Whenever I think about throwing my life away. I always lie to myself that someone will be hurt if I were to disappear. When I think of that, I couldn’t help but cry and think that life might be worth living.
Even though I don't know who that someone is. I like to believe that somewhere in the world someone is sad when they see me get hurt…when I lose, when I’m defeated.
I like to think that someone as insignificant as me can become somebody. Make someone happy. And because of that I can endure any injury, any tragedy, any misfortune.
I’m kind of a pathetic person like that
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The quiet of the midnight air shattered as her body hurtled through the glass doors of the bookstore. A sharp crack, followed by the glittering rain of shards catching the faint street lights outside. She hit the ground hard, rolling with the momentum, her cloak whipping about her as she tried to regain balance.
Blonde curls, streaked with glass, cascaded down her face as she scrambled to her feet. Her ice-blue eyes, glowing under the streetlights, locked onto the figure still lingering in the shadows of the store. She wiped a trickle of blood from her lip, looking out the bookstore in fear of what was to follow her.
“I was sure it was just an ordinary pervert Genju before…How the fuck did I get so strong all of a sudden?!!”
In a flash, the creature appeared before her eyes, replacing the evening scenery that she was just looking at moments prior. For a heartbeat, her breath caught in her throat, and she flinched, instinctively stepping back as her boots scraped against the broken shards of glass.
But then, as her eyes adjusted, her shock gave way to something else. She'd seen this face before—many times. She had fought this thing, traded blows with it under the cover of darkness. But it still threw her off every time she faced it. The sheer absurdity of its appearance hit her like a punchline she hadn't quite been ready for.
The creature stood tall, its body packed with muscles that were cartoonishly shiny, gleaming in the soft light of the moon. Its chest rose and fell with a slow, menacing rhythm, the outline of its frame a grotesque mirror to the raw power it held. From the neck down, it was the stuff of nightmares—thick strands of muscle that promised violence, a body sculpted to crush, maim, and overpower. And yet... and yet...
That face.
A face so bizarrely out of place that it made the corners of her mouth twitch, threatening to produce a smirk. The features—if you could call them that—looked like they'd been hastily scribbled onto a paper by a distracted child. Uneven, lopsided eyes, a squiggly nose, and a cartoonish mouth twisted into what seemed to be an attempt at a snarl but ended up looking more like the unfortunate result of a toddler's doodling spree.
She blinked once, twice, unable to reconcile the terror her body instinctively felt with the sight in front of her. It should have been intimidating—it was designed to be, with its hulking frame and monstrous strength—but instead, it was comically absurd. A living contradiction. A threat, sure, but one wearing the most ridiculous face imaginable.
It flexed, like it was trying to make the moment dramatic, trying to be cool. But the juxtaposition of its impressive physique and that absurd face only made it more difficult to take seriously. Her lips twitched again, and this time, despite herself, a small, breathy laugh escaped her.
She quickly bit down on it, her eyes narrowing. "Focus," she muttered to herself, shaking her head as if to clear the incredulous disbelief. This thing had thrown her through glass, after all. It had the strength of a monster, no matter how ridiculous it looked. That much she couldn’t forget. She couldn’t afford to.
She rolled her shoulders, bracing herself for the inevitable clash, even as the absurdity of it all danced at the edge of her thoughts. She needed to take down this curse in front of her.
She needed to take down this Gooning Genju.
She quickly charged at the abomination, her limbs blurring as she struck out—fist, elbow, knee—whatever she could manage. But the creature danced around her like it was toying with her. Every time her fist neared its ugly face or her kick lashed out toward its ribs, it moved, just enough, always slipping beyond her reach. She fought a shadow—a twisted, lumbering silhouette that seemed almost bored by her efforts.
She clenched her jaw, willing her strikes to find their mark. She could feel her heart pounding, the dull, rhythmic echo in her ears, and the frustration building in her chest, tightening like a vice. This thing—this monstrous, absurd parody of a creature—made a mockery of everything she’d been taught, of everything she was.
She dropped low, sweeping her leg in an arc, and her heel sliced through the air toward the creature's feet. She saw it in slow motion, the arc, the power in her kick, but then—nothing. It lifted its foot and stepped back, almost lazily, as if her attempts were no more threatening than a breeze.
Before she could recover, it moved. It was impossibly fast, a flash of movement she couldn’t track. Its hand shot out and snatched her wrist, and the iron grip sent a jolt of fear up her spine. She tried to twist away, to break its grasp, but it was like trying to move against a stone wall. A searing pain exploded in her shoulder, her vision blurring at the edges, and she bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. Panic rose in her throat, but she barely had time to process it before the ground disappeared beneath her.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Owwww!”
The world spun. Her body went airborne, hurled across the bookstore, and for a heartbeat, everything felt weightless—before it all came crashing down. She slammed into a set of shelves, her back hitting the wooden frame with enough force to send books toppling all around her. Her vision flashed white from the pain, her body crumpling in a heap on the floor, gasping for breath as the wind was knocked out of her.
