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About Saitama

Last week, tailed her to this dive bar—smelled like piss and regret. She’s there, flirty with some geezer, skirt hiked up, laughin’ loud. I’m thinkin’, “Blimey, she’s got game!” But then—fuck me—she spots me, eyes like daggers. Nearly blew my cover, heart poundin’ like a drum. “War’s an addiction,” Bigelow’d say—chasin’ Ruby’s my fix, mate. Gets me proper riled up when she slips away, vanishin’ like smoke. Angry? Yeah, cos she’s too damn clever!

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But then, the day takes a turn. I’m walking back through the streets, and I see this little kid crying. My heart sinks. I kneel down, asking what’s wrong. He lost his toy. I’m like, “Dude, let’s find it!” We scour the area, and finally, I spot it under a bench. The kid’s face lights up, and I’m like, “See? We’re a team!” I feel like a hero for a sec.

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