Chapter 2:

Chapter 2: Sand-Grab

'I suppose that hoping that it was all a dream was to much to ask, then?' I thought with a groan, pulling myself into a sitting position. I'd woken up to find myself staring at a dimly lit, dirt ceiling, still wearing the slightly bloody clothes from the day before. I was wrapped up in a makeshift sleeping bag made out of a large, white square of tarp, which served as pore isolation against the relatively chilly air.

Standing up, I began to work my way through a routine of stretches as I took stalk of yesterday's events.

The prior day had been a mess, and between Dr. Genus memories and my own, I strongly suspected that I'd managed to go almost thirty hours without sleeping. Toss in my having to sleep on the floor without any proper bedding, and it was obvious why I was still so tired.

But, we'd escaped unharmed. Well, me, "my" clones, and roughly two hundred(188 to be exact) different genetically engineered life-forms, bringing the total count up to two hundred and three. It was an unfortunately small percent of the Doctors full inventory(%=27.21179 . . . ), but in the end I'd only been able to bring along those who were cooperative enough that they didn't put me or my clones at risk. It was a ruthless, mechanical decision, but one I'd had to make.

The MVP's of this group would be the Ground-Dragon line, the prototype's of the one who I(he) had sent to capture Saitama. None of them were as strong or as fast as that end result(who could casually clear a tunnel of dirt broad enough for a man to crawl through at the same speed said man could jog), but they could still shift several tones of dirt in mere minutes. Alone. When working together, it was no wonder the seventeen giant moles could get us so far away from the HoE in a single night.

Still, it had been touch and go for a while, especially with how often the "roof" nearly caved in on us.

Our tunnel was only about three to four meters tall, and about six wide, and most of us were lined up single-file, more or less doing a bucket-brigade from front to back to keep the tunnel from filling up. Several times, things had started to sag down on us, forcing one of the taller mutants to hold up the roof for us.

'I need to find a way to reward those one's . . . ' I thought, cracking my neck. 'And the G.D.'s. Especially them.'

We'd dug a long tunnel, using the extra dirt to fill both the HoE behind us, as well as filling in the tunnel itself to block of pursuers, until we'd been able to surface in the middle of some dense forest. Then, we walked for about half an hour until we reached the edge, and begun to dig another hole. We didn't want to get spotted by helicopters . . . or satellites . . . or drones . . .

That process had been repeated twice over the following ten hours, until, eventually, we tunneled into a spot of densely packed earth that the moles insisted would be able to stand without any support, for at least a couple days. And so, we'd finally laid down to sleep.

Of course, we hadn't been able to bring much in the way of comfort products, such as, say, beds, so me and my clones had wound up having to use pieces of the water resistant tarp we'd brought to protect the electronics as sheets, and sleeping on the ground.

The mutants, meanwhile, mostly had fur. They didn't see anything to complain about.

"Well," I groaned to myself, finishing my last stretch and looking around at the shadowy figures curled up all around me. "I suppose I should go and double check our inventory, huh?" Beginning to walk along the length of the tunnel, I began to do just that.

Dr. Genus's mutants were a rather varied lot. Most of whom had been created as one-off experiments, only to be put into suspended animation once they were determined to be of little value. Most of them still bore signs of their animal origins, looking like something out of T.M.N.T.

Others were more humanoid in appearance, at least in the same sense that Golum, or Sloth from "The Goonies" did. Malformed and distorted, but still visibly human.

Some of these creatures had started out as normal animals. Some of them had been people who were part of the "evolution cult" the Doctor had taken advantage of when searching for "volunteers" for his experiments. Some had been outright grown in a test-tube. But all of them were now my responsibility.

The first creatures I who were part of a defined line of experiment, rather than one-off, were "The Programmers". These giant, slug-based mutants were created from the same series of tests that had ultimately resulted in Slugerous. However, they, unlike their combat-ready counterpart, were non-sentient, more akin to docile cows in their intelligence and behavior.

They were quite cute, in an off sort of way, looking like giant versions of the leaf-sheep-sea-slug, with pail white skin and green, bio-luminescent tendrils branching off of their bodies. They had big, black eyes on the tips of their eye-stalks, and two more on their head beneath said stalks.

Bio-luminescent organisms like them were the main reason we hadn't needed to break out the flash-lights yet.

