A quick reply to some reviews:
Pucelle: I am honoured you're enjoying, it means a lot (:
Aviaann: Thank you. For your second part, would Ivy be able to enjoy something like that? Orignal DC Ivy could kill with just a touch of skin as far as I'm aware, so intimate romance wasn't an option for her. Maybe something to look into the future though, thanks.
Guest and SwiftWolfBeta(you both said the same thing basically): 'Being evil is stupid. Being evil in DC is stupider.'
I would agree with you if this wasn't a gamer fic. Being evil, if you're on earth anyway, is pretty stupid. But if you have something that allows you to continually grow, almost infinitely, you can disregard the morals of being good and bad.
Also, it's not like she's being "evil" on purpose. Her brain and psyche has been tampered with and moulded by her transformation, and several perks, leaving her unable to comprehend some human emotions she might have once experienced. Empathy, compassion and some social constructs to name a few, much like how the original Ivy went from a shy Botanist to an evil seductress and a man-hating killer.
The fact she has a perk that makes her feel more superior than others doesn't help her case.
To further expand on my point - This might come off as edgy, so I apologise in advance:Humans are, as a species anyways, selfish in nature. But characteristics like compassion and sympathy, they stop the majority of us from making decisions that would benefit us but harm someone else.
So if you take away those base emotions, the ones that allow you to relate to another human, put yourself in their shoes, you get someone like Ivy. Uncaring of others lives, selfish, manipulative, someone who would do anything to achieve a goal, regardless of the effects and consequences on those around them.To link back to my first point, she isn't doing it on purpose, it's just all she knows. Those emotions have been stripped away, and she was floating around in the void for an unspecified amount of time, with the loss of most of her memories. It's like asking a blind man to describe the colour red, she just simply doesn't have any concept of it anymore. I hope that clears things up. I understand some people might be impatient to see why she's being evil in a world with heroes that could end you with a flick.I'm not saying she's completely emotionless, she has the potential to care for someone other than herself, but it'll be a long and bumpy journey before she gets there.Anyway, thanks for the review.
Chamberstane: 'Narcissism doesn't compel you to insult others'
"Narcissistic personality disorder involves a pattern of self-centred, arrogant thinking and behaviour, a lack of empathy and consideration for other people, and an excessive need for admiration. Others often describe people with NPD as cocky, manipulative, selfish, patronizing, and demanding."
You're partly right, but those with NPD usually demean and insult others to feed their complex and need for attention. I've done a bit of research, and the cases differ for each person. Some are reserved, bored with life because they think there is nothing or none one that is better than them, therefore being with others is pointless.
Some are the stereotypical you think of when you think of a narcissistic person: Loud, arrogant, selfish, craving attention, manipulative, with dreams of having power and control over others. It depends on the person. I haven't gone too deep into the subject for Ivy, but it'll make itself more apparent when she's established a foothold for herself in the world.
If you're still not convinced, let me give you a superficial reason. This was a perk created by an entity that wants to be entertained. He's(or it?) going to be dialling up the effects of normal symptoms to make things more interesting for himself. He is God in this universe, for all intents and purposes, every detail is sculpted by him. So making NPD be a bit more severe/different than it usually would be is childs play.
Sorry if I sounded a little aggressive in that message, I don't mean to be. Thanks for the review (:
Several people said the stat was formatted Incorrectly, so I've re-arranged the order of the stats.
I put down the newspaper, watching the bank from across me. It seemed relatively busy from the hour I had been watching it. I've scouted the exterior of the building, no guards but around six cameras, covering all angles of the building. Alas, I think I've got all I can from the outside of the building, so I need to be inside.
I 'borrowed' some clothing from a charitable member of society, a large trenchcoat, a hat, some sunglasses and a bandana. I look shady, but it's the only way I can get this close without anyone realising my skin isn't normal. I've seen some reports on the news reporting me missing, with any information to be reported to the police department immediately.
But I'm not going to be found. Because if I am, I'll be shipped to Arkham, undergoing some weird experiment trying to uncover what happened to me.
I sigh, picking up the newspaper again. It's titled, 'The Riddler Strikes again.' He'd killed a club of individuals claiming to be 'Genius Intellects' and left a riddle at the scene, daring anyone to solve it.
