Alright, my beautiful degenerates and basement-dwelling lurkers—gather around, because I got some stat wisdom to drop on your chaotic wonderful brains.
Yes, stats. You seen 'em. You've laughed at them. You cried at them (probably Ryuu's LUK stat, let's be honest). But now it's time you understood them.
So here it is—THE OFFICIAL STAT EXPLANATION. From me. To you. With love and the occasional flaming dumpster of emotional damage.
STR (Strength)
Punch things harder. Carry heavier crap. Look like you can beat someone's dad in a parking lot.
The higher your STR, the more you can yeet someone into orbit. This is your go-to stat for face-breaking, door-kicking, and bench-pressing trauma. Low STR? You'll be hitting like Mineta on a bad day. High STR? You're dragging villains by the collar through three walls and an office window.
AGI (Agility)
Speed. Reflexes. Dodging like your ex is texting you.
This stat covers how fast you move, how quickly you react, and whether you look like a graceful ninja or a drunken toddler on rollerblades. High AGI means parkour like a demon and dodging attacks before the enemy even sneezes. Low AGI means you're getting smacked before you even process the word "fight."
INT (Intelligence)
Not "Can recite the periodic table" smart. More like "Can outwit a villain with duct tape and sarcasm" smart.
INT is the combat brain stat. It's battle instincts, tactical finesse, rapid problem-solving, and how fast you adapt when shit hits the fan. It's how well you learn from getting your ass kicked—and how soon you kick back harder. How experienced you are in general.
It does not mean you're a walking calculator. You could be a dropout with Einstein-level battlefield awareness. This is what separates the pros from the human sandbags. Some got it higher than Ryuu because they had been fighting for years.
CHA (Charisma)
Charm, clout, presence, intimidation, fame, infamy, and the sheer audacity of your existence.
CHA is your ability to influence the room—whether you're wowing the press, roasting Bakugo until he combusts, or making a villain question their life choices mid-fight.
This ain't just about being "likeable." Stain had high CHA because his ideology hit harder than his sword. Endeavor's got CHA because fire daddy's scary and jacked. Ryuu's CHA? Off the damn charts. He could charm the pants off a nun and talk shit to a war criminal in the same sentence. You feel him when he walks in the room, and you remember the roast long after the fight's over.
LCK (Luck)
...Yeah, okay. Let's talk about the elephant in the room made of glitter and banana peels.
LUK was added for comedic spice, alright? I slapped it in thinking "haha wouldn't it be funny if he had one luck?" I did not know every isekai this side of the multiverse already did that. My bad. If I knew it was an overused trope, I probably would've made something new like a "Horny Resilience" stat or "Number of Crimes Committed While Shirtless."
But hey—LUK still slaps for this fic's purposes. Especially because Ryuu's luck is not cursed, it's just playing 4D chess in a room full of landmines and horny pro heroes. Everything goes wrong around him, but somehow, he still wins. That's comedy, baby.
TL;DR FOR YOUR ADHD GREMLIN BRAINS:
STR = How hard you punch the trauma away.
AGI = Whether you dodge the trauma or get hugged by it.
INT = Outsmarting your trauma before it gets comfy.
CHA = Making trauma fall in love with you.
LUK = Flipping off trauma and still surviving by accident.
And remember: this fic? This glorious, unhinged, slightly illegal story? It is a comedy first. A shitpost second. And a character study third, but only if the characters are drunk, emotionally unstable, and trying to punch their feelings into submission.
So keep your stats high, your comebacks savage, and your expectations low. Because in this universe?
Failure is temporary. But sarcasm? That's eternal.
Now get back to reading, you beautiful goblins. Your Humble Narrator got more chaos to write.
Daily Meme Here
-----
I purchased another Basic Face Changer Mask for 200 Points in the System Shop after helping two heroes Stain took down before and sprinted toward the center of the chaos. Nomu had already turned the streets into a warzone. If my vigilante identity, Bastard Hero, and I showed up at the same time, someone would start asking questions. Time to change things up.
I pulled out the mask and activated it. My face shifted, hair turning blonde, features sharpening. I adjusted my stance, rolling my shoulders. New look, same bastard inside. I grabbed Stain's sword and took off.
Hosu's main street was a wreck. Cars flipped, buildings cracked, smoke thick in the air. Screams and sirens blended with the deep, guttural growls of Nomu rampaging through the streets. Two of them. One had reinforced arms thicker than tree trunks, the other was smaller but moved faster, darting between attacks with unnatural reflexes.
Endeavor was there, flames roaring as he launched another jet of fire at the bigger one. It barely reacted, pushing forward like it didn't even feel the heat. Mirko was mid-air, spinning to deliver a brutal kick to the faster Nomu's head. The impact sent a shockwave through the street, but the creature twisted and lashed out with a clawed hand, forcing her to backflip away.
