1 This Fucking World

A tall tanned man strode into his living room and headed over to his private bar. The man was six feet three inches. He had a broad and heavily muscled back. He had rock hard six-pack abs and a perky butt that bounced in his white cotton pants as he walked barefooted. He didn't have the most handsome face, but he had all the qualities of an attractive male. He had eyes that could suck a woman's soul that spoke of maturity, experience, and sadness. He had a large and defined jawline that could cut through steel and neatly combed black hair.

The bar was wooden and lined with delicate ornate patterns. Bottles of alcohol lined the shelves. The man took a whiskey glass from a cupboard, placed it onto the counter added some ice in, and popped the cork off a Johnnie Walker scotch bottle. He poured the amber liquid in and swirled it around as he waited for the scotch to chill.

He walked over to his left and looked outside his suite into a beautiful city in Singapore.

"Breakfast... the most important drink of the day..." he said out loud with a thick Chinese accent as he raised the whiskey glass to his lips, and downed the scotch in three gulps. Despite having a thick Chinese accent, he did not sound like a stereotypical Chinese immigrant at all. In fact, his voice was velvety and deep. The accent made him seem even more exotic.

The amber liquid slid down his throat as his Adam's apple noticeably shifted. The liquid streamed down his esophagus and into his stomach. A second later, he felt a warm flame arise in the core of his stomach.

He released the whiskey glass from his lips and stared into it. He did not set it down.

He suddenly turned around, his feet squeaking against the marble floor as he hurled the whiskey to the wall ten meters away.

"Nobody sneaks up on me and gets away with it,'' he snarled.

The whiskey flew across the room in less than a second. Just as it was about to hit the wall, the white background began shifting. A lithe figure backflipped into the air and onto the ground. It was a naked woman seemingly of Asian origins. She held a handgun in her left hand and pointed it at the man. At the same time, two more men jumped from the bathroom and to the man's right and also began firing.

The man quickly jumped onto the other side of the counter just as the woman began firing bullets right above his head. He reached underneath the countertop and pulled out a sheathed sword.

He silently pulled the blade out of the sheath and threw it to the side. A real expert made no noise as the blade leaves its sheath. The sword was a Chinese sword called a jian. It was 99 cm in length and three inches wide. He then reached under the table and took out a loaded pistol.

The woman was nicknamed the "Chameleon". A metahuman capable of camouflaging herself. She was tanned, had black hair, green snake-like eyes, and purple lips. In align with her theme, she had a tattoo of a chameleon on her back, its body as though it were climbing on her back, its head in a 180 degree turn such that it was looking at an audience with its tail extending down her spine, across her toned butt, and wrapping around her right thigh. It was creepy and wildly sexy in its own way, especially since she was naked.

Yep, her camouflaging powers don't work like they do in the movies. It only works on her body and skin, but not clothing. As such, she had to hide naked and carry small weapons that she could hide behind her stomach and breasts as she clung to the wall.

The two men that barged in wore gas masks and top hats. He could not tell where they were from.

The only reason why he knew she was there was that the camouflage was too perfect. There was supposed to be a small crack where she covered, a memory of when he slammed the maid into the wall and rode her from behind.

He took a gamble and with his pistol in hand, pointed it outwards, and shot at the two men who were bigger threats with their assault rifles. He managed to shoot one in the leg and the other in the cheek. Luckily, thanks to fate, his hand was okay. Unfortunately, he was also out of bullets, but so was the Chameleon.

As though the two were in a skit, both of them threw their guns to the side. Both of them had been counting the bullets fired, and reloading would be obvious. It would have given enough time for the other to charge forward and attack. The Chameleon ran forward, her upper body leaning down at a slight angle, and her small perky breasts jiggling side to side. She held a short blade in her right hand and god knows how where she got it, but she had a tanto in her left hand.

The man leaped over the counter and charged as well. He had both hands on the handle of his jian and performed an overhead slash downwards.

The Chameleon swung her short blade at the incoming blade, but not to block. Once the blades connected she redirected the jian to her right and stepped forward with her tanto raised and poised to strike.

The man felt his jian get redirected towards the empty ground and stepped forward with his left leg to counteract the force downwards. He raised the hilt up and to his right with the tip of the blade still pointing downwards.

The Chameleon's tanto struck his jian near the base of the blade and forced him back a step. She then jabbed her short blade towards the right side of his rib cage.

He grunted in annoyance and twisted his hands, even more, to redirect the short blade while swaying to his right to avoid its path. A vein started emerging on his forehead. This woman was so damn annoying!

He brought his blade up gently and nicked her arm as she attempted to move back. A thin red line of blood appeared on the inside of her right forearm.

As he also stepped back, the wall behind him exploded in a burst of dust and brick. A large man seven feet tall charged in and attempted to tackle him.

He bent his knees down, jumped, and backflipped over the large man. The large man blocked the Chameleon from attacking.

As the large man entered his sight towards the end of his backflip he drove his jian into the large man's right shoulder blade. Gravity and his weight pulled him down and drove the jian downwards creating a small scar on the large man's back.

His series of action showed that he was no ordinary man. Just like the Chameleon, he was a metahuman. After all, no ordinary martial artist would actually backflip in the middle of a fight over a seven feet tall man with a jian and have the reaction speed necessary to slash immediately upon finding an opening midair. The main character seemed to have enhanced physical capabilities, great perception, and great control over his body.

He took a look at the large man immediately noticing that he was, of course, large and sticky, bronze and bald. The next thing he noticed was that the large man was only wearing a loincloth and his bare buttcheeks were showing. It was weird and disgusting.

