The ceiling fan creaked as it spun slowly overhead, its uneven rhythm clicking every third rotation.
Saitama lay sprawled out on his futon in the middle of the room, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other scratching lazily at his stomach.
The morning light crept in through the dusty blinds, casting stripes across his blank expression.
A faint rumble echoed through the ground, distant and unimportant. Maybe construction. Or an earthquake. Or someone fighting a monster again. Whatever.
He blinked once. Then again.
"Ugh," he muttered, dragging himself up like a corpse rising from the grave. His pajama shirt clung to his shoulder on one side, completely off the other.
His slippers were mismatched, one had a cartoon frog on it, the other was just a flattened sandal he'd picked up off the street three months ago.
The kitchen was as depressingly normal as ever. A cracked tile. A humming fridge. One egg.
"...Only one left?" he mumbled, staring into the fridge like it had betrayed him. "Guess I forgot to go shopping."
He cracked the egg into a pan anyway, cooking it slowly over the barely functioning burner. The smell of overcooked yolk filled the room. He made a face, shoved it on rice, and ate in silence.
Somewhere outside, a building exploded. He didn't even glance toward the window.
After breakfast, he stood in the middle of the living room. The clock ticked. A newspaper flapped against the outside of his door, stuck there by the wind.
Except, he didn't subscribe to a newspaper. He tilted his head.
"Must be free."
He peeled it off and glanced at the front page. Big, bold letters read: "SIGHTING OF TRIO SWINGING THROUGH THE FINANCIAL DISTRICT – SPIDER-MENACE OR SPIDER-HOPE?"
He blinked.
"What's a 'Spider-Menace'?" he muttered, flipping through the rest. "Also... where's City Z?"
He looked out the window. The skyline was jagged, strange. No towering monsters. No Hero Association billboards.
Instead, faded graffiti, rusted water towers, and a half-destroyed bridge in the distance. Trash danced in the breeze like tumbleweeds in a desert.
The streets below were cracked and empty, save for the occasional flicker of a shadow far off between ruined storefronts.
Saitama squinted.
"Did the neighborhood... always look like this?"
He stepped outside, locking the door behind him even though the doorknob barely worked. A gust of wind tugged at his loose yellow hoodie.
The air smelled like metal and something vaguely electrical. No C-class heroes were patrolling. No hover-drones from HQ.
He walked two blocks in silence, passing a broken-down arcade and a noodle shop that had a "FOR LEASE" sign duct-taped to the front.
When he reached the corner grocery store, his usual one, he was sure, it was boarded up, the windows shattered and spray-painted over.
"Man, is everything closed for maintenance or what?" he muttered, poking at the plywood.
Then something slammed overhead.
A huge blur of muscle and grey skin smashed through a rooftop, scattering debris down the street like confetti. Saitama paused mid-step, looking up with a half-eaten rice cracker in hand.
A massive figure in a metal-plated suit, the size of a small truck, roared as he plowed through a streetlamp.
His horn tore a chunk from a delivery truck before he bounded over a taxi and kept running.
"COME BACK HERE AND FIGHT ME PROPERLY!" Rhino bellowed, shaking the pavement as he charged down the street like a freight train with legs.
Three more shapes zipped through the air, swinging on bright white webs.
"Come on, Rhino, we've done this like five times this month!" Peter Parker shouted, twisting mid-air to shoot another webline.
Miles Morales zipped past him with a roll. "This dude's got no reverse gear!"
And just behind them, Gwen Stacy flipped gracefully through the air, her hood fluttering like a cape. "Split him up! I'll take left!"
They chased Rhino straight across the intersection, three spider-people moving like acrobats on fast-forward.
Saitama watched all of this with the cracker still in his mouth.
A chunk of debris tumbled toward him. He casually side-stepped it.
He blinked again.
"...Huh," he muttered. "Guess I'm not in City Z anymore."
Then he turned the other way and kept walking toward a different grocery store sign he saw flickering a block down. Because priorities were priorities.
...
The second store was barely standing. One flickering neon sign read "Groceries 'N Stuff", the "N" swinging on a single rusted chain. Saitama stared at it for a second.
"Good enough."
The automatic door made a mechanical choking noise before sliding open half an inch. He gave it a light push, and it gave up entirely, scraping along the floor as he stepped inside.
Inside was... surprisingly stocked. The shelves were crooked, the lights too dim, and a radio in the back played what sounded like jazz through static.
He wandered down the aisle, looking at labels.
"'Potato chips'... in English?" he muttered. "Wait a sec. Why can I read this?"
He picked up a box of cereal, turning it around in his hands.
"Ingredients... corn, sugar... huh. I don't remember studying English."
He paused, staring at the box like it had personally insulted him.
Then shrugged and tossed it into his basket next to eggs, some vegetables, and a carton of milk with a cow wearing sunglasses on it.
As he moved toward the counter, a boom shook the building. A bottle of soda toppled off a shelf and exploded on the floor beside him, fizz spraying in all directions.
"...Not paying for that," he said flatly.
Then came the second boom. Louder. Closer.
Saitama sighed, put the basket on the floor, and walked outside.
Dust floated in the air. The street was torn up from Rhino's earlier sprint, and now the guy was back, charging full speed down the road like a tank with legs, roaring loud enough to rattle windows.
Behind him, swinging high, Peter shouted to Miles, "We need to stop him before he hits 48th! Too many civilians!"
Miles flipped mid-air, launching a webline. "On it! I'll anchor the trap, just need to get him to that alleyway!"
Gwen, meanwhile, dropped lower, twisting through falling bricks and broken signage.