Ryukyu was near a collapsed storefront, helping civilians while keeping an eye on the fight. A few no-name heroes were trying to corral bystanders, but they were out of their depth. Too much happening at once, too much damage, too many moving parts.
I slipped into the fray. No hero licenses, no official permission—I was operating in the gray. But right now, nobody gave a shit.
A hero I didn't recognize yelled, "Hey! Civilians need to get back—"
I ignored him and launched forward, Quickstep kicking in as I closed the distance to the faster Nomu. It noticed me a second too late. I brought Stain's sword down in a widw arc, aiming for the joint at its shoulder. The blade bit in, but it didn't even cut deep. The Nomu shrieked, spinning to counter, but I was already gone, weaving through its range.
Mirko's eyes flicked toward me, but she didn't stop. She took the opening I made and drove a kick straight into its jaw, sending it sprawling across the pavement. She landed, cracking her knuckles. "Not bad, Blondie."
The bigger Nomu charged Endeavor, shrugging off flames like they were a warm breeze. The number two hero gritted his teeth, then launched forward with a fiery punch that connected squarely with its chest. The beast barely flinched before swinging a meaty fist at his head.
I groaned in my mind. 'The fuck am I doing here?'
Hosu was a damn warzone. Nomu rampaged through the streets, heroes fought to keep control, and I was in the middle of it, wearing another face and holding a stolen sword.
[QUEST UPDATE: SURVIVE.]
Yeah, no shit.
I crouched low, keeping to the rubble as Endeavor blasted the larger Nomu with a wave of fire. The thing barely reacted, shoving through the flames like it was wading through a kiddie pool. The smaller Nomu darted through the chaos, dodging Mirko's rapid strikes, claws flashing as it aimed for her throat. She twisted mid-air, avoiding the swipe, then drove her foot straight into its chest, sending it skidding across the pavement.
I took a breath. No hero license meant I couldn't stick. Needed to be smart. Tactical. Hit fast, hit hard, disappear.
The smaller Nomu recovered from Mirko's kick, screeching before launching itself toward a group of heroes trying to move injured civilians. They weren't going to react in time.
Fuck it.
I bolted, Quickstep pushing me forward as I closed the gap. The Nomu lunged, claws ready to tear through them, and I intercepted, slamming Stain's sword into its side. The blade cut, but not deep. Its skin was like rubber.
It screeched, twisting toward me. I ducked under its swipe, flipping over its back and slicing at the tendons in its legs. Not enough to disable, but enough to stagger.
"Hey, ugly!" I called. "Your mom fucks pigeons!"
Its red eyes snapped to me.
[QUEST BONUS: PISS OFF THE WRONG PERSON AND GET AWAY WITH IT.]
It lunged, forgetting the heroes, and I bolted. I led it between overturned cars, weaving through wreckage, making it chase. I wasn't fighting this thing—I was dragging it away.
Mirko noticed. "Oi, Blondie! You wanna actually finish that thing?"
I felt a quip trying to get out like a bad nacho pushing through my butthole. Hold it in! Hold it in! If I answered, she would guess my identity.
Mirko's eyes narrowed. She didn't slow down, keeping her focus on the Nomu, but I could tell—she was analyzing me. Shit. Not good.
Instead of answering, I sprinted forward and went for another strike. Stain's sword wasn't doing much damage, but that wasn't the point. Every time I cut the Nomu, it flinched. Every time it flinched, Mirko hit it harder. That was my job.
Disrupt. Redirect. Keep moving.
I slashed low, aiming for the tendons. The Nomu jerked its leg back, opening up its stance. Mirko saw the opening and went in, her kick smashing into its ribs and sending it flying into a crushed police car.
Endeavor wasn't wasting time with the bigger one. Flames roared around him as he tackled it through a building, the entire structure shaking from the impact.
With most of the civilians already evacuated, Ryukyu shifted, her form expanding as she transformed into her dragon state. Her massive wings spread wide, sending dust and debris swirling around her as she let out a sharp breath. "Endeavor, Mirko, I'm joining the fight."
The bigger Nomu, still shrugging off Endeavor's flames, turned its head toward her. It was processing, deciding if she was a bigger threat. It made its choice. It lunged.
Ryukyu didn't hesitate. She met it head-on, claws raking across its chest as it crashed into her, shaking the street. She held firm, keeping it locked down. The faster Nomu twitched, ready to move in support—
I bolted, slipping between wreckage, getting closer. I slid behind a flipped taxi, keeping low. The fast Nomu darted forward, aiming for Mirko's blind spot while she was still mid-air. She saw it at the last second, twisting, but it was too close—
I grabbed a loose pipe from the ground and hurled it like a spear. It clanged against the Nomu's skull, barely doing damage, but the momentary distraction was enough. Mirko twisted her body, flipping mid-air, and slammed a heel into its temple. The impact sent it crashing through a storefront.
