I do not own this franchise. And sorry for this long...backstory...thing. Almost seems like a different story, due to the pov change. I kept listening to 'Calling your heroes' by AmaLee when writing this, I really suggest listening to it; such a very beautiful song.
Act 002
Part I
.❀. Scars .❀.
When he loves, he loves with a fire that destroys everything it touches. It only causes pain...as well as destruction.
He can never afford to feel again.
.❀.
The screams are relentless. And by the time they stop, all that is left is heavy breathing, as well as the crackling of a fire in the hearth.
A mother looks down at her child, her eyes shining with tears. Many women- nurses ranging from old to young, run about the room. Heating up the fire, bringing her tea to soothe the pain.
But she only has eyes for him. Only for her son.
His eyes are black like coals. Skin soft like petals, and hair a tuft of ash. He isn't screaming anymore. Just looking up at his mother, expression curious as his eyes focus sleepily on her and stay locked on her face.
And as she stares into them, she isn't sure if she will be able to let him go.
He lifts his fingers towards her, the touch of his fingers on her chin soft and warm.
He steals her heart right there and then.
"What will you name him." A nurse murmurs, mouth grim as she lifts a cold rag and dabs the sweat rolling down the woman's skin.
There is silence. But only for a moment. For the first time since her labor ended, the woman looks away from her sons face.
"It will be...Saitama."
"Do you know how long I've been waiting for you." These words are spoken coldly.
Worser yet, they are spoken quietly.
Like the silence before a storm, dread spreads throughout the room. The few servants who had been there before she was summoned begin to shuffle out, none meeting her eyes and even fewer looking back.
She is left staring at her husband as he gazes away from her out of his office window, overlooking the glowing city as the sun falls. When the door is pulled shut and they are alone, her husband turns his head and looks at her.
His eyes are black.
"I repeat, do you know how long I've been waiting for you." His tone is even colder than before.
All she can do is hold her hands before her, trying to block out the pain of standing so soon after giving birth.
"Your son was born today."
She changes the subject with conviction, though she stands without a hint of strength emanating from her beyond the stoic gleam in her eye.
She knows however that she will lose this battle. She always does in the end.
"I'm aware of this. This doesn't excuse your tardiness. I was expecting you at the meeting today." Her husbands voice is annoyed now, eyebrows furrowed as he leans over his desk.
"I would reason that staying back was the best decision I could have made." She murmurs. "I would have only shamed you if I went to that gathering in my state."
She knows she is right. And she knows that he is aware of this as well. He turns to face her fully, his eyes as black as coals. Only unlike his newborn sons, they aren't shining with innocence and curiosity.
In fact, there is no light at all in his gaze.
She is struck by them despite herself. And without warning, she remembers the day they fell in love like it was only yesterday. The wind howling, rain falling, and a smiling face through the haze of so much gray and loneliness. She remembered being indifferent to him for so many years. Seeing him as just another body that her parents had wanted her to impress. Just another meaningless name.
And then he had been there for her when she was broken. He had held her hand through the storm. He had called her name when she falling. She had never loved anyone as much as then.
But he had changed. When he finally broke- she couldn't be there for him like he had been for her. So he changed. There were no more warm smiles. No more bringing her coffee as they watched the sunrise.
This man wasn't her husband anymore. In fact, 'husband' was just his title, just like being his wife was hers. The only thing she could thank him for was giving her something to cherish now that she had lost him.
'I miss the man I love.' She thinks softly, her eyes staring into his from across the darkened room. 'Where has he gone?'
And as if hearing her silent query, her husband stands up fully and gestures to the door. He is no longer looking at her.
"Leave me." He says, eyes cast away. She see's a broken man again when she looks at him now. And because of that, she is still.
When he notices his wife has not moved, the man walks around his desk. Dimming sunlight shines over him, causing his shadow to ominously fall over her.
"Leave." He repeats, eyes blazing like fire.
And for the first time in many years, she can see light inside the blackness of his gaze.
But it is not the light she wishes to see. This one...is full of pain.
She cannot bear to look any longer. And so she obeys him. She leaves swiftly; the door closing with a thud behind her.
She does not cry.
Even as she crumbles to the floor.
Her husband does not call for her again. Nor does he call for his son.
She knows even without overhearing the servants murmuring, that her husband has not announced her sons birth to the public.
She wonders if he ever will. Such things can never be hidden forever. And her growing absence from the board meetings will surely cause confusion.
