In hindsight, there really was no reason why I decided to click on the shady email that popped up in my inbox, but here we were.
Someone had sent me, for whatever reason, a Choose Your Own Adventure browser game. It was one of the real CYOA's too, not just a wish-fulfillment tool that some authors used for their stories.
Though considering some of the perks available, I could see it being used for that too.
The only reason I'd even considered playing through this game, though, was the tagline:
–You wake up in a dangerous universe. Survive–
No context. No fluff. It was so vague it might as well have been a dare.
I'd spent the last hour tweaking my build, balancing drawbacks and perks to the best of my ability.
There were some insane choices on this CYOA, like being able to have Saiyan biology or straight-up giving the player galaxy-conquering power. That seemed like a fun time after a few playthroughs but…
Eh.
I didn't want to ruin my first experience with a game like this by just picking all the overpowered options, so I went with the standard Earthling race.
Besides, it was the only race without any abject flaws. Saiyans had a sanity system attached—a mechanic that I despised. Kryptonians would introduce kryptonite into the game and every enemy had a 30% chance to carry it with them. Namekians? The entire cooking system was thrown out the window since they only needed water to survive.
I wanted a first-time experience without missing any of the mechanics. Therefore, Earthling was the best choice.
Being the default race was a flaw in itself, but it was also the one race that had a perk without any downsides besides just playing in normal mode.
The Perk? [Human Adaptability]. It would let me adapt to any environment my character started in, whether it was the jungle or a tundra.
Practical, simple, and, yeah, a little boring. But I was a sucker for safety nets.
The only other perk I decided to pick up was [Vessel of the System]. From what I could tell, it was the only way to accurately measure my stats in the game without having to reach a checkpoint or something. That, and if I didn't have it, the game warned me that I wouldn't be able to check what skills I had.
Finally, to top it all off, I randomized my background. The true blind playthrough experience was mine.
–Confirm Build? Y/N–
"Just spent an hour on the character creation screen." I chuckled to myself as I clicked yes. "Classic."
As the loading bar on the screen filled up, my PC fans started up all of a sudden, whirring loudly in the background. I gave them a look, confused why they suddenly decided to start freaking out.
Abruptly, my screen went dark.
My eyes snapped forward, and my heart sank. Did I really spend an hour on a cheap phishing scam that bricked my PC? Whose bitch ass—
The floor beneath me vanished.
No warning, nothing. Just... gone.
"Huh—"
The world tipped sideways. My desk, my chair, my fortress of desk trash—they all blurred into streaks of light. I was falling. The sensation was both nauseating and weightless, like being flung into a black hole.
And then, with a stomach-lurching thud, I landed.
Flat on my back, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling.
For a long moment, I just laid there, trying to make sense of what had happened. Did I fall into the first floor of my apartment? Where the fuck did the floor go?
A voice snapped me out of my confusion.
"Hey! Dickhead! On the ground!"
I turned, still dizzy, only to find a group of… aliens, standing in rows, all facing forward. All of them were wearing ugly gray jumpsuits. Some looked curious, others were dead serious, while a few even looked bored.
I think. I'm not sure. How does one tell the expression of aliens, again?
"You deaf, clown?!"
I sat up quickly, snapping my head toward the sound of the voice, and found a tall, broad-shouldered man standing at the front of the group. He was wearing a uniform much nicer than ours, even if it looked as old as he did with his graying hair.
Ah, yes, his skin was also light blue. And his uniform resembled the Galactic Patrol Uniform...
'I'm in Dragon Ball.' And somehow, the realization didn't fill me with dread. 'Fuck.' Oh, there it is.
"Back in line! Now!" he barked.
I blinked, still trying to process everything. The dizziness hadn't fully worn off, and my legs felt like jelly. The last thing I expected today was to be yelled at by a blue galactic patrolman, but here I was.
I staggered to my feet and hurried to join the group, doing my best to ignore the fear bubbling in my gut.
The man's gaze swept over us like a laser, lingering on me just a little longer than the others.
"Listen up, maggots!" he barked, his voice cracking like a whip. "This is not your cozy home planet, and I am not your friend. If you want to be in the Galactic Patrol that means you will either become useful—or you'll get yourselves killed trying. I don't care which."
Someone audibly gulped.
He pointed a bony finger toward a giant display on the wall. It blinked to life, showing a galaxy map littered with blinking red dots.
"This is the state of the universe," He said. "Chaos. Pirates. Criminals. Invaders. And here's the Galactic Patrol, cleaning up the mess because no one else will."
He turned back to us, his expression hard. "You rookies are worthless to me as you are. Back in my day, you had to have at least a Power Level of 100 to sign up. But lucky for you, we've got a new program in place."
"F-Class!" The man suddenly announced. "A new rank that puts you at the very bottom of the Galactic Patrol. It ain't a real rank in my eyes, but a symbol that you all still need training to be worth a damn."
"But why should we train you?" He continued, pacing in front of us, "You passed all the written exams and interviews, but that won't help you when you're ambushed out in the galaxy! I don't care about your race, your background, or your pathetic excuses. If you can't survive the basics, you'll never make it in the field."
He clapped his hands together. A loud, mechanical grinding echoed through the room as panels in the walls slid open. My stomach dropped as I saw what came out.
Flying fuckin' robots.
Dozens of them hovered into the room—small, floating spheres with blinking red eyes and stubby cannons mounted on their sides. They were about as intimidating as oversized tennis balls, but something about the way they moved told me they were not here to play nice.
"So prove it!" He shouted. "Prove you're worthy to be in the Galactic Patrol!"
The drones' eyes glowed brighter. Then, with an electric whir, they opened fire.
"The fuck?!" I yelped.
I dove to the side as a bolt of energy zipped past my head, slamming into the ground where I'd been standing. The other recruits scattered, some shouting, others already throwing punches or dodging as best they could.
A holographic screen glitched into my vision, stunning me for only a moment.
o–o
Quest Alert!
[Beginner] – Galactic Patrol Trial
Objective: Survive for five minutes without being knocked unconscious.
Bonus Objective: ?
Reward: Title – [F-Class]
Bonus Reward: ?
Failure: User will be forcibly extracted to the nearest galactic hub, where further survival will depend solely on personal abilities.
o–o