Chapter 130: An Unknown Call (Patreon)

But fate never gives anyone enough time to prepare — disaster always strikes without warning.

Barely half a month had passed since the last robot attack on that small town. A new robot massacre had already broken out.

This time, Alex wasn't there to stop it in time. The target was another remote, isolated small town — far from anywhere, with a thin police presence and almost no defense to speak of.

After the brutal attack, the town lay in ruins, countless dead and wounded, cries of agony echoing everywhere.

Every officer stationed in town had fought bravely to the last — and every one of them had died a hero's death. Not a single one survived.

The robot responsible for the massacre, once it had finished the slaughter and utterly crushed the town's defenses, triggered its self-destruct sequence.

The violent explosion tore the machine's body apart completely, its wreckage dissolving into nothing — no chips, no parts, no data trail left behind.

Clean, thorough, without a trace — leaving nothing behind but a field of ruin and endless grief.

The moment the massacre came to light, it swept across all of America, shaking the entire nation.

Countless citizens donated and prayed for the fallen townspeople, mourning the innocent lives lost.

At the same time, a tidal wave of fury swept across the internet, with everyone demanding harsh punishment for whoever was behind it, and calling for measures to stop such a tragedy from ever happening again. The local police department held an emergency press conference right away, publicly pledging to get results.

They vowed to mobilize every officer and exhaust every method to hunt down the mastermind and bring the culprit to justice.

But everyone knew, deep down, that the investigation would most likely go nowhere.

The enemy operated with meticulous precision and ruthless efficiency, leaving behind not a single clue — cracking this case would be next to impossible.

The moment Alex learned of the massacre, his mood sank completely.

Over the past half month, he had kept a close watch on the robot threat and the investigation into the three top talents.

Yet after a full half month of round-the-clock searching, the intelligence department still hadn't turned up a single useful lead.

The perpetrator seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth, hidden in the shadows, ready to strike again at any moment.

This latest brutal massacre was a hard slap to the face of America's own government.

The nation's entire apparatus kicked into high gear at once.

Every major intelligence agency and law enforcement body coordinated the search — pulling nationwide surveillance footage, combing through persons of interest, screening tech companies, hunting for any scrap of evidence from every possible angle.

To calm a public teetering on the edge of panic and steady the country's unsettled mood, the government decided to release core information on the Heavy Power Armor ahead of schedule, showing the whole of society just how far national defense capabilities had come.

A massive official press conference was hastily organized and broadcast live across the entire internet.

At the event, the standard-issue Heavy Power Armor was unveiled one piece at a time, with performance tests and live combat demonstrations running one after another.

Its formidable defenses, explosive bursts of power, and clean, efficient combat style left viewers across the internet stunned.

When the public learned that an ordinary person wearing this armor could achieve Tiger Level combat strength, the entire internet erupted overnight. Disbelieving discussion and astonished exclamations flooded every major social platform.

The fear and gloom left by the earlier robot massacre thinned considerably, and public confidence began to climb back up, if only a little.

For the first time, everyone could see real hope of humanity standing against the unknown threat.

Alex flipped through the public-opinion report Ashley had put together overnight after the press conference, and the tension in his chest eased a little.

"At last, something to show the people,"

he murmured, a note of relief in his voice.

Beside him, Starlight was still shifting her hips ever so slightly, a hint of a pout in her voice.

"Seriously, can't you focus for once, at a time like this?"

Alex set his phone down and reached up to steady her slender, supple waist, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"Well, Ashley suddenly sent me a report — I thought they'd found a lead on the culprit."

He glanced over — Maeve and Mosquito Girl had already given out, sunk into a deep sleep, their breathing long and steady.

"Besides, you're about done for too, aren't you."

Starlight bit her lip, stubbornly refusing to admit defeat.

"I don't care." "I'm going to wear you out."

For all her defiant words, her body was already worn thin, her movements slowing without her even noticing.

Alex watched her put on a brave front, a soft, fond smile tugging at his lips.

With a soft gasp from Starlight, he gently laid her down.

