An Adam Smasher into Danmachi Isekai Story
It had been one week since a meatfucker got lucky, spouting off bullshit about the Cheerleader while they did their best to hide behind bodies and ripped themselves apart with speedware. One week since that pastel-piece of shit shotgun had been pressed into his malfunctioning optics and a trigger pulled. One week since that frame had been taken out of commission, a useless measure on the meatfucker's end, because his biopod was in his torso. The head had optics and some subprocessors, nothing vital.
It had been one week since he woke up here. In what was clearly some jackass' shitty VR anime sim. Old fashioned stone and metal. Barely anything worth a damn. Shitty food. Shitty plumbing. Shitty meat people. Shitty everything.
His military-grade mechanical frame gone.
Replaced with fucking meat.
Plugged into some sim of middle-ages fantasy horseshit for shits and giggles. Adam had long decided that he was going to have fun murdering whoever put him here, cut some meat really nice and slow. Until then, he had to deal with the sim and all its annoying meat problems that he had long since gotten rid of by upgrading.
Hunger, check. Thirst, check. Sleep, check. Non-metal skin, check. Weakass muscles, check. Fragile bones, check. A single visual spectrum of vision, check. A limited set of auditory sensors, check. No additional sensors, check. No utility chrome at all? Fucking Check.
He wasn't even a grown meatbag. Those fuckers had clearly calibrated this for the full fucking weeaboo experience, because he looked like he did back in his teens.
It was like he was on the streets again, with his bloodboys in Yankee Stadium. Save of course that he was alone, he had nothing on his back, and no fucking guns. Because of course this fantasy-ass middle ages bullshit setting wouldn't have any fucking guns. Make his job so much fucking harder.
There were some familiar things though, running around in backalleys looking for scraps, keeping an eye out for suspicious fuckers.
And of course, murdering for his daily bread.
The meatfucker he was currently strangling to death was putting up a good fight. Fella had fancy clothing, one of those long black cloaks, and had decided to swagger into the part of the city Adam had long since identified as 'the worst part of town', whatever it's fucking name was.
He had two fat sacks of clinking coins on his belt, which was strange because the money here was paper first and then coin, which meant the dumbass just wanted to show off and really deserved to get murdered and robbed. So really Adam was doing him a favor, teaching him a lesson like this.
The fancy bastard kicked and tried to scream a bunch, and was way stronger than his skinny-ass frame would indicate, but Adam made sure to eat good and exercise a lot growing up, because he was a good six and a half feet and about two hundred or so pounds at this point. He'd get bigger over the next few years, but not by much.
The marines did him good, turning a big ol' boy into a big ol' man. Arasaka was better, turning that man into a killing machine. He was stuck just being a big and mean teenager in this sim, which while infuriating, was something he could work with.
Most meatbags weren't even as strong as he was back in those days, it was honestly fucking pathetic.
The kicks and jerks began to die down as his victim slowly lost bloodflow to the brain, taking way longer than it should have, probably shit programming. The meatbag began to shut down as its brain lost the vital fluids coming from a beating heart. Or something like that, he never studied biology.
Honestly it was just a stupid weakness anyways, fucker should've had armor on if he had all this coin.
Finally stilled, Adam twisted the head by the chin and skull until it snapped. Then he twisted it the other way until he heard another good snap and the spine beneath meat was severed completely. Then, dragging the body back behind yet another layer of rock and rubble, he began to pilfer it.
First, the bags of coins, tossed into his satchel. Then the fancy looking sword on the belt, straight to his own belt. Then the tunic, pulled off skinny and pulled over his head. It was too tight for him, but it was better than no shirt, which is what he had before. Then the fuckers cloak, just for good measure.
Finally, he dragged the corpse over to the nearest sewer hole, and shoved it in the stagnant water below. Whatever lived down there could handle it, he didn't care. Middle-ages type settings usually hand some sort of guards, but those fuckers never came down around the really awful places like here, so he'd get away scot-free unless someone recognized the cloak.
Even then, he'd just say he took it from other fuckers in the area. It's not like they had a damn shred of proof, unless their programming was fucked.
The more important thing now was to…
His stomach growled, loudly.
He almost snarled at that, fucking meat, he fed you yesterday. His stomach growled again, and Adam almost wished he hadn't dumped the corpse so he could mutilate it. Clenching his fist and grinding his teeth, he forced himself to calm by inhaling and exhaling slowly.
