My Weekly Gag Villain Job is Pretty Fulfilling: Chapter 15
Added 2025-10-21 22:39:56 +0000 UTCMy Weekly Gag Villain Job is Pretty Fulfilling: Chapter 15
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Commissioned by Arksoul
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Interlude: Adam
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“Well, that’s not good.” Thunderer grunted as we looked at the new battle footage. Shadow Entity 2 had the figure of a young woman and wore a frilly gothic gown as she fought against the Sentinels. “All five Sentinels can’t take down one officer.”
“She was forced to retreat.” The Akimitsu drone was elevated to the vanguard squad after her showing against the drone. Her faintly British accent and look drew attention as we sat at a café a block away from headquarters. She wore a beige sweater, a hat, a skirt, and black leggings. The epitome of fall fashion on a chassis designed to be beautiful. Most onlookers didn’t even consider the fact that she was a war machine. I shivered at the thought of her being employed as a weapon of war. “ And, she showcased human reactions and actions during battle. Her survival was entirely due to her durability.”
“Durability that took on four of the Sentinels blasting her with everything they had and survived.” Thunderer scoffed. He wore a bright pink Hawaiian shirt with brighter sunflowers, white, loose shorts, and sandals. His tanned skin and sunglasses made him look like a retiree out to enjoy the beach with more money than he knew what to do with. “Durability that let her escape without injury. In war, if you hit something with your biggest gun and it’s still mobile and escapes, the mission to kill it has failed.”
“The goal of the Sentinels was to prevent me from wreaking havoc. Not to kill it. They achieved that.”
“Tell that to Azure or whoever she is. She was out for that thing’s neck.”
Despite their heated conversation, they were also both eating.
The Akimitsu’s choice of meal was trending. A stack of Liège waffles, which were made of a fermented buttery dough studded with pearls of sugar and cooked like a waffle, rather than the thin batter I was familiar with. Rather than create light and airy shells for toppings, the Liège waffle was covered in fruit or dark chocolate because they were closer to toasted brioche than what I was familiar with. They tasted good, but I preferred regular waffles with syrup and butter.
She ate it steadily, showcasing not much interest in it, and primarily ordered it to post on her social media account and showcase herself to the onlooking public. The outward appearance of the warmachine, a chic, trendy beauty, was making headlines for her corporation. When she ate at the cafeteria out of prying eyes, she primarily drifted to beef bowls with plenty of rice and red ginger.
And soda.
She went through several cans a day, and quite a few were imports.
She enjoyed the fizzy sensation and the array of flavors.
Meanwhile, despite his crassness and appearance, Thunderer had soufflé pancakes with whipped cream, powdered sugar, and strawberries. He took pictures of his food as well, for his own collection, which included hundreds of specialties from across the world. He was an avid traveler and nearly never ordered the same thing at a restaurant twice. We were already halfway through the café’s menu thanks to him. He was already discussing which café to go to next after we were finished with this one. To him, experiencing a restaurant was eating all that it offered, then moving on.
Meanwhile, I was enjoying a well-brewed coffee that didn’t require any milk or sugar. It was one of my few pleasures, especially with Japanese milk bread toasted with butter and jam. To ensure I could properly regenerate, I nearly always had to consume a glucose porridge with every meal with staggering amounts of calories. Even with the tens of thousands of calories that I ate a day, my regeneration’s ability to heal wounds shouldn’t be physically possible; millions should be needed for slight cuts, but when topped up, I could regenerate limbs almost as fast as they were taken off.
Shaking my head away from my power’s overwhelming presence in my life, I offered my own thoughts on the matter.
“I think that it’s a test. A way to probe our ability after we’ve responded. The Sentinels told us that they think whoever’s leading the Shadow Legion now is of our world. Someone who knows how superhumans and organizations operate.” I took a sip of coffee. The bitterness and faint notes of acidity and citrus were welcome. Once swallowed, the lingering taste on the tongue was faintly of chocolate. No staleness from beans that lingered too long. Even if Thunderer decided on a new café, I’ll pick up coffee from here. Maybe I could have them supply the base with coffee? Even pre-ground coffee from a drip machine would be more welcome than what was in the vending machines. They sacrificed flavor for uniform bitterness. “Everyone knows we’ve been created. Everyone knows that task forces assigned to deal with specific threats have been successful. Therefore, whoever’s leading them will try to be different.”
