Chương 64: Chapter 61: The Spider's Web

The damp, shadowy alleyway in Lower Mistral was practically vibrating with a tense, unbroken silence. Saitama, wearing his incredibly cheap, spiky brown wig, stood opposite the diminutive, dual-colored girl. He kept his hands stuffed lazily into the pockets of his yellow jumpsuit, his flat, dotted eyes staring blankly at her. Neopolitan simply smiled back. Her heterochromia eyes, one pale pink, the other deep brown, sparkled with a calculating, mischievous light.

She rested her pink-and-white parasol elegantly over her shoulder, waiting for him to grasp the gravity of the situation. She waited. And waited.

"Look, lady. If you went through all the trouble of making fake soldiers just to corner me and rob me, you're entirely out of luck," Saitama grumbled, patting his empty pockets to emphasize his point.

"I am completely broke. I don't even have enough Lien to buy a cup of instant noodles. So unless you want a coupon for a grocery store on a different continent, you're wasting your time." Neo's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. She let out a silent, internal sigh. With a dramatic, theatrical flair, she stepped forward and began to communicate through her signature body language. She pointed a delicate, gloved finger directly at Saitama, then pointed to herself.

She mimicked a walking motion with her fingers, and finally, she crossed her arms, puffed out her chest, and struck a rigid, 'tough-guy' pose. Come with me. Be my muscle. It was a flawless, elegant charade. Saitama tilted his head, his face scrunching into a profound grimace of utter confusion.

"Uh... you want us to go... walking?" Saitama guessed, scratching his cheek.

"And then... do aerobics? Are you asking me to go to a dance class with you?" Neo's left eye twitched violently. Her poised, elegant demeanor cracked, her shoulders slumping in sheer exasperation.

"Oh, wait," Saitama murmured, a sudden look of realization crossing his face.

"You haven't said a single word this whole time. You can't speak, can you? Oh, man, that's rough. Sorry about that." He offered a sympathetic nod, completely genuine in his pity.

"But seriously, I don't want to go dancing. I have zero rhythm, and my boots squeak on hardwood floors. See ya." Saitama turned on his heel, preparing to trundle away into the gloom. Neo practically growled in silence. She bolted forward, planting herself directly in his path. Realizing that body language was completely lost on the dense anomaly, she begrudgingly reached into her coat and pulled out her Scroll.

Her thumbs flew across the glass screen with furious speed before she shoved the device directly into Saitama's face. [I need a bodyguard to meet some acquaintances.] Saitama squinted at the glowing text. His brow furrowed into an annoyed, flat line.

"A bodyguard? That sounds like actual work," Saitama complained, waving a dismissive red glove.

"No thanks. I'm already a security consultant back in Vale, and the hours are terrible. Have fun with your friends, though." He side-stepped her, fully intending to leave the weird, silent girl behind. Neo's eyes narrowed into sharp, lethal slits. She stepped in front of him again, her thumbs tapping aggressively against her Scroll before holding it up once more, her expression shifting into a smug, knowing smirk. [I know much about you.] Saitama paused. He looked at the text, then up at her smug face.

A single, slightly impressed eyebrow raised beneath his terrible wig.

"Well, yeah," Saitama stated casually.

"You've been following me around literally all day. You watched me buy a plum. You probably saw me slap those loud biker guys back at that village. It's not really a secret." Neo rolled her eyes. This man was impossible. She typed one final, definitive sentence, intending to convey that she knew he was the legendary "Hero of Vale" who had shattered the Wyvern, obliterated the Grimm hordes, and possessed ungodly power. She shoved the screen toward him. [I know EVERYTHING you did.] Saitama stared at the glowing white text. For three seconds, nothing happened. Then, the color completely and utterly drained from Saitama's face, leaving him in a stark, heavily-shaded monochrome. His dotted eyes expanded into massive, hyper-detailed circles of pure, unadulterated terror. Thick, vertical blue lines of existential dread pulsed across his forehead, and his jaw unhinged into a silent scream. She knows. Saitama's mind spiraled into a vortex of absolute, catastrophic panic.

She knows I didn't pay for that fifteen-Lien bowl of pork ramen. She knows I accidentally committed a dine-and-dash! I'm a criminal! She's going to turn me in to the noodle-cops! Instantly, his imagination supplied a terrifying vision of Headmistress Glynda Goodwitch and General James Ironwood standing over him in a dark interrogation room, beating a mountain of paperwork with a riding crop while screaming about international felonies. Saitama fell directly to his knees on the cobblestones.

