In the wards of Zaun’s infamous asylum, a single monstrous figure roams the halls. His methods are bold, his bonesaw is sharp, and his patients are terrified. For this man is no doctor at all, except in the fancy of his own mind.
Though his true name has been lost to both time and memory, Dr. Mundo was once an enforcer for one of Zaun's most powerful chem-barons. Known for his boisterous affability, he was remarkably good-natured for a man who made his living off physical intimidation. He was always quick with a familiar nickname and a friendly clap on the back, and often blissfully unaware of the toes he was stepping on. It wasn’t long before he had stepped firmly on the toes of his boss.
Determined to make an example of his underling, the chem-baron had him committed to Osweld Asylum—a place well known for its inhumane treatment and questionable cures. The baron watched with satisfaction as his enforcer was placed in restraints and dragged away to the padded confines of the asylum’s most secure cell.
As months went by, the enforcer suffered unspeakable horrors at the hands of his supposed caregivers. Experimental treatments were rendered without concern for the patient's well-being. Nerves were prodded, lobes were severed, and unproved medicines were administered in large quantities. The enforcer began to change, his large frame gaining more muscle by the day. His brain, however, suffered a far worse fate. As he lost all memory of his past life, the enforcer struggled to make sense of the cruel world around him. He looked down at his old restraining jacket—it almost resembled the white coats of the medical professionals that surrounded him.
Misreading the words on his own uniform, he began to assume a new name and new profession for himself.
I must be a doctor, too. Why else would I be in this wretched asylum? he reasoned. And all these other people... must be my patients.
At last, the day came when the chem-baron arrived to discharge his enforcer from the asylum. To his surprise, there was no one to greet him in the lobby. The halls were empty and dead silent, save for the faint, incoherent babbling of a deranged patient in a room at the end of the hallway.
The baron entered the room to a horrifying sight: Scattered across the floor were countless bodies—staff and patients alike, dismembered beyond recognition. Standing above them, a hulking, purple monstrosity blathered unintelligibly as a large blue tongue lolled out the side of its gaping mouth. Muscles bulged grotesquely beneath its undersized garments, and its fist tightened around the handle of a surgical saw. The baron turned pale as his gaze found the face of the monster—and recognized it as his old enforcer.
The enforcer, who recalled nothing of his old boss, saw only another patient in desperate need of treatment. The purple thing lumbered toward the chem-baron, wagging his bonesaw in anticipation. The baron drew his chem-tech pistol and fired. The shot tore through the looming mass in front of him, staggering the monster...
But only for a brief moment.
The hole in the creature's flesh quickly closed as new slabs of muscle rapidly regrew over the wound. The monster paused, eyed the baron quizzically, and uttered, “You sick. Need help!”
Mimicking what he had seen performed countless times by the asylum's former practitioners, the enforcer threw the man on a nearby gurney, strapped his arms into the restraints, and prepared his instruments for surgery. The chem-baron turned pale as he realized the grim fate that awaited him.
The ensuing surgery—like so many before and after it—was not successful. The burgeoning doctor added the remains of his latest patient to the pile on the floor. Though he was saddened he could not save them, he knew he had done all he could. Besides, he would have other chances. Zaun was full of sick people just waiting to be cured. With a smile returning to his face, he left the hospital and set out into the streets to find more patients.
|The Madman of Zaun|
|May 25th, 2021||Story re-written by John O'Bryan to accompany his champion update.|
|May 2016||Story added to reintroduce Dr. Mundo into the new canon by Anthony Burch.
Utterly insane, unrepentantly homicidal, and horrifyingly purple, Zaun's citizens indoors on particularly dark nights. This monosyllabic monstrosity seems to want nothing more than pain - both the giving of it, and the receiving of it. Wielding his massive as if it were weightless, Mundo is infamous for capturing and torturing dozens of Zaun's citizens for his nefarious 'operations', which seem to have no overall point or goal. He is brutal. He is unpredictable. He goes where he pleases. He is also not, technically, a doctor.is what keeps many of
Stories differ as to the first sighting of Zaun's unpredictable purple madman. Some say they first saw him as a baby, crawling through the Piltover marketplace and terrifying the upper-class aristocrats with his foul smell. Others say he was born in Zaun and spent the first years of his life sloshing through the sewers and choking the life out of sump rats. Only one thing is for sure: when he was roughly three years old, he arrived on the doorstep of the Zaun Asylum for the Irreparably Troubled.
The other inmates of the asylum kept Mundo at a distance, but the asylum staff found the boy a source of constant fascination. They looked at him not as a child to be raised, but as a patient - a thing to be studied. Why was he purple? Who could have survived giving birth to someone of his size?
Within a year of his arrival, the doctors realized his skin was never going to change from its shockingly bright shade. When Mundo turned four, they discovered the extent of his unprecedented strength when he accidentally crushed an orderly's windpipe for not bringing him his favorite type of candy (toenails). When Mundo turned six, they discovered he had a relationship to pain that was... unusual. To say the least.
Specifically, Mundo didn't seem to mind pain. More than that, he actively sought it out. If left unsupervised, he'd stick sharp instruments into his shoulders. If he was placed anywhere near other patients, it'd only be a matter of minutes until one or both of them could be heard screaming in agony.
