JohnnyZ
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[Life is Good] Chapter 35
🕑 Added 2025-01-19 03:29:34 +0000 UTCWhen I got back to the school, I immediately crashed to catch up on what little sleep I could. Fully rested? Not even close. But at least I could snag a bit of nap time before hitting the recharge station in the morning—filling up my energy reserves always gave me a little boost. For once, Ooyama didn’t drag me out of bed before dawn, so I woke up just in time for breakfast, even skipping my usual run.
Weirdly enough, I felt off without my morning workout, like something wasn’t sitting right. It was awkward, like I’d let myself down. Just to stay consistent, I set my phone alarm an hour before breakfast for tomorrow—at least I’d get in some basic exercises, even if I had a late-night mission.
I got ready quickly, dressed, and made a beeline for the cafeteria. Can’t study on an empty stomach. The place was nearly empty by the time I arrived—everyone had already dispersed to class. I loaded my plate with breakfast delights, sat at the nearest table, and activated my mutant superpower: devouring food at record speed.
Everything was great until the school’s alpha female of mutant stock dropped herself into the seat across from me.
Rahne Sinclair—herself. In my head, I called her Inuzuka, and it fit perfectly. Unlike her comic counterpart from my past life—who was shy and modest—this wolf-girl had the personality of a relentless pick-up artist. Cocky, pushy, cheeky, and convinced, for some reason, that sweet little Tobias was her rightful prey and future husband.
She was undeniably gorgeous. Green eyes, fiery red hair in a chic bob, a toned, athletic figure without going overboard, and a solid B cup size at seventeen (assuming she wasn’t cheating with a push-up). Her face was delicate but with just a hint of something feral, her expressions were animated, and her voice was deep and rich. It would’ve been perfect—if not for the personality that came bundled with the package.
“Hey there, kitten. Enjoy your meal,” she purred, her tone a mix of syrupy sweetness and predator's playfulness.
Oh great. Here we go again. It was an odd experience being on the receiving end of teenage pick-up lines. It’s not that it never happened before—just rarely. And Rahne? She was relentless.
“How’d you sleep, baby?” she cooed, her fox-like grin practically sparkling with mischief.
“Morning, thanks. Didn’t get much sleep—overslept, as you can see. How about you?” I replied, my tone polite but carrying a hint of exhaustion. No need to be rude, right? The girl had a thing for me, and she was doing her best in her own pushy way. Yeah, her assertiveness was overwhelming, even intimidating, but ruining things over that felt unnecessary. She wasn’t a bad person—just a little too much sometimes. Like Flash Thompson if he wasn’t shoving nerds into lockers.
“Great, thanks for asking. You know, you were in my dream last night,” she said, her grin growing wider, her green eyes practically glowing with devilish amusement.
“Oh, let me guess,” I chuckled, chewing on a bite of omelet. “We were up to no good under a full moon? That explains why someone’s howling woke me up this morning. Realized it was just a dream and decided to yell at the moon about it?”
She burst out laughing, throwing her head back like it was the funniest thing in the world. She even banged the table, causing me to steady my juice glass to keep it from tipping over.
“Sorry, sorry, sweetie,” she said, raising her hands in mock surrender under my chipmunk-cheeked glare. Then, lowering her voice to something intimate, she added, “I just love that you’re not as uptight as the other guys.”
“Yeah, tell that to Logan,” I shot back with a smirk.
“Mister Howlett? He’s in a league of his own,” she replied, flashing a grin. “He’s beyond any standard of evaluation.”
“Can’t argue with that,” I muttered, nodding in agreement.
“Wanna hang out today?” she asked, leaning in with that infuriatingly charming smile.
“Mm... sorry, Wolfie, no can do. My schedule’s packed,” I replied, shaking my head. But the look in her big green eyes—so sad, so disappointed—was a killer. After a pause, I added, “How about next weekend? I’m booked solid until then—my fiancee’s flying in tomorrow, so I’ll be spending all my free time with her until Thursday.”
That perked her right up. Her faux sadness vanished, replaced by a smug, self-satisfied grin.
“Deal, sweetie. Next weekend, you and I are going on a date! Ciao, bambino!” she called, winking as she sauntered off.
