I'm the Bad Guy: Bigger, Badder, and Uncut: A Supervillain LitRPG Adventure

by Simon Archer

  GODDAMNIT, DIDN’T ANYONE WANT TO TALK ABOUT SOMETHING OTHER THAN THAT STUPID GAME?! IT’D BEEN OUT FOR MONTHS, NOW! JESUS! I SWEAR, I DIDN’T EVEN TYPE THAT INTO THE SEARCH ENGINE! FUCK!

  Whatever, as long as I wasn’t playing it, and I wasn’t going to post anything about it, on purpose or accidentally! Then I’d be fine, right? Maybe I’d watch some current events about the game, and I could just relish in the fact that other people were going to be targeted by the demon inside the video game and not me. Maybe I could even try to pick one out? Yeah, there were millions of people to choose from, but could anyone have imagined the luck?

  I *ahem* “coincidentally” stumbled upon a livestreaming site and tuned into a livestream of a particular gamer playing The Forge of Heroism. And, JUST BY RANDOM COINCIDENCE, this gamer happened to be ‘MurderMan%0981XxXxX,’ the new guildmaster to the Retributioners that kicked me out. He was more than ten fucking levels underneath me, and a horseshitshow of a gamer, but I didn’t fucking care anymore. Whatever happened to the Retributioners was beneath me now. But, just to check on them, I decided to see what was up with him.

  He was in Tirnberg, MY CITY, and making an absolute mess of things there. I’d worked tooth and nail to get the Retributioners the city key to Tirnberg, so we’d be able to milk all of that sweet, sweet, exclusive crimefighter XP for the city. That was me, not MurderMan. MurderMan was fucking posing right now, livestreaming, like he was a fucking god! THAT’S SUPPOSED TO BE ME! And his hero build was fucking pitiful. Who would have even used a power gauntlet on a mystic hero, anyway? Everyone knew that mystic heroes got debuffs for every gadget that they used unless they invested in the gadget hero origin tree as well to at least level ten. But, since mystic heroes couldn’t get tier 5 spells until at least they were level twenty, and he was drooling over Bloodfire Explosion like every mystic hero ever did, he was stuck with, like, no DPS and zero health. But he’s got his Bloodfire Explosion and his power gauntlet, so good for that asshole.

  He was right in the middle of finishing his last patrol daily quest, trying to keep up that quota, and sucking ass at it, too. He had a fucking power gauntlet, which meant that all of his AOE skills were twice as big, and he could just strafe the city streets looking for bad guys to kill. Some people didn’t think that was a good idea, since sometimes those AOE attacks hit civilians, which put a dent in the overall XP, but if they had the other heroes scaring the people off the streets like they should, then maybe that wouldn’t be a fucking problem.

  Anyway, MurderMan was riding his magic horse through the streets, not strafing the city with power-gauntlet bombs, until he made it all the way to the pier. That was something else I also snagged for us: a pier city. Did anyone have any idea how good it was for us aquatic bio heroes to have a source of water on tap? We’d fucking wreck shit on the pier side! Well, whatever, sucks for those guys. Now the piers weren’t being watched by Undersea Man, and they’d fucking miss me, eventually.

  Just then, MurderMan’s camera stayed focused on the sea out to the pier. Like, fuck, dude, where were you looking? Crime happened in the city, dumbass! Ocean crime only happened on the oil rigs, and we didn’t have any oil rigs out--

  Hold on a minute. There was something out there. MurderMan’s chat was flaring up with comments about something in the distance. When I gave it another look, the little blip out there was starting to get bigger and bigger. Fuck, if I was in there, Undersea Man could have swum out and checked it out. Whatever, fuck those guys. They’d have to deal with the new oil rig that somehow spawned out there--

  No, wait, no, that wasn’t an oil rig. Oil rigs didn’t have planes flying around them. That was a fucking aircraft carrier. And the planes were flying straight for the city. Was… was Tirnberg being fucking invaded?

  4

  God, I loved the smell of machine oil in the morning. Smelled like victory.

