Chapter 784: Becoming a Hero Again! The Resurrected Hellish Blizzard
The spatial distortion faded, depositing Ren and his entourage back into the devastated ruins of Z City.
Amidst the apocalyptic rubble, a lone bald man in a yellow jumpsuit stood exactly where they had left him, blinking owlishly at his surroundings.
"Oh. You guys are back," Saitama said, his voice entirely devoid of tension. He ambled over, casually scratching the smooth dome of his head. "Thanks for the save back there, by the way."
Ren simply nodded. Pulling the man out of the spatial void had been nothing more than a casual afterthought.
Saitama craned his neck, scanning the pulverized concrete and twisted metal. "Where'd that spiky alien guy go?"
"He's dead," Ren replied smoothly, stepping forward to clap a hand on the bald hero's shoulder. "The threat is neutralized. It's safe now."
Without waiting for a response, Ren raised his hand and snapped his fingers.
A sharp crack echoed through the wasteland. An invisible, god-like ripple surged outward. The devastation reversed itself in the blink of an eye. Shattered skyscrapers pulled themselves from the dust, reassembling beam by beam. Pulverized asphalt smoothed over. The apocalyptic crater left by Boros's warship vanished, replaced by the pristine, untouched metropolis of Z City.
Even the fallen S-Class heroes—those who had been brutally maimed or outright obliterated by Boros's overwhelming power—gasped as their bodies stitched back together, pulling them from the abyss of death.
But the resurrection wave did not stop with the heroes on the battlefield. It reached someone else, someone who had caught Ren's interest.
Ren turned his attention to the floating esper beside him. "Tatsumaki," he said, his tone casual but piercing. "Did you know that someone you care about very deeply just died in this city?"
"Someone I care about?" Tatsumaki blinked, her emerald aura flickering. Her mind raced, landing on a single, horrifying possibility. "Fubuki?!"
Her green eyes widened in absolute panic. Was Fubuki in Z City?!
"I'll take you to her," Ren offered with a faint, knowing smile. Space warped around them once more, and the group vanished into thin air.
Saitama stared at the empty space. "Oh. They left again."
Internally, the sheer scale of the reality-warping magic had actually surprised him, but his perpetually blank, egg-like face betrayed absolutely nothing.
Heavy metallic footsteps crunched against the newly restored pavement. Genos, his cybernetic body completely repaired by Ren's snap, marched up to Saitama. His mechanical eyes burned with absolute reverence.
"Sensei," the cyborg said, his voice thick with awe. "Did you vanquish the enemy?"
He had already concluded that his master was the only being capable of defeating the alien warlord.
"Nah, it wasn't me, Genos," Saitama replied with a deadpan shrug.
"Don't be ridiculous! How could a B-Class nobody defeat a monster of that caliber? It was obviously King!" a haughty voice sneered nearby.
A crowd of newly resurrected S-Class heroes had already swarmed around King. The tall, scarred man stood in the center of the plaza, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression cast in deep, intimidating shadows.
"As expected of the strongest man on Earth!" one hero gushed. "Not only did he obliterate the alien threat, but he even used some hidden, god-tier ability to restore the entire city and bring us back to life!"
"King, how did you even pull that off?!"
The S-Class heroes chattered incessantly, entirely convinced that King had single-handedly saved the world.
King remained absolutely silent. The deafening thumping of his heart—the legendary King Engine—roared in the ears of the surrounding heroes, cementing their awe. In reality, King wasn't being stoic. He was paralyzed with a fear so absolute that his jaw had locked shut. His muscles were frozen rigid. Just moments ago, he had been entirely convinced he was going to die.
A massive misunderstanding had once again crowned King as the ultimate savior of humanity.
Meanwhile, several blocks away on a quiet street in Z City.
A woman stood perfectly still, staring down at her flawless hands in utter bewilderment. "Did I... just die?"
She had sleek, chin-length black hair and striking, sharp features. Her tall, curvaceous figure was poured into an elegant, form-fitting green cheongsam that accentuated her slender waist and heavy breasts. This was Fubuki—the Hellish Blizzard, Rank 1 of the B-Class heroes, and the undisputed leader of the Blizzard Group.
She was also the younger sister of the Tornado of Terror.
Living her entire life suffocated by the shadow of her sister's monstrous psychic talent had bred a deep-seated inferiority complex within her. Unlike Tatsumaki's solitary, arrogant approach, Fubuki had compensated by building an empire, aggressively recruiting B-Class heroes to form her faction and ruthlessly crushing anyone who refused to fall in line.
Today's agenda had been simple: travel to Z City to intimidate a rising B-Class rookie into joining her group. But out of nowhere, an apocalyptic shockwave had ripped through the city. She remembered unleashing every ounce of her psychic power to shield herself, only for her barriers to shatter like glass. Then, her consciousness had plunged into the crushing darkness of death.
