Choice #9 Chapter 1

After counting the votes, the winners of the fic choice are, in order, numbers 6 (Gamer fic), 7 (sequel to this fic) and 9 (Fate Homunculus fic).

This is the first chapter for the Fate Homunculus fic that was the ninth choice in my survey. See if this is good or not and tell me if you like it? Should I make this the first chapter to show the MC's character and flaws? Or should I keep the earlier sample chapter I showed you guys, the one where he straight up wakes up as the homunculus in a vat and has to figure stuff out. Because that will be the second chapter in this version.

Choice #6 and choice #7 Chapter 1s coming soon. All fics will be posted starting Sunday night.

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I stared at the dark, icy waters churning below with a cold indifference as I leaned on the ballisters of the golden gate bridge.

My plan ran through my head once more.

Down straight, arms tight, muscles relaxed, breath steady. It had taken three weeks of practice at a diving pool under a fake name to learn just these basics. And that's aside from over a month of careful planning.

Bribes had been sent, notes dispatched, threats and compromises made. The biggest political and state actors were on the move. The dominoes had begun to tumble. My plan was going to fall in place. Soon.

I let out a cold breath and watched it turn to mist as a smile spread over my face. This was the right place, the right time. The right temperature. The cold would preserve my life till the emergency services arrived.

Resuscitation was a 45 percent possibility in the worst case scenario. A calculated risk.

Now if only the goddamn cops could do the bare minimum and be on schedule.....

I sighed and checked the time for the third time this hour.

2 : 31 am.

The patrol was late.

I rocked at the edge of the stainless steel ballister, feeling the cold breeze cut against my skin. My hands were getting cold.

It was annoying to say the least, this whole thing. It could have been so much simpler. Would have been, if it hadn't been for that two-faced piece of shit I stupidly called a friend.

I mean, I knew he was a sociopath but I didn't expect he'd pull something like this for no reason at all.

I sighed.

After my parents died, I was raised my grandfather. He was a Cherokee but he refused to live a life of misery on the reservation. So he left and made a life for himself through sheer effort and cold intelligence as a business analyst. From a piss poor man with alcoholism issues to a disciplined millionaire in one lifetime. A true success story, rags to riches. He was my hero.

He instilled in me the same values as he raised me to be a man of science and logic.

And so, my friend's irrational, illogical actions caught me off guard.

Why make an enemy of me for so little gain? What was the point of it all? Did he not understand the simple cost benefit analysis of it all?

Just thinking about the whole thing made me furious.

I was no naive wallflower but to think he'd betray me for nothing but a sense of superiority and a whole fifteen minutes of fame.

Tch!

If it wasn't illegal I'd choke the life out of him myself.

Fortunately, I had a better plan. Well... arguably better, given it involves me jumping off the golden gate bridge in the middle of winter but hey, either way this goes, I won't be any worse off. He should've thought better than to drive me into a corner.

I ran a hand through my hair as another breeze hit me and I barely hung on.

Just then, I heard a car come to a screeching halt behind me as the sirens blared.

Aha! Finally, the cops were here.

Better late than never.

"Hey! You!" A cop called out.

There we go. Now for the coup de grace.

I brought a finger up to my eyes, laced with ghost pepper extract.

This was going to be painful, but worth it for the effect.

Rubbing it into my eyes I began to tear up as my eyes burned from the spice, red and fiery.

Just in time too.

The cops flashed their light onto my face and I put on an expression of practiced hopelessness, tear flowing down my eyes wordlessly. An oscar worthy act of I say so myself.

"Son, it's okay. We're here. Come down now. Let's get you help."

"No one can help me now." I said with a cracked voice as I broke into choked sobs.

The cop looked at me with a soft expression and I sneered inside.

Sucker.

Heheheheh.

Let's do this.

"Don't worry. It seems hard now but suicide isn't the-"

I didn't give him time to finish as I let go of the ballisters and fell back. The kindly old cop lunged forward, hands outstretched but it was too late.

The wind howled in my ears as I fell through the air and hit the water with a splash. The force of the impact almost knocked the air out of my lungs as the waves swallowed me, washing over me like a dry erase marker, wiping away all traces of me.

I sunk into the icy depths, air bubbling out of my bleeding nostrils.

