Hello, everyone. Say hello to this wholesome chapter. This is my favorite thus far and I enjoyed writing it even though our uni is still conducting online classes in the middle of a pandemic. My god. Covid just hit our country last month and our profs are giving us community assignments. Ass. Anyways, I hope you guys are safe, your families too.
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"You and the others are designed to be heroes."
Well, that's a shocker. An opportunity to do good deeds. Be the kind hero, saving innocent lives and making a difference in the name of justice weren't exactly what I planned for a career. But, I'll have to say this. It's tempting. Rather than have everyone look at me like a ticking time-bomb, about to point a knife at some poor unsuspecting soul, it's nice when I get to be treated as a human again. As human as I can be with this shit appearance.
"Please." I drawled, putting my least interested face into show. After all, I can't show this man how it captivated my attention. "Your design of heroes is appalling. I almost gave an old lady a heart attack once."
That was a true story. It happened on my first month, trying to hold my invisibility as long as I could when a cat startled me. The stupid feline hizzed and clawed at my leg. Good thing my regeneration was instant or I would have found myself panicking about cat-borne diseases. But a 60-year old woman saw me sprinting towards her. For the record, I was running away from the cat and had no bad intentions. Well, "bad" was a word I'd use loosely because I might have left her alone clutching her chest when I rounded the corner.
Not exactly hero material now am I?
"While I agree that my creations were not attractive to the crowd, they're meant to last longer than an average human." Dr. Genus adjusted his glasses and looked back at where the battle occurred. "The mortality rate of B and A class heroes are quite high since the nature of their job requires exceptional skill and power, but if you take a good look at our current heroes only a few could save our world from dragon level threats."
My eyes followed the doctor's line of vision. Carnage Kabuto's remains left an ugly stain on the pristine white tiles where Saitama and Genos stood. The younger one lifted a piece of paper and probably said something.
Those two. I forgot disasters are categorized differently here. Monster attacks are more frequent than natural ones, and sometimes calamities like super typhoons were brought into existence by… you guessed it. Monsters. Saitama may look human and act like one but I know from the show that his punch could disrupt the weather. If he were a threat, no hero - genetically modified or blessed with god-like powers - could stop him.
"Carnage Kabuto is easily a Dragon level threat." He continued, "I had him locked down here because my informant says only King and Tatsumaki can put a stop to his bloodlust."
The mention of more familiar characters had me raise an eyebrow. Their ranks might have been lost in my mind but I remembered those two. Tatsumaki, I can understand. She's terrifying. King? I snorted.
The sound got his attention back to me.
"I'd classify you as Tiger level but you're still young."
My lips dropped into a frown. I was 23 goddammit. And been drinking alcohol since 17. It's not my fault I ended up in the body of a teenager.
"And you're an old man. Grandpa." That brought out an amused chuckle from him. Whatever he's going to add next was interrupted because Saitama run as if he's feeling from the devil itself. Clouds of dust gathered in my line of sight as he passed us with Genos following at his heels.
Seriously, those two.
The doctor looked at me for an answer. His face wrinkled in concentration as he gazed back at their figure, growing smaller by the distance. When he revealed that he was monitoring me from afar, I knew his mind already associated me with Saitama, and to an extent, Genos as well despite our shaky relationship.
Shrugging, I waved my hand somewhat brushing his confusion away, "I don't exactly understand those two. But they're okay people."
"You mean —"
"Don't try anything funny okay!" That's what I mean. Saitama is a wonderful specimen in the eyes of scientists alike lusting for information behind his abilities, and this person before me is not just your second-rate nerdy man of science. He's a Mad one. Capital "M" because who clones himself so his research could go on forever?
"But he was —"
I pointedly glared at him in challenge. "But his apartment got thrashed. Is that what you're going to say?"
"No. Listen Toxic you should —"
That name is absurd. My soul internally shrivelled up and died. "You should pay up. Don't you know the cost of housing these days?" I have no idea how much apartments cost in Japan, much less in this world. "Saitama is struggling enough with money matters. And you're a rich guy. At least pay for the damage you've done."
"Fine!" Oops. Hit a nerve, did I?
Dr. Genus and I found ourselves in front of Saitama's apartment. The streets were deserted as usual, dark since most street lights fell from the destructive cyborg dance showdown earlier. It took awhile for us to leave his building, gathering all the money he has left and saying goodbye to his office. Believe it or not, the doctor grew emotional attachment for his research. Literally honest to God tears were shed, and here I thought he was some no-good villain person with shady morals.
Tonight was a cold one. I waited for him to take a step, or knock on the door, or just saying anything along the lines of "I am deeply sorry. Here's my wad of cash as apology". Nope. A minute passed, and then five minutes later I was starting to feel the cold seep into my bones. Aren't chameleons cold-blooded? Something about faulty temperature regulation makes reptiles hate low temperatures, so it's probably bad for my health. Unfortunately, my special condition is unique, granting me inconsistencies and headaches. Who knows, maybe my acid spit came with fire properties and I'd be a dragon. That would be fun.