It does not concern her much now that she thinks of it. She has already abandoned her duties as a wife, and now focuses solely on being a mother.
And now that she has confined herself within the walls of her home, she wonders when she will ever be free of this tiresome game.
When her husband leaves for work that morning, she knows that will be the last time she see's him for a long time.
She pities him more than she can bear to admit.
As her son speaks for the first time, she is both stunned and happy.
"Huroh." He mumbles, smiling goofily as his mother plays a game of pretend with him.
In one hand she holds a pirate figure complete with an eyepatch and a hooked sword, and in the other she holds a figure of a man with a flowing red cape. A small ship constructed of wood and painted a deep umber lays to the side on the carpet.
She spends most of her time with him now. And she regrets none of it, because it makes her happy to see him light up at her presence. His father never comes to see him. And such as it always was for a businessman. He loved his work more than his family, and she could not scorn him for that. So she coddles her son, surrounding him in love.
She refuses to allow him to grow up alone, like she had been for so many years.
A servant girl watches them beside the bedroom door, quietly look on in earnest as the lady of the house holds up the two figures for her son and smiles; the pirate and the hero.
'This is the fearsome villain! He has come to rob the citizens of their gold!' She whispers, laughing softly as her sons eyes widen in wonder. 'And this is the hero, who will save them and defeat the horrible villain. Isn't he so handsome? So brave?'
Her son reaches for the caped man, his lips curved into a smile.
"Huroh!" Saitama gurgles, waving the toy into the air. His mothers eyes widen as he does this, a startled gleam in her eye. Her son doesn't notice this and continues to coo over the toy.
"Huroh!" He repeats, his black eyes shining in laughter. "Huroh!"
His mother gazes at him in silence. Her eyes are thoughtful as she looks at the noble figure in her sons hands. She slowly lowers her eyes to the dark pirate in her palm, expression unfathomable.
"That's right." She says quietly. "Hero."
When he is six, he finally notices that he does not have a father like the other children.
It is almost impossible to keep it from him. Even though their home towers in the sky, Saitama still has eyes. And when he gazes out the window, there is always a family amongst the bustling citizens that flow through the city.
Those families almost always have fathers.
"Mother, where is mine?" He asks her, his black eyes earnest as he sits across from her at the breakfast table.
She looks up from the newspaper she is reading, eyebrows raising slightly.
"Where is your what?" Her voice is soft and warm. But there is confusion there too.
Saitama gazes at her in an almost sad fashion. This surprises her, as he rarely ever looks distraught. He has always been a ball of happiness. Never crying, and always smiling.
His mother sets down the paper. Her eyes are darkened in worry.
"Honey, what is it? Have you lost something?" Now her voice is as earnest as his, and the servants setting down their plates pause at her tone.
"My dad." Saitama whispers. "I don't have one like the other kids."
And then there is silence.
Saitama's mother stares at him, her expression revealing nothing... but on the verge of cracking.
'I was a fool to think he would never notice.' She thinks, a sweatdrop rolling down her temple. 'But my husband is even more of a fool...how can he ignore his own son?'
But she already knows the answer. Deep down, she knows. And there is truly nothing she can do about it, because it is entirely her fault.
And so she forces her body not to tremble. She forces her gaze to become steady and her smile to become reassuring as she looks at her son. His eyes are large and innocent as he gazes at her. She wonders how long he will be that way before he see's the truth.
"Don't you see, my love?" His mother murmurs kindly. "I am both your mother...and your father. Now eat up, you dont want your okayu to get cold."
She ignores the looks the servants share with each other as she turns back to her paper, her sons bewildered gaze lowering to his bowl. She knows he is confused. And she knows he does not believe her completely. But she can only hope that he stays silent...like a good child.
Her hands are shaking.
She confronts him days later.
He rarely returns to their home, as he is always traveling through the cities of the mainland. He never sleeps there. Very few times does he eat there. And it is almost impossible to call him and expect him to answer.
It has come to the point that she barely recognizes his face anymore with the deep lines that run through his skin. And it is no wonder that her son wonders why he doesn't have a father when he is always absent. She knows Saitama's youth won't prevent him from realizing the truth sooner or later.
She is scared of losing him. He has never seen her as a liar before. She doesn't want him to see her as one now, especially with his seventh birthday so near.