  The jets were flying through the air, launching ballistic missiles on the pier in several waves. When they weren’t firing missiles, they were showering the pier side with bullets until they passed over, letting the next wave rush over them. Warehouses, boats, docks, all turned to rubble and smoke. After the last wave of missiles and fighter jets came the heavy bombers, the big planes with the massive payloads that made the first round of explosions look like firecrackers on a wet curbside. The timing was perfect: the Retributioners would be finishing up their patrol quests about this time, which would put half of them at the pier, essentially wiping away whatever formidable resistance that Tirnberg would have had to stop me. Any heroes left over would be whatever small fry that was either not logged in or not part of the patrol quest.

  From my commander’s chair on the bridge of my aircraft carrier, I watched as the planes took out all the possible defenses on the pier. My men, street-level crooks and small-time criminals that I’d whipped into a fighting force to shake the world, all sat at computer stations with headsets on, coordinating strikes and mobilizing troops at the touch of a button. On my lap was a thin kitty cat, striped like a tiger, enjoying the scratches I was giving as I enjoyed the next unfolding of my machinations.

  “Yes!” Nick, the dreadlocked scientist with the coke-bottle welder’s goggles on his forehead, jumped from his spot standing next to me, rejoicing at the explosions he saw in the distance. “That’s what I’m talking about! I told you the new prototypes were ready for action! I told you! Shows what you know, boss! Ha! And you said they required more testing. ‘We better, we gotta, we shoulda, oh no, oh no! Too dangerous!’ Well, how’s that for testing! Can you believe those explosions are coming out of a bomb the size of a soda can! Fuck yeah! God, I am so glad they worked out so well! Look at my babies light up that sky! From the ground, might I add? From the goddamn ground.”

  “You sure showed me.” I smiled and rolled my eyes. “I’ll transfer the money as soon as the battle is over.”

  “No skimping out now!” He skipped as he exited through the sliding doors in the back to his next assignment. “That’s a half a million into my research fund! Not a penny less! I’ve already got some tasty ideas that I've been way too expensive for far too long.”

  “You’ve earned it.” I waved him off. “Put it to good use. Make the preparations for the new prototypes we’re about to receive.”

  “Oh, I’m gonna make some weird shit, boss!” Nick thought about all the things his newly expanded research budget could get him. “Like a crazy aerosol that makes you too horny to fight, or a gorilla with an artillery mount that shoots monkeys that explode…!”

  Truth be told, I never doubted Nick’s bombs in the first place. As soon as he told me he had been cooking them up, I was more than convinced he was true to his word. He insisted on the bet, though, and who was I to stop him? Seemed to motivate him to make the bombs not only high impact and destructive, but incredibly well contained to boot. Those canisters could have gone through an earthquake without any restraints to hold them down, and not a thing would happen. Yet, when those triggers were activated, badda bing, badda bye-bye, pier.

  “Yomura, what’s the national army’s response to this looking like?” I held a button down on my command pad, conveniently located right on the arm of my commander’s chair. “How long do we have until they arrive?”

  “About an hour, sir,” Yomura informed me through the intercom. “Based on the current projections of our warpath, we should have more than twenty minutes left by the time we take city hall.”

  “Excellent.” I thanked him. “You can turn your attention to scrambling communications between police and heroes. That should help us keep on schedule. Hell, if we’re quick enough, we might even be able to renovate all the damage we do to the city before they get here.”

  “Already working them over, sir.” Yomura was way ahead of me. “Most of the pier police forces were already mobilized before the attack, thanks to me, and were caught in the bombings. We should have a pretty clear path to downtown from here.”

  “You’re the best, Yomura,” I
said to him, “I don’t pay you enough. Once the plan’s fully in motion, I’ll make sure you’re one of the richest folks around.”

  “As long as I am making more than Nick, I will never complain, sir.” Yomura joked. “I still have yet to forgive him for the trick he pulled on me back in Gomant.”

  “You don’t think that flooding his work computer with obscure porn ads wasn’t enough of a punishment for that?” I laughed. “We had to buy a new computer for him and everything after saving the research onto another drive.”

