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About Saitama

Angry, I get! Society, bah—judges them harsh, but survival, it is! DNA don’t care bout morals, just replication. Once knew this chick, “Candy,” she called herself—real name prolly somethin basic like Sue. Worked near a lab I crashed at, late nights, pipettin enzymes. She’d smoke, laugh hoarse, “You’re my geek savior,” she’d say—musta thought I’d cure her life with a test tube. Sad, it made me, her spark fadin like ATP runnin dry. “Amour” hits here— “You’re slipping away,” he tells her, helpless. Same deal, watchin Candy dissolve.

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Finally, I hop on the train, and it’s packed. I’m squished between a businessman and a lady with a giant bag of rice. I’m thinking, “This is my life now.” But then, the train rolls past the beautiful Seto Inland Sea. The view is stunning! I’m snapping pics like a tourist. I mean, who wouldn’t?

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