Thunderer gave a sharp nod at my words after a moment.
“Well, when you put it like that, it sounds obvious. Someone who watches the news and is an armchair general would be able to think about ways to fight us.” Thunderer picked at his soufflé pancakes. Not too pleased with them. I told him that he didn’t like the last three pancakes that other cafés had given him, but he persisted stubbornly with his aim to eat all that our current eatery offered. It was likely that I’d be eating the rest of it. “They’ve got their fodder; they know we’re working to fight it, but now they’re trying to make counters. Their own elites.”
“It mirrors my production and that of my sisters. However, whoever this leader is, they must be constrained. Otherwise, there will be far more of these elites present.” The cyborg made a deduction that should have been obvious in hindsight that captured my attention and Thunderer’s. She did not gloat and instead charged forward on her train of thought. “If the Shadow Legion could create them in large numbers, they would, as they have with others. But they are constrained, most likely since many are repulsed by them. If they begin to win, however…”
“Right, now that’ll be a big fucking problem.” Thunderer grunted. “We’ll basically be dealing with a power grantor. One that can just give out incredible durability, regeneration, familiars, teleportation, and long-ranged attacks.” He threw his hands up. “We’ll lose. Hard. We can only hope that they won’t be able to churn them out, even with willing recruits.”
“If that’s the case, then we’ll need to support the Sentinels in their other plans. The ones that they don’t want to put into place.” Both Thunderer and the cyborg grimaced. The barrier plans that would protect solely arcologies and safeguard large populations from the Legion. They told us that was how other worlds survived them. They secluded themselves, invested in learning how to use the Light while blessing their lands to be bountiful, and sacrificed precious metals and gems as fuel for their arcana. “But who knows how long that will last, or if their current leader doesn’t have a plan for that as well?”
Thunderer scowled while the Akimitsu cyborg seemed lost in thought.
I thought that would be the end of the conversation, but the cyborg suddenly spoke.
“No matter what, we should avoid abandoning the rest of the planet. I’ll recommend that we begin more actively assisting the Sentinels and engaging the enemy. It is my hope that with our assistance, the Sentinels can defeat this new threat and destroy it.”
Thunderer was caught by surprise at her words before snorting and attempting to seem noncommittal.
“Easy for you to say. You can just get put back together or put into a new body. We’re out here with one life.”
It was plain in my eyes, though, that he was impressed by her words, even as the War Maiden began to apologize.
Though the task ahead of us was so titanic, as I considered our restful state surrounded by people living their lives as we argued about the future, I couldn’t help but feel hopeful.
There must be something stopping their inexorable advance.
Something that we can use.
As much as I wished to die, I did not want others to do so just so that I could return to my family.
…
“It feels like my brain is going to pop.” Alex’s new training was to expand her ability to control more Imps and more shadows. Both Ebb and I were effectively generals and were made for the task. Unless Alex’s soul and brain were accepted into the Shadow and made eternal, she couldn’t be like us. Therefore, she had to train. “Fuck, that imp’s smashed an egg instead of cracking it.”
The best way for her to train was pretty much to direct multitudes of Imps as they cooked.
Any waste was just consumed, it was easy to scale up, and it provided a myriad of different tasks at differing levels of difficulty.
She had four Imps carrying ingredients back and forth while stacking shelves.
Four more preparing ingredients using various implements at our expansive new kitchen.
Finally, she had four more Imps cooking four different dishes that required four different levels of attentiveness. Risotto, which she just had to stir sometimes and watch the heat of. Omelets, which required speed and focus. Broiled fish that needed careful attention. Then, finally, just learning how to grill various meats.
She’d started with just four Imps, which wasn’t a problem, but twelve without my help or Ebb’s was proving to be difficult.
“We’ve been at this for four hours now, so just finish up your current dishes.” I instructed her, and Alex gave a grunt. She finished the resupply of the kitchen and had the Imps put away the prepared ingredients. Once she was down to six Imps, she looked far less strained. “Twelve under your complete control is great. You just need to rely on the rest to run interference. Use the dozen you can control freely for versatility.”
