Under the pressure of their fists, darkness itself trembled.
Sparks of energy—white for one, blood-red for the other—crackled with each shallow breath they took.
Garou stood, body whipped beyond recognition. His right arm hung uselessly, a mess of bone and tendons. Blood oozed from a dozen wounds, pooling at his feet and staining the invisible ground beneath him.
Yet his eyes still burned. Unbroken. Defiant.
At a distance, Saitama stood motionless. His white cape, or what remained of it, fluttered in the turbulent energy. His face was still unreadable, the very embodiment of calm amidst the storm.
Garou coughed violently, blood splattering from his lips.
"Heh... you're something else," he talked, voice hoarse, throat torn raw from screams that had long since faded into the void.
Saitama simply blinked, his head tilting slightly.
Garou's muscles tensed, tendons and fibers screaming under the strain. His broken body shifted into a crooked fighting stance—half instinct, half sheer force of will.
"BUT I'M NOT DONE YET!" Garou roared.
He burst forward.
The void shook violently with the shockwave of his movement.
His fist, burning with hellish red energy, crashed towards Saitama's face.
For a split second, it looked like he might actually land the blow.
CRACK!
Saitama raised a hand, catching Garou's punch with two fingers.
The force of the clash detonated outward like a supernova. Waves of crushing air expanded for thousands of miles, ripping apart the very fabric of the dimension they fought in. Black fissures tore open in the distance, revealing swirling chaos beneath.
Garou's feet dug into the ground as he poured every ounce of strength he had left into his fist.
His body screamed. His vision blurred.
But he pushed.
He pushed.
Saitama, still gripping Garou's fist with ease, started to talk, "Surrender already, you're half-dead!"
Garou's eyes widened, veins bulging in his forehead. With a scream that tore the heavens, he spun, twisting his entire body into a devastating kick aimed at Saitama's head.
BAM!
The kick connected.
The sound of a meteor impact echoed through the void. Entire chunks of broken space disintegrated under the sheer force.
Saitama backed down half an inch.
Garou panted heavily, his heart hammering against his ribs. His body was breaking down, muscles tearing with every movement.
But he still didn't stop.
He charged again—punch after punch, kick after kick—a relentless barrage of attacks fueled by desperation and pride.
The pride that he took in his splendid martial arts.
Each strike showed the wonders of martial arts, blending every fighting style Garou had ever witnessed, mastered, and corrupted. His blows flowed like a storm, a river of death designed to overwhelm and destroy.
However, his efforts remained futile as Saitama blocked every single one effortlessly.
A step here.
A tilt of the head there.
A lazy flick of the wrist.
Simple movements done at an inhuman speed dodged them all. None of Garou's attacks landed cleanly.
But still, he continued. His eyes showed hope—that it would connect. At least once.
A spinning back fist laced with kinetic energy.
A double-kick that bent space.
A pressure point jab aimed at Saitama's exposed neck.
All dodged or deflected with insulting ease.
Garou roared in fury, driving a punch laced with all his killing intent straight at Saitama's heart.
Saitama caught his wrist mid-flight. "Isn't this enough, Garou?"
The impact created a localized black hole for a fraction of a second before collapsing entirely.
Saitama sighed.
Garou's body trembled. His legs gave out, but he forced himself upright again. His spirit burned brighter than ever, even as his body crumbled.
Suddenly, red energy erupted from his wounds.
His entire body was now wreathed in blood-red flames of Qi.
His hair stood on end, his teeth clenched so hard that blood leaked from his gums. His very existence screamed defiance at the universe.
Garou pushed off the invisible ground, accelerating faster than ever before.
He blurred—once, twice, thrice—each afterimage throwing a different devastating martial arts technique.
An elbow strike infused with bone-shattering shockwaves.
A knee attack designed to rupture organs.
A shoulder charge that could level mountains.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The void exploded with every clash, detonating in great shockwaves that flattened galaxies. Stars that had long since died flared back into existence only to be snuffed out by the aftershocks of their battle.
Finally, Garou spun midair, gathering all of his remaining energy into one final blow—a compressed sphere of pure destruction coiled around his fist.
"This is it!" he howled. "Everything I am, everything I've fought for!"
He slammed it toward Saitama with a roar that cracked the heavens.
Saitama caught the punch. Not with both hands. Just one. Two fingers and a thumb.
The sphere screeched and collapsed, releasing a pulse of crimson light that rippled outwards like the birth cry of a new star.
Garou gasped, his eyes wide with horror. The energy sphere slowly dissipated and crumbled into dust.
Garou stumbled backward, chest heaving.
"No..." he gasped.
Saitama looked at him, almost regretful.
"You fought well," he said, voice low. "But this is it. I won't be able to kill you until you surrender and atone for your sins."
Garou refused to fall.
His body which was ruined beyond saving, shook violently as he pushed himself upright one last time. His vision had narrowed to a pinpoint. His senses were fading. But his will—the core of who he was—remained unbroken.
He gathered what microscopic speck of strength he had left.
With a cry that split the galaxy itself, Garou threw one final punch.
However, it was not fast. It was not strong. But it was everything he had.
Saitama stood there. Silent. Watching.
The punch tapped against his chest.
A small thud. Barely enough to move air.
Garou collapsed. Face-first.
His blood pooled beneath him, his limbs sprawled at unnatural angles. His breathing was shallow. His heart faltered.
The Hero Hunter—who had once dared to challenge gods—lay broken and defeated.
Saitama stepped forward, looking down at the fallen warrior.
For a long moment, there was only silence. But then, Garou twitched.
From the pool of blood, Garou's hand made its way forward, clawing at the ground, trying to rise. His body no longer obeyed him, but his spirit screamed at him to get up.
He lifted his head to deal just one more blow to Saitama.
"Not...yet..." he whispered, a smile ghosting across his battered face.
Saitama crouched down, meeting Garou at eye level.
"You're crazy, you know that?" he said softly.
Garou chuckled weakly. "Maybe... but monsters don't die easy."
As the words left his mouth, ancient symbols, barely visible to mortal eyes, flickered beneath his broken body. Symbols of a power never seen before, waiting to be triggered by the sheer indomitable will of a soul refusing death.
But for now—the world stood still.
Garou's consciousness slipped away, his smile frozen on his lips. Saitama watched him for a moment longer before raising his clenched fist to finish him off.
His struggles, his ambitions, and more importantly—his regrets.
Suddenly, something unseen began to stir. A disturbance in space, a blinding light that made its way out of nowhere and grasped Saitama from all four sides, leaving no room out.
TO BE CONTINUED...