Something about her attitude made me think she believed she’d just played me into agreeing to the date. If so, she was way off. I didn’t mind. A date isn’t a wedding or even sex, and I’d never been one to stress over that sort of thing. And, to be fair, Rahne was a knockout. Redheads have always been a weakness of mine, even in my past life.
As I finished breakfast, I let my thoughts wander to the world around me. The sheer abundance of women compared to men made the dynamics here… interesting. If I hadn’t grown up in this world and instead arrived fully formed as an adult, I’d probably have worn myself out chasing an impossible harem before realizing it was all too much.
I could never understand some of those harem protagonists back in my old life—collecting girl after girl, then ignoring them. What’s the point? If you’re going to keep them around, at least treat them well. Otherwise, what’s the difference between that and treating them as trophies?
No, unlike them I wasn’t rushing. There’s so much beauty here, and I could afford to take my time. Penny was my sunshine, my childhood friend whose relationship with me blossomed into love. Then there was Kristi—a wonderful soul and a striking beauty with an unconventional allure.
They were my anchors, the ones I was sure about. They got along well enough from what I could tell in our online conversations, though that only goes so far. But life changes, and people with it. At seventeen, nothing is set in stone.
Then there were my plans. My future wasn’t shaping up to be calm or peaceful. A mutant training for combat, engaging in missions, patrolling with Parker, and possibly… eliminating threats. Not people—monsters. Monsters that deserved no mercy.
How would Penny or Kristi react if they found out my “heroic” alter ego executed someone without trial? It’s not something you can easily explain or justify to people as kind-hearted as them. That’s why mutants often live in enclaves—our goals may align, but the methods and morals? Those differ wildly.
Killing Stryker? Ooyama was thrilled, practically glowing with satisfaction. Victoria approved without hesitation. Magneto? Oh, she was absolutely delighted, though she did grumble a bit about me putting myself in unnecessary danger. Logan? He didn’t give a damn. The only thing that annoyed him was that he hadn’t been the one to tear her throat out. But Xavier’s people? Yeah, not so much. They didn’t outright condemn me—"Poor kid, he’s in shock, witnessed death, he’s traumatized"—but they didn’t exactly give me a standing ovation either.
With a sigh, I got up from the table, cleaned up, and dragged myself off to class. Life? She’s a cruel mistress, let me tell you. I’m not making any promises here—becoming some sort of Punisher knockoff isn’t exactly a goal of mine. And the whole superhero gig? For me, it’s mostly a means to an end. A way to learn, grow stronger, and make sure people take me seriously. To hit hard enough that no one dares to mess with me or the people I care about. Most importantly, though? I need to toughen up. Let’s face it—I’m way too soft. But I like my perspective on life: Good deserves good in return. But evil? That deserves a punch square to the teeth. That’s a lesson I need to learn. And thank the Emperor I’ve got the perfect sadistic mentor for the job. Yeah, Emperor—not some benevolent goddess. A kind goddess would never saddle a soft little boy with a mentor like Oyama. Hehehe.
The rest of the day went by in the usual way. Morning classes, followed by training with Oyama. During warm-ups, she handed me a copy of The Daily Bugle. Probably just to piss me off. The headline? “Spider-Girl Proves Useless Once Again, Nearly Ruins Police Operation Led by Mutant Hero.” Jameson… that guy’s got a grudge against Parker the size of the moon.
The article itself? A bit more surprising. Apparently, Captain Julia Stacy had “teamed up” with some unknown young man—yours truly—who called himself "Mr. Mutant." The whole thing was being spun as a police initiative to integrate superpowered individuals into law enforcement, much like what’s already happening in the military and special forces. Even Jameson’s editorial team grudgingly approved: “True heroes are police officers, doctors, firefighters, and rescue workers—not freaks in tights. But if these so-called superhumans can be trained to follow the law, maybe they’ll finally be of some use.”
I raised an eyebrow at Oyama and waved the paper at her. She just smirked and pointed to the mats. No explanations—just bruises. The sparring session began, and as usual, she kicked my ass thoroughly. Afterward, I recharged and shuffled off to see Beast. McCoy had mentioned some promising ideas for my powers, and I was eager to see what he and Jennifer had come up with.