The Programmers, as their name implied, were created for the purpose of "programming" the other experiments. By making physical contact with one of their glowing tendrils, one could telepathically gain access to what was essentially a biological super-computer built into the slugs body(the slug itself having little to no access or influence to said "computer").

Through this access, one could "download" their own memories and/or knowledge directly into the slug. From there, one would be able to have the Programmer place it's eye-stalks on either side of the head of a subject, and upload the stored memories and knowledge into them. After a few upgrades, it was also possible to take information from a subjects brain, though this was a less refined process.

It was thanks to the Programmers that cloning adult clones was as effective as it was, since they only needed a week or two(if that) of physical therapy to become almost as functional as the original(me).

Of course, there were limits to this process. For the sake of speed, most of "my" clones only had a minimal load out of "my" personal memories. Sure, there had been a handful of the older clones who had had roughly 95% of said memories, essentially being a near perfect copy of the original Dr. Genus. But, out of the roughly 100 clones, only six had had more than 80% . . . and none of those had survived.

At the moment, the clone with the most of the Doctors memories only had, roughly, 50%, and even then, next to none of those memories were early-life.

'In other words, none of the clones have full context for the Doctors emotional development, so I don't need to worry about acting out of character. At least as long as I keep is subtle at the start and make sure there's a logical progression to my behavior-changes.'

I shook my head. I was trying to do inventory, but there I was getting lost in thought. I gave one of the programmers a pat on the head, and moved on(though not before taking the time to wipe the slim of on a wall).

The next group of creatures I noticed were the Minotaurs. I'd literally made those as beasts of burden. Not too bright, but you could talk to them. They were mostly used for hauling larger pieces of equipment. The large brutes were surprising delicate when they needed to be. Unfortunately they were to cowardly to be of use in a fight.

At the moment, the group(herd?) was all huddled together, sleeping next to the large, cleaned out chemical vats that I was using to keep the computer-terminals in. The big, three by four meter cylindrical vats, which were normal used for cloning or stasis, were durable enough to withstand blows from high tier tiger class enemies. Therefor, I felt they'd serve as sufficient protection for the sensitive equipment.

And what needed more protection then the entirety of the HoE's data-library? The Doctor was a Genus, but even he didn't have the flawless memory necessary to mess with DNA on the scale he did without a lot of notes to double, triple and quadruple check.

For that reason, of the five vats we'd brought along as transport, three were filled with computers, and one was filled with thousands of boxes worth of genetic samples. The last one was filled with paper notes, and smaller devices that were difficult to make or procure. Of course, I'd still need to replace most of our equipment once we got a base going . . .

Behind the vat's, were three large cart. The first two carts were filled with supplies. Nutrient bars, bottles of water, spare tarps, clothes etc. If it was something that was useful but didn't need much protecting, it was on the first two carts. On the last cart, however . . . was a mountain of glass tanks, and terrariums.

These were the smaller, living creatures I'd designed for certain purposes or found exceptionally useful, such as a certain octopus with infinite regeneration of it's limbs. Several other creatures were brought along as well, especially ones who created certain useful compounds as byproducts of their biology. But the largest group was definitely the electric eels.

In a rather comic/cartoon fashion, the Doctor had engineered several dozen electric eels, each of whom produced thousands of time's what their real world counterparts could. Their tanks, in turn, resembled giant glass batteries with plugins on the side.

Pulling a small flashlight out of my pocket, I looked over all of the terrariums one by one, checking the feeding regulations for each individual organism, and making sure they had been fed recently. No point letting them starve to death after all.

Once that was done, I turned my focus back to the rest of the mutants sleeping around me.

After the programmers and Minotaur's, things got a bit messier. The only other defined group with more then three members was the aforementioned ground-dragon line. Otherwise? It was a mish-mash of dozens of small pockets of different mutants. All of them were either highly useful to setting up a base, or sentient/sapient beings.

I had unfortunately had to leave behind/put down a large portion of the HoE's inventory in order to make our escape. There was a part of me that felt like an amoral monster for it . . . and another that considered it a perfectly normal action. I was somewhat worried about that . . .

But now wasn't the time. Thanks to the Ground-Dragons, we'd managed to make it a dozen or so kilometers away from the HoE in a manner that would be difficult to track. But, that didn't mean we were safe. We needed to find a new location, soon, and preferably far away.