Soon the asylum staff tired of merely observing Mundo. It was time, they decided, to start experimenting. Whether they began their tests out of medical curiosity, a desire for scientific breakthrough, or sheer boredom is unknown. Whatever their reasons, the doctors unquestionably put a great deal of effort into understanding the purple enigma before them.
Over the next several years, they tested his tolerance for pain. They'd stick needles into his fingernails, and he'd giggle. They'd put hot irons to his feet, and he'd fall asleep. Soon, scientific curiosity gave way to outright frustration: they couldn't get Mundo to react negatively to pain at all, and they couldn't understand why. Not only that, but whatever damage they could do to him invariably healed itself within a few hours.
Throughout his teenage years, Mundo's life consisted of complete isolation and routine torture.
He'd never been happier.
He came to see the doctors as aspirational figures. If pain was Mundo's passion, it was seemingly these doctors' life work: their myriad attempts to push beyond his pain threshold grew more unconventional as the years went on, including dipping his feet in acid and throwing flesh-eating mites on his face.
The asylum doctors were initially amused when the purple teen began to refer to himself not as 'Mundo', but as 'Doctor Mundo'.
He'd steal a syringe from an orderly and fill it with a mixture of cavernberry juice from breakfast and god-knows-what from his chamber pot. "Mundo make medicine!" he'd happily exclaim before jabbing the concoction into his own forehead.
In time, however, Mundo grew tired of experimenting on himself.
Later, many would speculate what Mundo's motivations were. Some assumed he was taking revenge for the years of torture he endured at the hands of the asylum staff. Others thought he was merely a psychopathic monster with no sense of morality.
The truth was much simpler: Mundo had decided it was time to put his research into practice.
One night, Mundo snuck into the kitchen. There, he found a massive meat cleaver. 'Medical' blade in hand, Mundo proceeded to go from room to room, 'operating' on every 'patient' he found with no logic to his method of 'treatment' other than what would amuse him the most at any given moment.
By daybreak, every single person in the asylum was 'cured', save for Mundo.
He donned a physician's coat from one of his victims, his massive muscles ripping it as he pulled it over his gargantuan frame. Mundo had realized his dream. He was a doctor! As a new member of a long and illustrious line, he had to share his medicinal skills with the rest of the world. His work had just begun.
He barged through the locked doors of the asylum and past the steps where he'd been left so many years ago. Mundo walked into the streets of Zaun, a smile on his face and a spring in his step.
The doctor was in.
|2014||Story edited to remove mentions of the Institute of War.
It is said that the man now known as Zaun neighborhood where Mundo grew up had gone missing. By his teenage years, his parents were nowhere to be found. By the time he had legally acquired his license to practice medicine, he had been acquitted of thirty-eight separate charges of murder by the Zaun authorities; the lack of evidence made prosecution impossible.was born without any sort of conscience. Instead, he had an unquenchable desire to inflict pain through experimentation. By the time he was five, most of the pets in the
Dr. Mundo has become equal parts serial killer and mad scientist, though no one is entirely sure how his butchery qualifies as science. However, he has made tremendous strides in mapping the pain response in the human brain and body, going so far as being able to suppress it, even in the most excruciating of circumstances. He has also tapped into the primal parts of the brain through Noxus noticed. The empire was impressed by his ambition, and recruited his talents to initiate a relationship between the two nations., learning how to enhance aggression and adrenaline, as well as dulling conscience and the survival instinct. In short, Dr. Mundo has spent his life creating the perfect science-enhanced killer, an accomplishment that
He continues his experiments to this day, even using himself as an experimental subject, as evidenced by his disfigured appearance and his... unique manner of speaking. There are rumors that the High Command in Noxus has given him free reign to pursue his life's work in his spare time.
It is said that the man now known aswas born in the city of Zaun without any sort of conscience. Instead, he had an unquenchable desire to inflict pain through experimentation. By the time he was five, most of the pets in the Zaun neighborhood where Mundo grew up had gone missing. By his teenage years, his parents were nowhere to be found. By the time he had legally acquired his license to practice medicine, he had been acquitted of thirty-eight separate charges of murder by the Zaun authorities; the lack of evidence made prosecution impossible.
Dr. Mundo has become equal parts serial killer and mad scientist, though no one is entirely sure how his butchery qualifies as science. However, he has made tremendous strides in mapping the pain response in the human brain and body, going so far as being able to suppress it, even in the most excruciating of circumstances. He has also tapped into the primal parts of the brain through chemistry, learning how to enhance aggression and adrenaline, as well as dulling conscience and the survival instinct. In short, Dr. Mundo's life's work has been how to create the perfect science-enhanced killer.
Unfortunately, the city-state of Noxus regards such behavior as a sign of initiative and ambition, rather than inhumanity. Originally fighting for Zaun, Dr. Mundo was recruited to also fight for Noxus in the League of Legends; the Madman dual faction status represents the fruits of a blossoming relationship between Zaun and Noxus. He continues his experiments to this day, even using himself as an experimental subject, as evidenced by his disfigured appearance and his... unique manner of speaking. There are rumors that the High Command in Noxus has given him free reign to pursue his life's work in his spare time.
|October 23rd, 2009||Added. Original story.