  “Not after I learned that he kept the infected computer,” Yomura sighed over the com, “apparently, I did him a service by providing him with free pornographic materials. He even thanked me for it afterward, thinking that I was granting him a favor after all. That works in my favor, however, since that leaves me free to think of another method to enact my revenge.”

  “Ha!” I said, “I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for your efforts, and Nick is slightly less so for his.”

  “That is all that I ask.” Yomura signed off to return to work.

  “FrickaFresh, how are things looking on your end?” I held a different button-down to talk to my sniper. “Anything I should worry about?”

  “Well, my guy, I’m doing a better job of keeping civilians off the streets than these cops and heroes are.” FrickaFresh, still sitting atop his post at the top of the bridge, fired off a shot that resounded over the intercom. “Why even have these guys running around in spandex if they’re not gonna help keep the people away from the chaos? They’re all useless, my man. It’d almost be better if they weren’t on the streets at all to keep the collateral damage down.”

  “Do you think that you can help with the police from where you are?”

  “Oh, yeah, my dude, I’ve been working my magic.” Another shot rang out over the com. “I’ve got a barricade of cop cars piling up behind one whose driver I shot. The pier’s basically quarantined off from anyone getting in or out streetside, and I scared most of the civilians away from the pier before the planes were scrambled. I’d be doing more if the earth was flat, my guy, but I’d only been able to start this shit up recently since they came over the horizon.”

  “Gotta say, I’m impressed with what you’re able to do with a quality sniper rifle.” I congratulated him. “I’ll be honest, and I wasn’t expecting you to do much more than give me a better set of eyes on the action.”

  “My man, you insult me.” FrickaFresh scoffed at me. “Just because I just picked up sniping only a couple of months ago doesn’t mean I don’t know how to make my little Sugah Momma sing like a bird in the spring.”

  “Is that the name of the rifle?” My head fell into one of my hands, temporarily leaving the kitty cat alone as I tried to comprehend the name ‘Sugah Momma.’ “Do I even want to know why you thought that was a good name? Should I just leave that line of questioning alone?”

  “What’s wrong with Sugah Momma?” FrickaFresh asked nearly without any sarcasm. “This hot piece of hardware’s got all the fine markings of a quality woman: she’s sleek and lean, and yet hefty and thick, and she’s got a kick that just don’t quit. And when she talks, people listen. There’s no place I’d rather be than resting my head on her while I spoon the shit out of her, just watching her spit straight dope at these fools.”

  Another round blasted through the intercom

  “Yeah, you tell ‘em, Sugah Momma! I love it when you talk dirty!”

  “Just keep me updated on any developments.” I shook my head. “I’ll leave you and Sugah Momma alone for a while so you can… get… do… whatever the hell you want without me having to think about it ever again.”

  “Don’t you be judging my Sugah Momma, boss man,” FrickaFresh Freddie defended his ‘woman.’ “Otherwise, you and her will have a nasty conversation from two miles away that I’m sure you won’t want.”

  “Did you just threaten me, Freddie?” I slightly lifted my head out of my hands.

  “Sir, I swear, I was joking!” FrickaFresh’s tone shifted one hundred and eighty degrees. “Please don’t kill me! I swear, by the Lord Almighty in Heaven, I was just making banter or some shit, nothing serious! I know that you’d probably be able to kill me from two miles away before I could even get my sights on you, fer shur! I would never even dream of harming you or anyone in the syndicate if I was being whipped naked by a fat sumo wrestler!”

  “Oddly specific and arguably unnecessary, but I accept your prostration.” I laughed. It was always good to keep the boys on their toes. “Like I said, keep me posted, and keep up the good work.”

  “Can do, sir!” FrickaFresh’s shaky voice crackled through the intercom. I hadn’t even used my ‘menace’ power on him, and he was already shitting himself. “Over and out! Oh, thank god, I’m safe, Sugah Momma. Jesus, like talking to a tornado in a tie.”

  “Cane, how’s the boarding party looking?” I pressed another button on the com. “Are we ready for the ground assault?”

  “Well,maggots,whaddayasay!” Crazy Cane’s speedy voice sounded quieter as he spoke directly to the fighters he was with. “Areyoureadytobringthepain?! Areyoureadyforblood?!”