Speaking of abilities, I have yet to ask Dr. Genus regarding his unfinished business with yours truly.
"Sooo." There's only so much I can do without having my patience wear thin. If you're wondering why I won't just brave in and knock, that's because Dr. Genus asked me not to. Apparently, he was determined to have a conversion with Saitama where his 'nerves' doesn't hinder his progress?
Whatever.
"You're certain that I won't gain any significant information from him?"
I sighed. My shoulders sagged from exhaustion. First was the assault from the Beast King. Second was the sudden realization that the canon had gone down the drain! And finally, this. I can deal with aggression and arrogance. Those kinds of attitudes where common here, especially coming from high standing, are very important individuals like Dr. Genus. However, confidence issues and uncertainty were a far cry from where I was used to.
"Yes. Yes. You won't even like the answer he'd give."
"There must be something. No human can destroy my creations in just one punch."
"I knooow. Crazy right." He seemed to hold us high in his assessment. I mentally shrugged. That's what happens when you get cooped up for too long, I guess.
"It could be a drug enhanced from a meteor?"
Pulling my face back, I balked "That thing exists?"
"He could be a robot with human skin. Somebody intelligent like Bofoi certainly can achieve such an amazing feat." He wasn't listening. Gone again with his theories.
"Maybe his parents have genes out of this world, and he was blessed with a mutant type DNA which made him different from the rest of his species." This guy is starting to weird me out. He was good with pleasant conversations, but the moment it steered towards science heavy topics — he's a lost cause, drabbling like a mad man he is. I have to admit, though he may be drabbling like the man he is, this side of Dr. Genus was kind of endearing.
"Or a curse. He was cursed with superstrength so he won't be able to hold someone dear to him."
"WOULD YOU SHUT UP!"
Saitama greeted us with hostility reserved for people who walk slowly. I'm hurt, for real.
"You are disturbing master's dinner. Leave before there be consequences."
Ah. Genos. Ass.
Beside me, Dr. Genus stood still. Either he was scared, being in Saitama's bad graces does that, or stupefied when it shone like a well-polished floor. I told him it's a perfect night for moon gazing but no, he didn't listen.
I punched him lightly. Waking him up from stupor. The curious glint in his eyes came back, a bit milder than before which is a good sign really. It tells me that he'd refrain from doing something drastic.
"Is hair loss the price you paid for power?"
Our reactions were… varied. The color on my face got two shades darker as I tried keeping the bubble of laughter from escaping. Genos had an intense staring match with the back of Saitama's head. And the person of interest — sported a dark look.
Thankfully, the doctor was smart and acted appropriately. By unlocking the suitcase he carried. "This is compensation for your ceiling."
And just like that, Dr. Genus avoided the terrible product of his curiosity and tactlessness. "You should've done that before we left." Saitama eyed the yen arranged neatly in rows. Despite his words, he looked happier. I could tell that his train of thought was going to the grocery sale.
There was a pause, Dr. Genus must be wanting to hear more from Saitama, before continuing "The money is more than enough. You'll have it all if you take my child under your tutelage."
"What?!" Genos and I both asked. Prissy cyborg doesn't want to share, I see. Not that I have anything against fraternizing with the protagonists but him claiming that I am his offspring blew my mind. I'm nobody else's child!
"Master is a very busy man." Genos started to mumble, cupping his chin with a contemplative look on his eyes, "He was reluctant to have me. Between teaching, eating, cleaning the apartment and going on a supply run he has a lot on his schedule."
Tch. You call that a lot?
"I am not asking much." Dr. Genus gestured in my direction. "He needs a place to stay and with heroes who can protect him. If the cash is not enough, perhaps…" Based from his movements, he was reaching for the back pocket where his wallet most likely sat. I exhaled heavily through my nose, pissed on how he's treating Saitama. Sure, that man can be dense at times, gullible at most but never naive.
"...debit card could?"
"Sure. That's what heroes would do."
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It was decided that I would live with them tomorrow afternoon. We've intruded into Saitama's humble, micro apartment late at night so now Dr. Genus and I were staying in a nearby hotel.
Honestly, I feel conflicted. It's awkward talking to someone who considers me a son, without being related. I understand how Dr. Genus felt attachment to his studies, him being passionate about genetics is obvious okay, but he doesn't appear to be the type of man who'd risk having emotional ties to experiments. After all, experiments take numerous trials before it comes out perfect thus possessing clinical apathy is kinda a requirement. It's hard for me to accept that he effortlessly jumped from stalking mad scientist to a dad who's willing to design clothes for me since he knew complete invisibility is only achieved when I take all of my clothes off. Underwear included.