'In canon, Dr. Genus gave up, deserted his lab and went on to create the House of Takoyaki in city W.' I thought. 'Weather or not he'd tried to preserver resources like I am is debatable, but either way, he managed to build another faculty in the HoT's basement. One which likely had cloning faculties, considering how he had another Carnage Kabuto down there.'

'But did he manage that entirely on his . . . with only Armored Gorilla's help? The house of Takoyaki was in city W, which is only one district away. He may have choose that placement specifically so he could quickly move equipment . . . but then again, the H.A. would have been monitoring the area, so who knows.'

I sighed. 'It's not like it matters much what he did. What's important now is that we need a location to build a new base. Once we have a good location, it should only take us . . . two, maybe three weeks to be fully operational?' I frowned, starting to do calculations in my head, before cutting myself off. 'No, don't start counting your chickens before the eggs have been laid. Location . . . '

Part of me was tempted to do the opposite of what the original had done, and go to Z city, just to keep Saitama close. But, Monsters Association. Did not want to run into them when my strongest fighter was Armored Gorilla. AG was low demon at best without his armor, he couldn't handle treats like that. Even if I repaired his armor and gave it a few upgrades, he still wouldn't be a threat to dragons.

So, City Z was out. I needed somewhere relatively close, so I could move there semi-quickly, and easy to hide in. More specifically, easy to hid construction, in. And somewhere I get to with my nearly two-hundred mutants in tow without getting caught.

'The fastest way would be to hack a train-station, mess with the camera's and literally take the train. But, it would need to be a station that's not taking many, if any, passengers, so as to avoid getting reported. I can always use the Programmers to erase memories, but that's to slow for a group.'

'So, a freight train would be our best bet. One big enough that the extra weight doesn't effect them, and automated enough I could justify adding the few extra cars to hid my minions and equipment in . . . ' I felt the beginnings of a grin tugging at my features. I knew just the place.

It had been three days since the House of Evolution's abandonment. In that time, we'd made it roughly sixty miles, and were currently hiding out in/under a dense forest in the northern sections of the City X district.

Not wanting to be discovered, I'd had the GD division make a small maze of tunnels under one of the parts of the forest with the thickest canopy to serve as a low-quality base and living space. I was also making them do the majority of the hunting, not wanting there to be any chances of us being discovered. Many deer had found themselves sinking into the ground out of nowhere lately . . .

'I really, really need to find a way to reward those moles for all their hard work . . . '

Currently, I was waiting by a road five kilometers away from the camp, eye's on my wrist watch. Technically speaking I should have been paying more attention to my environment, seeing as there were bears in the area. But I'd know from the start I wouldn't, so I brought along one of my mutants, a giant, bipedal porcupine archer, known as quill-shooter, so I didn't feel like I was at risk.

Quill-shooter was roughly five feet tall, and almost four wide. His body was brown, with white quills that were roughly a foot in length. His arms were somewhat short and stubby, which was why he used a cross-bow instead of a draw-bow. His vision was actually somewhat poor, an unfortunate weakness for a ranged fighter, but between a pair of glasses and his keen hearing, he could still find a target well enough.

'Low tiger, at least durability wise. Offensive ability depends on the quality of his crossbow . . . '

"So, boss . . . ", the mutant in question broached me slowly, toying with the winding mechanism of their bow nervously. "You told me to come out here with you, but you didn't actually tell me what you were doing, so . . . why are we standing on the edge of a road again? I thought we were trying to avoid being seen."

I nodded, not taking my eyes off the road. "Yes, we don't want to wind up fighting any heroes. But, Armored Gorilla and the cleanup-crew are going to be getting back soon, and I wanted to meet them in person. Besides, I'm human, and you can pass as a strange bush. We shouldn't have any issues even if we are spotted"

" . . . is that why you covered me in leaves?"

"Yes."

"O . . . kay. How much longer?"

I glanced at my watch again. "Armored Gorilla tends to be very precis with his timing. He sad he'd be at the six kilometer sign at nine thirty four, which is . . . right now." I looked up at the dirt road again.

" . . . "

" . . . "

" . . . I don't see him."

