A guy with nothing but determination decides to be a superhero, and the show treats that as completely legitimate, then spends 22 episodes systematically breaking what "hero" even means. The genre shifts will either feel like brilliant subversion or like the show doesn't know what it wants to be, depending on who you are. By the end, you're not watching a deconstruction of sentai anymore; you're watching two men redefine heroism on their own terms, which is the only thing that actually matters.
Masayoshi is a wannabe superhero with zero powers and a closet full of homemade costumes. He patrols the streets as Samurai Flamenco, stopping petty criminals and helping old ladies cross the road, convinced he's destined for greatness. His secret unravels when Goto, a straightforward cop, catches him mid-patrol and gets dragged into the whole ridiculous operation. What starts as Goto wanting nothing to do with this delusional civilian quickly becomes something neither of them expected. The two form an unlikely partnership where Masayoshi's stubborn belief in justice collides with Goto's pragmatic reality. They chase small-time crooks, deal with actual consequences, and slowly discover that being a hero isn't about flashy powers or dramatic speeches. It's messier and more complicated than that. The show walks a careful line between genuine comedy and real stakes, making you laugh at Masayoshi's earnest delusion one moment and genuinely care about what he's risking the next. It's about two guys figuring out what justice actually means when you're just ordinary people trying to make a difference.