Aside from holding onto his hero license, Shinji's rank had finally ticked up. He went from being dead last in C-Class to 351st place. Not a big leap, but it was progress.
Considering the Potato Monster was only a Wolf-level threat, the points from defeating it weren't going to skyrocket him up the leaderboard. That's just how the system worked.
Hero rankings weren't about raw power alone. The Association measured two types of contributions: social and association-based. Social contribution involved the typical stuff, beating monsters, stopping criminals, helping out civilians. Association contribution covered special assignments handed out by the Hero Association itself.
So, even if someone pulled off a flashy takedown, it wouldn't mean much if the threat level was low. The higher the enemy's classification, the more it helped with your rank.
"At least I'm not rock bottom anymore..." Shinji muttered, staring at the registry.
"I saw your name, Shinji. Looks like you don't have a hero alias yet," Mumen Rider commented, glancing over. "Once you've been active for a while, they'll assign you one."
"Yeah, let's just hope it's not something ridiculous." Shinji sighed.
Aliases were a double-edged sword. Technically, they were supposed to help civilians remember heroes better. But some Association officials clearly didn't take their job seriously. That's how someone like Saitama ended up with the name Caped Baldy. It could've been worse though, some poor souls ended up in the unofficial "Victims of Hero Names Club."
Names like [Drunkard], [Perverted Gentleman Doctor], and [Mega Pervert] were forever burned into the registry. And public perception. Those names drew mockery and confusion like flies to garbage.
Since Mumen Rider had a few errands left at the Association, Shinji decided to head home on his own. The sun was already dipping past the horizon, casting a golden glow over Z-City. His stomach let out a sharp growl, reminding him he hadn't eaten all day.
Time to get groceries.
As he reached into his pocket, Shinji found a card tucked into his coat. Must've been another gift from the system. Curious, he asked it mentally.
[Alert: This card contains a balance of 100,000 yen. Please plan your spending wisely, Host!]
A hundred thousand yen wasn't bad. Not luxury-rich, but solid enough for a decent grocery run. That was about $650. He'd make it stretch.
He stopped by the nearest supermarket and browsed the aisles for sales and discounted goods. A couple trays of marked-down beef, a sack of rice, some vegetables, miso, and eggs, nothing fancy, but enough to make a decent dinner.
Once outside, Shinji stood by the automatic doors and glanced around. No one in sight. He activated Kamui with his right eye, the familiar sensation of space distortion enveloping him as he vanished into the Kamui dimension.
Inside, the eerie stillness of the space greeted him, along with a very agitated potato.
The Potato Monster hadn't just been sitting there idly. Apparently, it had tried every escape method it could think of, and all of them had failed. Now it just looked jumpy and exhausted, twitching at shadows and muttering nonsense.
"Oh, right. You're still here."
Shinji blinked, having momentarily forgotten about his captive.
"You!" the monster shouted, scrambling upright, clearly on edge. It tried to lunge forward, aiming to headbutt him with all its might.
Shinji didn't flinch. "I'll give you two options," he said casually. "One, you come with me to the Hero Association and turn yourself in. Two, you stay here and rot like a bitch."
The Potato Monster paused mid-charge, his eyes darting around. He wasn't sure if this guy was bluffing or dead serious.
Of course, Shinji had no plans to keep the creature locked up forever. With both Kamui eyes in his arsenal, his access to the Kamui dimension was nearly absolute. In fact, anyone stuck in here was essentially in his pocket; he could summon or dismiss them at will.
This dimension wasn't just for storage. One of Kamui's most broken features was Shinji's ability to phase through attacks by slipping parts of his body into this space. But that also meant his real body existed inside the Kamui world while doing so, which made him vulnerable if someone ever got in.
Still, that scenario was highly unlikely. He didn't need to rely on imprisonment when elimination was always an option. The monster lived right now only because it was more useful that way.
He was just like Saitama, unwilling to casually kill monsters that hadn't harmed anyone. In the world of One Punch Man, there actually weren't that many scenes showing monsters visibly slaughtering civilians. Maybe the mangaka just didn't want to draw that kind of thing too explicitly.
Either way, Shinji's threat had been purely psychological. And it worked.
The Potato Monster had completely lost his nerve. After trying everything to escape and failing, he truly believed this guy could keep him trapped here forever.
"I... I'll go turn myself in. I don't wanna be stuck in here," the monster muttered, folding almost immediately.
Compared to staying in this dark, eerie, seemingly endless space filled with floating pillars, being locked in the Hero Association's special containment facility sounded like a vacation. At least the monsters there were people you could talk to. This? This was like solitary confinement in another dimension.
Seeing the monster give in so fast, Shinji didn't bother saying more. He warped him straight into the Hero Association's holding facility, leaving behind one very stunned security officer.
Job done, Shinji teleported back home.
Just as he arrived outside his apartment, Saitama happened to be coming up the stairs. They met right in the hallway, catching each other mid-step.
Saitama was holding a little plastic bag with just bean sprouts inside. Probably another discount grab from a corner store. Meanwhile, Shinji had an entire armful of groceries, rice, vegetables, meat, everything for a real meal. The contrast between the two was kind of funny.
Saitama glanced at Shinji's haul with a flash of envy, but he wasn't the type to whine or freeload, and he definitely wasn't going to use force just to get food.
But before the thought could pass, Shinji spoke up casually.
"Aren't you Saitama? I ended up buying too much food today. Want to come over for dinner?"
"Oh… Sure." Saitama replied instantly, not even pretending to hesitate. He smiled with that familiar expression, laid-back, somehow both simple and unfathomably strong.
"I've only got this bag of bean sprouts, though. Hope you don't mind."
"It's fine. I actually like bean sprouts," Shinji said with a shrug.
"Then I'll take you up on that," Saitama replied, already stepping in like he'd been invited a hundred times before.
Shinji dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and rolled up his sleeves.
"Need help with anything?" Saitama asked, glancing over.
"No need. Just have a seat and enjoy some tea."
"Alright." He nodded and settled down in the living room, pouring himself a cup like he was already part of the household.
Shinji moved through the kitchen with smooth precision. Before transmigrating, he'd lived alone and cooked for himself for years, so he wasn't a novice. Now, with the visual clarity and focus granted by the Mangekyō Sharingan, even ordinary tasks felt amplified.
Knife work became art. Seasoning hit perfect ratios. Heat control was instinctive.
Meanwhile, Saitama lounged on the couch, sipping tea and flipping through TV channels. He caught a faint scent from the kitchen and perked up.
"Smells good," he mumbled to himself. "Looks like my new neighbor actually knows how to cook… Though I wonder if he is strong…"
Honestly, when he first heard someone had moved into the building, he was shocked. The whole complex had been abandoned for ages. But maybe this wasn't a bad thing. Maybe fate had finally decided to send him a decent cook to save him from another sad dinner of sautéed bean sprouts. Also, since he is living here, Shinji ought to be a fighter of some sort.