Saitama," Silverfang said carefully. "What exactly are your companions?"
"Divine entities from across the multiverse," Castoria answered for him. "Goddesses, conceptual manifestations, cosmic weapons, eldritch abominations—the terminology varies."
"And you're telling us another one is coming?" Metal Bat asked incredulously.
"It appears so," Morgan confirmed with a sigh. "How tiresome."
"Will it be hostile?" Flashy Flash inquired, hand moving to his weapon.
"Unknown," ORT stated. "Previous pattern suggests initial hostility followed by integration."
"Integration?" Child Emperor questioned.
"They start out wanting to kill me, then end up making me breakfast," Saitama clarified.
"It's the harmonic resonance," Castoria explained. "His energy signature has a peculiar calming effect on divine entities."
"So the plan is... what? Wait for it to arrive and hope it doesn't destroy the planet before it calms down?" Metal Knight asked sarcastically.
"I'll punch it if it gets rowdy