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"Can you even see my shadow?"
"Can you keep up with my speed?"
"Scared yet?!"
"This kind of speed—"
"You've never seen anything like this before!"
The ninja's voice echoed as he darted across the field, his movements too fast to follow. His speed had long since broken the sound barrier—he was practically invisible, a blur no normal person could ever comprehend.
Ethan watched the ninja hopping and flashing about, already imagining how this would end. He was picturing the moment Saitama would casually defeat him—probably in the dumbest way possible. Sure, the ninja was fast—faster than sound—but compared to Saitama? He might as well be crawling.
He wondered what kind of face that ninja would make when he realized he'd been beaten so easily.
Just then, Saitama turned his head, clearly bored. "Hey," he called out lazily, "can I go home now?"
"What? Damn it—Wind Blade Kick!"
The ninja vanished and reappeared midair, his leg slicing down with enough force to cut through steel. The move carried the full weight of his supersonic momentum—it was supposed to be unstoppable.
But Saitama just turned his body a little, casually sidestepping the strike. Then he lifted his fist, holding it up like a mock salute.
The ninja's body kept falling with inertia—straight down toward Saitama's upraised fist.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl.
Sweat rolled down the ninja's face as his eyes widened. He wasn't shocked that Saitama dodged again—he was horrified at where Saitama's fist was. Right between his legs.
And then—contact.
There was a faint ripple in the air.
Ethan's jaw dropped. "Oh man… that's gotta hurt."
He had imagined a hundred different ways the ninja might lose, but not like this. Definitely not like this.
"Pfft—HAHAHAHA!" Ethan burst out laughing, clutching his stomach and nearly collapsing. In his head, he could hear an invisible game announcer: Critical Hit! Weak Point Bonus! Double Damage! Lethal Impact! Total KO!
Yep, that punch probably did more damage than anything Saitama had ever thrown.
"Ah—sorry!" Saitama said, blinking blankly. "I didn't mean to hit there! I just… kinda moved and… yeah."
Even he looked embarrassed. He hadn't been trying to hurt the guy, just scare him off a bit. Unfortunately, physics had other plans.
The ninja was curled up on the ground, both legs clamped together. Ethan thought to himself that tagging along with Saitama was absolutely worth it—there was never a dull moment with this bald guy.
The ninja wheezed, "I'm… Sonic. The strongest ninja. I take assassination jobs, bodyguard work… everything. Tell me… your name."
"Saitama."
Ethan snorted. Even now, the guy was still trying to sound cool. He really regretted not bringing a camera—this clip would've gone viral for sure. Front-page material.
After taking care of the Hammerhead gang and Sonic in one go, Saitama headed home. But just like before, everyone glared at him, whispered behind his back, or flat-out insulted him.
He tried explaining, loudly, that he was a hero, a famous one at that. But the response was always the same:
"Who are you supposed to be?""Never heard of you.""Probably just another scammer."
Each insult hit harder than a monster's punch. By the time they got back, Saitama's soul looked like it had left his body.
"Don't worry, Saitama," Ethan said gently. "You're not completely unknown."
Saitama's eyes flickered with a tiny spark of hope. "Really?"
"Of course! Look—'Lollipop Bandit' just hit the front page! That's you, man! You're trending! People are gonna know your name in no time."
"Shut up!" Saitama snapped. "I don't want that kind of fame! I'm supposed to be a hero, dammit! Why is a guy on a bicycle more popular than me?!"
He jabbed a finger toward the side of the road, where the unlicensed rider was pedaling past—cheerful, waving, actually getting applause from the crowd.
Ethan frowned, thinking hard. Saitama watched him expectantly, eyes full of desperate hope. Finally, Ethan smacked his fist into his palm.
"I think… it's because he's not bald."
Saitama froze. Then his face turned gray. He stood there like a statue, whispering to himself, over and over:"Not bald, not bald, not bald, not bald…"
"I'm sorry, okay?! I didn't mean it!" Ethan said, patting his shoulder. "Hey, look on the bright side! I heard if you eat a lot of seaweed, even bald guys can regrow their hair!"
"For real?"
"Totally! The internet says so. Seaweed, black sesame, walnuts—stuff like that."
Saitama's eyes lit up. "Then I'll do it! I'll eat all of it! Next time you see me, I won't be bald! I swear it!"
And just like that, the world's strongest hero began his new, greatest quest yet—not for justice,not for glory,but for hair.
"..."
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