Atop a galaxy containing countless stars, an otherworldly beautiful woman made of cosmic energies sat in a relaxed manner. In her hands was a journal called "How to Fireball."
On the first page of this journal were the words:
"Whoever you are, if you've found this journal, then you were destined for it."
"By this point, I would have long since ascended to higher planes..."
"But in my free time, I decided I should leave behind something for future generations, whether as a gift or evidence of the life I lived."
"This personal journal depicts everything that happened to me up to my Ascension. However, be warned that there are millions of pages in this spatially enhanced book. Better be prepared to lose years of your life reading it."
"As for where to start…"
"Ah, let's go back to where it all began. The prologue of this long, eventful life of mine."
"Prologue: Power, and a Truck"
— On Earth, in the year 2178 —
There existed a boy who, from birth, wished for only one thing.
To become the strongest.
Ever since he saw his first boxing match on an old TV in a rundown apartment in Abandoned District Byger, that had been his dream.
To conquer the world with nothing but his fists!
Unfortunately, this world was technologically advanced…
There were flying cars, spaceships, and even superhumans!
For this boy who wanted to rely only on his own strength, the notion of making use of technology to become stronger was an affront to everything he stood for. No matter what, he refused to succumb to the temptations of physical augmentations.
Not that the boy had the money to afford it anyway…
As this boy grew up, the taunts of those around him became louder.
"Why are you doing this??"
"You're wasting your time!"
"Just give up! You're never going to achieve anything by training your muscles!"
Even his own parents started to hate him.
"Why did I even give birth to you!?"
"Not only are you stupid, you're also useless!"
"Why can't you just disappear already!?"
So that's what the boy did.
He disappeared.
The Abandoned Districts of Country A were either riddled with diseases, stricken by poverty, or infested with Mutants, but the boy didn't care. With only the clothes on his back and the pythons he had as arms, he ventured deeper into the Abandoned Districts.
At first, things were tough, and he was constantly being injured. But he was resilient. And after a few months, he adapted to the dangerous environment.
A couple of years quickly flew by.
The boy was now an adult. A man.
However, even though his age had changed, his goals had not.
He would become the strongest through pure determination and hard work!
He would show this world that all that he had endured wasn't for naught!
Years passed by in a blink.
The man woke up outside a small hill of dead zombie mutants, only to realize that his beard had grown too long again.
He was 25 now.
However, from appearances alone, he looked as if he had been through several wars. His face was haggard and his muscles sore, with his vitality no longer what it once was.
But his spirit had yet to diminish.
In fact, it was higher than ever before!
To become the strongest through one's own strength! This was still his goal!
Years turned into dozens of years.
By the time the man made it to 40 years of age, he had already explored every Abandoned District in Country A.
There were no longer any Mutants that could rival him. He had become so strong that the foundations of buildings would cave in with just a single one of his punches.
He had achieved strength beyond mortal limits.
But it wasn't enough…
Up above, in the stratosphere and beyond, there were ships that could annihilate entire countries with a blast of searing red heat. Compared to that, the measly strength he possessed was nothing.
Thus the man kept on training.
Push-up after push-up, fight after fight.
Several dozen years later, when he was approaching 70 years of age, the man had already explored the majority of the world map. He fought all kinds of beings, even besting a few robotic inventions like Mechas.
But by this point, the wear and tear on his body—worsened by his old age—left the man sinking in a pit of despair. One that would eventually eat him from the inside out.
His goals of invincible power seemed so far away…
The constraints of mortality bound him down, unwilling to let go until he was dead.
However, while drowning in the darkest depths nearing his 100th birthday, a beacon of hope shone down on the man.
It was the 23rd Century, and as such, there were plenty of serums capable of prolonging life. One of such serums was offered to the decrepit old man who was once renowned as the Martial God.
It was like offering a fountain of water to a man who was about to die from dehydration!
However…
"I refuse."
With those two simple words, the serum that could've extended his lifespan by hundreds of years was taken away from the man.
The very next day, officials of the Galactic World Government arrived at his doorstep. They brought with them advanced weaponry and equipment meant to subdue behemoth-class mutants.
It was at this moment that the Martial God realized that, even while half a foot into the grave, there were people that feared him. That feared what he could do if he were to go on a frenzied rampage in rebellion to his destined demise.
It was also possible that they were planning to experiment on him while they still had the chance. That would explain the tranquilizers.
"When I was weak, everyone despised me for pursuing a 'pointless' path, but now that I'm strong, they want to use me for their own gain."
"How ironic…"
However, the Martial God refused to accept this fate.
And with one final eruption of the absolute limits of mortal physical strength, he destroyed his home and spent the next few weeks removing from his path anything that obstructed it.
He had no family in this world. No lovers. No friends.
He had always been alone in pursuit of the pinnacle of mortal strength.
He had… nothing to lose.
Approximately two months after his initial escape from government officials, the Martial God just finished annihilating another squadron of elite superhumans. But while holding one of them by their heads, he looked up and saw a harrowing flash of red light in the exosphere.
A Cross-Continental Hypercannon Satellite.
"So in the end, technology is what defeats me," said the Martial God, already accepting his fate. "How pathetic—"
SWOOOOOM!!
To defeat the anomaly whose physical power made no logical sense, the Galactic World Government fired off something on the same level as an atomic bomb.
This was the end of the Martial God's story.
At least it should've been…
'...Is that… a truck…?'
A weird thought passed through his mind in his last moments.
While being engulfed by the destructive red energy of the Hypercannon Satellite, he could've sworn he saw the bright high beams of a white Class 4 truck come crashing toward him.
But that didn't make any sense…
Surely he was just seeing things, right?
Right…?
— Next time on Fireball Spammer — Infinite Spiritual Energy, One Trick Pony, and a… Fireball…?? —