1 The day Plot Armor overslept

Helmut stood and silently watched as a chinese man shouted what sounded like an unintelligible war cry and charged at a giant slug the size of a minibus. Not to be outdone, the slug let out a vicious roar (wait, what?).

With a mighty throw the chinese fellow sent an improvised bag filled with salt flying at the monster's face, only to get instantly fried to a crisp with an electrical arc sent out by the blue slug.

A moment later there was silence, with only a human body charred black with his hair on fire and a thrashing pile of rapidly melting blue sludge to tell the tale of the most epic battle of the century.

Standing there, speechless, Helmut took off his beanie hat and scratched the back of his bald head.

There wasn't much to say here except for-

"...what the fuck am I even looking at?"

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Helmut's life was a constant struggle: a tug-of-war against his own body, that clearly had a grudge against him as if he killed its parents (which he essentially did, but much, much further down the line).

Being born somewhat prematurely, he was 'blessed' with both weakened immune system and congenital heart muscle deficiency, followed by such delightful things as cardiac arrhythmia and asthma. By the age of twenty two, this veritable bingo card was completed with stress induced cancer joining the mix. However, the world decided to cut the guy some slack and let him off the hook for the low, low price of coughing up a not insignificant amount of money, going through chemo twice, surviving a surgery with an exceedingly low chance of success, and living in a dried up corpselike husk of a body with pale skin, bald scalp and sunken eyes. If anything, now he could easily score the main role in a movie if someone decided to film a remake of Nosferatu.

But even without that he still became a bit of a celebrity among world renowned doctors his parents employed on a regular basis.

Each time they would prophesize his nearing demise. And each time they would the baffled when this cockroach of a man pulled through time and time again, stubbornly refusing to just give up and kick the bucket already.

Ah yes, how could we forget about the parents. Upstanding blokes really.

Father - owner of a sprawling chain of pharmacies in Britain.

Mother - a german immigrant, working as a lawyer.

It is unknown if it was out of great love for their son that grew into obsession that they essentially ruined their own lives, careers, and material wellbeing, spending decades and a fortune in an attempt to cure him; or was it because of the fact that Clare was diagnosed as infertile not long after giving birth, and their child being the only thing that kept the tired, jaded, constantly fighting couple together.

It doesn't matter much really, as they both died in a plane crash along with 317 other passengers.

However, there was a single survivor of that crash. Just take a wild guess who it was, it shouldn't be that hard...

Indeed, mr.roach had a sudden urge to answer the Nature's call and went to the back of the plane, locking himself in; not realizing that just a minute later the plane's tail with him inside will snap off and fall into a sea of trees. Splendidly jumping out of death's jaws once again, paying with nothing more than a broken arm, a couple bruises and a mild concussion for his salvation.

Receiving his inheritance he kept on travelling the world in search of more and more exotic and implausible doctors and healing techniques in hopes that in the future a time will come when he could go through the day without eating painkillers like candy.

By reaching the age of 26, he turned his eyes to wonderful and terrible land of China...