Chapter Text
“So... you’re the Devil of Z-City... I did not expect you to look like this.”
Genos was being honest. The young bald man in front of him was nothing like what he had expected.
When the Hero Association told him that the Devil of Z-City had been spotted out beyond the ruins of what he called home, the cyborg had the privilege of being the only S-Class heroes close enough to try and prevent casualties in the area.
It was a well-known fact that the Devil couldn’t be stopped. He was classified as a God-level threat, after all, a ticking nuclear bomb the size of a planet just waiting to go off, but even so, even though countless heroes had lost their lives at his hands - or singular hand, if the rumors were true - despite this, the Association still saw it more important to try and clear civilians from his path. It was the least they could do for the city against a man who was the embodiment of death itself.
Though Genos had just recently signed on with the Hero Association, following suspicious hints down a winding trail to the cyborg that had destroyed his family, he got near perfect scores in both categories and shot right to the bottom of S-Class. Which meant that God-level threats were not deemed beyond his skill level.
Which brought him face to face with the Devil himself today.
“Yeah, yeah,” the murderer in front of him finally spoke. His voice was also surprising and unexpected. It wasn’t deep or threatening or foreboding at all, nothing like what his name implied nor anything like the rumors. It was a tad on the high-pitched side, actually, and expressionless. Incredibly expressionless. “I’m bald, I’m ugly, I’m a piece of shit. What the hell else have you got to say before I punch you?”
Genos grit his teeth and took a step back, bracing himself for any sudden movements. He knew a threat like that, no matter how casually it was said, was not to be taken lightly. “I wasn’t going to say those things,” he called to the criminal standing several meters away. “I was wondering why you’re dressed in such bright colors, almost as if you were a hero.”
The cyborg was indeed curious about the Devil’s colorful state of dress, never having seen him in real life before, but sure as hell not curious enough to be questioning him about it like this as if they were old friends having a chat.
No, Genos was just trying to stall. The announcement about the God-level threat was sweeping through Z-City currently, and probably the surrounding cities as well. All Genos could do was give the civilians time to find safe cover before the criminal made another move.
“Oh, this old thing?” the Devil pulled at the front of his bright yellow costume with a red glove. “I got it a while ago when I was still an aspiring hero-wannabee. I guess I still wear it to this day just to mock all you heroes. To give heroes a bad look when they show me on TV, ya know?” he jeered, giving Genos a humorless smirk.
Feeling rage start to bubble inside him at the scum’s casual disregard for heroes, for people dedicated to saving lives and stopping threats, the people who should have been there when his hometown was destroyed, Genos held out a glowing palm, more than ready to fire.
“I don’t know why you commit the horrible crimes that you do, nor do I care,” he growled. “But I, Demon Cyborg, Class S, Rank-”
“Blah, blah, blaaah,” the Devil interrupted, crudely lifting a finger to pick wax from his ear. “You think I give a shit who you are? You realize that I can destroy you in one punch, right? They didn’t brief you on this before they sent you out??” He whistled, crossing his arms and rocking back on his heels. “Wow, that’s mean of them.”
Genos scowled, lowering his palm for now. Though he wanted nothing more than to hurt the man in front of him, that reminder of the fatal threat at hand left him wary. “No. I am well aware of your abilities, Devil of Z-City.”
He saw the man’s eyebrows rise, arms still crossed. “So you’re aware that you should get the hell out of here before I change my mind about you, then.”
“I came here to prevent you from proceeding. And I don’t back down from a threat.”
The Devil grinned, another humorless gesture. It looked empty. Lifeless. And it fell almost as soon as it showed. “That’s a great attitude! Let’s make this quick, though. I still need to buy food for dinner.”
The criminal took a step towards him, starting to approach, and Genos planted his feet and held out both palms now, determined not to let him pass.
“Stop! Or I’ll be forced to take action!”
The man did stop at his words, but he looked at up Genos in irritation. “Hey. You heard what I just said. I need to buy food for dinner. Move or die.”
Genos didn’t move an inch. “I cannot allow you to go into town.”
He watched the Devil’s eyes narrow, a frown tugging at his lips, and braced himself.
This was a God-level threat. It was so easy to forget that when looking at the average, unassuming man in front of him, but the odds were not in his favor here. It was likely that he was going to die. Probability about the situation said so, and he couldn’t argue with those odds.
As the man in yellow and red with that flowing white cape continued to slowly approach, getting closer and closer, Genos channeled the energy in his core, mentally and physically ready to self-destruct.
There was no chance of winning. He was going to die here, but he would not die without a fight.