On the other hand… no longer would I starve. It's paradise where I get homemade meals from now on. And let's not forget: warm water! Also, human interaction. Boy, I suffered for two months without any social contact and the paranoia lingering at the corner of my mind did not help at all.
Looking at a logical view, this is definitely for my best interest. I'd have safety, food, and possibly training.
But here's the catch.
"Listen here Toxic." That blasted name again. Every time I hear it, I suppress a cringe.
"Please don't call me that."
Armored Gorilla, who lost all of this shiny armour, sat on a twin-sized bed. The poor furniture carried his weight and looked about seconds from collapsing asked, "What would you like to be called?"
Hmm. That's a difficult question. They should have given me enough time to properly think of some nice name preferably partnered with a nice meaning like I wanted, but Dr. Genus had his eyes narrowed, expecting a reply. He already looked the part of an exasperated father.
So with a roll of my eyes, I said "Just call me Yamori." There, that's it. A fitting name.
"Great. Yamori. You didn't expect I'd hand you to Saitama that easily no?"
"I wasn't expecting anything! I thought you wanted to know more about his powers."
"You said I'd be disappointed." True, but Dr. Genus was insistent on getting an answer. Heck, he even repeated the same question thrice. There's nothing more to be said than: a hundred push ups and sit-ups and I think ten kilometer run… So what changed?
"I had a contract with the Hero Association. They fund my projects as long as I provide them heroes. One of them is Zombieman and his abilities landed him on Rank 8, S-Class." I could hear the pride coming of this guy, but that immediately vanished as he continued on."They wanted another like him, 'a man that even in death cannot die'."
My stomach suddenly churned, clearly upset at the turn out of events. I don't recall my zombies in the anime much less a hero who could cheat death with extreme regeneration. However, if I turned out to be another version of Zombieman then…
"You'd carry all high-risk missions." Armored Gorilla supplied, his voice grim, "Missions where human death rate is at hundred percent."
Absurd. There's no way a mission like that is possible.
They must've seen the reluctance in my eyes because both shook their heads. Dr. Genos sighed before turning his back on us. "It's called suicide mission for a reason Yamori. These can range from spywork for trigger-happy drug dealers to braving the smoky mountain."
The last part doesn't sound threatening. But then Dr. Genos came back with a manila folder in his hand. It was old, I could tell from the worn out corners and coffee stains. On it was a stapled picture of a gray mountain, yellow clouds surround its peak. I observed it closely. The photo looked old as well but its high-quality never faded. At the bottom of the mountain was a barren waste of land. I expected snow, or maybe some trees but there's no green in sight. Just yellow. I remember that shade. The same shade of yellow on the sclera of hepatitis patients whenever I come to record their vitals.
"This mountain is a no-man's land. The smoke, when inhaled, causes abrupt bronchoconstriction. That is if skin contact didn't kill you first. The particle stays on the equipment used by the researchers so you can imagine how easy it can harm another person and how hard it is to stay safe from whatever it is."
I nodded. Though, it's a hard pill to swallow, their concern for my well-being made sense.
"What should we do then?" My tongue felt like lead and my mind was swimming going through the harsh scenes of trauma-inducing missions as if that'll help desensitize me and I wondered how much will it take before I'll snap? This society lived in a monster-infested world. Battles are an everyday occurrence, nobody batted an eye. But me, I was raised in a peaceful environment. Imagining myself as this Zombieman fellow terrified me.
There's a warm hand on my head. The gesture was awkward so I know it's Dr. Genus. Heh. He must've felt the same way too because of his arm's rapid withdrawal.
He coughed. "The Hero Association doesn't know who destroyed my labs. I could play the part of the victim and let the HA think I was attacked. While you will remain under their radar."
"Boss. You think they'll believe you?" Armored Gorilla asked, placing a delicate finger on his chin, thinking deeply, "I have erased all CCTV footage of that day and burned all Yamori's files and some others. But still, they ought to investigate."
The overgrown monkey has a point. Technology of this era is superior to mine.
"Plan B then." The doctor turned serious as he gathered the smoky mountain file from my grasp, "You are an unfinished escaped experiment who I have to put down." The hairs at the back of my neck stood. Dr. Genus sounded like a real mad scientist who saw my defects as failures, and I as a lab rat to euthanize after serving its purpose. But no matter, if his intelligence lead to my creation and his willing to lie for my safety then why would I reject it? Armored Gorilla seemed fine with the idea, he trusts Dr. Genus perhaps its about time for me to ditch this suspicion.
"Okay!" I shouted in false cheer. "So just lay low right? What about you guys?"
"Act traumatized and open a takoyaki shop until I die."
"Im just a normal gorilla now."
"Normal gorillas don't talk."
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5/5/20
Reviews are appreciated.