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"The hero known as License-less Rider fought bravely against a monster earlier today and was severely injured. Let us all take a moment to honor his courage—and hope for his swift recovery, so he may once again protect the citizens of our city…"
Ethan rubbed his nose as he watched the news broadcast."Thank goodness the guy's not dead," he muttered in relief. "Otherwise, I'd probably feel a bit guilty."
He leaned back on his chair, a grin slowly spreading across his face."You know, that guy actually reminds me of a movie I watched once… what was it called again? Oh right—Kick-Ass! Yeah, that's it! Maybe I should make my own version, but based on License-less Rider!"
With that brilliant idea in mind, Ethan clenched his fist and lightly smacked it into his palm, fired up with inspiration.
He grabbed his pencil and began sketching on his pad. Within a few strokes, a detailed drawing of the humble hero appeared—License-less Rider, age twenty-seven, a man with a heart full of justice who'd dreamed of being a hero since he was a kid. And when his teenage chuunibyo phase hit full force…
BOOM!
The ceiling suddenly exploded, showering dust and plaster everywhere as a toad-like monster came crashing down right into Ethan's room.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Hey, Baldy! Get over here and help!" Ethan yelled, knocking on the wall next to him.
The toad monster grinned, his wide mouth drooling as he spoke."Oh? Calling for help? Hahaha! Useless! No one can save you now! You smell… amazing. That scent—so rich, so… intoxicating. I just have to eat you. Just breathing it in makes me feel like I've already devoured a swan. And if I actually do eat you…"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Ethan knocked on the wall again, frowning."Damn it, is that bald guy not home again? So annoying…"
"Scared, are you?" The monster chuckled darkly. "Don't worry, I won't swallow you whole. That'd be such a waste. I'll start with one arm today… then maybe the other tomorrow—"
"Get lost."
With an annoyed look, Ethan swung his hand through the air.
His palm never even touched the monster's face, but the shockwave alone smashed it out of shape. The toad's head twisted, deformed, and with a loud crash, the creature was sent flying out of the room like a ragdoll.
Thud!
It landed hard on the ground—right at someone's feet.
"Huh? A monster?" said a calm voice.
The bald man standing there looked up to see a gaping hole where Ethan's door used to be.
"Ethan, you got attacked again?" Saitama poked his shiny head through the broken doorway, the light reflecting off it like a spotlight.
"Baldy, finally! Where the hell were you all day? I couldn't find you anywhere! Didn't see that gleaming head of yours once, and I was starting to worry!"
Saitama twitched, a big stress-mark practically popping onto his shiny dome.
"Same deal as always," Ethan said cheerfully. "You clean up this mess, and I'll buy you dinner."
"You've got a deal," Saitama replied immediately.
"Wow, that fast? Aren't you supposed to be a hero? Ever thought of taking a page out of License-less Rider's book and offering some free service?"
"Don't call me baldy! And who's License-less Rider supposed to be?"
"Another wannabe hero—just like you. Only difference is, he's not bald."
In the blink of an eye, the wrecked room looked spotless again.
As expected, Saitama worked like a machine—efficient, precise, and absurdly fast. Ethan couldn't help thinking that this guy might have a brighter future as a construction worker than as a hero. Give him enough building materials and two days, and he could probably rebuild a fifty-story tower all by himself.
"Hey, Baldy…" Ethan paused mid-bite.
"Hm?" Saitama didn't even stop eating.
"Are you really human? I mean, maybe you're not a man at all—maybe you're just a bald-type monster pretending to be one." Ethan tapped Saitama's head twice with his chopsticks.
"Damn it! I am human! Totally, completely normal!"
"Normal? Really? Let's ignore your insane strength and speed for a second—and that ridiculous endurance. Just look at that blinding chrome-dome! No way that's normal!"
"Shut up! You have no idea how much I've suffered to get this strong!" Saitama slammed his chopsticks down on the table, looking genuinely irritated.
"Oh? Then do tell. What kind of training gives you power like that?" Ethan leaned forward, genuinely curious. He really did want to know what kind of hellish regimen could turn someone into a monster-slaying powerhouse.
Saitama cleared his throat and grew serious."Listen carefully. My training was extremely tough—really, really, really tough."
Ethan nodded earnestly. "Go on."
Saitama straightened up, his expression deadly serious."First—one hundred push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, one hundred squats…"
"Huh?" Ethan blinked.
"And a ten-kilometer run. Every. Single. Day."
"…Then what?"
"That's it."
Ethan twitched. "That's… your whole routine?"
"Of course! It was insanely hard!"
Looking at Saitama's straight-faced sincerity, Ethan felt an overwhelming urge to plant his size-43 shoe right in that shiny face.
"..."
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