When the man was close enough within his blast radius, having traveled about half-way from where he started, Genos thought his final words, feeling all the energy in his body flowing back to his core and overloading it.
‘Forgive me... Doctor.’
However, suddenly, in a flash of yellow, the Devil of Z-City disappeared, entirely gone from sight in the blink of an eye.
Genos scanned the area in front of him in panic, then spun quickly on his heel, his self-destruct sequence put on hold from the sheer surprise of having lost his target so quickly.
‘Behind?!’
Looking behind him, all he saw was a single red fist flying his way. He froze, vaguely realizing that he was staring death right in the face. Time seemed to crawl to a near halt. He couldn’t even manage to start his self-destruct sequence again.
Then, right in front of his nose, right before wiping him off the face of the Earth, the fist stopped dead in its tracks, the force of the punch blowing his hair back and thundering past his ears.
It completely took his breath away.
He could barely register that gloved hand coming down and grabbing the front of his shirt, yanking him forward. The next thing he knew, he was staring into a pair of brown eyes.
“What was your name again? Demon-something?” the Devil asked. Genos didn’t answer. All noise rang in his ears. “Hah. That’s kinda funny, huh? I’m a Devil, and you’re a Demon. A match made in Hell.”
Genos struggled to catch his breath without making it too noticeable, his eyes still wide, his core still pulsing with unspent energy.
The Devil stopped smiling and gazed at him blankly. “Demon. How old are you?”
Genos opened his mouth to speak, but his voice came out as a mere whisper. “...19.”
“So young,” the criminal murmured in thought. “Ya know, I was 22 when I first started training. I’m 25 now.”
The mention of his age reminded the cyborg of something the Devil had said earlier, something about him training to be a hero himself in the past, before he became a murderer. Though he wasn’t in any position to be getting on the other’s bad side, Genos couldn’t hold back the disgusted glare that came to his face.
“So, you dedicated that much time to being a hero...” he snarled out. “And this is what you do with all that strength you’ve earned?! Kill people and cause destruction? With no regard for other’s lives?!”
That hand on his shirt rose up to grip tightly around his neck, squeezing hard. “Shut your mouth,” the man muttered, barely sounding offended at all. If anything, he sounded tired. Apathetic. Like he’d been down this road a thousand times. “You don’t know a damn thing about me. Nobody in this town does.”
With that said, the hand promptly slipped from his throat, and the Devil let him go.
“Go home, 19 year old.”
“What?!” Genos blurted out, darting back to put some distance between them, but the man was already turning and walking towards the city, his white cape getting caught by his movement and the wind and billowing out behind him.
He almost looked majestic in that moment. Almost angelic. But Genos knew that he was anything but. Genos knew he was only a devil in a human’s body.
“By the way, you’re being taken advantage of by the people who order heroes around,” the criminal mentioned over his shoulder. “A word of advice: just drop out and do your own thing. You might actually start going places.”
“Wait!” Genos called, clenching his fists at his sides. “I’m not letting you go without a fight!”
“I just gave you one,” the man muttered, not bothering to look back. “Try to pay better attention next time.”
Genos could only stand and glare as he watched the Devil of Z-City go.
It was fine. He had done his job. He had stalled the threat long enough for the alert to go out and people to get to a safe place if they were outside and in the criminal’s path.
It was frustrating, watching a murderer slip right by him, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it right now. At his level, he was not nearly strong enough to fight this threat, especially alone with no other S-Class heroes to back him up. Attempting to provoke the man further would have certainly meant sudden death.
A single glance behind him, to the path of pure destruction left by the shock waves of the Devil’s halted punch, only served to confirm this.
A few days later, Genos was crouched on the empty highways above the Devil’s abandoned apartment building, having watched him for quite some time and discovered his permanent home base.
The cyborg was absolutely sure he had the right place; he’d seen the Devil return carrying groceries bags, seen him step out briefly to take his trash out, and seen him out on his balcony, hanging up clothes. This was definitely the place where the Devil housed all of his evil operations, probably where he kept the secret to his God-level strength as well.
After experiencing that punch right before his face, Genos had made it his goal to get to the bottom of exactly why the criminal was able to do such things. The man had already admitted that he had trained to get that way, so there must be something he did or used or ingested during those 3 years of training that made him so strong.
And Genos was going to find out what that was, even if it might kill him.
Looking at the apartment building now, it was almost impossible to miss. It was surrounded by rubble and trash, obviously uncleaned and unloved by the rest of the city. Rude graffiti was sprayed on the building and the sidewalks, faded messages that read things like, “Fuck off already!, MURDERER, this city hates you!!!”, and countless others.