"I'll herd him!" she called out. "Keep your comms on!"
She swung down near street level, landing with a roll, then launched herself into a sprint. Her masked eyes focused, steps timed perfectly. She ran parallel with Rhino, throwing out taunts, turning his attention.
"Come on, big guy! Miss me already?" she shouted, flipping off a fire hydrant to dodge a wild swing.
Rhino roared and veered slightly. Good. The trap was almost ready.
And then..
step
One bald man in a hoodie and slippers casually walked out onto the street. Grocery bag in one hand. Blank look on his face.
Rhino didn't even notice him at first.
Saitama looked left.
Looked right.
Saw Rhino barreling straight at him.
He raised his free hand lazily.
And just as Rhino got close enough to let out one final, triumphant bellow...
WHAM.
The punch was instant. Not flashy. Not dramatic. Just a short, direct jab like he was swatting a bug.
Rhino's entire body froze mid-charge.
Then, like someone unplugged him from reality, he flew backward in a perfect arc, crashing into a parked city bus so hard the entire thing crumpled like a soda can.
Silence.
No echo. No follow-up explosion.
Just... quiet.
Gwen landed nearby, breath caught in her throat, staring at the massive Rhino-shaped dent in the bus.
Then she turned to the man with the plastic grocery bag.
He was already walking away.
Didn't even glance back.
"...Wait," she muttered.
Saitama paused at the sidewalk, shifting the bag to his other hand.
"Eh. Hope the eggs didn't crack."
Then kept walking.
Gwen just stood there, stunned. Web shooter still aimed, breath caught mid-command. Her brain struggling to wrap itself around what she'd just witnessed.
No fight.
No effort.
Just—gone.
And the guy didn't even care.
...
Peter and Miles landed on opposite rooftops, both eyeing the scene below, Rhino down for the count, embedded halfway into a wrecked city bus like he was part of the upholstery.
"...Did you do that?" Peter asked, glancing at Gwen.
Gwen shook her head slowly, still looking in the direction Saitama had walked off to.
"Nope."
Miles raised a brow under his mask. "Then who did?"
She didn't answer.
Peter let out a low whistle. "Man, I thought you packed a punch. That guy hit Rhino like he was trying to swat a mosquito."
Miles nodded. "And somehow made it look boring."
Peter opened a portal behind him, the neon hues swirling. "Wanna hit up the Spider Society lounge? I heard Margo's bringing Korean BBQ this time."
"Ooh, yes. Let's go before Hobie eats everything," Miles said, already stepping in.
Peter turned to Gwen. "You coming?"
She hesitated. Then gave a half-smile. "Nah, I've got... something I gotta check out."
Peter arched a brow. "Something?"
"I'll catch up. Promise."
Peter and Miles exchanged a glance, shrugged, and disappeared into the portal as it snapped shut with a soft whump.
Gwen turned and started hopping rooftops.
Far below, Saitama strolled along the sidewalk, swinging his grocery bag gently.
A carton of eggs tilted dangerously every few steps, and he occasionally adjusted them like a bored dad on a Saturday morning.
Gwen crouched low, peeking over a rooftop ledge, trying to stay subtle.
"Okay... just some random ultra-strong bald guy. Totally normal," she whispered to herself. "Not suspicious at all. Definitely worth tailing. Totally not weird."
She paused as he stopped at a street vendor, staring at some steamed buns.
Gwen ducked.
Then peeked again.
He bought two, nodded politely, and kept walking.
She tiptoed along the edge of the building.
And then...
"Whatcha doin'?"
Gwen jumped straight up, flailed, and landed with a thump on the rooftop.
She spun around to find Silk, Cindy Moon, lounging on a rooftop vent like a cat with a mouthful of noodles, casually slurping while grinning at her.
Cindy chewed, then pointed at Gwen with her chopsticks. "You spying on a guy?"
"No!" Gwen said too fast. "I mean, yes, no, not like that!"
"Ohhh," Cindy cooed, sliding down to sit beside her. "You're tailing him because he's cute."
Gwen turned red under the mask. "What?! No! He's just, he knocked out Rhino. In one hit. I think. I'm just curious!"
Cindy nodded solemnly. "Mmhmm. That's what we all say before we start doodling hearts in our journals."
"I don't have a journal."
"Yet."
Gwen groaned, flopping back dramatically. "Why are you like this."
"Because watching you panic is my favorite form of cardio," Cindy said, grinning. "So what's the story with Mr. Clean down there?"
"I don't know! That's the thing. He just... walked in, punched Rhino like it was nothing, and left. Like he was more annoyed than anything."
Cindy raised a brow. "He walked?"
"Yeah."
"No swingin', no flips, no power stance?"
"Slippers. And groceries."
Cindy blinked. "I'm in love."
Gwen shoved her shoulder. "Stop."
They both peeked over the ledge again.
Saitama had stopped by a bench, plopped down, and was now eating one of the steamed buns like he'd been doing it his whole life. Calm. Peaceful. Slight breeze blowing his cape just a little.
Silence.
Cindy leaned over. "You think he's from around here?"
Gwen narrowed her eyes. "No. Something's off."
"You should talk to him."
Gwen sat upright. "No way! What would I even say?"
"Hi. Nice punch. Do you lift, or were you just born terrifying?"
"CINDY."
Cindy shoved another mouthful of noodles in her face, still grinning. "Or you can just keep stalking him like a weirdo. That's cool too."
Gwen crossed her arms and mumbled, "I am not stalking."
From the bench below, Saitama glanced up.
Gwen immediately flattened to the roof, pulling Cindy down with her.
Saitama blinked.
Shrugged.
And kept eating.