"He'll be here soon, he would have called if . . . " I paused, putting one hand to my ear as I heard a rumbling in the distance. 'Yep, that's an engine . . . '

A few seconds later, cresting over a hill that partially blocked our view, came a large, very beat up camper trailer. Even though it was still a fair distance away, I could tell that the hoodie-wearing figure in the front-seat was absolutely massive. "Never mind." I glanced back at the Porcupine. "I'm pretty sure that's them. Stay here, but notch an arrow just in case."

Before Quill-shooter could argue, I stepped up to the side of the road and leaned against a tree, watching the camper as it drew closer.

Luckily, I was right, and it was Armored Gorilla behind the steering wheel. As soon as he saw me, he began to slow down and pull over, bringing the camper to a complete stop only a few steps away from me.

The trailer shook for a moment, before the drivers side door opened, allowing the large figure of the sentient ape to pear out. "Dr. Genus." He greeted me, squeezing carefully out of the comparably small door. "It's good to see your unharmed. I trust that the others are nearby?"

I nodded. "Yes, they're about five kilometers that way." I pointed my thumb over my shoulder. "I assume you and the cleanup-crew made it back safely?" I asked in turn, getting a return nod.

"Yes, sir. We recovered and disposed of the remains of the deceased members of the house . . . with the exception of Mosquito-girl. We unfortunately have no idea how far her body flew, and therefor forewent searching for it." He bowed his head.

I frowned. "Unfortunate, but likely necessary. We don't have the time or resources to focus on recovery for the moment. You made the right call. Now, get the others out and follow me, I need your help for the next phase of our plan, and I'd like to explain it was we walk."

Me and the mutants were stronger, and a bit faster than your average fit human, but it still took us an hour and a half to make it back to the encampment over the un-even terrain. During that time, I discussed my plan with A.G., and determined how viable it was, and what tweaks were necessary to make it work.

It took us a few minutes of back and forth to work out the kinks, and refine the concept, but in the end, we had a working model we were confident with.

All that was left was to explain it to everyone else . . . which, of course, lead to me standing in front of a large crowd of mutants trying my best to fall back on the Doctors persona, lest my fear of public speaking get the better of me.

I cleared my throat. "First of all, I'd like to thank all of you for the hard work you've been doing over the past few days. All of you, especially the Ground-Dragon line, have been working hard to preserve our House of Evolution. For that, I thank you." I bowed to them for a moment, before straightening out.

"However. It is far to soon to begin celebrating just yet. At the moment, we are entirely reliant on stealth for the sake of survival. We have no defenses, and no means of creating new defenses. In light of that, I believe that we can all agree that our first priority should be acquiring a new base of operations."

"The requirements for this base are thus. It needs to be big. It needs to have numerous resources readily available, or be easily reached to deliver said resources. And finally, the construction should be discrete. After all, surveillance tech is far more widespread than when we built the first house over a decade ago due to constant Mysterious Being attacks."

"In light of that, I have concluded that the best place to build our next base . . . is inside D city."

For a moment, there was silence. Then there was a subdued roar of confusion as various mutants began to mutter, argue and even occasionally yell. I suppose I should have payed more attention to what they were saying, but it was such a mess I could barely make out individual words. Ultimately, it was easier to predict feelings from the expressions and body-languages visible.

Most of the mutants seemed nervous, from the way they were carrying themselves. Others were confused, and yet others angry. Some looked like they had no idea what was happening. My clones, at least, seemed to be deep in thought or discussing the plan with each other.

After about eight seconds of this uproar, a Badger-like mutant stepped forward and held up their hand/claw. "You mean the D-City district or, well, the city itself."

I raised an eyebrow. "The city itself." And now they were yelling. It took nearly a full minute before they calmed down this time, during which I sat back and let my clones do the heavy lifting of quieting the mob.

Once they were all back to waiting, I continued. "As you may know, D-City was recently demolished by a high tier dragon class mysterious being, who was labelled "Beef-cake" after the fact." I brought up an image of Marugori's quarter kilometer tall corpse.

"Between casualties from the attack, and people simply deciding to move in the after math, the city is currently at less than five percent of the population it was a mere month ago, and estimates put it as being a full decade before repairs are finished, and another three before the population recovers."

