The city of Neo-Vespera gleamed under a heavy blanket of smog and neon lights. From the pristine towers of the elite to the crumbling streets below, everything about the city seemed designed to crush the spirit.
Down in the lower districts, people moved like shadows, heads bowed and shoulders hunched. Patrol drones buzzed overhead, their mechanical voices barking orders: “Unauthorized gatherings are prohibited. Compliance is mandatory.” Vendors hurriedly packed up their stalls, casting nervous glances toward the sky. No one lingered longer than they had to.
Most didn’t even notice the graffiti scrawled on the walls: “The Syndicate owns us all.” Beneath the words, a stylized image of a masked enforcer glared out, a reminder of who truly ruled the city.
Inside a flickering convenience store, Greg Dozer, better known as Napman, was sprawled across a pile of beanbags in the back corner. Soda bottles and snack wrappers surrounded him like offerings to a shrine. His rumpled jacket served as a makeshift pillow, and a sleep mask covered his eyes, though the soft snores escaping his lips made it clear he didn’t need it.
To Neo-Vespera’s citizens, Napman was a contradiction. Some dismissed him as a joke—a lazy bum who stumbled his way into saving the day. Others whispered his name with a mix of awe and skepticism. Either way, he was no symbol of hope.
And that suited Greg just fine.
The hum of flickering fluorescent lights blended with the distant rumble of hovercars outside. For Greg, it was the perfect nap.
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Unfortunately, trouble had a way of ruining perfect naps.
“Move it!”
The sound of something heavy slamming into the counter jolted the store clerk. Behind the register, a hulking thug with a cybernetic arm scowled down at the trembling man, his glowing fist leaving a dent in the metal surface.
“Open the register!” the thug barked. “Before I rip it out myself!”
The clerk fumbled with the cash drawer, dropping coins onto the floor in his panic. Behind him, a younger customer ducked into the corner, his wide eyes darting toward the exit.
“Come on!” growled the thug leader. “We don’t have all night!”
Another thug, lean and jittery, glanced toward the back of the store. His gaze froze on the beanbag pile.
“Uh… boss?” the thug said nervously, nudging the leader’s shoulder.
The leader growled, turning. “What now?”
The lean thug gestured toward Greg. “There’s someone… sleeping over there.”
The leader squinted, staring at the figure in the back. “Sleeping? In the middle of this?”
The jittery thug leaned closer. “Boss… I think that’s Napman.”
For a moment, silence fell over the store.
Then the leader burst out laughing. “That’s Napman? The guy who ‘stopped’ the Grumble-Gang? You mean the lazy clown who wrecked half the street because he tripped into a fight?”
The other thugs chuckled nervously, though none of them looked quite as confident as their leader.
The leader grabbed a soda bottle from a nearby shelf, hefting it in his hand. “Hero or not, he’s just another bum.”
“Didn’t he punch out Crusher from Grumble-Gang?” one of the thugs whispered.
The leader snorted. “Pure luck. Watch this.”
The bottle sailed through the air and shattered against the beanbags. Soda sprayed everywhere, soaking Greg.
He groaned, pushing his sleep mask up onto his forehead as he slowly sat up.
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“You know,” Greg muttered, his voice gravelly with sleep, “waking someone mid-REM is bad for your health.”
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“Is this guy serious?” the leader sneered. He gestured to his crew. “Take him out.”
The thugs exchanged hesitant glances before rushing forward.
Greg stretched, yawning loudly as the first thug swung a baseball bat at his head. Without even looking, Greg leaned back, letting the bat whistle harmlessly past. The thug overextended and stumbled forward, slamming into a shelf of canned goods.
“Careful,” Greg said, still yawning. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”
Another thug lunged at him with a knife. Greg sidestepped lazily, sticking out his foot just enough to trip him. The thug tumbled into a display of chips, sending brightly colored bags scattering across the floor.
