Pilot Draft: Kaiju Man

A/N: another potential pilot draft I've been inspired to write lately. That one would be a lot closer to Paypocalypse in terms of vibes, and while I'm more tempted to write something serious alongside Paypoc... well, I can't lie it made me a laugh a lot while writing it. Enjoy.

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It was Riley’s first day on the job, and it started with a disaster. 

“Barrier break in District 3!” one of her monitoring technicians shouted as all monitors in the command room flared red with warning messages. The alarm screeched through the loudspeakers. “Barrier break in District 3! It’s the Underworlders!” 

Riley grit her teeth. The Erasmus Guild had finally allowed her transfer to a cushy region of Sanctuary City Dorsale, where she had been promoted as head of Dispatch Operations in District 3; one of the safest in the entire agglomeration, largely because it was located behind a potent defensive perimeter of intertwoven Level Barriers. The only threats it saw came from space or beneath the earth, so yearly attacks could be counted on two hands. 

What were the odds that the Underworlders would launch an attack today? 

“What’s the estimated ranking?” Riley asked as she sat at her station.

“C-Rank!” one of the technicians replied. “They have a fire giant with them!”

Riley glanced at her monitor with distaste. A camera feed showed a colossal, fiery humanoid with short, stumpy legs of magma and a flaming beard crawling out of the earth. His powerful lava arms carried a blazing sword the length of a small bridge that swiftly cut through the nearest building. 

A fire giant alone was bad enough—their kind hovered around level 50—but this one came with allies. A small group of hulking, walking humanoid masses of stone and earth crawled out of the giant hole in the pavement, the ground shaking beneath their feet. It was a full on Underworlder war party!

“Dispatch the closest C-rank and above Class User,” Riley ordered, her fists clenched. District 3 being such a low danger area meant few heavy hitters lived here. The fire giant might do a lot of damage before backup reached the area…

“We have a S-rank Class Ranker on standby in the vicinity, Ma’am!”

“What, really?” Riley couldn’t believe her luck. Sending an S-Rank to deal with a C-rank threat was overkill, but better safe than sorry. “Well, dispatch them!”

“But, uh…” her technician squinted at his screen. “The file says he should only be deployed in S-rank emergencies–”

“This is not a S-rank situation, but this is still an emergency!” Riley couldn’t allow a massacre on her first day on the job. Her career would never recover! “I said to deploy them!”

“Yes, Ma’am! The hero’s name is–”

—----

Bob Baroque was finishing his shopping when he heard the alarm. 

He had spent the entire afternoon browsing sweatshops to find a cheap gift for his niece’s birthday—money was getting scarce due to all the insurance claims eating away at his rare mission payments, so he had to be extra-picky. Little Noriko insisted on ‘something cool, yet useful,’ like a magical sword, but he had to settle on a dagger that glowed in the dark. 

“Goddamnit, only twenty bucks left?” Bob complained after checking his daily budget on his smartphone. He patently ignored the alarm and the fleeing people through the streets of District 3 to the shelters; whatever critter had triggered the alarm wouldn’t be enough for him to intervene. “It’s barely enough to eat a kid’s meal at Major Chicken nowadays!”

Where did the pay from his last S-rank mission go? Oh yes, right, the property damage lawsuit. Was it really his fault that that bridge got in the way of his foot? You would think that people would have shown more gratitude towards him for getting rid of a Behemoth…

Bob put his phone away and resolved himself to another fast food night when a System notification popped up in front of him.

C-Rank Mission Request: Deal with the Underworld attack. 

Reward: 10,000 Credits + all the loot you may claim for yourself. 

“What?” Bob had to double-check the notification in disbelief. “They want me to intervene in a C-rank mission? Me?”

Incomprehensible, but sweet!

Bob checked the mission request’s location—hardly a city block away from where he was now—and immediately ran through the streets towards the source of the commotion. His Class slightly improved his stats in human form, so he blitzed past the buildings until he reached what probably used to be a crossroads of some kind. A burning, smoke hole had opened up and let a good two dozen Underworld mooks run amok. They tossed around trash cans, set cars on fire, pounding the pavement, wrecked buildings, the usual raiding party stuff. Thankfully, it seemed that the local civilians had already evacuated the area when they heard the alarm, so these critters were stuck doing property damage for now. Bob would mop the floor with them before they could hurt anyone. 

