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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

Getting some Gadgets at the Grunt Armory (14) | Insurance Not Included

The Glock-17 handgun... the "tiny" handgun that was in my hands... crumbled under the sudden pressure that I had accidentally applied to it. I could hear the sound of bending and breaking, accompanied by a loud crack.

"Oh..." muttered me, my senior grunt Lieutenant No. 220, my other senior grunt No. 147, and even Professor Kala... all four of us dumbfounded over the sound of me breaking the handgun in my own two hands.

There was a silent pause between all four of us. We had expected just a regular shooting range session that would have looked comical, with me handling the equivalent of a toy gun in my large grunt hand... but never had we thought that the result would turn out like this.

After an intense and awkward silence that felt like eternity... I finally broke the silence.