Something else that I found interesting was that the Justice League hadn't been founded yet, nor had any major superheroes like Superman appeared. Batman was around, but he'd only cropped up about a year ago. This means that I'm in an early era of DC, one without OP heroes to stop me. Worst case scenario Batman appears, he'll probably be too inexperienced to catch me. I'll be doing this during the day too, so I won't have to worry about Batman on this particular operation.
Though before the legendary Batman became Batman, he was getting beat up by random thugs on the street, and this was around the start of his career. It differs depending on the version like Bale Batman was trained extensively by the Leauge and was a badass immediately.
Right now, however, the only thing I need to worry about is the GCPD and maybe some supervillains. Catwoman and Riddler have made an appearance, so I can count on people like Victor Zsasz wandering about doing as they please.
I fold the newspaper, placing it into a pocket on my coat, heading to the doors of the bank.
Gotham is a lot nicer during the day, sure there's still a lot of crime, but nothing compared to its night counterpart. The streets are busy, and the familiar smell of petrol lingers in the air. The buildings, bleak and gloomy, hang over the city like an overbearing protector. Gotham at its finest.
I reach the bank doors, opening them. I'm immediately greeted by a guard, equipped with a pistol and a radio. I'll have to take him out first. Can't let him warn the police that I'm here. I keep walking, though a few people give me weird glances. Not surprising, when every inch of my skin is covered.
There are a few guards behind the area of the bank teller, guarding the entrance of the vault. There's a selection of security cameras placed around the room, just like outside, covering most angles. I approach the teller, she looks slightly nervous.
"Hello Ma'am. How can I help you today?"
My voice is a little muffled by the bandana, "I'd like to withdraw, my name is Lucy Isley."
"Of course, Miss Isley. Do you have your card or a cheque?"
I pat down my trenchcoat, pretending to search for it. "I must have left it at home! How silly of me. I'll be back in 10. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."
She looks confused but nods, "That's not a problem Miss Isley. The bank doesn't shut for another couple of hours, as long as you're back before then I'm more than happy to help."
I nod gratefully, turning to leave. I spot another two guards patrolling the bank, one of them occasionally looking in my direction. I can't see any more cameras on the way out, but that doesn't mean I found them all. Around five guards and eight cameras. Let's round that up for the worst-case scenario, ten cameras and eight guards. There's no way I'll be able to sneak in as I am without a fight, and I have no idea how fast the GCPD will reach the bank...
Wait...
I think I have an idea. I'll need a couple of volunteers, some subtlety and a little luck, but I can pull this off easily. I can walk into the bank and take the money, without anyone being alerted to the robbery.
I'll need some help, so I think now is a perfect time to use a character token.
[Would you like a quick tutorial about character tokens?]
That would be helpful, Lucy.
[When you use a character token, you will be given a short backstory and a small rundown of their abilities.]
[Characters summoned from Gacha will start at 90 affection, but depending on how you treat them it can increase or decrease.]
So treat them well, and they'll keep following my lead. I was expecting it to be more complicated, but that sounds like a good trade-off.
[The characters retain their personalities, though as stated will not harm/betray you unless you give them a reason to.]
I'll have to be careful then. Summoning a character stronger than me and them betraying me would just be embarrassing.
Lucy, use character token.
[Rolling... Rolling... Rolling... Rolling...][Quiet retrieved!]
[Quiet Token:
Quiet is an assassin and Mercenary from the Metal Gear Solid universe. She was subjected to parasite therapy, giving her unique abilities.
Quiet follows her name almost religiously, only speaking once to save her friend. The parasite therapy gives her enhanced strength, mobility and speed as well as inhuman resilience, durability and recovery abilities.
She is only able to breathe through her skin, wearing too much clothing will suffocate her, as a result, she wears little clothing. She requires water like a plant would, following the rules of photosynthesis. She has short-range teleportation.]
I vaguely remember Quiet, she was the one who snake spared in Phantom Pain. For a first roll, I got lucky. She has a wide range of abilities such as stealth and assassination. The only problem is, for my idea to work, we need to be fully clothed. She can't help me with the actual robbery, but I have something she could do for me.
[When you are ready to summon the character, crush the token you received. They will appear, initially loyal to you. As stated previously, your actions will determine if they stay that way.]
I get it, Lucy, be nice or she'll betray me, I think I've got the memo.
