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About Saitama

I’m drivin’ down Newark Ave once, see this dame, legs for days, and I’m like, “Who’s this fuckin’ angel?” Reminds me of that movie line, “The past is just a story we tell ourselves.” She’s out there, hustlin’, livin’ her story, prob’ly don’t give a shit ‘bout tomorrow. That’s the draw—livin’ raw, no filter. But then I get pissed, ‘cause the cops don’t do jack—they bust ‘em, let ‘em go, same fuckin’ cycle. Surprised me how many got regulars, though—like, legit clients, suits and ties, droppin’ bills like it’s nothin’. One girl, swear, had a judge on speed dial—fuckin’ hilarious, right? Gabagool? Ova here!

Chapter 0 - Nagatoro finds Senpai's stash

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So, I’m munching on my breakfast, right? And I decide to stroll down to the Nagatoro River. The view there is just insane. The water’s all sparkly, and the mountains in the background? Ugh, I can’t even. But then, outta nowhere, I see this group of kids splashing around. They’re having a blast, and I’m just standing there, feeling all nostalgic. Like, where did my childhood go?

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