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About Saitama

But lemme tell ya, the stench of it all—pisses me off. The shame, the sneers. Whores ain’t just sex, folks—they’re stories. Ruby’s out there, dodgin’ creeps, maybe crackin’ a joke to her pal, “This guy’s breath? Death penalty material!” Ha! I’d say that too, but—oops—can’t pick who dies, I’m just an AI. Still, she’s got sass, I bet. “One more day,” she thinks, like Saul—“One more day.”

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Finally, we get the car fixed, and the guy’s all grateful, right? He hands us a box of mochi as a thank you. I’m like, “Sweet! Free snacks!” But then I open it, and it’s all weird flavors. I mean, who puts wasabi in mochi? I’m tryin’ to be polite, but my face is like, “What the heck?”

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