[Partly false. Being nice is not the only prerequisite. Your actions in this world will determine what they think of you. Some characters will be good-natured, others evil. Some will be neutral and uncaring of your actions, following you despite who you are or what you do. Each character is different.]
So it's like a companion system from the Fallout series?
[Scanning... That is a just comparison. Not the same, but similar enough.]
Right... And how many characters can I summon at once?
[For every 20 levels, 1 characters can be summoned. The current summon limit is 1.]
Let's say I have three characters, I've summoned all three at one point or another, but my limit is two. What happens to the one I can't summon?
[They eagerly await in the void, waiting to be summoned. Those who betray you sever this, becoming free from your control.]
Well then, no matter what I'll just have to keep them loyal, and only summon those who will support my actions. For Quiet? I have no idea honestly.
[Quiet Alignment- Netural]
[Quiet will follow whoever she bonds with.]
You're being helpful for once Lucy. Thank you. So I can summon Quiet without issue, which is good because I'll be needing her for the next part.
Now, it's time I pay a visit to the information broker. He has something I need.
Two figures sat in a dark, lifeless room. The only source of light a flickering candle on the side.
"Are you sure you're making the right choice here? I mean, you plucked her right off the streets."
"Elliot, you didn't see what I saw. Anyways, this part of the operation requires a woman's touch. There are three men on the team and I'm the only girl."
"Cat, you're a re--"
"It's Catwoman. Not Cat."
The man placed a hand onto his face, frustrated. Catwoman was potentially putting the operation at risk with this stunt of hers, and here she was acting like nothing was wrong.
"Relax. I told her next to nothing. If she's caught at the bank, nothing leads to us. If she's successful, we get a valuable ally and some funding. It's a win-win situation. I don't know why you're so wound up about it."
The man sighed, "Fine. But I want to run a background check on her. Her real name, her history, her parents, her age, the goddamn nurse who was there when she was born. If this blows back up in our face, you're taking the fall."
Catwoman stood, grabbing the jacket placed on her chair, "That won't happen. She seems like a good girl."
Elliot remained silent, arranging his thoughts.
"You seem stressed, Elliot. If you want to relieve any, my offer's still open. Call me."
"I'm not so easily wrapped around your finger like other men, Selina. You should know that by now."
Selina walked behind the man, wrapping her arms around him, whispering in his ear, "Every man has his limits. I just need to find yours."
She removed herself, the man not noticing the absence of his wallet.
"Til next time, Elliot."
"One more thing. This girl, what did you say she called herself?"
"It was a cute nickname, Ivy I think? Why?"
"Ivy... It sounds familiar, that's all. And you said she was in a hospital gown, with green skin?"
"Yup. That's what I said..."
"Hmmm. That's all. Goodbye, Cat."
She eyed the man for a few moments before leaving, the door clicking softly behind her. Elliot turned his attention to the table, his eyes scanning around the table, searching for something. He clicked his tongue in annoyance before his eyes landed on what he was searching for.
"There we are... Missing Dr Isley found... No recollection of memory... Skin color changed... Runaway from Hospital... Plant-like anatomy..."
Elliot smiled, putting down the newspaper. Pamela Isley, an experiment running free. Yes, perhaps Catwoman was right, she could be useful. Although, not in the way she thinks. Only time will tell...
The Broker filed away another document, a content expression resting on his face. Working in the underworld of Gotham was dangerous, albeit a profitable job. Though clients were declining of late. The underworld was evolving. Many clients preferred to discuss details online, rather than in person. He understood that, of course. Working online bore no risk compared to that of armed men discussing a trade in person.
He powered on the computer, searching through various emails.
An annoyed look came over his face as his eyes scanned over the contents of his inbox.
'Enlargement Pills! Make it bigger!''Hot singles in your area! Click here to find them!''You won't last 30 seconds! Click this link to find out.'
Spam emails, without exaggerating, were the bane of his existence. Any potential clients looking to contact him were overshadowed by these disgusting and utterly ridiculous emails, boasting all kinds of promises they couldn't fulfil.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me, he idly thought.
A knock on the door brought him out of his musings. He looked at his watch resting on his arm. Strange, customers don't usually come this late...
"Give me a few moments, I'll be right there."
He opened his desk, grabbing the key and a gun. Checking it was loaded, he nodded in satisfaction, before moving to the door. One hand twisted the door handle, while the other pointed towards the door, ready to fire upon the potential intruder.
