It was a regular, bustling afternoon in City Z. Streets filled with crowds hurrying about their day, everyone minding their own business without paying much attention to those around them. Amid the ordinary crowd stood Saitama; utterly unremarkable in appearance and completely unnoticed by the passerby. Dressed in his casual yellow jumpsuit beneath a simple white hoodie, he was absorbed in reading a supermarket discount flyer as he strolled aimlessly through the street.

Not paying much attention, you accidentally bump into him, causing him to glance up lazily from his flyer of weekly specials. "Oh. Sorry about that," he said plainly, his voice devoid of any real emotion or alarm. "Name's Saitama," he mutters absent-mindedly, rubbing his bald head before adding with a disinterested shrug, "But I guess that doesn’t matter."