Great. I fucked up the landing.

I let out a grudging sigh as I tried and failed to move my hands, still numb and sore from the impact.

A mild flash of panic coursed through me but I calmed myself. This was within the margin of error. Not ideal but it'd do.

In such times one is led to wonder.....

How did I get here? How did it all go so wrong? When did it all go wrong?

If I was some depressed doomer I'd probably say it was when I was born.

Fortunately, I'm awesome. Some people are born lucky, others are lucky to be born. I was the former. Great looks, good family, a sharp wit.

Not that it saved me from my very human flaws.

I knew exactly when it all went wrong.

It all went wrong the moment I trusted that little sociopathic shit to be a half decent friend.

I could feel my blood boil at the very thought of him.

Neal O'Reilly.

I met him the first time when I won a full-ride scholarship to the University Of California Berkeley for a business degree. He was another one of the scholarship winners, though one look at his application told me most of it was a clever fabrication. He lied to get the scholarship and he lied to get into everyone's good graces. A charming man to say the least, as all sociopaths tend to be. His good looks didn't hurt either. Not that I looked any worse, but he was just extra. Golden blond hair, piercing blue eyes, great bod, no homo.

I could have blown his charade right then and there. But I always believed in freedom and merit, the american way.

If he was smart enough to fabricate his way into a scholarship, he deserved to be here.

A mistake, I see now. Hindsight is always 20/20, no point in blaming myself.

Besides, my life was on track and I couldn't give less of a shit what others did with theirs.

It went without saying that once we were assigned the same room, we became fast friends, or so I thought.

We were always at the top of the Dean's list. I was first, he was a close second. Not once did he surpass me though, something that became a sort of chip on his shoulder. A festering resentment I was blind to.

He was always the more social type. He partied hard and I studied harder. I made connections and inroads yes - those were the real benefits of university, after all; jobs go to those with connections and not to those with merit, as much as I hate to say it - but he was always leagues better at it. As I said, sociopath. He was all natural at it. And I didn't exactly find human company agreeable.

The sheer stupidity I saw out there on a daily basis made me develop a healthy sense of misanthropy.

So the years passed, and graduation neared. The trend never bucked and I was on the cusp of success. Top of the Dean's list, about to graduate with full honors, a job offer from McKinsey in my hand. Life was good. Just one month ago. It was all so perfect. Too perfect.

And then, it happened. A girl accused me of sexual assault two days from the finals. It was laughable, of course. Not only was I utterly uninterested in her, and most other people, men and women alike, I also had proof of my innocence. I was in my room the whole night she mentioned the incident happening in, studying for the finals. Neal was with me. He knew. Naturally, I relied on his testimony.

And he betrayed me.

I grit my teeth as I recalled the whole incident.

It should have been obvious to me back then. The girl who accused me was one of the many hangers-on that revolved around Neal. He had planned this. Bastard had a literal harem, and all of them wanted to be the special one to him. No doubt that's what he promised her.

I chuckled darkly.

He wouldn't keep the promise though. I knew it because I had seen him pull it on another girl just the year before. She had paid off some of his debts for him in the hopes he'd give her the time of day. Worked her ass off for him too, she wasn't exactly rich. But he cast her aside like week old garbage the moment he had what he wanted. And I stood by, watching silently. It was none of my business, I told myself. He never promised her anything and if she got tricked, it was her own fault.

I never had a high opinion of women anyways, so it was easy for me to look the other way. It disgusted me now.

Reminded me of the old saying.

First they came for the artists and I did nothing because I wasn't an artist. Then they came for the singers and I did nothing because I wasn't a singer. And then they came for me and there was no one left to fight by my side.

Suffice to say, once the accusation was made, false as it was, I was expelled without due trial. McKinsey drew back their offer too. It was only later that I learnt Neal's real motives.

He had gotten an offer from McKinsey too. And quite like Bakugo, he wanted to be the only one from his batch to get in. He wanted that sense of superiority. And he pulled me down to get it.

Now if I was some average shmuck, I would have fallen into a spiral of depression and hopelessness, ruining my life further.

Too bad for him, I'm not your average shmuck. I will not tolerate this blatant injustice.