What wasn’t spray painted was mostly broken and crumbling. Several patches of sidewalk were crumbling or missing completely, and chunks had been taken out of the lower half of the apartment complex.
Why the murderer would choose to live in this fragmented ghost town was beyond Genos, but he didn’t have time to question that right now. Not when he was standing in front of the man’s door and trying to breath as calmly as possible.
He had thought about this long and hard. This was not some split second decision. Earlier in the week, when they’d first met face to face, the Devil of Z-City hadn’t killed him. Genos didn’t know why, but the man who was rumored to kill anyone who got in his way had miraculously spared his life for some reason.
Now he was here to not only learn why he had been spared, but perhaps also gain some knowledge on how to defeat the criminal and harness the secret to his incredible strength in the process. To Genos, by coming here there was nothing to lose and everything to gain.
Taking one final deep breath and letting it out slowly, he raised a hand to knock on the door, but stopped, instead opening his mouth to speak loudly.
“Devil of Z-City!”
His voice seemed to echo around abandoned block, and, after a few seconds, he heard something moving inside, something thudding behind the door.
“Eh? Who would come all the way out here..?” he heard mumbled as heavy footsteps approached. “Kay, someone really wants to die today...”
The door was promptly thrown wide open, and he found himself staring at the Devil of Z-City, who was wearing a baggy hoodie and pair of gray sweatpants.
Genos ran his eyes over the man quickly.
This was not the attire of someone who was a God-level murderer... Perhaps something to do with the source of his strength? Or disguised clothes to throw people off his trail if he was spotted?
“Who the- Oh. It’s you.”
“Yes.” Genos stood up straight, looking down at the man that was just slightly shorter than him. Seeing him up this close, he only looked even more... average. Even so, Genos actively reminded himself to keep his guard up around him. “You remember me.”
“Well, yeah,” the Devil said, also running his eyes over the other and looking mildly confused. “...Why the hell are you at my house? Fuck off.”
He took a step back inside and started to slam the door shut, but Genos shot a hand out and caught the edge, trying to hold it open. Seeing this, the Devil paused and glared.
“Please, wait a moment!” Genos rushed to say, struggling with the door even though the other man seemed to be spending no effort at all to hold it in place. His strength was truly unmatched. “I would like to talk with you!”
The Devil’s glare faltered, but he didn’t move. “Oh. Huh?”
“Please,” Genos begged, “Allow me to speak with you. I didn’t come here as a hero. I came here as myself.”
“Ugh,” the young bald man muttered, glancing over his shoulder back into his apartment. “Make it quick then. God...”
Genos steeled himself, readying his speech.
“Devil of Z-City. You possess the greatest strength I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life. You could very well be the strongest man on Earth, perhaps the strongest man to have ever lived. Yet you did not use that strength against me in our encounter to take my life. I would like to know why.”
The Devil of Z-City looked largely uninterested while he was talking, looking down at a stray piece of styrofoam near his door. Then he glanced back up and shrugged.
“Dunno. Didn’t feel like it, I guess.”
Genos scowled at that answer, both unsatisfied and at a loss for words.
“Was that all? Get lost now. And don’t ever let me catch you near my house again. You won’t be so lucky next time.”
He started to close the door, but, once again, Genos resisted.
“Wait! May I please step inside?”
The man looked at him blankly, as if couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Yeah. Absolutely not.”
“I won’t intrude.”
“You’re intruding right now. See ya, 19 year old.”
“I..” Genos struggled with what he could possibly say to make the other listen. “I’m not leaving until I get a proper conversation with you!” With that stated, he removed his hand from the door and glared at the criminal, planting his feet and refusing to budge.
The Devil gave him a once-over before simply closing the door right in his face.
Genos didn’t move.
About fifteen minutes later, he heard soft footsteps approach the front door again, but they soon stopped and no other noise was heard. He suspected the Devil was looking out of his peephole.
There was a “Wow...” muttered in annoyance, and then the footsteps retreated.
Thirty minutes later, Genos was still staring at the front of the door, motionless and occupying his time with thoughts. His eyes ran blankly over the surface of the door while he brainstormed the possible causes of the criminal’s God-level strength.
These thoughts were interrupted however, when footsteps approached yet again then stopped, the criminal looking through his peephole again. This time, Genos heard a heavy sigh, and the door knob started to turn.
He straightened his back, fully prepared.
“I am... this close...” the Devil muttered lowly, opening the door to reveal his right arm pulled back, his hand clenched into a fist, and a slight glare on his face. “I will fucking murder you.”