I ducked again before anyone could get a clear look at me. The big Nomu roared, sending Ryukyu skidding back. Its skin was regenerating too fast. Endeavor sent another wave of flames, but the damn thing barely reacted. It turned toward him. That was bad. If it closed the gap, his fire wouldn't be enough to stop it.
I grabbed a chunk of concrete and hurled it at the Nomu's knee. Again, no real damage, but it made it flinch. I sprinted closer, staying in its blind spot.
Endeavor caught the movement. His eyes narrowed. "Who the hell—"
I didn't let him finish. I grabbed a metal rod and swung it at the Nomu's exposed tendon. Again, not enough to do real damage, but enough to throw it off. It jerked to the side, and Endeavor took the opening, flames roaring as he drove a burning fist into its ribs.
The Nomu staggered. I ducked behind cover before anyone could properly look at me.
The fast Nomu wasn't down yet. It burst from the rubble, screeching, eyes locked onto Mirko. She grinned. "Oh, you're pissed now? Good." She dashed forward.
I waited. Waited. As soon as she engaged, I sprinted in from the side. The Nomu was too focused on Mirko to register me in time. I reached its back, grabbed the first loose object I could—someone's discarded bike—and slammed it into the back of its knee. (Mumen Rider much?)
It lurched, balance thrown. Mirko saw the shift and capitalized. Her fist crashed into its throat. The Nomu choked, falling to one knee. She followed up with a brutal roundhouse, sending it flying again.
Situation seemed to be under control. I left the place, sent the mask back to the inventory, and made my way back to the alley where the Hero Killer was. Other heroes were going to call the police, but just in case.
When I arrived, Stain was still bound, tied up in thick ropes, barely moving. His head hung low, blood dripping from his mouth. Looked like they knocked him out earlier.
Then his fingers twitched.
The second he lifted his head, I knew something was off. His breathing got deeper, steadier. His eyes snapped open, bloodshot but sharp. The moment he saw me, his entire body tensed.
Then he pulled.
The ropes snapped like they were made of string.
A hero nearby jumped. "What the hell?! Stay down!"
Stain didn't even look at him. His eyes were on me. He rolled his shoulders, cracks running through his neck and arms as his muscles flexed. He looked like a goddamn horror movie villain, standing there bloodied, still bleeding, but ready to move.
His mouth curled. "The world is rotten."
I sighed. "Oh, here we go."
"You saw it tonight, didn't you? The hypocrisy. The corruption. False heroes who fight for nothing but fame, money, self-importance." He took a step forward. Nobody moved. "They do not fight for the people. They do not fight for justice. They do not deserve the title of hero."
Another step.
A hero to my left went for his phone. "We need—"
Stain moved.
One second, he was standing still. The next, the guy's radio was on the ground, sliced deep.
Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
"Cowards," Stain muttered, gaze flicking between them before settling back on me. "You are the same. No heroic conduct, no selfless heart. Selfish vermin who feed on society's fears. Suppressed people who are forced to look up to you!"
His fingers twitched. Blood still dripped down his face, but his stance was solid. Like pain did not matter. Like he was still in control.
"This world is rotten. You fight in your stadiums, you wave to your fans, you let the weak suffer while pretending to care. A child looks up to a hero, expecting salvation, but what does he see? Lies. Greed. You all take this title and parade it as if it means something!"
One of the heroes nearby twitched but did not move. Nobody did.
"True justice has no sponsors! True justice has no salary! A hero fights because he must, not because he is paid to! But you all—" He exhaled sharply, chest rising. "You do not fight for justice. You fight for fame, for status, for power. That is why you do not deserve to win."
I rolled my shoulders. "Yeah, yeah, society's fucked. You done?"
His eye twitched. "You mock it because you know it is true."
"Nah, I mock it because you're full of shit."
I swung.
He ducked, but I was already stepping in, twisting to drive my elbow into his ribs. His breath hitched. My bat followed, slamming into his shoulder. He staggered.
"You keep talking about corruption like it's some big revelation." I swung again. He barely blocked, but the force still sent him skidding. "You think you're the first guy to realize the world ain't perfect?"
He adjusted his grip, trying to lunge. I stepped aside, grabbed his wrist, and twisted. His side blade clattered to the ground.
"You really think you're some messiah, huh?" I drove my fist into his ribs. He barely grunted, but I could feel the hit sink in. "Out here, killing people 'cause they don't meet your fucked-up purity test? What, you think the world's gonna clap for you? Give you a medal? Name a fucking holiday after you?"
He staggered back, panting.
