Return Of The Anarchists

Vincent had grown up in the Stratocracy where everybody worked like unfeeling machines. The cold hard order and control over even the tiniest of details had always made Vincent feel suffocated.

Different rules constrained him, however he still rose through the ranks. His rebellious nature was never accepted. A new rookie outdid him and he was tossed aside. Of course to add insult to injury that very rookie later ended up joining the hero"s crew.

When he was escaping and was blown off by a grenade, something inside of him snapped. Even as the shrapnel pierced his eyes and separated an arm, his eyes had widened in amazement.

The explosion was pure chaos. It wasn"t constrained by the rules, and all order was broken into pandemonium. Vincent had felt as if imaginary chains around him were broke. He had fallen in love with explosions ever since.

So when Lucas had asked him do it, he had pressed the big red b.u.t.ton with no hesitation at all. There was even antic.i.p.ation and mad fanaticism. This was after all his best creation yet. It would be the very incarnation of chaos unleashed onto the world.

However when the explosion took place vaporizing him and all the surrounding anarchists he didn"t feel excited. A single tear evaporated from his cheek as soon as it left his tearducts.

It wasn"t a tear of happiness. It was a tear of loss and intense grief.

For the briefest of moments he felt sad.

His friends, his efforts and life. Everything were gone. He felt reluctant to go away. Unknowingly he had forgotten to take in the magnificence of the chaos. He was busy thinking about all that he was losing.

He was frustrated at his behavior. This was a moment he had often dreamed of, the day he would die and take everything down with him with a huge bang. Something of epic proportions that the whole world would remember for centuries.

Chaos so powerful that it would even rip apart the fabric of s.p.a.ce-time.

However he only felt immense grief, he still wanted to live.

Call it fate or destiny but both his wishes came true.

A rift was indeed blown in the fabric of s.p.a.ce-time and his soul was sucked through it.

Vincent soul was flung into another world where it sunk into the dying body of a beastman.

He had transmigrated.

After merging with the body"s memories Vincent realized that it belonged to a new and rising mercenary called Vince. With elements of fire and metal, he was quite good at metalworking and combat. Unfortunately his crew had been wiped out in a fight with a high-level elemental beast.

Looking at the kaleidoscope of memories crashing into his head Vincent couldn"t help but feel extremely annoyed. The original Vince was the exact opposite of him. An idiot obsessed with rules and order.

An extremely stuck-up son of a b*tch.

Kind of like Martin.

However the kid also had a deep set trauma. His settlement had once been razed to the ground by a monster. The deaths and chaos left a long lasting impression in the owners mind.

So, when these memories started to fuse with that of Vincent"s he instinctively rejected them at first.

However, this could prove to be dangerous and even lead to schizophrenia and worsen his insanity.

Thus he ultimately accepted the memories.

Looking back Vincent couldn"t help but agree, chaos was only fun before it happened to oneself. Pure order on the other hand did more harm than good. A balance needed to be achieved, kind of like that between gravity and dark energy to ensure the survival of life.

Nonetheless, he was extremely biased towards biased

So, a new Vincent that outwardly acted like a stiff and order-loving snake but inwardly raving for chaos and destruction was born.

Whether his insanity had gotten worse or gotten greatly reduced was ultimately a matter of perspective.

Struggling to adapt to his new memories, Vincent took the most logical step.

He applied to a mercenary squad that worked for the demons. The Flaming Knights, one of the big five mostly consisting of fire users.

It was logical as he still needed to learn more about the world and find a way to keep the legacy of the anarchists alive. Since he had survived it meant that even the universe wanted him to keep spreading anarchy. He would create a new branch of Anarchists in this world. One that Lucas would be proud of if he were still alive.

Suppressing his rising emotions, Vincent decided to check his skillset and felt greatly relieved. It was the perfect combo for making grenades. The explosive power of power and the penetration of metal shrapnel would cause ma.s.sive destruction.

Outwardly smiling serenely Vincent was cackling madly in glee inwardly. Instead of forming multiple personalities his internal and external behavior had instead become extremely contrasting.

Vincent flickered his forked tongue through his fangs and slithered forward.

He then paused. Something seemed to be wrong.

Extremely.

He looked back at himself and couldn"t help but twitch his eyebrows. He was a beastman of the snake clan. A friggin snake dammit. Even though the snake scales had basic fire resistance, if he had to be a beastman couldn"t it be something cute like a wolf or cat.

Luckily he still had two legs, two arms and an extremely handsome face. Yes so what if he was green-skinned had fangs and a weird forked tongue. So what if had pointy ears and a tail jutting out of his a.s.s. He was still s.e.xy as h.e.l.l. Now he just looked like a venomous beauty. Its just that his tail, was a bit too reptilian. Look on the bright side! At least he had legs and didn"t have to slither around on the ground. Wait even when he walked his tail would make a weird sound just like that of a slithering snake.

d.a.m.n it sucked!

There was no d.a.m.ned internet or video games here. Even if there were cute beastgirls his snake-like appearance wouldn"t give him any brownie points. However he had heard that snake ladies are extremely dangerous but charming too.

Yeah, in case you haven"t noticed Vincent was also a major playboy in the previous world.

Shaking his head in self-pity Vincent set off for the camp.