So when her servants inform her of the Masters return, she slips on her cloak and hurries down the stairway. It is barely an hour into the new day and she is exhausted. But she knows he will vanish before the sunrise.
Before his son can awaken and realize he is there.
She see's her husband at the doorway, his face shadowed by the dimly lit hall as he hands his coat and cane to an old maid. When he notices his wife, he does not approach her. Instead he mutters something to the maid and begins to walk the other way.
She is beside him in seconds, her eyes full of fire.
"You need to spend time with him." Her voice is a demanding. And she feels anxious when her husbands expression does not change.
"I do not need to do anything." He replies, his voice deep and tired. "Almost seven years it has been...I'm not sure why you're so keen on a change now."
"He needs a father." She pleads, her irises shaking. When he tries to turn away, she grips him tighter. "He needs you! How cruel of a man can you be? Your son is-"
"He is not my son." His voice is a roar now, and the black of his eyes is now a stormy gray as he snatches his arm from her hold.
The sound reverberates throughout the room- startling her into silence.
It has been so long since that day. And to hear him say the words now destroys her. The little amount of control and determination she harbored began to crumble.
And when he sighs deeply and slips away into the darkness of the hall, she does not move to stop him.
'I am a fool.' She thinks numbly. 'A fool.'
As the hours tick by, she can only stare blankly into the rising dawn. Despite the warmth of the morning, all she can feel is her blood turning to ice..
She wonders if her life is gone.
When Saitama's birthday finally arrives, his 'father' still does not show. His mother does not mention this.
Instead she treats it as a happy day. The same as his other birthdays- and yet somehow better.
"Today, I'm going to take you out into the city." She tells him, lifting his arms so she can slip a coat onto his lanky form. "You'll get to try out so many fun things with me!"
He is startled at this at first, but soon his face is beaming. He has never been into the city before.
"Are we going alone?" He asks, eyes flickering to the old maid who is always present when someone enters or leaves the manor.
His mother pokes his forehead, her lips curved into a mirthful smile. "Yes, this day is just for you and me. There will be a festival going on nearby... aren't you excited?"
He does not have to say a word for her to know.
His sparkling eyes say it all.
When they walk out onto the patio that morning, she holds her sons hand as tightly as she can.
They are both smiling.
His eyes are quivering in fear, and all he hears is the thundering beat of his heart.
In front of him is a monster. In the shape of a vicious dog with red eyes, it towers above him and his unconscious mother. Blood and saliva drip from its fangs, red eyes dark and dead.
He desperately looks back and forth between his mother and the large pillar that has fallen over her legs. Her face is pale and a small bag of treats lay beside her now limp hands. She does not open her eyes even as screams echo around her. The people who had been in street nearby before the monster appeared were already fleeing, none of them daring to look back.
Saitama is frozen, black eyes growing moist as he realizes what is happening. The monster dog is stalking closer to him, a low growl in its throat. His entire body is trembling, and his mind screams for him to run.
But then his eyes fall on his mothers still form, her breathing shallow and blood seeping from under the pillar...and he knows he can't leave her.
He wonders if they are going to die.
It happens so quickly.
It's almost impossible for him to comprehend it.
One moment he is sure that he will die. His body tells him this. His mind holds on to this...and he believes it. The tremble of his hands, and the deafening beat of his heart, as if it is about to fall right out of his chest- all of this only echoes what he already knows. He knows he is going to die.
Eyes red as rubies stare him down, the jowl of the monster hangs low, fangs bared and viens bulging from its neck. He knows that the monster is waiting for him to flee. As that was what his mother had tried to do before it attacked.
She had held on so tightly to Saitama's hand, tears already falling and her face terribly scared and pale. It had only taken seconds. From her turning to flee with her son in hand, and then having flesh ripped from her back, the momentum of the monsters sudden charge causing a large pillar to collapse. The sudden crash and the sharp rubble resulting from it had trapped her and separated the monster as well as mother and son from the rest of the festival.
He wonders where the police are...where the heroes that his mother tells him so many stories about are.
He wonders if he and his mother have been forgotten so quickly.
But even now...fear erodes over the bitterness he feels for them being left behind as the monster stalks around his shivering form. He feels hot breath wash over his face, the stench of death drenching him. That is how close the monster is to him. And it is all he can do not to collapse.
He thinks of the servants back at home, and how they all smiled with closed lips as if full of secrets. How they had been happy for him and wished him a wonderful birthday. How they had said they would have something wonderful prepared for them when they returned.