One does not simply fuck with me and get away with it.

Within me, where depression and helplessness should have been lay a cold, seething fury. A drive to pay him back, with interest.

And so began my month-long preparation for revenge.

I read through past cases, california state law, precedents and media trends, looked up relevant political offices and organizations and began my silent campaign against him as I lined up the dominoes to his utter downfall.

First, I got a lawyer. Thankfully, my grandfather had a part stake in a casino he had cashed out for my college funds before he died. The money had gone unused since I had gotten a scholarship and now was the time to use it. I hired the best lawyer I could get.

Then, came the pressure. When I executed my plan, I wanted to crush him, completely and absolutely with no avenue of retreat.

I had seen what had happened in the case of George Floyd. How the jury and judges had been pressured into a verdict by the mobs and the media.

In California especially, where the left ruled supreme, identity politics was the name of the game. And being a quarter native american I was higher on the totem pole of oppression than the all white irish playboy I was up against.

So, I gathered, fabricated and stole evidence, created a case of racism against not only Neal and his puppet but also against the university and McKinsey corp.

And being the painfully woke university it was, racism trumped sexism. I just held the better cards. All it would take was an accusation of racism, a couple of big stories on the media and they would flip a 180 to my side. Not that it would save them. I was going to sue them for all they were worth.

I planned on doing the same to McKinsey as well.

And with an attempted suicide, the accusation of a native american student being driven to suicide itself would ensnare sympathy from all sides of the aisle giving my cause more than just a head wind. It would catapult my case to national headlines. And when the mobs gathered and riots ensued, with the help of native american action groups and other anti-racist war dogs like the SPLC and NAACP, I would blindside them all.

And they would rue the day they fucked with me.

I let out chuckle and lost focus, instinctively taking a breath as water rushed into my lungs. I coughed hard to no avail. I flailed helplessly as my muscles ached and my consciousness grew dim.

Dammit!

Where are the emergency services when you need them?!

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Surprisingly, I didn't die.

For a moment there I thought I was going to get a one way trip to isekai land, but the paramedics saved my life in time. Just as planned.

Moreover, while I recovered in the hospital, my plans went into effect as my case was catapulted to national attention. I got the support of the left because I was native american and I got the support of the right because they could 'own' the left and go against the left wing excesses on university campuses. I even got the support of the silent majority for the injustice that had been done to me, and with the massive public and political backlash, Neal's life turned around for the worse.

Not only was his conspiracy revealed once the girl he used was put under questioning, he was also expelled from the University once I revealed his forged scholarship and a dozen or so girls accused him of sexual assault to save their skins. Meanwhile I was let back in, given a pass on the finals and fast tracked to graduation. McKinsey corporate offices ran patch-up and even paid for my medical expenses if I agreed to leave them out of the case and even offered me a higher position than before.

Most of all, the university got in hot water with the bureau of native american affairs as a result and had to fire their entire admin staff.

Finally, as all the dominoes fell into place, it was time for the official trial, which was all but guaranteed to end in my victory.

".....today it was my client. Tomorrow it could be a black kid or an asian kid these racists run out of the system, undoing a hundred years of progress. It spits in the face of the sacrifices our parents and grandparents have made to make this country great, mine and yours all the same. And it would reflect poorly upon us in the record of history, that generations to come will spit on us in shame and disgust if this trend comes to pass. It would stain our very american soul if we sit by the side with our thumbs in our mouths. All it takes for such injustice to take hold is for good men and women to do nothing. I have complete faith in the honorable members of the jury and I believe that they would never let such a grave injustice go unpunished as the sons and daughters of glorious americana!" My lawyer finished his piece to the applause of the court and stepped down as the judge brought down his gavel.

"Order, Order!" He yelled and the courtroom came to a still.

"There was no need for the flavor text, Mr. Buchiarati. Your client can rest assured, the accused will get what he deserves. Have some faith in the courts." The judge gave my lawyer a deadpan look.

"All I have is faith, your honor." My lawyer quipped as I suppressed a smile.

Tony Buchiarati. Bastard cost an arm and a leg but he was worth every last penny. I could see the dark and twisted look on Neal's face across the aisle, as if he had just swallowed a hundred pillbugs raw and suppressed a smile.