"Did I actually die?" Fubuki muttered, her mind spinning. She wasn't entirely sure if she was truly alive right now.
"Fubuki!!!"
A desperate scream shattered her thoughts. It was her sister's voice, but the sheer, raw panic lacing the tone was entirely foreign.
Fubuki turned around just as Tatsumaki plummeted from the sky. The petite esper slammed into the pavement and immediately grabbed Fubuki's arms, her glowing eyes frantically scanning every inch of her younger sister's body for injuries.
"Sister, what are you doing?" Fubuki asked, shifting uncomfortably under the intense scrutiny.
"You can stop checking her over. My resurrection magic doesn't leave flaws," Ren's smooth voice drifted over. He stood a few paces away, flanked by Vivi and Wu Ren, watching the reunion with mild amusement.
The casual reassurance caused Tatsumaki to freeze completely.
Resurrection? That meant Fubuki had actually died. Here, in Z City.
The realization hit her like a physical blow. During the battle with the alien ship, she had unleashed a massive, indiscriminate psychic storm that leveled the surrounding area. She was the only one who had launched an attack capable of wiping out this sector.
I killed Fubuki...
The thought was a jagged blade twisting in her chest. Beneath her arrogant, abrasive exterior, Tatsumaki possessed an obsessive, overprotective love for her sister. The truth of what she had done struck her like a thunderbolt, suffocating her with agonizing guilt.
Fubuki just stared at her, utterly bewildered. Why did her sister look like her world had just ended? The massive gap in information left them staring at each other in tense silence.
Ren clicked his tongue, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Tsk, tsk. You two clearly need to have a long, overdue heart-to-heart."
With another snap of his fingers, reality shifted. Ren bypassed the ruined streets entirely, teleporting the group directly into the spacious living room of Fubuki's luxury apartment. He tactfully stepped back, giving the psychic sisters the privacy they desperately needed to talk.
Once the details of the alien invasion were laid bare, Fubuki finally understood.
A god-level battle had taken place above Z City, and she had been caught in the crossfire of her sister's overwhelming psychic retaliation. The unstoppable force that had crushed her barriers and snuffed out her life hadn't been an alien—it had been Tatsumaki.
Strangely, Fubuki didn't feel anger at her own death. Instead, a heavy sigh escaped her lips. The sheer, impossible chasm in their power was enough to induce absolute despair.
"I'm sorry, Fubuki... I didn't know you were here," Tatsumaki whispered, her head bowed.
The fearsome Tornado of Terror was gone. Her voice trembled, thick with unshed tears, sounding exactly like a small, terrified child who had made a catastrophic mistake.
Fubuki stared at the trembling girl before her. Seeing her older sister—usually so imperious and untouchable—reduced to such a helpless, guilt-ridden state shattered something inside Fubuki. The bitter, long-held jealousy that had poisoned her heart for years simply evaporated.
A wave of self-mockery washed over her. How ridiculous had she been? She had a sister who possessed god-like power and cared for her deeply enough to break down in tears, yet all Fubuki had ever done was resent her for it.
"Big sister," Fubuki murmured softly.
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Tatsumaki's petite frame, pulling her into a warm embrace. She gently stroked her sister's back, soothing her. "It's not your fault. You didn't know. And look... I'm still alive."
"Fubuki... hic..."
Tatsumaki's remaining composure crumbled. She buried her face in Fubuki's chest and burst into loud, ugly tears. For all her overwhelming pride and arrogance, she was utterly terrified of losing the only family she had left in the world.
It took a long time for the tears to stop. When the two sisters finally emerged from the private bedroom, the heavy tension that had always existed between them was gone, replaced by a quiet solidarity.
In the living room, Ren had made himself entirely at home. He was sprawled comfortably across Fubuki's expensive leather sofa, his eyes closed in relaxed bliss as Wu Ren and Vivi knelt on either side of him, expertly massaging his shoulders and arms.
Tatsumaki and Fubuki approached the sofa. Without a word of hesitation, the two proud psychic sisters bowed deeply at the waist.
"Ren," Tatsumaki said, her voice steady and entirely devoid of its usual haughtiness. "Thank you for saving Fubuki."
"Ren-kun," Fubuki echoed, her tone laced with deep gratitude. "Thank you for granting me a second life."
"I'll accept your thanks," Ren replied lazily. He opened his eyes, leaning back into the cushions. His gaze drifted over them, his eyes narrowing into a sharp, predatory smile. "Now... is there anything else you two need?"
Though the question was directed at both of them, his dark, calculating eyes were locked entirely on Fubuki.
Fubuki's breath caught in her throat. Her heart skipped a frantic beat under the weight of that stare. Beneath Ren's unapologetic, piercing gaze, she felt entirely exposed—as if her clothes, her pride, and all her guarded secrets had been stripped away, leaving her bare and completely at his mercy.
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