  A hollering of voices responded, the enthusiasm palpable over the intercom as they all let out their loudest warcry.

  “Yeah,I’dsaythey’reready,boss!” Crazy Cane responded. “Justgivetheword,andwe’llfuck themupharderthanKatedidtothatguywhomesseduphishair!”

  “Wasn’t that you?” I pointed out.

  “Shemessedmeupgood,boss!”

  “You said you used to be a professional barber.”

  “Ididn’tsayIwaseveragoodbarber!” Crazy Cane highlighted the technicality. “Sheknewshewasrollingthedicewhensheletmeputaknifetoherhead!”

  “Fair point.” I conceded. “As soon as those submarines hit the coast, you can start raising some hell. Make sure to secure the dock so the carrier can approach safely.”

  “Soundslikeaplan,boss!” Crazy Cane said, followed by a loud rumbling sound over the intercom. “Oh,hey,Ithinkwehitland!”

  “Tell me when you’ve got what’s left of the pier secured, and we’ll start our push,” I told him. “Leave the civilians alone, but the police and heroes are fair game.”

  Those civilians were my future workforce. Couldn’t have them unable to do their jobs properly with a missing limb, or calling out to work because they were dead. I had shit that needed to get done quickly.

  “Waaaagh--!” The intercom shut off as Cane rushed out with his soldiers.

  “Hey, boss, something’s coming out of the water.” FrickaFresh piped in from his intercom. “Oh, wait, nevermind, it’s just our guys. Give ‘em hell, Cane!”

  I looked out the window, seeing the black suits of the men coming up from the water, baring their submachine guns and their rifles to start shooting wildly. There weren’t a lot of people nearby, just a few riot policemen that were not prepared for the berserker tactics that my men were throwing at them, namely their own bodies. With the boys in blue unable to handle the onslaught of soldiers being thrown at them, they moved to retreat further into the city.

  “Looks like Cane’s cleaning up down there.” I pressed yet another button, speaking to my favorite musclehead Joe. “Are you and your people ready with the main invasion force?”

  “Mostly,” Joe answered. “We’re waiting for this door to open first, and then we can start killing people.”

  “The main hangar door?” I asked him to clarify. “The one that’s going to let you off the boat and into the city once we dock? Is that the door you’re talking about, Joe?”

  “Yeah, that one,” he said.

  Joe was a simple man.

  “As long as everything else is prepared, I’ll make sure that door opens up myself,” I assured him. “You just make sure that you’re ready to push directly into the city. There might still be a lot more riot police deeper inside to worry about, and you’ve gotta keep them from ever recovering from this initial assault. You’re all wearing the co
mbat armor, right?”

  “The itchy stuff that Nick said will keep them from shooting me, yeah.” Joe, ever the helpful one, was as ready as he could be, following every command to the letter. “I don’t know why you want me to wear this stuff. It’s not like getting shot is that bad.”

  “Buddy, just because you can survive a shotgun blast straight to your chest doesn’t mean that everyone else can, too.” I reminded him for the umpteenth time, “your resistance to bullets is abnormal.”

  “So just make the others wear these plates, then,” Joe reasoned, “that way you can have one more guy protected. I don’t need it, but you might be able to recruit another guy that’ll want to not get shot, right?”

  He was making a lot more sense than I had prepared for.

  “Just keep the armor on.” I resorted to an official order. “You don’t know if they have some special ammunition that’ll mess someone with your durability up, or maybe even an acid that burns through skin. Bullets don’t hurt you, but acid doesn’t care about what bullets can do. Never hurts to be prepared.”

  “Whatever you say, boss,” Joe complied. “Just saying, grenades hurt more. They got all those pointy bits in them, and then Nick’s gotta cut you open to pull them all out.”

  “Please keep the direct grenade blasts to a minimum.” I rubbed my temple. I swear, sometimes Joe was a handful. “I won’t have you dying on me before I finish what I started. You are only allowed to jump on two grenades in this fight, capiche? And if it takes Nick and me more than fifteen minutes to patch you back up, I’m taking any extra time out of your paycheck.”