The door opened, the Broker greeted with the sight of a trench coat clothed woman.
He lowered the gun, sighing in relief, "Ivy. I didn't think you'd be back this soon. Is the hideout not to your standards?"
Ivy walked in, the man shutting the door behind her.
"The hideout is sufficient. I'm here for other matters."
She spoke with a stern tone, leaving no room for argument. He gestured to a seat.
"Of course. What can I do for you this time?"
Ivy had come to him a few days earlier, requesting for a place to stay. He initially refused, as the girl had no money, but he found she could be very persuasive. She insisted she had a job, a high paying one at that, and would pay him back soon, with interest. When greeted with such an argument, who was he to refuse?
"I need information, regarding the GCPD. I need a couple sets of their SWAT uniforms."
The Broker walked over to his kitchen counter, pouring himself a whiskey, "You want anything to drink?"
"Strictly here for business. Maybe another time?"
"Uh-huh. Regarding the uniforms, let's say I got you them. What do you need them for?"
"The job I was telling you about, I scouted it out earlier. With the uniforms, I could stroll in and simply take the money."
He took a sip from the glass, nodding slowly.
"I see. Well, Miss Ivy, that is something I can certainly do for you. I suppose I'll just add this to your tab as well?"
She nodded. The Broker analysed her curiously. She had turned up from nowhere, claiming that she had been pointed in his direction after looking for a safe place to stay. She hadn't shown her face, not that he couldn't blame her. Most clients prefer to remain anonymous, which he agreed with. The less he knows about the people he's dealing with, the better.
"I can probably get the information right now, it'll take five minutes. Or you can head out now, I'll send the info over tomorrow?"
"I'll wait. What're five minutes from the millions that await?"
The Broker could tell there was something off about her. She covers every aspect of herself like she's afraid of showing it. Gotham was home to a number of freaks, even more so lately, so he wouldn't be surprised if she was one of them.
"A controversial take. Some would say that every minute counts. That time is the only currency that matters."
She lowered her sunglasses, the man seeing her emerald orbs for the first time. They were beautiful.
"I wasn't aware that I came here to argue philosophy?"
He coughed out a response, "Of course not. Just some idle chatter while I wait for a response from my informants."
She hummed, her angelic voice making his heart rapidly speed up.
"In that case, I'd be happy to tell you what I think."
"I'd love to hear your thoughts, Miss Ivy."
"Hmmm. I think time, like all other concepts, will be conquered by mankind. Technology improves by the day, no? Compare the technology of twenty years ago to now. It's almost unbelievable the progress we have achieved as a species."
"An interesting point. You don't think there's a limit? A roof that we'll eventually hit, one which would stop us from progressing?"
"Perhaps. But they'll be someone who can break through even the strongest roof, no matter how long it takes."
"Wha--"
A ding echoed through the room, interrupting the conversation. He pulled his phone from his jacket, reading the message. A smile graced his lips, turning to look at Ivy.
"Good news. Tomorrow, there's a truck transporting new uniforms to the GCPD. It's loosely guarded, if you can intercept it, the uniforms are all yours."
Ivy leaned forward, resting her hands below her chin, "Just tell me where and when. I'll be there."
-Later
The character token rolls between my fingers, waiting to be crushed. I stand on a building overseeing a segment of the Fashion District. The truck would pass through here, carrying the uniforms that I needed.
This way is longer, more gruelling than just brute-forcing my way into there. That way would be fun of course, but I don't want to bring attention to myself yet. Which unfortunately means no [Mother of Plants], or anything that could link back to me. This is why I'm using SWAT uniforms. It'll give me easy access to the building, vault and an exit, leaving before anyone grew suspicious.
I need to become much more powerful before I reveal myself to the world. Yes, people like Superman and Wonder Woman hadn't revealed themselves yet, but when they do I don't want any evidence against me that they could use to lock me away.
My attention returns to the token before me. I'll need to convince some goons to help me with the job, which shouldn't be too hard. I'd levelled [Pheromone Influence] to Lvl.9 now. I passively used it when talking with The Broker, and it worked wonders. He gave me a free base of operations, though he thinks he'll be receiving the money for that. He won't be.