The leader growled, activating the energy circuits in his robotic arm. A crackle of red electricity surged along the glowing lines as he swung wide, aiming to crush Greg with a single blow.
Greg raised a hand, catching the massive fist mid-swing. For a moment, the casual lethargy in his expression vanished, replaced by something sharp and focused.
The leader’s sneer faltered. “What the—?!”
Greg tightened his grip on the robotic arm, his voice dropping. “You’re in my way.”
With a single punch, Greg sent the leader flying backward. He crashed into the wall, leaving a deep crater in the concrete.
The remaining thugs didn’t wait for more. Scrambling over each other in panic, they bolted for the door, their shouts echoing through the aisles.
“It’s him! The sleeping demon!”
Greg stretched again, rolling his neck as if the whole thing had been a minor inconvenience. His lazy grin returned, and his voice slipped back into its usual bored tone.
“Finally. Peace and quiet.”
He turned back toward the beanbags, already reaching for his sleep mask.
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“That. Was. AWESOME!”
Greg groaned. The silence didn’t last long.
Standing on the edge of a broken shelf was a wiry teenager, practically vibrating with excitement. His spiky hair bristled like static, and the small wrist device on his arm blinked faintly, casting a pale blue glow.
“You’re Napman, right?” the teen said, leaping down. “The guy who beat the Grumble-Gang?!”
Greg waved a hand dismissively as he shuffled toward the door. “Beat is a strong word. They kind of tripped over themselves.”
“Doesn’t matter!” the teen said, zipping in front of him in a blur of motion. “You’re a legend! Neo-Vespera needs you right now!
Greg sighed heavily, pulling his jacket tighter around him. “Not interested. Bedtime.”
The teen zipped in front of him again, moving so fast it was almost impossible to track.
“Wait! You can’t just leave! The Syndicate is tearing this city apart! People are scared!”
Greg paused. For a moment, his face hardened, and the lines under his eyes seemed deeper. His voice dropped, colder than before.
“This city’s already lost, kid. Don’t waste your time.”
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The ground trembled suddenly, cutting the teen off before he could respond.
A deafening explosion ripped through the store’s front wall, scattering debris and filling the room with smoke. The shockwave knocked the teen off his feet, and Greg shielded his face with his arm.
As the dust settled, a hulking figure stepped through the wreckage. His tank-like armor gleamed under the flickering lights, and the red glow of his eyes cut through the haze like burning coals.
Greg frowned slightly as he straightened. The glow of Ironshade’s tech was unmistakable. And Greg hated it.
“Napman. Tempo,” the figure growled, his voice distorted and cold. “By order of the Syndicate, you will not leave this place alive.”
Greg lowered his arm, his usual lazy expression replaced by mild annoyance.
“Great,” he muttered. “Just what I needed—a walking metal migraine.”
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To Be Continued...
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Hey there, readers!
Thank you for checking out Napman: The Reluctant Hero Who’d Rather Sleep. I hope you enjoyed meeting Greg (Napman), Tempo, and the world of Neo-Vespera in this first chapter.
This story is a bit of a passion project for me. I’ve always been fascinated by heroes who don’t fit the traditional mold—flawed, reluctant, even lazy. Napman was born from the question: What if a hero was powerful, but the cost of using that power made them fear being a hero at all? Add a dystopian city, a shadowy villain organization, and an idealistic sidekick, and here we are!
For me, Napman is about more than just battles and superpowers (though there’s plenty of that, don’t worry!). It’s about the weight of responsibility, the cost of strength, and the connections we find when we least expect them. And, yes, it’s also about the joy of a good nap in a chaotic world.
What did you think of Chapter 1? I’d love to hear your thoughts—was Greg’s first fight what you expected? Are you Team Napman or Team Tempo already? Your comments, likes, and reviews mean the world to me and keep me motivated to keep the story going.
Happy reading, and I can’t wait to share more of Napman’s journey with you!
— SoraAkira