Their leader was… a fire giant.

Yes, a mere fire giant, barely eighteen feet tall, with a flaming sword cleaving through streetlights and cars like they were paper. Nothing else. 

“Wait, this is it?” Bob scratched the back of his head. “You guys are the emergency?”

The question caught the fire giant’s attention. He roared and brought down his sword in a burst of speed which Bob admitted was rather surprising. Still, he lazily sidestepped the attack and watched the blade carve a small rift in the pavement. 

An Underworlder mook then attempted to cheap-shot him from behind, but Bob smashed its head apart with a lazy backpunch. The display of power quickly cooled down the ardor of the other mooks. 

“Oh, wait, I get it! They must have put a newbie in charge of the local Dispatch!” Bob said with a laugh. He pitied the poor shmuck. If they had known who he was, they would have never deployed him against a fire giant of all things. “Oh well, I’ll get paid either way.” 

“You dare mock me, human?!” The fire giant asked with a thundering voice akin to a burning inferno. He pointed his sword at Bob in an attempt to look intimidating. “You, a piece of filth that infests this beautiful layer of the Worldsoul? Our Supreme Overlord demands that you be cleansed, and I shall–”

“Yeah, whatever, I don’t care.” Bob stretched his arms for a second. It had been a while since he had the opportunity to activate his Class. “What’s your name, small fry?”

The fire giant sneered with blazing eyes. “I am Warrior Forgecinders, true servant of Lord Addamak the Hateful.”

Addamak? Hadn’t Bob pulverized him last year? How was he still alive?

“I’m Bob. Bob Baroque, thirty-one years old.” A handful of the mooks froze in surprise upon hearing his name… and then immediately fled back into the hole from which they had crawled out of. “Ohoh, see that? They’ve heard of me!”

“You cowards!” The fire giant roared at his fleeing troops. “What are you doing?!”

It didn’t matter anyway. Most of the mooks had remained with their leader, which suited Bob just fine since it meant more loot. He checked one last time to make sure no nearby human civilians risked being caught in the crossfire, then activated his Class.  

An immense burst of power surged from him, sending the nearest Underworld mooks flying back or hitting the pavement. Even the fire giant flinched, though he held his ground. “What is this… this power?”

“From my Class.” Bob smirked ear to ear as his body began to change. He had almost forgotten the rush, the thrill, and the sensation of magic coursing through his veins and turning his skin into invulnerable scales. “See, Bob’s my name, but my real Ranker moniker…” 

Class Transformation: Mesozoic Emperor (Dwarf Mode).

“Is Kaiju Man.”

—-------

Forgecinders had prepared his entire life for this moment.

Thirty years. It had been thirty years since the world of Earth was taken from its universe, flattened into a new layer of the Worldsoul, and then placed right on top of the Underworld of Subterranea. Thirty years since his people had continued to ascend to the sky in an attempt to claim this new plane’s rich natural resources for themselves through the right of might and conquest. 

Only the humans’ Sanctuary Cities and their Class users stood in the way of their Supreme Overlord’s complete and glorious takeover of the surface. The primate hive of Dorsale had been a thorn in their foot for decades; its resistance so stiff that Forgecinder’s master Addamak had nearly perished trying to take it. The desire to avenge his master’s loss had driven him to gather a warband for this raid. He had probed the Level Barriers for weeks until he finally found a flaw to exploit; weeks spent preparing for an inevitable battle. 

So when that strange human—who was clearly a Class user, to be able to avoid his strike—challenged him to battle, Forgecinders didn’t flinch. The stranger hardly looked like a challenge; in fact, he wasn’t even armed. He came only with his clothes, and while he was only slightly taller and more muscular than most of his kindred, it was not extraordinarily so. The predatory, self-confident glint in his grey eyes did bother Forgecinders, but not enough to startle him. Even as the human began to transform into some kind of monster that rivaled him in size, he held true to his belief and pride as a true son of the earth. 