He feels sick, just thinking about it.
And then he is suddenly angry.
One thing that had always plagued him throughout his short life had been doubt. He had been content in how simply he had lived. He had never bothered to feel fear. The only thing he had ever needed was his mother to be there. Even when he wished to leave the walls of his home and see the outside, he had always hid inside himself and accepted everything as it was.
This day had been different for him. How far he had traveled through the city, how much he had seen- it had been different from anything he had ever experienced. And he had loved everything about it. The fact that it was all falling apart...the fact that his loved one was so close to dying right in front of him...and yet all he could feel was feel fear for a monster...
It made him angry beyond words.
And now that anger shined in his eyes like fire as he slowly raised his head to face the beast fully. Red clashed with black then, and he saw deep within those lifeless eyes was hunger. It had sensed and fed off of his fear... and had been waiting for him to run like the rest. Saitama felt his jaw clench as he realized this.
He wouldn't give it the satisfaction. His hands were still trembling, but no longer did he feel fear. That dreaded emotion was corroded by white hot pain and fury. His hands clenched onto the closest piece of rubble, a sharp edged rock, beside his body. He did it so slowly, so carefully, while his eyes were still locked onto the red eyes of the monster. Studying him yet oblivious to the small movements he made beyond its visage.
So fast did his body spring up that it felt like he flew.
He see's the monsters muscles tighten, teeth bared as it lunges forward as if to snatch the boys body right out of the air. And then all he see's is red. Dark and scarlet and flooding his vision. Saitama's eyes shut on instinct, waiting for the pain.
But the monsters jaws never make it around the young boys body.
'Kid...' A deep voice murmurs beside Saitama's ear, large limbs cradling him as they descend from the sky. Saitama fills a gust of wind blow through his hair in that moment, as well as the thundering crash of meat against stone. He is breathing harshly, struggling to gain control of his trembling body. But he still manages to open his eyes to see who has saved him.
A smiling face greets Saitama as he lifts his head, sparkling eyes full of mirth meeting his shocked gaze. A head full of black hair covers the mans head, a shade darker than his.
The mans eyes are as black as the night.
Saitama's gaze slides to the left, where he see's the growling beast of a dog hefting itself off the ground, blood dripping from a fresh wound on its bulky shoulder.
Saitama turns back towards the man, who has already begun lowering him onto the ground as his muscled hands curl into fists.
'You did well keeping this beast distracted..but leave this to the professionals eh? I'll take care of this, and then save that pretty lady over there. Your mama I'm guessing.'
"Who are you." Saitama stammers, eyes acutely aware that the beast was now facing them both. His eyes quickly shot towards his mother, who was lying beneath the rubble.
'Who, me?' The man asks, carefree gaze still on the monster as he punches his fist and prepares for battle.
'The names Blast. And I'd shut your eyes if I were you kid. It's about to get messy around here.'
Saitama didn't have to be told twice, barely obeying the order in time before a bright light erupted around them.
When he finally opened his eyes, the man was gone.
And so was the monster.
Sirens erupted around him suddenly, jolting the young boy from his confusion, and Saitama barely managed to wonder what on earth had happened before uniformed men filled the area.
He quickly focused on bringing their attention to his mother, both stunned and utterly relieved to see that the pillar had been lifted from her body- and that she was still breathing.
As she is hefted into an ambulance, Saitama being led away from the chaotic scene, he briefly wonders if he'd ever see that man again.
Part II
.❀. Awakening .❀.
'Go back where you belong- on the trashy side of the city!'
Their screams are relentless.
'You damn vermin- leave work like this to the real professionals!'
The condemnation is never ending.
'Can you believe this guy? How shameless can one person be.'
He has numbed himself to all of it long ago however.
'Doing it all for money- has he no pride? Look at the town- who is going to pay for all this?'
Even when all they speak are lies.
Saitama hefts his prize high onto his shoulder, the one eyed beast overwhelming him in size to the point of dragging alongside him on the ground. Dark red is soaked into his clothing and it runs down his pale skin, his eyes fierce and cold enough to keep the onlookers at a distance. Despite the poisonous words they spout at him, no one dares to come any closer- especially at the sight of his dark aura and the blood that is dripping off of his temple.
Despite the fact that he is covered in blood, none of the red liquid belongs to him. In fact, there is not a single injury beyond mild scrapes to be seen on the man as he walks through the streets of the city and silently heads for north.