He grabbed Neo's coat sleeves, tears of comical, desperate panic welling in his eyes.

"Please! I'm begging you, don't tell the authorities!" Saitama whimpered, his voice cracking three octaves as he shook her slightly.

"It was an accident! The guy stole a turkey leg and I got distracted! I swear I'll go back and pay for the noodles when I figure out how to get back to Vale! The scary crop-lady is going to absolutely murder me if I get a criminal record! I'll do whatever you want!" Neo froze. She stared down at the groveling, terrified god clinging to her coat. She was completely baffled. Noodles? The crop-lady? But Neo was nothing if not an opportunist.

It took her brilliant, criminal mind exactly two seconds to piece together a completely incorrect, yet highly advantageous assumption. He ran away from Vale without permission. Neo realized, a wicked, triumphant grin spreading across her face. The authorities are looking for him, and he's terrified of being dragged back. Neo gently patted Saitama's shoulder with a condescending, patronizing smile. She picked up her Scroll and typed a single word, showing it to him. [Deal.] Saitama slumped forward in relief, letting out a massive, wheezing sigh.

"Oh, thank goodness. You're a lifesaver, weird umbrella girl." Neo turned on her heel, popping her pink-and-white parasol open with a cheerful snap. She began to strut elegantly out of the alleyway, her hips swaying with a victorious, confident bounce. She had just successfully blackmailed the strongest entity on Remnant. Behind her, Saitama slowly pushed himself off the dirt. He trudged sluggishly after her, his shoulders slumped to his waist.

"Man, how do I keep getting into these situations?" Saitama grumbled, his voice a flat drone of pure misery.

"I just wanted to find a cheap hotel. Now I'm doing bodyguard gigs for a mute girl. My karma is completely ruined."

The deep, shadowy underbelly of Lower Mistral was a twisted labyrinth of suspended walkways and neon-lit storefronts built directly into the cavernous rock. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings. Neo led Saitama toward a large, surprisingly well-maintained wooden building that stood out from the surrounding slums. Warm, amber light spilled from the frosted windows, and a beautifully carved wooden sign above the door read: The Spider's Web.

"Whoa, hold on," Saitama stopped a few feet from the entrance, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"That looks like a restaurant. I told you, I am literally at zero Lien. I can't even afford a glass of water right now. If we go in there, I am not covering your tab." Neo didn't even look back. She offered a dismissive, elegant wave over her shoulder and pushed the heavy wooden doors open, strutting inside as if she owned the place.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" Saitama sighed heavily, adjusting his itchy wig before shuffling reluctantly after her. The interior of the establishment was a massive, high-end tavern, thick with the scent of roasted meat, expensive cigar smoke, and hushed, dangerous conversations. The patrons scattered at the tables were a rough, hardened lot, their eyes immediately darting toward the dual-colored girl walking confidently down the center aisle.

Neo stopped in front of the largest, most opulent booth in the back of the room. Sitting behind the polished mahogany table was Lil' Miss Malachite. The leader of the Spider syndicate was a large, imposing woman adorned in luxurious fabrics, a heavy fur boa draped over her shoulders. She held a long, smoking cigarholder in one hand, her sharp, calculating eyes immediately locking onto the intruder. Standing on either side of the syndicate boss were her twin daughters, Melanie and Miltia.

They had abandoned Junior Xiong's club in Vale immediately following the horrific events of the Breach, retreating back to the safety of their mother's empire in Mistral. Melanie stood casually in her pristine white dress, the lethal, bladed heels strapped to her boots gleaming in the dim light. Miltia mirrored her sister in a striking red dress, the razor-sharp mechanical claws gauntlets resting on her forearms.

"Well, well. If it isn't the little stray straying far from home," Lil' Miss Malachite drawled, taking a slow drag from her cigar. Her voice was smooth, dripping with honeyed condescension. Neo offered a perfect, mocking curtsy. Saitama stepped up behind her, looking around the fancy tavern.

"Wow. Nice place. Your acquaintances must have a lot of money. Do you think they have free breadsticks?" Lil' Miss narrowed her eyes, glancing at the bald man in the terrible brown wig and cheap yellow suit. He radiated an aura of absolute, unmistakable mediocrity.

"And you brought a pet. How quaint." The crime boss's gaze shifted back to Neo, specifically lingering on the pristine bowler hat resting atop her head. A genuine, complex shadow crossed Lil' Miss's features.

