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Reincarnated as a Grunt No. 703

[HIATUS] 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. Check out my P@treon.com/demonkingakuma

DemonKingAkuma · Aktion
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92 Chs

A Fated Meeting in The Dull Gray Corridor

I left the cafeteria after finishing what was possibly my second breakfast as a Max Brain grunt. Though calling it breakfast might be a stretch—it was more like brunch. Either way, I had consumed my second meal in this new life of mine.

Unfortunately, I had to go by myself.

No. 704 couldn't come with me as my guide because he had to take No. 702 back to our dorm room; he was still out cold from all the morning's events. It couldn't be helped, so I asked again about the directions by trying to remember the route to the Grunt Armory from his Max Phone's 3D holographic map.

From what I had seen, the route to the Grunt Armory, though quite far from my current position at the cafeteria, seemed straightforward enough that I wouldn't miss it—or so I hoped.

'Well, I can always ask any of my fellow grunts here for directions...'