First things first, he was going to eat. Not any dumpster shit though, he was sick of that. He had money, he was going to wander down the street until he found something cheap, filling, and hopefully fried.
Walking out of the alley, new sword on waist and barefooted, Adam made his way down the street with a sharp nose out for something that smelled decent.
—
Eventually, his nose led him to a slightly nicer part of town. Some sort of market street full of vendors peddling things he didn't recognize, as well as things he did recognize. Loaves of bread, fruits, vegetables, mostly raw ingredients and the occasional jar of spices. He didn't have any way to cook any of this shit though, so he kept moving along until his nose picked up the scent of something familiar.
Fried potatoes filled his nostrils, and he had a target.
Following that scent past other vendors and more meatbags, he eventually spotted his target. Behind a stall that advertised itself in that same bizarre blocky lettering native to shitty fantasy sims was a tiny woman with fat tits and an apron. More importantly than any of her actual features though, was the fact that she was selling what looked like actual honest to god fried potato hashbrowns.
Weird fucking choice for a middle ages sim, but Adam was hardly complaining. You couldn't go wrong with a fried potato.
He stomped his way over, moving to stand behind the blond meatbag buying one for herself and waiting. He glared at nothing, bored out of his mind, as the two exchanged cash and food.
After awhile, the blond girl finally got out of his fucking way, and Adam stepped forwards. The tiny woman gave a stupid-looking customer service grin as she spoke. "Hallo! Would you like a Jagamarukun? Only 40 valis!"
He didn't know what the fuck a valis was. He putted out both bags he had taken from the fancy fucker and dropped it on the counter. "All that I can get with that." He rumbled out. His stomach followed suit, grumbling in turn. She blinked at that, customer service smile dropping slightly as she nodded and poured the money out on the counter. Presumably to count it.
Golden coins fell out of the bag and she flinched back in shock. Gulping at the bags she looked up at him again then back down. Licking her lips, she eventually replied.
"I… I don't have enough Jagamarukun for all this." She admitted, staring at the abundance of coins.
Adam sighed audibly and rolled his eyes. "Then I'll buy your whole stock, just take out what it costs."
Perking up, likely in excitement, the little woman nodded and grinned up at him. "Can do! Please watch me count to make sure I don't steal from you!"
"Sounds annoying, no." Adam grunted out, moving over to the bench next to the stall and waiting for her to start giving him the setting-inappropriate fast food to fill his stomach with. The little fuckmeat squeaked in panic as she started putting the money back into the back, counting out some coin with rapid mutterings, and handing him the thing he just bought.
He chomped down immediately.
It was softer than a proper hashbrown, bizarrely easy to chew through on the inside, but that didn't matter. It was fried and breaded and warm. It was also the first cooked thing he had eaten in about a week now, so it was more than enough for him. Thinking about it, it might be the first cooked thing he had eaten in a few decades. His borgframes just use nutrient bags most of these days.
Junk food was still junk food. He devoured them as they were handed over, munching with fearsome tenacity as he blankly stared at the building across the street. If the fuckmeat tried to steal from him, he'd just kill her, simple as.
"My biggest customer yet! Take that Loki! You don't have anyone buying your Jagamarukun!" The tiny woman cackled to herself as she rubbed two of his coins together, flipping a sign over on the front of the stand, likely an indication that she was closed for the day. Pulling up more prepared hashbrowns from below and behind the stall, she began to set them out for him, one tray of the things after another.
There were probably a few hundred here, which didn't matter too much because fried potatoes didn't go bad for a good week. That was something he learned back in his street-stomping days. "Can't wait to tell Hephaestus and Bell about this! I just sold out!" The fuckmeat continued to ramble, and much to his displeasure she turned to him and tried out small talk.
"S-so! How'd you hear about the great goddess Hestia's Jagamarukun stand?" She asked with a boastful air.
"No idea who that is." Adam grunted out in reply, chomping through another hashbrown. "That you? You call yourself a goddess?" Real high opinion of herself there, it was pretty annoying.
She deflated in an instant next to him, sadly handing another hashbrown. "O-oh… I-I suppose my familia is pretty small, true. B-but Bell is the best you know?! Say what you want about me, but I won't tolerate any bad talk about my first familia member!"
Adam chomped through the hashbrown, pondering that for a moment.
"The fuck is a familia?" He grunted out in reply, glancing over and raising a brow at the tiny woman in streetwear. Isn't that what Italian gangers call their gangs?