Before long, the once wide-awake Starlight had drifted completely into sleep as well.

In the quiet room, everyone slept peacefully — only Alex remained wide awake, without a trace of fatigue.

He leaned back on the sofa, lit a cigarette, and savored a rare moment of peace.

Wisps of smoke curled slowly upward, the room quiet and relaxed.

Just then, the private phone beside him buzzed, breaking the stillness.

Alex glanced down — an entirely unfamiliar number lit up the screen.

His private number was locked down at the highest clearance level — barely anyone knew it, and it was far beyond the reach of ordinary citizens or marketers. Scam calls and spam calls simply couldn't get through on this line.

Alex arched an eyebrow, swiped his finger across the screen, and picked up.

On the other end came a young, tense voice — a boy's, clearly nervous and uneasy.

"H-hello." "Is this... Mr. Homelander?"

The familiar voice instantly stirred a memory in Alex.

He recognized it at once — the boy who'd survived the earlier town massacre.

Back then, with the boy's family destroyed and him left utterly alone, Alex had felt for him and given him his personal contact number.

"I remember you," Alex said, his tone softening at once, genuine concern in his voice.

"Did you manage to take care of everything back home?"

That single gentle question shattered the boy's careful composure instantly.

On the other end, the boy's voice caught, thick with suppressed emotion. "It's... it's all taken care of." Alex spoke gently, his voice patient and soothing.

"No rush, take your time. Has something come up?"

The boy took a deep breath, forcing down the grief and hatred churning inside him, and spoke slowly, each word resolute. "I saw the news."

"Another town got attacked. More innocent people died."

"I want to become a superhero."

"I want to avenge my parents. And I want to protect other ordinary people like me, so this never happens again."

Even through the phone, Alex could feel the bone-deep hatred and obsession behind the boy's words.

It was the raw agony of a shattered family, the shadow of watching loved ones die, the fury and grief with nowhere to go. "You want to become a superhero?"

Alex paused for a moment, his tone turning to gentle persuasion.

"You're still young. Right now, what you should be doing is studying, going to school, growing up properly."

"You shouldn't let hatred drag you into a battlefield full of killing and danger this early."

"Leave the matter of revenge to us, to the official authorities — you don't have to carry that weight alone."

The boy was even a little younger than Cate.

At such a tender age, he should have been growing up without a care in the world — instead he had to face death, killing, and hatred head-on. It was simply too cruel. On the other end, the boy shook his head furiously, his voice thick with tears but unshakably firm.

"Mr. Homelander, I know I'm still young, that there's a lot I can't do."

"But I really can't let it go."

"Every day, the moment I close my eyes, all I see is my parents dying."

"That despair, that terror — I'll never forget it as long as I live."

"Every waking moment, I think about revenge — about ending this evil with my own hands."

"You're the only one who can give me that chance now. If it means I can avenge them and protect others, I'll pay any price — I can endure anything!"

The words rang with raw sincerity, carrying the boy's purest obsession and grief, striking straight at the heart.

Alex fell silent for a moment, then slowly spoke, granting the boy's request.

"Since your mind's made up, then I'll give you that chance."

"But remember this — being a superhero was never some glamorous title, never just fighting monsters and saving people."

"Becoming a hero takes systematic training, brutal discipline, endless perseverance — and it means shouldering responsibilities and risks most people could never bear. Nothing about it can be taken for granted."

The boy's voice lit up at once, brimming with wild joy and resolve.

"I understand! I understand it all!"

"I'll train hard, I promise — I won't let your trust go to waste!"

Alex's tone stayed level as he laid out clear instructions.

"Then come to New York."

"Once you get to New York, call this number again to reach me."

"Yes, sir, I'll remember!" the boy answered quickly, his voice full of hope.

Alex thought for a moment, then added a considerate question. "Do you have money for the trip?" There was a sudden silence on the other end.

After several seconds, the boy answered in a small voice, thick with shame and embarrassment. "No." With his family gone and everything lost, he was flat broke — nowhere near enough for the trip to New York.

