The Spandex Chronicles
Description
The city of Seoul is a global hotspot for criminal activity. Being a wealthy country, with a high population density, villain's had flocked to the place like moths to a gold-dipped flame. A once prosperous Seoul had become a slums of sorts, dirtied with corruption and violence. it's reputation only continued to sink, until the formation of M.A.N.S.A.E, The management home, and national superhero agency of education. Yeah, nobody ever bothered saying the full acronym. MANSAE was an organization which picked up young, promising superheros, housed them, trained them, and set them loose on the criminal scum of the city. The organization was a huge success, and became the worlds leading Superhero Management training system. No matter how many superhero's there were, though, there would always be Villains for them to face. Here in the city of Seoul, lived Seungcheol, the cities most well-renowned superhero. A man with a big heart, but bigger thighs, who threw away bad guys almost as easily as he stole hearts. To them, he was known as Sergeant Coups. His greatest enemy among the rest was a humanoid robot called 'The Vulcan Thief,.' He was a heartless, thieving bastard, who never learned the respect to call someone by their proper name. The city feared him as a robotic god of death and destruction, a heartless metal shell who cared about nothing other than money. The people who knew him, simply called him Jihoon.
Foreword
Crashing through a window with his hands planted proudly against his hips, was Sergeant-ing-Coups. Mr. goodie-goodie superhero, and The Vulcans most annoyingly consistent nemesis. “You called?” He grinned, all pearly whites and heroic charm.
“Who the invited Captain underpants to the party?” He waved the gun around, threatening. The crowd ducked in fear, nobody daring to confess.
“That’s Sergeant Coups to you, Vulcan. Now drop the box! Before I drop my foot on your face.”
A pair of smaller, metal arms, swooped out of his chest cavity, pulling the box inside. The cavity locked tight, and Vulcan let out a sinister, electronic chuckle, pressing the gun to Mr. Kim’s receding hairline. “Why don’t you make me?”
Warning: This story is going to contain violence, mentions of death, sentitive/potentially triggering content, and a lot of underwear jokes.
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