DemonKingAkuma

My name is [REDACTED]. 

I was just a normal, job-seeking guy who had just finished his undergraduate study and was hopeful of becoming a useful member of society. However, the job market in this current economy was quite harsh, and competition was at an all-time high. Thus... I remained unemployed for almost half a year.

As usual, I was on a job hunting spree, hoping to finally find or land a job that would hire the poor me. 

However, fate had other plans for me... and I died, getting run over by a large truck.

I thought I was dead, but... I soon woke up inside a test tube, surrounded by white-coated scientists in a dimly lit laboratory. I was confused, as I realized that my body, from head to toe, was covered with some sort of dark material that fit my skin quite tightly, as if I was wearing a skin-tight suit from a superhero comic. But... I wasn’t a superhero.

“Good morning, Subject... No... Grunt No. 703.”

I was just one of the supervillain's Grunts.

Reincarnated as a Grunt No. 703

All around us, grunts of varying sizes and appearances encircled the three of us. They all looked at us with menacing glares, as if we had just stumbled into a gangster den... and it was mostly like that.

I had already assumed that this sudden arena ring, complete with an announcer and commentator, plus an actual betting pool system being collected right now, was part of an organized movement aiming to monetize the conflict within our grunts' community.

It felt too organized to be just a simple fun times. It felt... like a faction's movement... and most likely, this 'Arena Ring' faction wasn't the only one that existed within our ranks of grunts.

Were they the ones who sowed conflict between No. 727 and No. 745? While I might have thought that those two were like water and oil, I didn't think that they had resorted to extreme violence so quickly... or was there something that I missed between the two of them that caused this chaos?

Karate Grunt