"Faster! Faster! Even faster!"
Watching the checkout line stretch like a dragon, a bald man in a yellow bodysuit stared, eyes bulging, resigned to the very end of the queue.
In his hands, he clutched a bundle of time-limited discount cabbage and enoki mushrooms.
Saitama's heart was racing. If he got home too late, would KING decide not to come?
The thought of missing out on delicious high-grade beef just because the line was slow made life feel hardly worth living.
Onlookers eyed the bald weirdo in yellow spandex. A child opened his mouth, but his mother yanked him away with a glare.
Saitama had long since grown used to such stares, his face slipping back into its usual blankness.
Whatever—no cutting. Just wait it out.
Coins clattered onto the counter. Saitama clutched his cabbage and mushrooms and vanished from the supermarket in an instant.
Pedestrians felt a blur, then a gust, as a fleeting afterimage streaked down the street.
In under two minutes, he burst free of the crowds, vaulted the barbed wire surrounding the uninhabited zone, and landed inside.
Once inside, Saitama poured on several times more speed, running wild.
The pavement cracked. A bullfrog-headed monster crawled from a hole, whipping its sticky tongue, veins bulging over bulging muscles.
"I'm Bullfrog-Man! I loved frog legs and lifting so much I—"
Before he could finish, the monster's head exploded into a red mist; no scream escaped.
Saitama flicked green slime from his red glove as casually as swatting a fly.
Reaching his door, he found a tall blond figure already waiting, three glittering boxes in hand.
Saitama squinted: pink marbling laced through snowy fat in perfect snowflake patterns, slices cut just right.
High-grade beef!
His face lit up. Beaming, he ushered King inside.
Once indoors, King instinctively surveyed the place.
No dust. Tidy enough. Furniture complete. Manga packed a shelf; a cushioned mat lay in front of the TV.
Hard to believe the strongest man alive lived in such a cramped room.
A few minutes passed.
As the hotpot began to bubble, Saitama tossed in cabbage and mushrooms first for flavor.
When the moment looked right, King eyed the plated beef, and an idea struck.
In this world of One-Punch Man, mental power exists; it can be shaped into psychokinesis to control objects.
Though his other stats dwarfed his spirit, that stat still met Dragon Level—enough to form solid psychokinesis.
He focused, gathering mental energy and aiming it at the beef.
A pale green glow flickered. Under his will, the entire plate rose, drifted, and dropped its beef into the searing broth.
Even Saitama blinked. "Pretty cool power—so KING, you're an esper too?"
Watching Saitama's envy, King rubbed his nose.
"Sort of, but mostly I just use it to move stuff around."
"Whoa—so you can grab a drink without getting off the bed?"
Saitama's offhand remark almost made King lose his composure.
Chatting lightly, about eight seconds passed; the crimson beef began to change color in the rolling soup.
The instant it hit eighty percent cooked, both men snapped their eyes open and struck.
In a blink, chopsticks blurred, every slice of high-grade beef yanked from the pot into their bowls.
King thought he'd moved at top speed, yet scored only five slices; the rest filled Saitama's bowl.
As expected of the Bald Demon King—even beef-snatching speed is off the charts.
Saitama, meanwhile, was impressed King had nabbed five. He hadn't been serious, but losing five slices meant King was already remarkably fast.
With bellies full, the two grew chatty.
King, picking his teeth, suddenly asked, "So, Saitama, ever thought of becoming a pro hero?"
Saitama blinked, puzzled. "Huh? I am a hero—a hobby hero, remember?"
No wonder you're broke, King mused. Saitama wiped out monsters for fun but never took the official job. Without steady income, if not for rent-free utilities in deserted Z-City, he'd be homeless.
King outlined the Hero Association's structure and its rank system.
Saitama lifted a slice. "So, KING, you're an S-Class Hero. What's the monthly pay up there?"
King recalled. "Base salary's about five million yen."
"How much?!"
Beef shot from Saitama's mouth. Eyes popping, he wolfed down his slices, then zipped into his yellow suit.
"Then what are we waiting for! Today the Hero Association gains a new S-Class Hero!"