But as the enemy continued to grow, Forgecinders was forced to look up.

And up.

And up.

And up. 

And up!

As the human’s shadow continued to grow larger and larger, Forgecinders’ courage began to turn to unease, then disbelief, then complete and absolute dread. A towering saurian began to loom over him like a great beast over an insect. Its frame obscured the sun and cast the entire area in darkness. 

It had to be a hundred feet tall at a minimum, maybe more. Over five times Forgecinders’ size, and tall enough to rival the primal Behemoths roaming the Underworld. A mighty titan with black scales thicker than a fortress’ walls, red spines glowing with crimson energy on its back, and a gaping maw waiting to swallow him whole. 

Something began to drip down Forgecinders’ thighs. Something warm and steamy that smelled of fear.  

“And I don’t fight weaklings,” the mountain said as it raised its knee closer to the sky with a rumbling cacophony. “I stomp them.”

The last thing Forgecinders saw was the image of a giant, four-clawed foot falling down on him.

—-------

Bob stomped the fire giant and most of his mooks in a single, earthshaking step.

His foot descended upon them like the hammer of God. The impact crushed the pavement all the way to the sewers below, pulverized the concrete until it cracked an open hole about as big as the one the Underworlders used to infiltrate the city, and sent a devastating wave of debris flying in all directions. 

In short, minimal damage by his standards. How good it felt to have achieved self-restraint. Like a victory over oneself.

“Hey?” Bob slightly raised his toe to check the mangled body beneath. “You’re still alive?”

A deathly rattle answered his question. The fire giant performed about as well as a mouse being stepped on by a human: laying in a puddle of magma blood, his limbs twisted, barely hanging on to life amidst the piles of dust that used to be his mooks.

“Good. I’m sorry I had to…” Bob smirked as he leaned down to better taunt his target. “Wipe the floor with you.”

“Ugh…” the fire giant groaned in either agony or humiliation. Probably both.

Bob decided to put salt on his wounds to make sure. “I guess we started on the wrong foot.”

“Ugh!”

“I’m a shy guy, so I usually tiptoe around these issues.”

“Stop it…” The fire giant begged for death. “This is worse… than the pain…”

“So you say!” Bob squinted upon noticing tiny spots near the soon-to-be-corpse. A few of the Underworld mooks had survived and were trying to make a break for it. “So much for delicateness.”

Bob checked his surroundings. The crossroads and streets were unfortunately rather narrow, even with his Dwarf Mode on. He barely had enough space to squeeze through two rows of buildings. A single wrong turn would cause his tail to sweep away entire houses. 

Such was his curse, to be big and strong in this dollhouse of a world. 

A punch or firebreath would probably cost him more in collateral damage payments than the C-rank mission’s pay, forcing Bob to think outside the box. He thus grabbed the limp fire giant, and then used it as a feather duster to mop up any survivors. 

“Sweep, sweep!” he whistled while waving the fire giant’s body at the ground, smashing any Underworlder that hadn’t yet crawled back into their hole and finishing off Forgecinders. Each hit sent pieces of magma brains flying alongside eyes and other parts, but left the pavement relatively intact. “That’s what I call a job well do–” 

Bob froze upon sensing something brushing against his mighty tail. He peeked over his shoulder to find himself staring at a house whose upper floor had entirely been swept away, revealing a torn-down bathroom. A man was sitting on the toilet and staring at Bob in utter terror. 

Uh oh.

Fuck, this guy had seen him! There were eyewitnesses now!

Worse, Bob heard a mosquito-like sound approaching his ear. He turned just in time to spot a tiny helicopter flying towards him with a cameraman onboard. The media was here, and he was about to be caught in the act. 

Here goes nothing!

“Kaiju Man, undefeated! Kaiju Man, saving the day!” Bob roared to the sky, one of his hands raised in a V-sign at the helicopter while the other held the fire giant corpse like a mangled doll. “Kaiju Man, best hero in the world! Buy my merch! Buy my plushies!”

He needed money right now!

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A/N: yeah, I've been toying with that one for a while. It would be akin to a System Apocalypse-meet-Vainqueur and One Punch Man. Would be happy to read what you think of it in the comments.