I didn't let up. "You bitch about heroes wanting money, fame, attention. You ever wonder why they chase that shit?" I swung my bat into his gut. He lurched forward, coughing. "Because it makes them work harder. You don't get to the top without proving you belong there. You don't get to be remembered unless you do something worth remembering."
He wiped blood from his mouth. "They—"
"Shut the fuck up." My bat slammed into his jaw. His head snapped sideways, body twisting as he barely kept himself upright. "You think heroes are supposed to be saints? Get a grip. They're human, dipshit. They need money to live. They want fans because it fuels them. They crave more because 'more' means staying in the fight."
He steadied himself, teeth gritted.
"Yeah, some of them are fake as shit. Yeah, some of them do it for the wrong reasons. But tell me this, asshole—" I cracked my knuckles, stepping in. "When you were bleeding out in an alley, did a paycheck-cashing hero save your ass? Or did you lie there, waiting for your 'real heroes' that don't fucking exist?"
His eye twitched.
"That's the thing, isn't it?" I grabbed his collar, pulling him close before slamming my forehead into his nose. He reeled back, blood splattering against the pavement. "Even the worst pro hero still shows up. Even the glory-chasing, cash-grabbing bastards will put their lives on the line."
He exhaled sharply. "They—"
"They what? They want recognition? They want to be admired?" I spat on the ground. "Who gives a shit? The job still gets done. The villain still goes down. The people still get saved."
His grip tightened, but his arms were shaking.
"You out here thinking you're making a difference?" I swung again, knocking him sideways. "You think killing a few pros is fixing the world?" Another hit. His legs wobbled. "You ain't fixing shit." I slammed my bat into his stomach. He dropped to his knees.
I grabbed his face, forcing him to look at me. "A hero's a human. They get tired, they get greedy, they fuck up. But they still fucking try. And that's more than I can say for your worthless ass."
His breathing was ragged. His fingers twitched. But he had nothing left.
I let go. He collapsed onto the pavement, barely staying conscious.
I stepped back, resting my bat on my shoulder. "You want a world without fake heroes? Keep dreaming. People are flawed. Society is fucked. But you wanna know the difference between you and them?" I pointed down at him. "They're still standing. And you're lying in the dirt."
Sirens screamed in the distance. A news chopper hovered above.
I turned away. "Fight's over. Clean up the trash."
Final Gains:
✔ Total XP: +2,450 XP
Stat Boosts:
✔ +5 to All Stats (Except Luck) (Main Quest Completion)
✔ +1 Awareness
✔ +1 Endurance
✔ +3 Combat Proficiency
✔ +1 Strength
✔ +3 Intelligence
✔ +4 Charisma
✔ +7 Stamina
New Skills & Passives:
✔ "Gambler's Grit" (Passive) – The lower your HP, the higher your critical hit chance. Also slightly improves luck when making risky choices.
✔ "Slippery Bastard" (Passive) – Increases ability to escape holds, grapples, and restraints. Slipping through tight spaces becomes easier, including dodging last-second attacks like a human eel.
✔ "Devil's Advocate" (Passive) – Boosts persuasion when arguing against authority, flipping conversations in Ryuu's favor. Also slightly enhances intimidation when making wild claims sound believable.
✔ "Cheat Death (Passive/Trigger)" – If Ryuu takes a fatal hit while in motion, he automatically redirects the force to another part of his body, reducing lethal damage to something survivable. Can only trigger once per battle.
✔ "Spiteful Resilience" (Passive) – The angrier Ryuu gets, the less damage he takes. Insults, humiliation, and pettiness fuel his pain resistance.
✔ "Bullshit Sensor" (Passive) – Ryuu has an enhanced instinct for detecting bluffs, lies, and sketchy situations in both combat and conversation. He can't always prove it, but he'll feel it.
New System Features:
✔ Emergency Signal (System Function)
"In case of extreme dumbassery, press this button."
Allows silent, undetectable distress signals to designated allies.
Cannot be tracked unless recipient actively responds.
✔ "Emergency Stunt Double" (System Function) – Allows Ryuu to remotely control a decoy or recorded action, making it look like he's somewhere he isn't. Can be used once a day, lasting up to 10 minutes before disappearing. (If not used for full 10 minutes, can be used again to fill up the remaining time)
---
And when the Seventh Seal was broken,
A voice boomed across the heavens:
"WHY THE HELL HAVEN'T YOU POWER STONED THIS NOVEL?!"
Thunder cracked.
The skies split open.
And lo, Ryuu descended, holding the Holy Tablet of Refresh Buttons.
Stone now, or witness the Four Horsemen: Spoilers, Delays, Writer's Block, and Dropping your fav novel.
-----
To Read up to 75 advance Chapters (25 for each novel) and support me...
patreon.com/thefanficgod1
Please drop a comment and like the chapter!