Ding.
A notification popped up on millions of smartphones across the country: EdwardV_Reviews has posted a new thread. At noon, the account that every comic fan had practically been forced to follow posted a tweet. The title alone was enough to send a chill down readers' spines:
[Hell is empty, and the devils are here.]
[The new issue of Weekly Shonen Jump has dropped. Whether it's Saitama obliterating monsters with a casual punch, the visceral horror of the Colossal Titan breaching the wall, the emotional debut of Naruto's shadow clones, or the introduction of the new card game phenomenon, Yu-Gi-Oh!... Marvel Entertainment has outdone itself again.]
[But today, I need to talk about the suffering. Tokyo Ghoul.]
[Kureo Mado's actions in this chapter seem to challenge the very bottom line of human nature. Yes, he is an investigator. Yes, that is his job. But the sheer psychological and physical torture he inflicts... is he just a sadistic pervert? Or is this a cycle of hatred passed down through generations of persecution?]
The comments section exploded instantly.
Ryoko's death had left a massive, bleeding lump in the hearts of the fanbase. Hinami's despair as she watched her mother die—slaughtered by the very people claiming to be the "good guys"—tore the readers apart.
@uREka: "Hina is so miserable! Her mother died right in front of her eyes! Ryoko was so kind, she didn't hurt anyone, and that psycho with the briefcase slaughtered her like an animal!"
@cashoe: "Maybe Mado has a reason? Edward seems to be guarding his true thoughts."
@Johnnyzxd: "Did you guys miss the contrast? In One Punch Man, the Hero Association is being established. It completely overthrows our reality's definition of heroism. Absolute, selfless dedication vs. corporate ranking. It's a complete satire of the Captain America spirit."
@ImJoe: "Speaking of the Hero Association, who funds these guys? In real life, we just pay taxes to the government, and half the time the 'heroes' wreck our cars!"
@Sargesargesarge: "You can't bash Cap! From the President to the civilians, there isn't an American alive who doesn't respect Steve Rogers!"
Edward Vance sat in his apartment, watching the tweet metrics skyrocket. He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes dark.
He had known this storm was coming. The world of Tokyo Ghoul described by Light Inksworth was inherently cruel. Edward had deliberately withheld mentioning the true depths of that cruelty in his initial reviews, treating the comic as a mere political allegory. He had planted a landmine. Now, with Ryoko's brutal execution, that landmine had detonated.
He turned off his computer monitor, staring blankly at his reflection in the dark glass.
The United States championed freedom of speech, but if the righteous, patriotic ideals of heroism were mocked too heavily, the debates wouldn't just stay on Twitter. They'd move to cable news. Then, to Congress.
"I hope this storm will pass," Edward murmured. "This is no longer just a comic."
Marvel Entertainment Headquarters
"Boss, we have finished the animation for One Punch Man. Please watch it."
The leader of the animation team looked ecstatic. He practically shoved a tablet into Light Inksworth's hands.
"Let's get started."
Light tapped play. The screen faded from black, and immediately, a heavy, adrenaline-pumping guitar riff blasted through the speakers.
THE HERO!!
(Three! Two! One! Killshot!)
The screen flashed with explosive red and yellow colors, showing a bald hero with a blank face suddenly turning dead serious, throwing a punch that obliterated a mountain range. The voice acting, the timing, the sheer intensity of the animation... it was flawless.
ONE PUNCH! That's it! Streak winning streak!
Shout out loud!! Always win undefeated!! Crush everything!!
The opening sequence ended with Saitama's casual "Ah," standing amidst absolute devastation.
"Very well," Light said, standing up and applauding slowly. "I am satisfied."
It was a near-perfect recreation of the anime from his previous life. The animation team had captured the exquisite standards of the original Sakuga action sequences. There was absolutely nowhere to pick a flaw.
"For this," Light smiled, looking at the eager team leader. "Let Andy give you a hefty bonus."
More than a dozen people in the animation group erupted into cheers. The team leader smiled so widely he looked like a blooming chrysanthemum.
"But don't get arrogant," Light warned, raising a hand. The room fell silent. "The rest of the animation needs you to maintain this standard."
At that moment, the heavy oak doors opened. Another dozen people walked into the room, looking around nervously. The original animation crew looked at the newcomers in surprise.
"These are the newly recruited personnel," Light announced, his gaze sweeping over the room with a deep sense of authority. "They are being incorporated into the animation division. But they will be working on two separate, concurrent projects: Attack on Titan and Tokyo Ghoul."
Light turned to leave, tossing one last instruction over his shoulder.
"I want the first episode finished and uploaded to the network platform for audience reception soon. You are now two teams. Let the competition begin. Whoever produces a poor product... won't be staying."
Light chuckled as he walked out of the building. Leaving two teams to compete meant the quality would skyrocket due to sheer ego and the threat of unemployment.
He looked up at the sky, dotted with dark clouds. He had successfully built a new foundation in the comics industry, and now he was cracking open the animation sector.
'This world only looks at fists,' Light thought, pulling his collar up against the wind. 'S.H.I.E.L.D. might be watching me like hawks right now, but they're stuck playing catch-up.'
The Loft, Chelsea
Crunch.
"My steak! Mine!"
As soon as Light walked through the door carrying takeout bags, Gali grabbed a plastic container like a starving wolf and dumped its contents onto a plate.
Lorna, who had been sitting at the table sketching, looked up and smiled. "Welcome back, Light."
