Raid-Boss Wishomoppu (5)

Do you know about that moment, shortly before death when your life flashed across your eyes? Lemme just say I've seen my life countless times by now.

The big attack, darkening out every last bit of sunlight made its way downward reeeeeaaaaaly slooooooooowly. If only it was as fast as potential readers dropping my story once they had lost any interest in it.

Seriously, did you guys do not like this story or were you just doing that to be immortalized in my story? Simply leaving a comment would certainly be a lot easier to get a bit of internet fame.

Otherwise, you find yourself held hostage by a meteoroid that would only hit its target if this story finally got more than 40 collections. Given the speed this novel grew at... it was just a matter of time before it would ruin these lands.

Time here meant decades of "quality writing".

Did you guys want another walking simulator situation? Because that was how we got another walking simulation. Although, this time I was not alone in this hell─close to me there was the exposition dude still happily explaining whatever entered his peanut-sized brain.

Yet, this fight had turned from an epic, world-ending fight to a game of twiddling your thumbs. The Beeg Psycho had lost any bit of interest as well and began to flex his muscles again.

Wishmoppu was holding a whole whopping villain speech in the sky, but ain't nobody was listening.

The content of the speech would probably be the usual stuff those B-tier bad guys said in their speeches.

Something, something you could never stop me, my empire was totally not going to crumble, I enjoy watching you die, stop struggling, do you want to extend your car's warranty? You knew, what all these people tend to say when the author needed to pat the word counter.

Of course, any self-respecting writer would also insert a backstory, which made absolutely no sense.

He ate my last cheesecake; thus I began to become the number 1 villain to never let bullies eat someone else's cheesecake ever again. Acts of terrorism were needed so that these animals could learn not to take food from others.

Giving children bomb vests was a totally appropriate measure to ensure that people would respect others. This could never blow up in our faces, we were the "good guys" after all.

Spoiler alert, this did blow up in their faces cuz somehow society did not like the fact, that children could become meaty fireworks. Rest assured, all these children reached the age of 18 and lived happily until they decided to blow themselves into bits and pieces.

Nothing said good childhood more than indoctrination and an explosive 18th birthday party.

People were going to talk about this event for many years to come. All of your friends would come together and turn this celebration into a night one should never be able to forget. There was absolutely no way it could bomb... without pressing the detonation button, I mean.

Y'all must know me by now. My writing was not all about sunshine and unicorn farts. If you want a happy story, I suggest finding another story... or a faster attack.

At this very moment, everything had gone down the drain. These naked fusions of mine had all grown bored out of their mind and started to fight each other again. Who needed a reason anyway?

The death counter rose once more and the Wishmoppu somehow passively gained XP from these guys killing each other again. Don't ask how, why, or what XP even meant? I had no idea either way.

The only reason I realized this connection was the distant ding sound, typical for the level-up notifications.

Ever since the battle-royal had started a constant stream of these ding sounds terrorized my mind.

Somehow fused clones were even more prone to die from something stupid and deliver these delicious experience points to Wishmoppu directly. Powering up your enemy was certainly a bold strategy, but these battle maniacs did so in a heartbeat.

Whether they consciously decided to fuck themselves over or they simply instinctively found the method that decreased their chances of winning did not matter. As long as they would get a better enemy they would do their utmost to strengthen them.

Guess why our Beeg Psycho occasionally "steps" onto the other clones while flexing his muscles?

These terrible accidents made the Mop stronger; need I say more? Of course, I was not implying that the Dude was doing it on purpose─way too dumb for that. All I was pointing out was that the battle was far from over...

Now, excuse me while I wait 3000 years for that meteor to finally crash down.

.....

Sooo, you guys come here often? Catch-question, I have no readers just bots that wait for my chapters to be updated. Sadly, these bots did not leave any helpful comments either.

Hence, it was up to poor old me to entertain my audience again till the meteor had decided to finally grace us, mortals, with its presence.

Yet, somehow it must suffer from severe anxiety issues otherwise the skill would not be like a fat man on a treadmill─moving hypnotically slow. Seriously, it might as well be moving backwards. Which the Meteor of Filthiness promptly did.

You gotta be kidding me, why did this stupid thing move backwards? Without saying a single word, it moved further away yet again.

Oh come on, was it because I kept on throwing around insults?

You couldn't tell me that such a big, strong METEOR had low self-esteem. Why would such a splendid, awesome, fearless, perfect being be affected by cheap lies from my side?

My kiss-ass tactic worked splendidly and the tsundere stopped backing off. The only difficulty lay in getting this bulky motherfucker to finally plunge down onto the Endless Vomitlands.

And it backed off again.

These dangerous attacks were clearly just too lazy to do their work properly. That's what one got when giving sentience to inferior beings. Using kids' puke─a rookie mistake....only the vomit from alcoholic parents was capable of driving such a massive thing to the ground.

Not such a weak-ass pansy meteoroid thinking he could be playing with the big boys here. Go home and cry to your fat kid-puke mom and never show yourself here ever again.

And the vomit-comet left and was never seen again. Phew, how lucky I had been because I would never would have survived being crushed and pissed my pants in sheer fear of its sheer size.

And the vomit-comet was seen again. This time coming towards me at a much higher speed.

Okay, I did not expect it to be a sadist...