When I arrived, only Jennifer was there. McCoy was running late, she said, but I could wait. So I flopped down in a chair and watched her type away at her computer. She’s cute, honestly—even with her whole Hulk thing. And after meeting Hulk, I don’t even find her scary anymore. Sure, I respect her. But fear? Nah. Let’s be real—Hulk doesn’t smash for no reason. There’s always some sort of shitstorm setting her off.
“Why are you staring at me like that, Toby?” Jen asked with a laugh, noticing my gaze.
“Just thinking…” I started, hesitating. “Have you ever thought about, I don’t know, trying to talk to Hulk? Like, go somewhere remote, wake her up on purpose, and maybe bring someone along who she wouldn’t immediately want to squash?”
Jen paused, mulling it over. “You know, I’ve considered it. But between running from the government and just surviving, I’ve never had the chance. I’ve talked about it with Professor Xavier, though. Maybe someday. But honestly? I’d be scared to involve anyone else. Hulk is… unpredictable.”
“Well, if you need a volunteer, I’m your guy,” I said, flashing her my best grin. “We got along pretty well after those jumps. I think she’d at least hear me out. Plus, based on what she said, I think Hulk knows more about your life than you might realize.”
Jen smiled softly. “I…We… sense each other. It’s hard to explain. When Hulk’s in control, it feels like I’m dreaming— it’s hazy and disjointed. And some parts I’d rather forget.” She grimaced and shook her head. Yeah, no surprise there. Hulk isn’t exactly a sparkly magical girl.
“The offer stands,” I said with a shrug. Before she could respond, McCoy burst into the room, and we got to work.
Time flew by in the lab, and I left with a spring in my step. First, I had a few Angels of Vengeance (no one answered so I am sticking with how it was in the original) emblems tucked under my arm, ready to be added to my suits. And second? Beast’s simple little experiment taught me, in some small way, how to control my electricity. I wasn’t hurling lightning bolts like Thor yet, but progress was progress. McCoy had rigged up a meter-wide disk with light bulbs arranged around the edge. Each bulb had its own wire, all leading to a central hub, which connected to a single cable. That cable? It went in my hands.
The goal was to light up specific bulbs with my powers, not all of them at once. At first? I blew every single bulb to smithereens. Too much juice. After a bit of calibration, though, I managed to make the bulbs glow instead of explode. Then came the hard part: directing the electricity down specific paths. The ladies set up a camera and left me to it. I grunted, strained, and even struck a few ridiculous poses. I wasn’t expecting the poses to help, but hey, you never know! And then, in one truly glorious moment, I managed to light up only the bulbs on the right side. Holding the pattern steady, I memorized the feeling—something impossible to describe—and kept experimenting from there.
It all ended with me confidently and effortlessly directing electricity exactly where I wanted it to go. I say this with the utmost sincerity—it was an indescribable feeling of triumph. Mastery over oneself feels almost as monumental as when you finally learn, as a kid, to pick your nose without occasionally poking yourself in the eye.
So, I had dinner with the girls in an absolutely stellar mood. Everything was going great—until I was walking back to my room with Kristi to start on some homework, and Oyama intercepted me at my door. "Get changed. I’m waiting for you in the car—we’ve got a long drive ahead. Bring whatever you need—you can do your homework on the way," she said, before throwing a glance at a visibly disappointed Kristi and heading toward the garage.
I sighed, apologized to my blue-skinned girlfriend, and headed off to get ready. Luckily, slapping an emblem on my suit's shoulder was a two-minute job. Suit on, a loose hoodie and joggers thrown over it, a small case packed with my mask and gloves in hand—I was ready. I made my way to meet my mentor, wondering what the hell had come up so urgently that Ooyama decided to drag me out again the very night after our last mission.
Once in the car and pulling out of the mansion grounds, Ooyama tossed a newspaper at me. "Details when we get closer. For now, read this and do your homework," she said curtly. I glanced down at the paper, quickly spotting the article she’d marked in red. The headline screamed: “Serial Killer On the Loose! Cletus Kasady Escapes Psychiatric Hospital.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake...
Comments
John Atel
Me too, but since it's a reference to Warhammer 40K, I want to know how it's referred to in the lore. If it's called 'Nemesis' in 40K, then it will have to stay that way.
Bob
Honestly the Angels of vengence fits better with the retribution theme then Nemesisto me
