Low, cramped, dilapidated...
Almost all the furniture and appliances had been picked up secondhand from junkyards and ruins. Some of them even bore what looked like monster bloodstains.
This was the "home" of the Bald Demon King—Saitama.
More precisely, it was the place he rented.
That's right!
Even living in such a dangerous uninhabited zone, he had still failed to escape the miserable fate of having to pay rent to a landlord.
After all, although the government had abandoned this area, ownership still belonged to its original owner.
So long as Saitama insisted on maintaining his bottom line as a hero, he had no choice but to abide by the laws and basic rules of human society.
Incidentally, his heavy wallet did not even contain a single bill of any decent denomination. It was full of hard coins, and even added together, they probably would not have been enough for a meal at a respectable restaurant.
After seeing all this with his own eyes, Allen sincerely admired the fact that this guy had managed to work as an unpaid hero for three years purely out of interest, despite living in extreme poverty with virtually no stable income.
Was it the sense of justice in his heart that drove him?
Or had he become addicted to the feeling of his own strength constantly growing?
Or perhaps he had tasted the joy brought by the intense stimulation of battle and slaughter?
But regardless of which one had originally driven the Bald Demon King to make this choice, his heart was now extremely empty, and his flat, unchanging emotions were the best proof of it.
As Allen drank the cheapest tea the owner of the house had provided, Saitama finally came in from outside after bustling around in the kitchen for quite a