No wait, that was the Mafia. Probably. He watched Godfather once with the fucking cat back in the day.
The woman, for her part, looked baffled. "A familia? D-do you not know what a familia is?"
"I asked, didn't I? No I don't know what the fuck that is." Dumbass. Adam showed much restraint by not insulting her like he should be. Bad idea to insult the ones giving free information to you. Instead, he resisted the urge to call her meat and leave, he wasn't done eating yet.
"I- oh jeez…" The woman reached up to rub her forehead. He reached down and grabbed another hashbrown, munching on it while looking at the tiny girl with the fat tits and waiting for her to stop being melodramatic.
"Okay! So you know what the Gods are, right? And the Dungeon?" She asked.
Adam grunted in affirmation, things that don't exist and a place you find skeletons in. She flinched at that for some reason, before proceeding with her explanation. "So Gods aren't allowed to use our Arcanium while we're in the Lower World, so to help mortals fight monsters, we grant our blessings to bolster their strength. Often, each god blesses and maintains the blessing on a group of mortals, this group is known as a Familia. Are you following?"
Adam stared blankly for a moment. So fantasy middle ages land had monsters and magic powers, got it. That was about to be expected of a shitty sim like this. He nodded and chomped down on another potato.
"So in exchange for the blessing, the members of the familia work on behalf of their God. Often this is delving into the Dungeon and slaying monsters, b-but it can be other things too!" Tiny Big-Boobs babbled, waving her hands back and forth briefly.
"Like! My friend Miach has a potion-making Familia, and Hephaetus has a smithing-focused Familia! It can be anything that the God wants!"
Adam grunted. "Right, so corpos with superpowers, got it. You mentioned killing monsters, that pay well?"
"Corpos..? Y-yes, in fact its probably one of the most profitable things you can do… Even if it is dangerous…" She trailed off with a worried look.
"You mentioned a Familia, you're a god right?" Adam rumbled.
"Yep! Hestia! Goddess of the Hearth and Home, pleased to meet you!" She chirped, before getting sheepish. "A-ah, my familia is only one member strong right now though…"
A cunning look grew in her eyes, she thinks she's being smooth. "Say… Would you like to join my Familia?"
Adam chomped down on another potato, swallowing before replying. "Sure. Name's Adam Smasher. Where do I sign and…"
"YES!" She exclaimed, bouncing in place and pumping her fists. "Two in two days! I'm on a roll!"
Finishing his hashbrown off, he continued. "...When do I kill things?"
For some reason, that statement caused a slightly worried look to appear on the fuckmeat's face.
—
"This where you live huh?" Adam grunted out, arms full of hashbrowns and staring at the building before him. A church of some kind, with broken out windows, a heavily damaged doorway, moss crawling up the stonework, and hedges overgrown nearby.
"S-sorry! I know It's a little bit of a fixer-upper right now. We're working on it!" Tinytits apologized profusely as she stood next to him.
"...I've lived in worse." Adam shrugged and moved forwards, pushing open the door with his shoulder and seeing that the interior was slightly more homely, but still not great. A bit more roomy, with much of the more broken furniture pushed to the side and covered in a sheet for the moment. There was a small smoldering hearth at one end, and stairs leading up to a second floor.
Yeah, far worse. This place didn't have any roaches as far as he could tell. The Rotten Apple was worse in about every way. All kinds of old memories were coming back to him, living on the streets again. It was pretty nostalgic in its own way.
And now, one week in, he was moving up in the world. Killing monsters shouldn't be anything harder than anything he's already killed before, and that list was long indeed.
"I'm sleeping in front of the fireplace." He declared, claiming his spot as soon as he could. That would be the warmest place in the building, and this shit-ass meat frame of his needed its creature comforts.
"A-are you sure? We can try-"
"Fireplace. Mine." He declared again, turning a firm look to Tinytits. She put her hands on her hips and huffed, before nodding.
He was victorious again.
"Alright, now sit down and take your shirt off." She commanded, pointing a finger down authoritatively.
He stared at her for a moment, raising a brow. She stared at him back, before her brows furrowed. "What?"
"This a proposition fuckmeat?" Adam grunted out with a raised brow. "You need to work on your game."
Her face went scarlet, leaning back and aggressively waving her hands in front of her as if to ward him off.