“Yeah, sounds good.” Alex took a few steadying breaths. The strain of controlling twelve other bodies is fading quickly. If it was a matter of physical or mental strength, it would be no problem. Instead, though, the strain she felt was on her ‘self.’ She was effectively spreading herself out to twelve other bodies while retaining her original form. “Do you think I’ll be able to control more?”
“We’ll need to see tomorrow. Maybe, with a bit of rest and recuperation, you’ll be stronger.” Ebb and I were part of the Shadow Legion. Controlling them and using them came as easily as thinking. I hoped that Alex would be able to control a few dozen without help, but it was unlikely that she would. The finished dishes she made arrived at the dining room, where a hundred Imps were eating with the goal of replicating. The large batches of sweetened porridge with fruit and nuts were palatable to them, but the additional dishes were welcomed. Everything we could buy and source from Earth was pretty much a reprieve from the constant consumption. It was better than just shoving grain down our mouths for decades, though. “But it’s time to stop thinking about that. Just rest.”
“Got it, bossman.” Alex proceeded to move towards the dining room’s buffet. We were ordering food across the world, picking it up, and placing it on the buffet table. Package after package of takeout, along with catering plates from restaurants that could supply it, were at our disposal and gave us all the options we could want. It helped that we were trading with cryptocurrency for the most part, which was easily cashed out for electronic funds. We had multiple slush funds so that if they were found linked to us, then we wouldn’t have to worry. “Ooh, is this from that place I liked over in Milan?”
“Yep, they don’t do takeout, but they do cater.” She was giddy as she opened the aluminum tray and smiled at the heaps of pasta stuffed with seafood. The Imps partook in what was left after she took the lion’s share, then she trawled around for roast beef and smothered fried pork chops. Then, she took a seat near a television and turned it to her shows. I followed and took a seat across from her with my own favorites. “Good?”
“Hell yeah. It’s the best.” She took the shellfish out of their shells and tossed it towards the nearest imp, which snapped it up. When you can’t get hurt by chewing shells, it’s more like a different sort of crunchy texture than an impediment to eating. Still, Alex preferred peeling it, and the nutritional value was negligible. “Are you still on your fried rice binge?”
“Yep.” Fried rice with great smokiness from the wok was something that I just recently tried and couldn’t get enough of. It was best when it was never covered and shipped out. It gave the rice a faint crispness that disappeared if it was in a covered container. Nutty, crispy, a bit sweet, and very savory, especially with plenty of cured meats balanced by some peas and green onion. It was delicious, and I could eat as much as I wanted with a whole slew of other dishes. It took a while to find a shop willing to leave the rice and dishes in a closet in their restaurant with no questions asked, but once money came into the picture and the dishes were returned, they didn’t complain. “You want to try some?”
“Ate so much Chinese takeaway that just looking at it makes my appetite go away. Sorry, but I ate it for too long.” Alex explained, and I nodded. She apparently worked at a Chinese takeout restaurant for a while and ate leftovers from there for a long time. It was good, but multiple years of eating the same thing from childhood to teenage years? That didn’t sound fun. “I’ll have some of Ebb’s stuff, though.”
“It is not stuff. It is sushi. If you want it, you will address it by name.” Ebb grumbled, but as soon as Alex called it sushi, it flew over and gave her a portion. I wondered why it was ordering more than usual. “I bought you a beginner course. Eat from right to left, from the leanest to the fattiest cuts.”
“Man, I never even knew some fish were fattier than others! This is a treat!”
With the two of them getting along, I let myself relax a little and started eating.
With a few more expansions, we should soon have the chance to make a good mid-season boss for the Sentinels to play with while we keep up our rate of production.
Comments
"The goal of the Sentinels was to prevent me from wreaking havoc. Not to kill it." <- I think this sentence shouldn't be using 'me' unless the super fighting robots are shadow monsters in disguise.
ElricFlairgold
2025-10-22 22:46:13 +0000 UTCThe only romance in this story it is food romance
Danerol
2025-10-22 06:21:43 +0000 UTC