The furious crowd that surrounds him are forced to stand back as he forces his way through the street, moonlight shining both on him and the subdued monster he carries- the sight intimidating them more than they wish to admit and barely manage to hide for that matter.
The farther Saitama walks, the less people that follow. And in turn, the softer the voices become until there is no one left in the darkness of the night but him.
An hour has passed and the crowd is now no where to be seen. His muscles do not ache despite the distance he has traveled, but he barely notices the time that flies by. It is just him now, and the abnormally large monster that he carries with him.
But even though he is alone, this does nothing to brighten his mood. In fact, his dilemma remains. Now that there is nothing but silence and moonlight and the soft pat of his boots against the asphalt, Saitama's mind can be empty no longer. And to his dismay, the only thoughts that swim in his head are ones that consist of bitter shouts and insulting jeers.
He see's the headquarters of Axel in the distance, just a few yards away from where he stands in the road. But he doesn't rush to reach there, instead grasping his captive by its furry jowl, ignoring the blood that instantly smears across his hand, and lets it fall the the ground with a resounding thud. The bald man follows suit soon after, resting against a nearby lamp-post and sighing deeply.
Five years.
Only five years had he lived in this city. At the very edge of the mainland- and yet he had already realized how much he hated the place.
It wasn't so much the people that irked him. Ah, no- he had long ago lost the passion to even care about their opinions of him. And it wasn't because of the constant mutations and monstrous beings that plagued the streets each day either.
In fact, he welcomed the nuances. Capturing and at times even killing the monsters gave him food to eat and shelter to sleep under, even if the house he had wasn't even a house at all. Rather, it was a run down apartment at the top of an even more run down complex where several irritating tenants didn't seem to know the meaning of privacy.
Case in point, he had woken up to the bold red words of 'FREAK', 'Aho', and 'Drop Dead Baldy' spray painted on his window.
It wouldn't have bothered him as much as it did, after all he was already accustomed to such petty infliction's, but it didn't take him long to realize the paint was extremely difficult to clean out. Climbing out of the window and hovering against the railings of a fire escape while several bystanders jeered at him from below had been a poor start to the day.
And worser yet, he had only one pack of ramen left in his cupboard. Along with dust. And cobwebs. An empty stomach and his home tainted had been irritating to deal with, but eventually Saitama could only shrug and switch on his television to see what new criminal group or monster had decided to attack the land this time.
So low on tolerance had he been for the disgraceful attention that followed his every move as a bounty hunter, that the man had taken a long break from leaving his home at all. It wasn't too hard to live as a hermit for a while, curling up in his blanket and sleeping like it was winter for what seemed to be weeks.
After all, a number of the other hunters were just as capable of taking down the monsters. And fortunately for those goons, they were much more popular with the populace than Saitama was. Of course, that didn't exclude them from the jeers of the Police Force, but most had long seized to care about their hostility anyway.
But even he couldn't survive for too long without money and food. And no longer did he even entertain the idea of trying to become a salesman or some other irritatingly droll job. Granted, to say the organization he worked for was 'shady' was an understatement. Saitama hadn't even given the company a second look whenever he went searching for jobs.
That is until Amai Mask, a man who took his name far too seriously, approached him one night after his many failed attempts to find a job.
Saitama had brushed off the man when he lingered by his home and tried to strike up a conversation- deeming him to be creepy, annoying, and a waste of time. Eventually though, when Saitama had been tired and hungry and alone and on the brink of losing his apartment, the man appeared once again. And that time there had been no lighthearted smiles and sickeningly fake gestures of kindness as he approached the stairs Saitama had been draped across.
There had been an aura of steel and confidence wafting off him, and even the rain that poured down from the thundering sky didn't seem to bother the bluette in the least, nor did the glare that Saitama sent his way deter him. Amai had the aura of a man who had gotten what he wanted at last as well as an infuriatingly smug smile to go with that aura.
'Why, you look rather pitiful.' Amai Mask chuckled, as his jade eyes fell on the broken man in front of him, ducking when an overhead lantern wooshed by his head.
He turned to watch the lantern fade into the distance before smirking at the person blinking up at him.
Saitama didn't move from his spot. Didn't soften his gaze. And even as rain droplets trailed down his face and onto his sweatshirt, the bored look he wore didn't fade. Rather a hint of irritation and a tick of his jaw set off once he recognized the man who stood before him.