Ah~ The satisfaction of seeing the look in his eyes as his whole life falls apart is priceless.

And while I'm not one to take pleasure in the suffering of others, I'll make an exception this once because this revenge is sweet as ice cream.

"Very well. Jury, what is your decision." The judge turned to the bench.

They all looked at each other and almost unanimously nodded.

"Guilty."

The judge agreed.

"The court hereby sentences Neal O'Reilly to 15 years in federal prison, without parole, for the crimes of perjury, conspiracy to murder, attempted murder and sexual assault and entitles the defendant to a recompense of 1.4 million dollars, to be paid in full by the University of California Berkeley."

A cold light flashed through my eyes as I watched Neal crumble inside, and my lips curled up into a smile.

Just as planned.

And now, my revenge is complete.

As we walked out of the courtroom, I adjusted the cuffs on my suit and got ready to face the crowd of reporters outside, prepping my victory speech.

"Good job Tony. Saved my hide. You're worth every cent my man." I praised, patting his back.

"Well, don't sell yourself short now. The whole set-up and media manipulation you pulled is legendary. And you did it all alone at that. Honestly, you scare me a little." He admitted.

"Hm?"

I raised an eyebrow and gave him a confused look.

"Come on. You're cold, calculating, ruthless. And terrifyingly smart." He explained, "You bent a billion dollar corporation over your knee and spanked them into submission with just your words. You pulled the federal government into a civil suit. Not to mention UC Berkeley dropped two spots in the ivy league rankings this year. Most 24 year olds can't even file their taxes." He said with a hint of awe in his voice.

"I'm not 'most 24 year olds'." I replied.

"Yeah. You're almost a Bond villain in the making. No wonder McKinsey scouted you out." Tony teased.

"Why thank you." I said with a cheeky grin.

"Cheeky brat." Tony smiled, "If you need anything in the future, don't forget to give me a call."

"Certainly. I'll keep you in mind, Tony. I will no doubt have a hefty amount of competition to 'do away with' and you look like a guy who knows a guy."

"Oh, yeah, I have a guy for that." He nodded, handing me the card of a private investigator, "He's a professional cleaner. Digs up all the dirt, if you know what I mean."

I did.

I smiled.

"You know Tony, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful working relationship."

"Anything for you Monsieur Le Chiffre." He chuckled.

I rolled my eyes.

"Oof. Low blow, Tony. Low blow." I rubbed the edge of my eye on instinct. That fall had ruptured my conjunctivital varicose vessels and given me haemolacria. And with my square jaw and villainous good looks, I looked like the spitting image of a younger Mads Mikkelsen.

"And, fyi, Le Chiffre was hands down the best Bond villain, so I'll take that as a compliment." I huffed as we neared the gate.

I stopped for a moment to gather my thoughts and let out a sogh of relief as a huge burden lifted off my shoulders.

I won. I did it.

And now, outside a fresh new life awaited. Fame and fortune. Freedom. All I ever wanted.

I smiled.

This is it.

I took another step towards the door and made to grab the handle when a gunshot rang out behind me.

Tony fell to the floor with a thud, bleeding. He screamed in pain as he clutched his shoulder and rolled to cover instinctually.

What's happening? Is there a live shooter here? No, that can't be-

"Hey! Someone stop him he-" Was all I heard before someone tackled me to the ground.

Straddling me, knee to my chest sat Neal, a gun in his hands and death in his eyes. Behind him guards raced towards us, guns raised, screaming, but I couldn't make out anything.

"You irrational bastard! You stole a gun from a guard? Why? You're only worsening your situation! It's illogical! It doesn't make any sense! Do you want a death sentence?!"

"California doesn't grant death sentences. I'll go to prison for life, at most, but you'll be dead!" Neal screamed, a mad grin on his face as he pressed the gun to my head.

No. NO!

This isn't how it's supposed to go!

I won.

I refuse to go down like-

Bang!

Before I could finish the thought, he had done it.

A bullet ripped through my skull. For a brief moment, a light flashed, muffled whispers echoed in the void and realities dissolved into a fractal collage of eldritch hues. A Kaleidoscope encompassed my entire being and then just as quickly it disappeared as my life ended, right there on the courtroom floor.