"In other words . . . " I turned to face the crowed again. "Transport trucks moving into and out of the city will be the norm for the next ten years. Construction crews are everywhere with heavy machinery. The area will be so loud we would barely need to be subtle about building an underground base. And finally, the hero presence is minimal. In short, I believe that city D meets all the prerequisites for a base."

"I understand that many of you may be a bit shifty at the idea of living so close to a large human population-"

"Understatement!" One of the more humanoid mutants roared.

I ignored the outcry. "-but it is my belief that the benefits outweigh the risks . . . and, that in the case of discovery, that this location will lower the chances of attackers deciding to simply blow things up for convenience like last time."

"Also, the Hero's Association has proven in the past to be horribly slow with the deployment of heroes in the past, especially high ranking ones, and to city's outside of the hero's usual range. Thus, it is my opinion that we, even as we are, could hold out for several hours without casualties before someone dangerous appears, giving us plenty of time to escape. Of course, the creation of an effective escape route will take precedence over even the reconstruction of a lab, or even living quarters. Have no doubts, I have your safety in mind."

"Now, unless you have any questions, I will explain our method of transport to city D." I folded my arms behind my back and counted to ten. It seemed that my creations, weather do to not knowing what to ask, or not being used to being able to ask, couldn't think of anything.

Once I was certain no one had any questions, I stepped to the side and waved over two mutants(One an owl and the other a wild-dog of some sort) as they carried out the terminal of one of the computers I'd had brought with us. Though none could see it, the wiring was attached to one the electric eel tanks.

Turning on the screen, I brought up a display of the continent I'd prepared in advance. "We, are here." I declared, tapping on the X city district, specifically, the very edge. "The very edge of the X city district. And our destination, is here." I zoomed out and highlighted D city, which was almost half a continent away. "As you can see, there is far to much land to cover between us to cover on foot safely. Therefor, we need a mode of transportation."

I zoomed in on the map, bringing into view the roads and train-lines criss-crossing the map. "Obviously, following roadways is out of the question unless we get out hands on a convoys worth of transport trucks. And while that is, in fact, an option, it's one I doubt we could pull off without arousing suspicion."

I zoomed in on a single point on the map, only a few dozen Kilometers from out current position. "Therefor. I've focused my efforts on railways. It took a few hours of searching, but I managed to find exactly what we were searching for." With that declaration, I zoomed in even further, until one could see individual buildings.

"Luckily for us, the construction in D city requires materials, and lots of them. Specifically, concrete. And concrete, needs sand. And we are on the very edge of the ocean." I smirked. "Now, in order to make concrete, not just any sand will do. It needs to be water worn sand, or else the grains won't stick properly.

"This is a train-station, where sand gathered off of the coast of the X district is loaded into cars and shipped straight off to city D."

Watching my fingers fly across the keyboard in front of me was . . . somewhat surreal. "I" had never even learned how to ten-finger type, but now? I was writing computer code at a rate that would put most professionals to shame, producing a new line of data being created every second. I hadn't known much about programming either . . .

As time went by, acts like that were becoming more and more "normal", as I adjusted to memories and abilities that I didn't feel were my own. But I couldn't say it was a bad thing. Just odd. And it was an oddness I needed to adapt to fast, I didn't exactly have the time to waist.

'I want to do . . . something, about the threats coming in the near future. Sure, Saitama stops most of them, but there are still going to be plenty of casualties. I've seen "beef-cake's" estimated body-count after all. They're still finding and identifying bodies over there . . . ' I shook my head and frowned, trying to stay focused on my programming. I failed. 'But what? What can I do? . . . '

The first "threat", so to speak, would be the paradises, but I was pretty sure they never actually got anyone killed except themselves. Just smashed some buildings. I could ignore them. Same with the meteor. I had no options even if there was a point. Canonically, there were no casualties except buildings. The sea-folk? As far as I was aware, their only accomplishment was scaring some people and beating up some heroes, all of whom survived.

No, the first attack that would harm more than peoples wallets would be the attack on A city during the alien invasion arc. Needless to say, the largest city on the planet getting bombarded out of existence from orbit was bound to have casualties in the millions.