"I see the hat. So... Torchwick finally ran out of luck, did he?" Lil' Miss murmured, tapping a long ash from her cigar onto the floor.

"My condolences, Trivia. Roman was my best protégé back in the day. Before his ego grew larger than his brains, of course." Neo's smile faltered, her pink and brown eyes flashing with a sudden, dark intensity.

"But let's not pretend we are grieving friends," Lil' Miss continued, her tone hardening into cold, business-like steel.

"You and Roman burned my bridges in Vale. You foiled my syndicate's plans, undermined my operatives, and cost me a fortune to claim that city for yourselves. You are exceptionally bold to walk into my web after all that." Melanie scoffed, shifting her weight onto her bladed heels.

"She's just desperate, Mom. Look at her. Crawling back to the Spiders because she has nowhere else to go." Miltia flexed her red-clawed gauntlets, a cruel smirk on her lips.

"Should we show her the door?" Neo completely ignored the twins. She calmly reached into her coat, pulling out her Scroll. She didn't type a request. She simply slid the device across the polished mahogany table. Displayed on the screen was a singular, high-resolution photograph of Cinder Fall. Lil' Miss Malachite leaned forward, peering at the image. She let out a loud, sudden, raucous burst of laughter, the smoke from her cigar billowing into the air.

"You want my network to find Cinder Fall? The woman who orchestrated the Fall of Beacon?" Lil' Miss chuckled, shaking her head.

"Oh, Trivia, you are delightfully suicidal. Why on Remnant would I risk my syndicate's safety to help you track down a woman who broke the world? And you bring..." Lil' Miss gestured lazily toward Saitama with her cigar holder. Saitama was currently using his pinky finger to aggressively dig a piece of wax out of his ear, completely zoned out.

"... this? What is that, a lost tourist? A backup dancer?" Lil' Miss sneered.

"My answer is no. Take your pathetic little bodyguard and get out of my tavern before I have my girls remove your legs." Neo didn't flinch. Her smile returned, cold and razor-sharp. She slowly turned her head, her heterochromia eyes scanning the room. Saitama finally stopped picking his ear, looking around as well.

"Hey, uh... umbrella girl? Why is everyone staring at us?" The tavern was no longer bustling with casual conversation. Every single patron in the room had stood up from their tables. The men and women rolled up their sleeves, revealing identical, intricate spiderweb tattoos inked into their necks and forearms. Heavy dust-rifles were cocked. Machetes and brass knuckles were drawn. It wasn't a tavern. The entire building was filled exclusively with Spider syndicate operatives.

"Oh, look," Saitama noted flatly, crossing his arms.

"They're your friends. And they're incredibly rude." Neo took a graceful half-step back, positioning herself entirely behind Saitama. She offered him a sweet, encouraging smile, lightly patting him on the back of his yellow jumpsuit. You're up, meat-shield.

"Are you serious right now?" Saitama groaned, his shoulders slumping as the syndicate members began to close in from all sides.

"I told you I hate doing bodyguard stuff. I'm not even getting paid for this."

"Kill them both," Lil' Miss ordered coldly, leaning back in her booth.

"With pleasure!" Melanie shrieked, launching herself over the table with terrifying speed. She flipped in mid-air, bringing her lethally sharp, bladed heels down in a vicious arc aimed directly at Saitama's skull. Saitama sighed. He casually raised his right hand, extending a single, red-gloved pinky finger. CLINK. Melanie's high-velocity kick connected with the tip of his pinky. The heavy, reinforced steel blade of her heel shattered instantly.

Her entire downward momentum was halted so abruptly that the shockwave rippled through her own bones.

"Huh?!" Melanie gasped, her eyes widening in sheer disbelief as she hung suspended in mid-air, balanced on his finger.

"Those shoes seem really dangerous for walking," Saitama commented mildly. With a microscopic flick of his pinky, Saitama sent Melanie rocketing backward. She flew across the tavern like a cannonball, crashing violently into the liquor shelves behind the bar and collapsing into a pile of shattered glass and unconsciousness.

"Melanie!" Miltia screamed. The twin in red lunged forward, her mechanical claws whirring as she delivered a blistering flurry of red-hot slashes aimed at Saitama's chest. Saitama didn't even take a step back. He lazily swayed his upper torso left, then right, bobbing his head as the lethal claws missed him by mere millimeters.

