Harem Hero

Prologue

You have one friend.

A lot of people would consider that a few too many, but when it's a girl as troublesome as her – one is enough. Her name is Mitsuru, and you've been friends since your early childhood.

She's is a short girl with a bowl cut and big, round glasses. She is rarely seen without her white lab coat, which she often brought to your school without permission. Years of lectures from various teachers did not cause her to waver in her cause. She's no poser, the girl is a certified genius. When you were in fifth grade she was doing advanced calculus and reading university papers about astrophysics. By comparison you're as dumb as a brick.

You formed an unconventional friendship – although more often it feels like you're just being the straight man to whatever bizarre scheme or plan she's concocted while you weren't looking. She has no common sense. You feel a small amount of responsibility to make sure such a gifted mind doesn't die after failing to look both ways before crossing the street. You stuck by her side through both of your respective educations, and now live on a subsidized income earned from her various patents and discoveries as her only employee.

It started out like any other day, you didn't have anything to do and she needed a willing test subject slash lab assistant to help out at her lab. So after receiving an urgent text message from her you headed over. The lab was located in a large courtyard where several other businesses made their home, mostly garages and other storage facilities that could use the space. The building used to be a garage itself, used for fixing cars and the like. Mitsuru had bought the place at a bargain price and turned it into a makeshift laboratory.

She could have easily found a better location, but Mitsuru refused to be chained down by 'the man' or the 'intellectual establishment,' her desire to work unconstrained by ethics or direction culminated in her creating her own laboratory and working from it. You duck under the still open garage door and walk into the main floor, where the previous equipment for lifting and fixing cars still remained.

Mitsuru is in her usual place, stood at the back of the lab near her workbench. The back wall has been covered from top to bottom in whiteboards found online and covered with hundreds of incomprehensible squiggles and diagrams. Only she knows the real meaning of them. You note with some humour that the very top of the boards remain untouched, as she's not gifted in the stature department as is her brain. She hasn't grown an inch in ten years.

She turns to face you and smiles, "Good morning Assistant one, I have some wonderful news!"

Your heart sinks at the words 'wonderful news,' "What is it? Did the feds finally catch on to you?"

"Pah, those two-bit savages couldn't tie their own shoes properly, never mind discover my location... That's not what I mean, I've finally completed my latest and greatest invention yet!" With no sense of theatricality, she dashes off to one side and wheels over a small cart once used to carry various tools used by the garage. On top of it is a strange gun like device, white in colour, and a single playing card placed next to it.

"I call it the Sledgehammer, patent pending."

"Why is it called the Sledgehammer? And isn't this kind of illegal?"

"It's not illegal, assistant. It doesn't fire ammunition! It's totally harmless!"

"If you say so."

"As for why it's called the Sledgehammer – this device is capable of a damn sight more than merely firing a projectile at high speed. It uses highly energized anti-matter to punch a hole in the fabric of our reality, it's really rather simple."

"...Mitsuru, that sounds even more illegal than it just being a gun! Not to mention a million times more dangerous!"

Mitsuru waves away your concerns, "When have my inventions ever caused you harm?"