The creature loomed over her, a silent monument to her failure. Its face, an awkward mishmash of uneven features, twisted into a mockery of a grin. It looked at her as though this was all some kind of game.
“I’ve achieved Post Nut Clarity.” The Gooning Genju said. “Which means I have obtained a hyper awareness of everything around me. There’s nothing that can touch me now!”
The Gooning Genju's lips twisted into that grotesque condescending grin. “You were born as a high school girl in an era where I exist,” it said, each word hitting her like a slap to the face. “That’s why you lost tonight.”
For a moment, she just stared at it, her chest heaving. Was this really it? Was this how she was going to die?
Things felt hopeless. But at the same time, she’s glad that she’s the one who had to face down this horror. And not anyone else.
The creature stepped closer, towering over her like an insurmountable wall, casting her in its shadow. It raised a clawed hand, a sick smile pulling at the crude line of its mouth. “But don’t worry,” it continued, almost soothingly. “I will make your death painless. From now on, until the moment you die, you will feel nothing but pleasure.”
Then suddenly, something flew into its line of sight—a book, its pages flapping wildly in the air. The creature’s uneven eyes blinked, tracking the object, and it realized, almost in disbelief, that the girl had thrown it. One of the many books that had been knocked loose when she’d crashed into the shelves.
It let out an almost impatient chuckle. “I told you it’s pointless—”
But then the book hit the ground, flipping open to reveal the cover in all its embarrassing glory. The Genju paused. It was an eromanga—a hentai manga to be exact.
For a second, it was as if the world had paused for the abomination. The Gooning Genju’s grotesque, scribbled features twitched, its wide eyes narrowing as it stared down at the page.
“This sensation…” it murmured, a confused growl escaping its twisted mouth. Its muscles tensed, rippling beneath its skin. “This sensation rising in my chest… this feeling of wanting to goon again— Why is an hentai manga in this bookstore?! Don’t tell me—” It faltered, its comical face seemed even more so as panic crept into its tone. “Don’t tell me she led me here on purpose!”
The Gooning Genju’s face contorted as it slammed its eyes shut, desperate to regain control over its own spiraling thoughts. The creeping panic in its voice was unmistakable as it growled, “Damn it! I’m losing my Post Nut Clarity... I must… calm my heart!”
It took a breath, trying to regain control. But when it reopened its eyes, the creature was met with a scene it hadn’t expected—a scene that sent a jolt of cold terror straight through its chest.
The girl was already there. She had erased whatever ground that was between them in an instant. But more terrifying than her speed were the arms—multiple arms—that grew from her body. Each one clenched into a fist, mirroring her own. They hovered in the air for just a heartbeat, and in that brief moment, the Gooning Genju’s grotesque, childishly-drawn eyes widened in fear. It could see the reflection of those fists in its own eyes, a dozen rippling shapes of fury.
Then they struck.
The first blow landed square in its chest, and the force was unlike anything the Gooning Genju had ever felt. It was like a sledgehammer, knocking the wind from its lungs. The second hit followed almost immediately, a barrage of punches that pounded into its body with unrelenting force.
"ORA! ORA! ORA! ORA!" the girl shouted, her voice rising with every punch, her fury building with every strike.
The creature's body convulsed under the relentless assault, muscles rippling as it tried—and failed—to brace against the barrage. It was like standing in the middle of a hurricane, each fist a violent gust of wind, smashing into it from every angle.
The Gooning Genju’s vision blurred with every hit, its hideous face contorting into a twisted mixture of pain and disbelief. Its arms, once so proud and strong, flailed uselessly in the storm of blows, unable to defend against the rapid-fire onslaught. Every part of it screamed in agony as the fists kept coming, faster, harder, each one hammering into its body without mercy.
“ORA! ORA! ORA! ORA!” The girl’s fists flew like a machine, never slowing, her voice a battle cry that echoed in the cramped space of the ruined bookstore.
The creature’s body buckled, muscles twitching uncontrollably.
It couldn’t move. It couldn’t think. The only thing left was pain—unbearable, unending pain.
Through the haze of agony, the creature’s mind raced, desperately trying to process what was happening. But the fists kept coming, faster than it could comprehend, faster than it could even scream.
Another hit. Another explosion of pain. Its body was no longer its own.
Then, mercifully, a final punch launched him out of the bookstore and back into the streets.
The Gooning Genju lay sprawled across the ground, defeated, its unsightly form trembling as the last threads of life slipped away. Its once-massive muscles, designed to intimidate, had now lost their terrible grandeur, their weight deflating, reduced to dust. Bit by bit, the creature's body began to crumble, fragments breaking off, dissolving into nothingness.
The girl stood over it, breathing heavily, her body aching from the ordeal. The extra limbs that she had spawn now merging back inside her. She wiped sweat from her forehead, her hand trembling just a bit as the adrenaline drained away. She watched the creature disappear, its monstrous shape vanishing into the cool, indifferent air.
“Good grief,” she mumbled, rubbing the back of her head with a grimace.
Rapid footsteps broke the silence of the evening. She turned quickly to see a familiar figure sprinting toward her.
It was her captain.