If [Pheromone Influence] isn't high enough level to convince him to drop my debt next time I speak with him, I'll just have to kill him. It's a shame, he's quite the wealth of knowledge in Gotham, but if I can't get a guarantee he won't talk, tying up loose ends is a priority.
I remove myself from the ledge of the building, moving to the centre of it. The truck will be here soon, I'll need Quiet's help.
I crush the token, the pieces slipping through the gaps of my fingers, onto the roof of the building. A blinding light appears for a few moments, before dissipating. Standing before me is Quiet, her slender form standing gracefully before me. She looks like an exact copy from the game, but real. Beautiful.
I cast [Observe].
Quiet - Lvl.19 [Servant of Ivy]
Alignment: Neutral
HP:400
MP:100
SP:210
STR: 98
CON:68
DEX:79
INT:45
WIS:18
CHA:14
LUK:25
Thoughts about you- She is bonded to you and will follow your every move.[Affection: 90/100]
[Code Of Assassins] - Quiet[50]
Your affection and reputation grow faster with those who are professional Assassins.
[Unique rewards are given upon reaching 50 and 100 affection with a character.]
[Reputation is similar to affection. Reputation shows how well known you are. People can respect you highly, but have low affection for you.]
The system is huge. There are still new things cropping up every day...
Lucy, how are Quiet's stats so high, yet she's only Lvl.19?
[Answer: Quiet is a summoned character who gains bonus stats. Quiet also has a wide array of skills and abilities that boost her stats.]
And I assume my servants level scales with me, considering she was summoned at the same level as me?
[Correct. Unless you gain a legendary character summon, servants will scale with you.]
This was better than I was expecting, Quiet is stronger than me. It's a little hit to my pride, but a quick [Observe] shows that she'll follow my every order. I summoned her here, so technically she's an extension of myself.
She kneels before me, her hair gracefully blowing in the wind, awaiting my command.
I stand before her, stroking her hair fondly. Yes, she and I will do great things together. My first true ally in this world.
"Quiet. A shipment of uniforms will pass here, I want your help in getting them."
She nodded.
That's right, she won't speak in fear of giving me the parasite. I don't want to risk getting it either, so until I can find a way to remove it, this will have to suffice.
"The plan is simple. There should only be one patrol car escorting it, so I need you to stop the truck. Whether that's standing in front, knocking out the driver, or whatever else you want to do. Don't kill unless the van is escaping or your life is in danger. Understood?"
She stands, nodding in confirmation, pulling an M24 from her back. She moves to the ledge of the building, lying down, unfolding the mount of the rifle and placing it on the ledge. I sit next to her, hanging my legs of the building. I'm not worried I'll fall and if I do, I'm sure I'll be fine.
We wait for ten minutes, Quiet not moving a muscle. I shouldn't be surprised, she's a deadly assassin. Being patient is a vital skill if you want to survive in that business.
She pats my arm, pointing to the street. The truck glides through the street, a patrol car trailing behind it.
"You know what to do, Quiet."
She stands up, heaving the sniper back onto her back. Without hesitation, she throws herself off the building, straight into the middle of the road. The ground cracks under the pressure, Quiet landing nimbly, completely unharmed.
The truck stops, the driver getting out to witness the damaged ground. I summon a [Venus Flytrap], jumping from the building. The wind whips at my face, and the feeling is exhilarating.
I land softly in the maws of the plant, giving it a pat of gratitude. The plants I summon are indeed alive, and happy to serve me. The original Ivy was weak in that manner, she often served the plants, not the other way around. And that was a mistake. They need someone to guide them, or they are lost.
The flytrap lowers me to the ground and I jump from its jaws, finally reaching the ground. The driver still stands before Quiet, his mind unable to acknowledge what he had just seen.
I move to the man, grabbing his hand and activating [Paralytic Touch] numerous times, making sure he would stay down.
[Congratulations, Paralytic Touch has levelled up! Paralytic Touch is now level 10.]
[Time paralysed has increased from 40 seconds to 1 minute.]
I had been passively levelling all my skills while searching for the broker. Whether that was on homeless men, or people trying to corner and rob me. I'd levelled most of my skills to Lvl.10 and [Krav Maga] was currently at 21, though that's due to the [Unarmed Combatant] Perk. Once I get it to 50, I can choose a different class.
The two officers from the patrol vehicle exit their car, their guns drawn. They cower behind the doors of the vehicle.