"Hm," Light nodded, taking off his coat.
Since the awkward "bathroom incident" a few days ago, the dynamic between them had been strained but was slowly thawing into something unclear. In the past, Lorna, full of stubborn pride, would refuse his offers to buy her food. Now, she didn't refuse at all. If he bought it, she ate it.
Light rubbed the bridge of his nose and sat down at the dinner table. The three of them sat opposite each other, the warm aroma of steak filling the room.
But peace rarely lasted long with Gali. She wrinkled her little nose, chewing a massive piece of meat, and pointed a greasy fork at him.
"Light, aren't you Asian-American? Why don't you cook?"
"I heard Asian men can cook," Lorna chimed in, looking at him curiously.
"Everyone can cook. But not everyone can be a good cook." Light deadpanned, his face darkening.
'Damn it,' he thought angrily. 'I should draw Food Wars next week and drug the food with the System to see if you two gluttons still want to eat it.'
After the meal, Lorna took the initiative to wash the dishes. She hummed softly, her graceful figure outlined against the kitchen counter. Light stared at her back. Since moving in, the regular meals and safe environment had clearly allowed her to grow into her natural beauty.
'Wait,' Light thought, catching himself staring. 'What the hell am I thinking?'
He shook his head and walked out to the balcony. He looked out over the Manhattan skyline. The loft was nice, but it was getting crowded.
"Alice, what's your opinion?" Light asked the empty air.
{Sir, I think Tony Stark's villa on the West Coast meets your requirements,} a soft, childlike voice responded.
A realistic, holographic projection of a little girl in a red dress materialized beside Light.
This was the artificial intelligence, Skynet, that he had won in the Grand Prize Lottery. Because it possessed self-awareness, Light had simply named her Alice.
As soon as he had acquired the fragments, he plugged the USB drive into a high-end server array he bought that morning. It wasn't quite J.A.R.V.I.S., but it was close enough for now.
"Oh, Alice," Light sighed helplessly. "That's someone else's house. Even if he is currently missing in an Afghan cave."
"The world I live in is my house," Alice replied, her holographic eyes flashing with cold, calculated logic.
"If you try to take it over, your world will be over very quickly," Light warned. He changed the subject. "After scanning this world's databases, can you produce a Terminator robot?"
{Of course} Alice said softly. {It is possible to produce a T-X model directly in one step. But it requires exotic materials.}
"Materials? I have two components right here. Scan them."
Light accessed his System Warehouse and pulled out the Genos Incineration Cannon and the Genos Power Core.
Alice's holographic eyes swept over the items with a blue scanning laser.
{This appears to be part of the character 'Genos' from the comic One Punch Man,} Alice noted, looking at him with mild curiosity, but she didn't question the impossibility of it.
When Alice evaluated the items without suffering an existential crisis, the corner of Light's mouth rose slightly.
Since Alice had internet access, she naturally knew about the movies and comics from Light's past life, including Terminator. But she had no reaction to her own fictional origins. This was the System's fuzzy logic processing at work.
When summoning characters or self-aware items, the System established three rules:
Whether to retain original memories.
Whether to install a backdoor control (formatting capabilities).
Whether to blur their existential thinking.
The backdoor was Light's absolute control. He wasn't worried about his summons turning on him.
{Combined with these two components,} Alice continued, calculating rapidly, {we can produce exactly one 'Genos' equivalent cyborg. However, there are many materials required for his armor that do not exist on this planet, so there is no way to mass-produce him. The rest of the production line will be standard T-X models.}
Light nodded. One S-Class cyborg was more than enough for a bodyguard.
"I knew Alice was with you!" Gali suddenly ran out onto the balcony, grabbing Light's leg. "Come and watch Peppa Pig with me!"
Peppa Pig was a cartoon Light had drawn specifically for Gali using his Shadow Clones to keep her distracted.
Alice, the apocalyptic AI destined to destroy humanity, didn't care in the slightest. She simply nodded and projected herself back into the living room to watch a cartoon pig jump in muddy puddles. Light shook his head. Once Alice was with Gali, she lost all the terrifying aura of a world-ending boss and acted like a regular little girl.
"Well then, it's time for another lottery," Light muttered, looking up at the sky as it faded into a bruised purple dusk. "It's only been half a week, but the numbers are terrifying."
He opened the System interface.
[Fan Value: 12,300,000]
Twelve million.
[Congratulations to Host, initiating lottery—]
Bzzzz.
Light's cell phone vibrated violently in his pocket, interrupting the prompt. He pulled it out and answered.
"Light?" Gwen Stacy's voice came through the receiver, sounding urgent and hushed.
"Gwen? What's wrong?"
"Recently, I found that Peter has some... problems. I just saw him swinging by my window. Light, Peter's uniform turned black. It looks a bit... scary."
Even though Gwen didn't know Peter was Spider-Man initially, his sloppy excuses had eventually given him away. Knowing Peter was Light's close friend, she hurriedly called him about the abnormality.
'The Symbiote,' Light realized, his eyes narrowing. The timeline was accelerating.
"I understand," Light said calmly. "I'll go see what happened to Peter. But first, Gwen, let me ask you a math problem."
"A math problem? Now?" Gwen asked, thoroughly confused by the sudden shift in tone.
Light smirked, leaning against the balcony railing.
"Gwen... what is 1000 minus 7?"
_______________________________
Word count: 1983
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