The silky blue hair that was too perfect for a man and lips that seemed permanently etched into a grin...no doubt about it, the creep had returned- and at the worst possible time.
'What the hell do you want?' Saitama muttered, his earlier frustration at not gaining a job now transitioning into irritation for the man in front of him.
'Oh my...how cruel. Here I am wanting to help a fellow citizen and this is the rude response I get?'
'Answer my question.'
'Alright then...I've heard quite an earful about you Saitama. You seem to be quite a powerful man. If you would just hear me out, I'm sure I could interest you in an offer of mine.'
'Look, I don't know why you're so obsessed with me," Saitama began, his expression bored and his voice bland. "But I'm not interested and never will be.'
'Ah.' A hint of disapproval flashed in Amai Mask's eyes. 'You don't seem to understand. You are about to lose your home, yes? You have no money, or friends...'
'What are you getting at.' Saitama looked up at the man, his eyebrows raising. He stood up from the steps.
Amai paused, his eyes coolly assessing the mans change of mood. A smile broke out on his face in no time however, a light laugh escaping from his lips.
'I guess I can come on a bit too strong.' The blue haired man murmured, hands lifting as if surrendering despite not taking a step to retreat. 'I didn't come to fight.'
'Really? You have a funny way of showing it. But it doesn't matter, just go back to where you came from and I'll forget this ever happened.'
Amai stilled, his eyes widening slightly as Saitama yawned and sat back down, closing his eyes as if to sleep. And if it was possible, the mans grin spread even wider.
'You have it in you... Of that I am certain.' Amai raised a hand behind his head, his voice slow. 'But I realize I jumped at this opportunity too soon. So I'll just say this.'
Saitama opened one eye, curiosity getting the better of him as the man leaned over and set a small piece of paper down on the step closest to him. 'If you ever change your mind and become 'interested' in a job, then please reconsider talking to me.'
Amai had already turned to leave by the time Saitama silently reached for the paper. His eyebrows rose slightly when he saw Axel printed in the center, with a number below it. He recognized the company name instantly, and he could barely keep the incredulity out of tone.
'A hunter?' Saitama called to the retreating mans back, causing the man to pause. 'That's what you've been trying to turn me into?'
'You speak as if this thought disdains you. As I understand, you already serve the public in your freetime- killing monsters is rather easy for you.' Amai's voice was quiet, but he didn't turn around.
'If I wanted to get bounty money, I could just go to the Chief. Besides, there are plenty of strong people who are already hunters.' Saitama muttered, his hand easily crumbling up the paper and tossing it aside. It soaked in the rain instantly, turning into a pile of mush.
Amai was quiet for a moment. But soon he had turned and walked back to where Saitama sat, his slanted eyes blazing with barely concealed fire.
'I have never seen one with as much potential as you. Those poor excuses of power...they do not compare. You need money do you not? And it's not like you are afraid of dying.'
'And it's not like you're in desperate need of one more hunter.' Saitama pointed out, another yawn leaving his lips. He wondered if he should head inside and sleep. After all, he wasn't going to live there much longer. Might as well rest until he had to head out for good.
As Saitama mulled over this, the bluette beside him silently watched him before lifting his shoulders in a shrug, a half smile forming on his face as he turned away for the last time.
'My offer still stands either way. You know where to find me...if, of course, you are willing to keep your home.' And then he was gone.
Saitama blinked out at the rain where Amai Mask had previously been, his eyebrows raised.
What a weird guy.
Eventually he stood up and stretched, hand lifting to door of the apartment building, skin shivering slightly because of the cold. He wondered where he was going to live after the week was out, and struggled to remember if there were any shelters nearby he could stay in until he found a secure place.
And then, almost against his will, his eyes fell on the soggy paper lying beside the steps.
Saitama sighed.
I'm not fond of chapters full of exposition but if I'm going to alter the DNA behind Saitama, from being a hero for fun to a bounty hunter for survival, I have to make it count eh?
Saitama seeming so lost in the first episode when he's trying to be a business man of sorts has always intrigued me- and I like imagining he was pressured into that by someone, likely family, who he eventually severs ties from. I wish Blast was his father but it seems too unlikely and we know so little about him at this point. Anyway I'm a bit worried about this chapter. It seems like somethings missing, but hopefully it was as engaging as the last chapter.
Thanks for reading. ^ _ ^