Alex's tone stayed easy, without a trace of disdain, as he made the arrangement gently.

"Give me your address. I'll send someone to pick you up and arrange the whole trip."

To him, it was the smallest of gestures, barely worth a thought.

Since fate had put this obsessed, pitiable boy in his path, he didn't mind lending a hand.

The kindness cost him nothing at all, yet it might rewrite the entire course of a boy's life.

Alex settled the whole matter with one easy call to Ashley.

With every tedious detail now taken care of, all that was left for him was to sit back and wait for the boy to arrive on his own.

Once the boy's affairs were fully settled, Alex already had a new plan in mind — a trip to Japan.

He'd received word some time ago that Bang and Atomic Samurai, top-ranked powerhouses on the S-Class Hero list, had officially surfaced somewhere within Japan.

Taking the opportunity to go there in person would let him see the true strength and bearing of these two legendary heroes with his own eyes.

Beyond that, he also wanted to look into whether Japan was harboring any other strange, dangerous Mysterious Beings.

There was still one question that had lingered in Alex's mind all this time, one he'd never been able to answer for certain.

Namely — the twenty-six cities laid out in the original One Punch Man world's setting: in this now-merged, real world, by what rule, by what boundaries, were they actually divided?

If he could map out the exact borders and jurisdictions of these twenty-six cities, he could get ahead of the curve — preempting or even resolving a great many hidden threats and crises still lurking unnoticed in the dark.

That would be an enormous help going forward, in keeping the bigger picture under control and stabilizing world order.

Of course, Alex also harbored a private hope of his own.

If the jurisdictions of these twenty-six cities turned out to be confined entirely within the island nation of Japan, that would be the best possible outcome for him.

In that case, he could simply let Japan develop on its own, letting all manner of Mysterious Beings and human powerhouses fight it out amongst themselves — a natural, gu-cultivation-style survival of the fittest.

Even now, having become Homelander, the man at the very top holding the reins of power — strip away that title, and deep down, he still felt not the slightest goodwill toward the Japanese.

The old rifts and prejudices ran too deep to ever really dissolve.

Never mind letting Mysterious Beings loose to teach reckless Japanese people a lesson — even if he stepped in and did it himself, he wouldn't feel the slightest twinge of conscience.

Once his mind was made up, Alex decided he wouldn't make the trip alone.

He'd simply bring everyone close to him along, treating it as a short cross-border getaway.

"We'll just call it a vacation,"

Alex murmured under his breath, eyes lowered, his tone easy and unhurried — and just like that, every detail of the Japan trip was settled.

Night fell quietly, its heavy dark settling over the whole city as the lights came on, the evening calm and still.

Alex returned once more to his tightly guarded private research facility, and there, he saw the battle-worn boy again.

Compared to their brief, hurried first meeting, the boy had changed dramatically in the span of just a few days.

He'd visibly thinned out, his once-even cheeks now sunken, his jawline sharper and harder, every trace of boyish spirit stripped from him.

His whole face was pale and haggard, carrying the exhaustion of someone worn down by long, unrelenting strain, and the air around him hung low and desolate.

And yet his eyes alone showed not the slightest sign of defeat.

Those eyes were dark and bright, clear and sharp, as though a flame burned deep within them that would never go out — filled with an unyielding stubbornness, an obsession that refused to break.

It was the faint, tenacious light of someone who had carried a blood debt through absolute despair and still refused to bow to fate.

Alex studied the light in the boy's eyes in silence, then gave a calm, small nod.

That extraordinary state of mind alone was proof enough that every promise the boy had made him wasn't the least bit false or half-hearted.

Without an oath sworn with everything on the line, a resolve carried through certain death and back — a conviction beyond what any ordinary person could bear — there was no way he could have that look, that state of being. "Come here."

Alex sat straight-backed behind his broad black desk, his voice level and calm, and beckoned gently to the boy standing before him.

At his words, the boy reined in the emotions churning inside him at once, and strode forward with steady steps, his bearing respectful.