As the large man finished halting he turned around and assumed an orthodox boxing stance, leading with his left foot and tucking his right arm to protect his chin and build-up for an attack. He looked like some characters out of a manga he read a while back: Biscuit Oliva's body and Doppo Orochi's face with his eyes intact.

He identified the large man as "Smiling Bull." Smiling Bull practiced both boxing and wrestling though he was unable to switch the styles in the middle of a fight fluidly. Now that he lost the initiative it was safe to assume he will use boxing instead. In addition, Smiling Bull was well known for his tank-like body and eternal smile. He had a high amount of iron that somehow entered his skin and made it harder. Years of conditioning and martial arts gave him immense strength, and muscles and skin that became nearly bullet resistant, meaning he had no need for protection.

Indeed, the strongest metahumans had all found a way to fight firearms although they still appreciated them. Usually, metahumans not only developed weird abilities, but their overall physical capability improved as well. The Chameleon may look soft and elastic, and it was, but her skin was as tough as leather. Smiling Bull was even more daunting. He had put everything into his body and was capable of running through brick walls with little to no problems.

For a perceptive fighter like our main character, Smiling Bull was greatly unwelcomed. Getting cut with his jian would normally disable someone, but it at best scarred Smiling Bull.

Smiling Bull charged. He ran four steps forward and swung a right hook.

He ducked under and moved to his right (Smiling Bull's left) and used his momentum to slash Smiling Bull's left side of the waist. Once again, his jian left a noticeable scar, but not a deadly one.

The Chameleon was right behind Smiling Bull and lunged forward with her short blade.

He continued moving past Smiling Bull, raised his jian in a defensive position towards the Chameleon's short blade, and ran past her.

The Chameleon skidded to a stop, quickly turned around on her heel, and stabbed with her tanto.

He deflected it and went in with a stab of his own.

Just as the Chameleon was about to jump back she felt a hand on her lower back pushing her forward. The jian went straight through her stomach and scraped against her spine. Her eyes widened in confusion and anger. Her body continued to fly forward all the way to the hilt, pushing our main character back.

While our main character attempted to jump back while in shock, Smiling Bull sent a left hook and smashed the main character's right arm and right pec, sending him flying.

Unfortunately for the Chameleon, his hands were still tightly gripping his jian and when it left her body it did not leave in a straight line out. Her stomach was cut open and her intestines began spilling out. Red tubes covered in scarlet blood oozed down her stomach. She dropped her weapons and tried to hold them to no avail.

Smiling Bull shoved her aside and sent a right straight right into our main character's stomach, punching him into the brick wall behind him.

He grit his teeth and leaped to the side, barely dodging another straight that shattered the brick wall behind him.

Just as he finished rolling into a kneel another guy popped out!

This time it was fully clothed individual. He was a tanned stocky man with a black cloak and wild fuzzy beard. He was unrecognizable.

The cloaked man ran forward and wildly punched at our main character. Our main character stood up and with his remaining left hand stabbed the cloaked man with his jian. Shockingly the cloaked man did not dodge! Could he have some sort of regenerative ability or a inhumanely tough body like Smiling Bull?

The cloaked man used his right hand to grab the wrist holding the jian and wrapped his arms around our main character's neck.

Smiling Bull did not recognize this newcomer, but saw an opportunity and jumped forward to punch out main character in the back, intending to shatter his spine!

"ALLAHU AKBAR!!!"

'OH SHITTT!!!' Both Smiling Bull and our main character knew what was going to happen next.

The cloaked man revealed ten bundles of tnt underneath his cloak which was why he was so stocky. He had been waiting for the timer to set off.

A massive explosion engulfed the three men. The cloaked man died happily with a maniacal grin on his face. Smiling Bull had a sad and pained smile. Our main character had a bitter smile.

Outside the hotel, commuters witnessed a bright explosion shattering the glass windows up on the fifteenth floor, sending glass shards and dust into the air. Black smoke drifted upwards into the sky and police sirens rang as they headed to one of the most luxurious hotels in the city.

Our main character felt what seemed to be his soul get ripped out his body.

'Well I deserved this I guess.'

Our main character was Warren Lei. He was not as well known by the public, but he was known to a lot of powerful people and other metahumans as the "Troll." It was both for his ability to screw people over and for his personality. Despite his handsome and elegant demeanor, he was extremely lascivious, greedy, and sly, all probably a product of becoming greater than a normal human. Actually he leaned more towards chaotic than evil, but he had definitely sinned more than he committed good deeds.

Smiling Bull was in fact a former Buddhist monk who left his secluded temple to punish evildoers with death. He believed that dead criminals were technically still alive as they entered hell and were punished for their misconduct.

The Chameleon was an actually mercenary and was paid to assassinate Warren.

As for the suicidal Muslim… He was probably retaliation from when he robbed the Middle East blind and snitched on ISIS operations for European and United State authorities. To say he was evil was subjective.

Spirit Warren shook his head.

'What a shame. What a shame. I wanted to do more…'

Back to the hotel…

Smiling Bull had a pained smile on his face. He had horrible burns all over his body. One of his eyes was a smoking charred mess. His arms and legs were bent out of shape. That explosion did more damage to him than bullets and blades ever could. The Chameleon was probably dead.

He crawled his way towards the exit, but the floor above him suddenly fell on top of him. He heaved and struggled to lift the wreckage off of him, but he was too tired and weak.

"NO! NO! NO!"

Tears streamed down his face. His smile was still there. He continued to yell, but nobody came to help. Oxygen quickly combusted into flames and lit the suite on fire. He struggled to breathe, to get some air, but he got nothing but smoke and heat. He struggled, but darkness seeped into his vision. He couldn't breathe!

Smiling Bull… death by asphyxiation.