DemonKingAkuma

[DROPPED]

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.

[STATUS: DROPPED]
Reason:
- Trash writing in general
- Pacing like a crippled snail
- Overall a misaligned of what I had envisioned in my head

Reincarnated as a Grunt No. 703

HIATUS. Not much to say here other than it's not working out.

HIATUS

"Professor! What are you doing to our grunt?! Knock it off!!!"

I could hear another woman's voice behind the intercom, screaming—possibly even nagging—at the woman I had been arguing with earlier. She even revealed the status of said previous woman that I had been beefing with by referring her as 'professor.'

Was she someone like that mad scientist Victoria...? Could she also be a dangerous villain...?

Well... the numerous turrets currently targeting me were pretty definitive proof that she was likely a villain. Fortunately, those turrets hadn't fired (yet), probably because the professor, intent on using them against me, was being stopped by the nagging woman.

I could hear them bickering through the intercom...

"Don't disturb me, No. 147! I'm trying to teach this loser of a grunt a damn lesson for daring to challenge me!"

'No. 147…?' The label number echoed in my head.

Getting some Gadgets at the Grunt Armory (2)