"N-NO! NO IT ISN'T! IT'S NOT!" She continued sputtering for some time. Adam took the opportunity to set his trays of hashbrowns down, remove his upper garments, and start munching on yet another fried potato.
He was mostly done with one by the time she calmed down enough to actually look in his direction again. "I-I need to see your back to apply my blessing. I-It's not a p-proposition, okay! My heart isn't ready for things like that!"
"Clearly." Adam grunted, chomping through the potato. "I mentioned sex and you panicked like rats seeing headlights." He probably shouldn't insult his promised employer, so he restrained the rest of his thoughts on the matter.
"Tch. You're looking down on me." She grumbled, face still red.
"Yep." He replied. It was pretty annoying, to be frank. It was just fucking, girl, not that big of a deal.
"My second child is a mean one…" She grumbled and glared, walking over to kneel behind his back. "Now stop moving and let me focus." Adam was confident the girl just wanted him to stop making fun of her.
…
"So how's this Falna thing work?" Adam asked, bored out of his mind and chewing on the rest of this hashbrown. Idly wondering how this particular sim was handling their superpowers. Usually they just used RPG stats, because they were lazy fucks and that was easy.
"Hm? Oh it's a bit hard to explain." Tinytits replied as her hands went across his back in some sort of pattern. "It's… think of it as a… like a vine-frame. It's a framework that helps you to grow taller than you'd be able to do alone."
The fuck was a vine-frame? He understood the second part at least. "So it helps me get stronger huh? Like stats and abilities or something?" He guessed, figuring where this was going.
"Y-yes! You've heard of a Falna then?"
How fucking typical. "Something like it, at least." He wanted to roll his eyes, chewing on a cold potato. He supposed he wasn't expecting anything, so working with this was easy enough. "I have to gain XP by killing monsters to Level Up, right?" He knew how games worked. He watched the fucking Cat do that one some monster-taming game way back in the day.
"It's pronounced Excelia." She absentmindedly corrected.
Adam resisted the urge to give a long and drawn-out sigh. Fucking nerds and their shitty BDs. Couldn't they have at least put him in something original? Or fun? This 'realistic' fantasy shit was boring him.
She hummed in consideration. He wasn't looking at her face, so he didn't know why and frankly he didn't care all that much. "Done yet?"
"Yes, let me copy it so you can read what it says." Read? Was there a thing on his back now?
"I can't read your shitty language." He corrected, causing her to pause. "Just read it out for me."
After a moment, she began. "Level 1. Strength, Endurance, Dexterity, Agility, and Magic are all at 0."
What the fuck were those stats? Why were Dexterity and Agility different stats? That's retarded.
"Why are they at 0?" He grumbled out, interrupting her. He wasn't a fucking 0 in jack shit.
"The Falna only records what comes after it is applied, it doesn't measure what comes before." She explained. He grunted in reply, understanding and waiting for her to continue. "You have a Skill already, which I was told was rare but apparently not. They might've just been messing with me." Tinytits grumbled out.
"What is it?" He grumbled in reply.
"...Paradisus Sub Sole Rubro. All it says is 'Unusual interaction with Charm effects'. I don't know what it does."
He hummed through a mouthful of potato. She continued. "I'm going to hide your Falna now, it's important to keep it a secret, otherwise other gods might try something. Okay?"
He hummed in affirmation. Corporate secrets, got it.
She hummed in turn, before finally pulling back and declaring. "All done! You can put your shirt back on. Now we just have to wait for Bell to come back and get you registered with the Guild. Then you can start exploring the Dungeon… if you want that is."
Making money from murder is what he's good at Tinytits, stop the bellyaching. "When is he coming back?"
"He got back in the evening yesterday, so he should be back soon enough."
Adam looked around the church. Grunting, he got up and left his shirt off. "You have water here? I need a wash. It ain't great."
"I noticed your stink, yeah." Tinytits grumbled at him. He grumbled back. "We have a well out back." She replied, and he began to move in that direction.
"Wait, Adam." Tinytits spoke. Grunting, he turned to face her.
A brilliant smile greeted him. Warm, and looking genuinely happy at him. How foreign, how quaint. "Welcome to the Familia!"
He stared for a moment longer, before puffing through his nose. "Yeah, yeah." Corporate feel-good stuff, he was familiar with it. Credit where it's due, this BD had its rendering down pat.
Now if only he was killing things. He's too old to bother with all this touchy-nonsense.
Oh, there's the well.
…How does one use a well?