Genos looked right into his eyes and didn’t move, not flinching in the face of his enemy.
Seeing the cyborg’s stoic reaction, the man’s eyebrows furrowed and his fist slowly lowered. He looked annoyed, but confused as well, almost as if he was annoyed because of his own confusion. Because he couldn’t figure the other out right now.
“Kid, what the hell do you want from me?” he finally asked flat-out, deflating and leaning against the door frame. “It’s been almost an hour...”
“I would like to come inside and have a proper conversation with you,” Genos repeated sternly.
Those sharp brown eyes stared into his own for a few quiet moments before drifting away as the man sighed heavily once again.
The criminal chewed on his lip before turning around, leaving the door open behind him. “Ten minutes.”
Genos nodded firmly at his back, cautiously taking a step inside the Devil’s apartment.
The place was a terrible mess.
The door closest to the entrance was closed, so he couldn’t tell what kind of room was beyond it, but the rest of the apartment spoke for itself. There were old food boxes piled up by the kitchen entrance, a foul smell coming from them. Wrappers and plastic bags covered the counter space, a pile of dirty dishes unwashed in the sink.
Stepping beyond that, he saw that the living room floor was scattered with clothing, and the small wooden table was cluttered with empty bottles, unwashed cups, and wadded-up napkins. The trashcan by the dusty flat screen TV was full and overflowing, surrounded by stray trash that couldn’t fit inside.
With the lights switched off and the curtains closed, everything was bathed in dull gray light.
Genos took it all in quietly, trying not to look too taken aback for fear of offending his host. He spied that colorful yellow and red costume again hanging up in an open closet.
The God-level criminal bent over and tossed a pair of jeans by the table to the corner of the room, and then went to the other side of the table and sat down. Genos lowered himself into the spot that had been cleared, politely folding his legs under him.
Slouching, leaning over to brace his head on his palm and eye him warily, the criminal spoke up first. “So. What do you want?”
“Devil of Z-City...”
The man’s eyes narrowed, a glare twitching onto his face, but Genos continued.
“I would like to begin training under you.”
The glare deepened.
“...No way in hell.”
“Please,” Genos beseeched, placing his hands on his knees and bowing forward. “Consider my request.”
Tired eyes now staring down at his messy table, the Devil sat still for several minutes without saying a word.
Genos didn’t try and speak up again. If the Devil was in deep thought, seriously considering his proposal, the cyborg didn’t want to interrupt that and risk souring his decision.
This was his only shot. If he could work secretly with the No. 1 criminal in the world behind the Hero Association’s back, he could not only gain god-like strength from him, but also take the man out and rid the world of his murderous ways forever, without the other heroes having to risk and possibly lose their lives. It was a perfect plan, and although it left him betraying both sides, both the Association and the Devil, he saw no other way the murderer could be stopped.
He also had to admit that he was being a bit selfish in the process. That incredible level of strength would certainly help him complete his life’s mission rather easily...
“Okay, leave.”
The cyborg’s eyes shot up, focusing on the Devil again, who was now looking at him with air of exhaustion.
“What?”
The man pushed himself to his feet and put his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie. “Leave. Your ten minutes are up.”
Ah. Genos understood now. The man had sat around quietly not because he’d been thinking, but because he’d been waiting for ten minutes to pass so he would be able to kick Genos out.
Genos was frustrated and angry at this realization, but he took a deep breath and tried not to let it get to him too much. Looks like he’d just have to try again another day.
“I see,” he said politely, standing and letting the other lead him back to the front door. “Very well. I will be back tomorrow then.”
“What?” the Devil exclaimed, turning back to scowl at him. “Fuck no you won’t.”
Stepping around him, Genos lingered just inside the door frame, having a feeling that, as soon as he stepped out, the other was going to close the door for good. “I will be. I hope you will welcome me back inside to talk more.”
As he bowed, he heard the man mutter, “Come back tomorrow and you’re dead...”
Convinced this meeting had gone the best it possibly could have, considering exactly who he’d been meeting with, Genos stepped outside, turning to look back at the Devil holding the door open and gazing out at him. The filthy apartment room behind him was still shaded in gray.
“Farewell for now, Devil of Z-City.”
That familiar glare of annoyance appeared on the man’s face, and his hand gave a twitch from its place on the edge of the door. “Stop calling me that... Just call me Saitama.”
“Then farewell, Devil Saitama.”
“Drop the devil.”
Genos turned to walk away. “I will when you give me a reason to.”
The door was slammed shut behind him without another word.