"Too slow," Saitama mumbled. He raised his hand and delivered a light, effortless karate chop to the back of Miltia's neck as she overextended a strike. THWACK. Miltia's eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she crumpled face-first onto the wooden floorboards, instantly out cold. The remaining thirty Spider operatives roared, charging the bald man from all directions, swinging bats, firing dust-rounds, and lunging with knives. Saitama blurred. It wasn't a fight.

It was a localized hurricane of mild inconvenience. Smack. Thud. Wham. Crash. Saitama moved through the tavern like a ghost, delivering casual, open-handed slaps and gentle pushes. Operatives were launched through tables, embedded into the ceiling, and tossed effortlessly out the front windows. The heavy-caliber gunfire simply bounced off his yellow suit, the bullets flattening against his chest before he lightly tapped the shooters on the forehead, sending them spinning into unconsciousness.

In exactly five seconds, the deafening roar of the ambush was replaced by absolute, pin-drop silence. The entire Spider syndicate, dozens of highly trained, lethal underworld enforcers, were scattered across the tavern floor in groaning, broken heaps. Neo stood in the exact same spot, her parasol resting over her shoulder, her smile wider and more smug than ever. Saitama stood in the center of the devastation, aggressively scratching his head.

"Man, this wig is so incredibly itchy," Saitama complained loudly, his voice echoing in the silent room. With an annoyed grunt, he reached up, pulling the cheap, spiky brown wig completely off his head and tossing it onto the floor. The dim tavern lights caught the flawless, blindingly smooth surface of his perfectly bald head. Sitting in her opulent booth, Lil' Miss Malachite's cigar slipped from her trembling fingers, landing on her fur boa with a quiet sizzle.

All the color drained from the crime boss's face, leaving her a sickly, terrifying shade of pale. Her sharp eyes darted from the bright yellow suit, to the red boots, to the white cape, and finally, to the gleaming bald head. The pieces slammed together in her mind with the force of a falling anvil. The bright yellow suit... the absolute, reality-breaking kinetic power... the bald head...

"You..." Lil' Miss whispered, her voice cracking in pure, unadulterated terror as she pressed herself flat against the back of her booth.

"You're... you're him. The anomaly. The Hero of Vale." Saitama turned his blank, dotted eyes toward the terrified syndicate leader.

"Hero of Vale? Look, lady, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just a guy who's broke and hungry. Tell your friends to stop jumping people while they're trying to talk." Lil' Miss Malachite, the undisputed queen of the Mistral underworld, was trembling so violently her teeth rattled. She looked at Neo, who was standing behind the god-like entity, offering a sweet, mocking little wave. She brought the monster of Vale to my doorstep. Lil' Miss realized in absolute horror. She actually tamed the beast.

Neo elegantly stepped forward. She picked up her Scroll from the table, tapping the screen once to highlight Cinder Fall's photograph, and pushed it toward Lil' Miss again. Lil' Miss swallowed hard, completely surrendering.

"Y-Yes," Lil' Miss stammered, her voice shaking as she stared at Saitama's blank face.

"Yes, of course, Trivia. The Spider syndicate will put every available resource into locating Cinder Fall. We will find her for you. Immediately." Neo's smile radiated absolute victory. She typed one final, rapid sentence onto her Scroll and turned the screen around. We will also be requiring your finest VIP accommodations. Free of charge, of course. Lil' Miss nodded frantically.

"Yes! The penthouse suites upstairs! They are yours! Stay as long as you like, please, just... just call off your monster!"

"Monster?" Saitama frowned, crossing his arms indignantly.

"Rude." But before he could complain further, the first part of the sentence registered in his brain. Saitama's eyes widened, the dark, annoyed expression instantly vanishing, replaced by a massive, glittering sparkle of pure joy.

"Wait," Saitama gasped, turning to look at Neo with absolute, profound reverence.

"Free room? Like... no rent? Again?!" Neo offered a charming, innocent nod, gesturing gracefully toward the staircase leading to the luxury suites. Saitama's face broke into a wide, dopey grin. The terror of the "noodle-cops" and the annoyance of the fight entirely melted away. He picked up his crumpled bag of plums, looking at the silent girl with a sudden, overwhelming wave of respect.

"You know, umbrella girl," Saitama said, his voice filled with heroic, burning passion as he marched happily toward the stairs.

"You might be weird, and your friends are incredibly aggressive, but anyone who can negotiate free rent is a genius in my book! Let's go!" Neo watched him trundle up the stairs, a silent, genuine giggle shaking her shoulders. He was an absolute, hopeless idiot. But he was her idiot now.