Here we go, the first augment. Dr. Weel was cackling about something when I got back from the job, some kind of "revolutionary power source". All I really understood was that, I'd be put under, and when I awoke - long as the good doctor was as good as he said he was - I'd have a nuclear heart, steel bones, and enough strength to outmatch any other man. Now, I've always been fit, even when my skills started to slip in retirement, I kept up my exercise routine, and anyone with eyes can see the results I got, but now, with this reactor in my chest, fueling all kinds of wires and pistons and pulleys and such? I feel like a God, like I could crack concrete and bend steel with my bare hands. It's intoxicating. Apparently, the good doctor hasn't included any "combat capable" upgrades quite yet, said I'd have to do some more work before I qualified for his "genius", but even just the general boost I've gotten is a gods damn miracle. I could fold any man in half in the ring, and keep on chugging through the kinda hits that would floored me even in my prime, I'm an honest to gods juggernaut, even if I doubt I'll be able to headbutt bullets outta the air or anything like that anytime soon.

I can already hear the ring, calling for me, the sweet sound of the bell, the cheers of the fans, my old theme song, oh, wait for me baby, daddy's comin'! Just need to get a few more upgrades. How hard could it be?

Well journal, remember that Dr. Allister girl from a while back? One with the funky leg? Yeah, went to see her lately, see what was up with her offer of 'replacement parts', and, well, I ain't one to shy away from artificial limbs, now am I? Ha, yeah, got this sweet new cybernetic finger replacing ol' lefty, finally, and some plating over my stomach to replace the scar tissue, damn smooth lookin' too. Now, sure, this derails my plans of gettin' back in the ring with the big boys, but, well, those boys ain't so big anymore, y'know what I mean? With all these Ghouls and Lightning Elk and what have your runnin' about, and that supposed Strongest Man in the World, Mark Collins, wrestling down a damn Kraken, I gotta say, it's lookin' like there's a whole new arena to be fightin' in, and, well, I did promise that Dr. Allister girl I'd advertise her products, what better way than grabbing a camera crew, hunting down one of the big bastards, and hammering them into the fucking ground!

Now, I've heard about all sorts of these critters and horrors and whatever else running around on the news, the big thing here is picking one to fight! Oh boy, I can already feel my hearts pumping, let's see... electric deer? I'm pretty metallic, probably best to hold off until I can check how insulated I am... What're those, giant rats? Eh, it's a start. Nothing incredible, but there could be enough of 'em to make up the difference, and I sure as shit want to show that big cat bastard how much the Pain Train has on him! I'm even a better mouser than that fucker!

Well, here it is, the day comes at last. I'm gonna be hunting down a magical creature, and breaking it's damn spine. I've looked through the papers, the news, everywhere, and I've picked my target, these crazy fire-breathing rats they got down in Chicago. Once I'm done with them things, the whole country's gonna know Dan Steel is back, and he's better than ever.

For my new gear, Doc Weel fitted me with a more full body upgrade, reinforcements all around, protection against bleeding out, hell, even loaded a couple shotguns into my fists without makin' 'em anymore likely to break, somehow. Things slide right outta my knuckles, bit weaker than a normal shotgun, but I reckon that's more to do with the size than any flaw in the design, and having a ranged option is gonna be a hell of an advantage in any future jobs, 'specially as I won't have to carry 'em with me, or bother with a holster or none of that nonsense, no sirree, just bring up ol' lefty and righty for a brawl, and then, right as they think they've got me, POW POW POW! Dan Steel unleashes hell, like on o' them whatchamacallits the kids are into these days, a Ha-doe-ken, I think it's called. Heh, gonna have to shout that one at some damn kids when I use it on 'em at some point, God knows some upjumped teens are going to think they can get one over on this old man.