'All I need to do to stop that is make sure Tatsumaki knows what's coming before it happens though . . . so how do I do that without incriminating myself?' I sighed. It was such a simple problem, with such a simple answer. The issue was, I either came off as a crack-pot and got ignored until it was to late, or risked giving off the impression I called them here. 'I'll have to find an observatory, take over it, and make sure the telescopes pick up the ship in time to warn the HA. At least, that's the simplest option.'

I sighed. Of course not even getting fused into the body of a super-genius would be enough to improve my focus. I pushed up my glasses and massaged my eyelids for a moment, before getting back to typing code.

Assuming that everything went right with my "Move to D City" plan, it would be roughly two weeks before we were ready to start working on more experiments. During that time, Armored Gorilla would be the strongest force we had protecting us. Obviously, he was more than sufficient as a defense, being rated as a demon class monster . . . but that was only accounting for "normal" situations.

There were far to many "demon" class monsters who were going to pop up in the near future, and while I doubted I'd encounter any of them, they did highlight the actual issue. Only the top five percent of demons could realistically expect to defeat an S class hero. Beast King had been in that top five. AG? Not so much. At the moment even Puri-puri prisoner could defeat him, and the bloody serial rapist hadn't had his post sea-king character development.

In short, I needed a weapon who could fight off an S-class hero in the event of a conflict with the H.A. I needed to either clone, or design such creature, and I was . . . conflicted.

I needed something powerful, but at the same time, I needed something that wouldn't be eager to start fights with humans. After all, I was trying to steer the H.o.E. Away from conflicts with the human species, so I needed something willing to work with humans if it became necessary.

But . . . was it right to just . . . make a living creature as a tool?

I felt like it depended on the intelligence of the creature in question, dogs were breed for a purpose after all. But I didn't think a non-sentient/sapient creature would be a good fit against professional monster-killers who knew how to abuse instinct. I needed to make them intelligent enough to qualify as a person.

Ignoring whether or not that was moral(or how I seemed to be desensitized to the concept) there was the issue of . . . empathy. Most of the not-so-good Doctors creations lacked a certain element of empathy. Of course, this was partially by design, Genus was planning a genocide against humanity after all.

But, he had never actively made his mutants more violent than they were upon completion. So, how much of the mutants personality were dictated by nature, and how much was nurture?

Obviously, the insect's like mosquito-girl and Carnage-Kabuto had been sadistic to the point of being dangerous to even their "allies", but could they have learned to be better? Was it worth the risk of trying? Was it safer sticking to, say, mammals? Both Beast King and Gorilla were quite capable of being polite and friendly when they wanted to be, but they also weren't really big on showing mercy . . .

' . . . against an enemy they knew they had been raised to fight.' I sighed.

How much of the psychology of the mutants was influenced by the non-human elements, and what could I do to ensure that they were capable of developing into something that wouldn't be outright hostile to humanity? Would it be best to just use the DNA of animals that were notably emphatic to begin with?

Of course, powerful and emphatic rarely coincided. The best I could do would be pack bonding. And even emphatic animals could be quite cruel by human standards. But humans could also be quite cruel and sadistic, terrible in ways animals couldn't even think to be. Was their even a point to worrying about it?

I moaned, beginning to massage my forehead as I felt the beginnings of a familiar headache, programming forgotten for the moment.

Dr. Genus had already crossed that line. Dozens of times. Dozens of dozens. But I wasn't him, no matter what my memories said. I needed to answer my quandaries.

'Can my any of my mutants display empathy?' It was a question I'd been pondering for days at this point. They could certainly work together. Get along unprompted. Build friendships. But, at the same time, I couldn't remember ever seeing them show signs of mourning at their allies deaths. Disappointment and depression, yes, but mourning?

'Emotional bonds . . . empathy . . . morality . . . I can't rely on creatures lacking these kinds of things. Their are enough creatures of that sort popping up already. I can't go making monsters. I need to make people.' I was going in circles, mentally repeating the same topic. Over and over again, I thought, I doubted, I dreaded . . . but I'd already made up my mind.

I had already decided that I would do it. Already planned out just what I was going to make. What line of creature's I would use as the foundation for their biology. What changes I would make to the resulting brain-chemistry in an attempt to foster empathetic behavior in them. How I was going to treat them, how I would raise them, and how I would try and control them. I had already planned out everything.

I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. Then another. Then another. Opening my eyes, I looked over the project I'd spent the last three hours working on. Spinning on the screen in front of me, was the image of a semi-bipedal skeleton.

At a press of a button, I watched the skeleton bend and flex it's way through several posses. Another button, and the skeleton was covered in muscles, which continued the strange dance. A third, and I could see internal-organs. A fourth, nerves and brain. A fifth, and a layer of skin and fur.

Racing down the side of the screen were line after line of data, showing me everything I couldn't see with my eyes. The durability of the materials the body was made of, from bone to muscle fiber to tendon, the calorie intake necessary to maintain and power them, the resulting twitch speed of the muscles, the weight, and the final outcome . . . all of it.

'You'll be demon class.' I thought in equal parts dread and anticipation. 'Faster than Beast King, and almost as strong. Less durable, but only because of your size. You wouldn't loose a fight against him.' I swallowed thickly, an anxious energy making my fingers tremble.

They would be a masterpiece. My masterpiece. Not Dr. Genus's. Mine. But would I be able to actually pull it off? And if I did, could I actually control them? Genus had specifically avoided making mutants with this family of organisms out of fear they'd be . . . unruly. And now I was about to outright make something from scratch, instead of using the (slightly) more natural processes that the Doctor had favored.

Dr. Genus had preferred to take already existing organisms and then make slowly start making controlled mutations using various chemicals and viruses. What I was doing would be more akin to planning out a creature, designing their DNA, then growing them using the same process as my clones.

To be blunt, there were many risks involved, but the end result would get results far faster than the more stable mutation method. And I needed it to be fast. The Monster Association arc would likely be within the next six months, and that, I wanted to get involved in. But, well. Over a dozen Dragon Class monsters, and at least twenty demons. I'd need a lot of muscle, even if I could convince the Hero's Association I was on their side.

In other words, I was jumping off the deep end in unknown waters, all for the sake of meeting a deadline. It was a potentially horrible idea, and I knew it was, but . . . 'I don't want to just sit back.'

I did not believe I was a cruel man. But, as I was, my curiosity, desire to create, and selfish wish to insert myself into future events was overriding my better judgment. I could only pray my selfishness didn't result in a catastrophe.

"Dr. Genus." I voice drew my attention away from the screen. It was Armored Gorilla, now fully repaired, and even lightly upgraded from his prior load-out. "We are almo-"

"Ichirou." I cut him off with a shake of my head. "Call me Ichirou. We've know each other long enough you should at least be able to use my first name."

A.G. Froze for a moment, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. "I . . . what?"

I rolled my eyes. "I am giving you permission to call me by my first name after having known each other for years, Armored Gorilla. Don't pretend that this is some extreme thing. I've simply decided to stop emotionally distancing myself from my creations. Now, you were saying?

He coughed into his fist. "Of course. Dr. G-Ichirou, we're almost ready to head out."

"You've hacked the train systems and construction companies?"

"Yes." He nodded. "The next train heading for D city will have six empty cars attacked due to a faulty order, and experience a delay along the way. Just before the train leaves with it's load of sand, the security cameras will all be set unto a loop, giving us two minutes to get unto the train, and cover our tracks."

"And you've ensured we won't be seen by the work-crews?"

A.G. Smirked, giving me a thumbs up. "There will only be two workers on the train to begin with. The train will come to a stop just inside the city limits, inside of the area still filled with debris from the city's destruction, giving us plenty of material to cover out escape hole. Worse case scenario, we knock them out, erase their memories with the Programmers and leave them knocked out in the front with some empty beer cans."

I sighed in relief, nodding. "Good. Good. You've done well, Armored Gorilla." For a moment, I considered promising him a reward at a later date, but decided that would be a bit too out of character for the moment. Instead, I settled for a brief statement of thanks.

"Thank you. Your skills have proven vital for our continued survival." I smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder as I stood up, closing the computer and setting it aside. "Now then . . . let's begin."

AM: So, I finished the first three thousand words of this chapter in the first two days after I posted the last one . . . then I had an anxiety attack and didn't touch it for like, two weeks. Sorry. To make up for it, I decided to make it as long as possible before the third week ended. So, if this feels more like three short chapters condensed into one, that's why.

Also, I am now up to date with the manga(for the most part). I think Fuhrer Ugly officially has the highest kill count for named characters thus far . . .