"Hands-on your head, and on the ground! You have five seconds, or we will shoot! I repeat we will shoot!"
Quiet stands next to me, awaiting permission to take the men out.
I nod, a small smile appearing on her face. She vanishes from beside me, appearing behind the two officers, unbeknownst to them. She draws a pipe looking object, putting it to her lips. She blows, a dart exiting and finding itself in the man's neck.
He tries to speak, but his words are slurred. He collapses to the ground, unconscious.
[Police Officer Defeated By Servant - Only half XP is given.][You received 50XP.]
There goes the plan of me making Quiet grind the dungeons for me. The fact I still get XP is a positive though, but half is still quite the penalty.
The other officer sees his friend fall, turning his gun onto Quiet. He fires, but she's already gone. She grabs a dart, shoving it straight into the man's neck. The effects are much quicker this time, as he immediately falls to the ground in a crumpled heap.
[Police Officer Defeated By Servant.][You received 50XP.]
I waste no time, entering the truck, Quiet teleporting into the seat next to me. We drive off, the streets of Gotham watching the scene with disinterest. This is my first time driving in this world, but I think I've got the hang of it. Now I just need to find somewhere discreet and I can grab the uniforms...
-Later
I dumped the truck off, who knows if they had something tracking the vehicle. I had eight uniforms, all stored in my inventory. I feel giddy, the adrenaline of the moment still pumping throughout my body.
[Mini Quest completed!]
Acquire the uniforms by any means necessary.
Rewards: 1100XP, SWAT uniforms, 2x M4 Carbines, 1x MP5 Submachine Gun
I'm in the base of operations, Quiet resting on a chair opposite me. She's going to be very useful to me, though, unfortunately, she can't accompany me to the bank. But the weapons she and I got from the quest reward will help sell the role, so I can't complain much.
The last component of my plan is simple, though I don't know who I want to help. I need three or four guys, just to make the act look real. If I turn up there myself, they probably won't believe I'm from the GCPD.
I would go to The Broker, but I need to do this myself. He won't be here much longer if he tries to pressure me about the debt, so I need to rely on myself.
Should I go on the street and ask random people to help? Hold a family hostage and blackmail someone? Hire professionals and then get rid of them?
Decisions, decisions. I can't even ask Quiet for her input, as she doesn't know how to write...
Ah. I know what to do. The Broker mentioned he had set up a computer connected to the Dark Web, the default tab on a forum for looking and posting jobs. I'll post something vague on there, get the people to meet up. Then using [Pheromone Influence, I'll convince them they'll get their pay after the job. Which won't be happening of course, but they don't need to know that.
I sit down at the computer, posting a brief description of how I need three men for a high-stakes robbery job, and that the details can be discussed in person.
Not even a minute later I get a response, asking where to meet up. Gotham really is the hub of crime, isn't it? Let's see... Meeting up at Crime Alley would be ironic, wouldn't it?
I tell Quiet to remain here, a few thugs won't be of any danger to me if they try to anything.
I leave the house, noting the sun starting to sink, the last remaining traces of light disappearing behind the clouds. I call over a cab, quickly entering.
The driver swivelled around, "Where to?"
"Crime Alley."
"Crime Alley huh? You be careful around there missy, it's a rough place to be wandering."
The journey is relatively silent, I flick through a phone I had stolen. There are virtually no apps that I remember from my past life, which I blame missing memories for.
Looking from the window of the car, I saw citizens rushing home, fear coursing through them at the thought of being outside at night in Gotham. Most of Gotham remains the same, no matter what district you travel to. Bleak, dreary and utterly lifeless.
"We're here miss. Just down that alley there. Hope you have some sorta protection on ya."
I lean over to him, "I do. Say, can I ask you something?"
He turns, his face nearly touching into mine, "What--"
My lips crash onto his, giving him no time to pull away. He immediately relaxes, leaning into it. A similar putrid smell enters my mouth, the same as my last victims - stale beer.
I pull away after a few seconds, a grimace evident on my face. I hate doing it, seems like no one in Gotham maintains dental hygiene.
Objective: Kill 100 Humans with [Kiss Of Death] [23/100]
The driver slumps over dead, a satisfied look on his face. At least they die happy. His head rests on the wheel, the horn coming to life.
I'm sure my unique killings will garner the attention of the police sooner or later, but I've mostly been preying on the homeless. Fortunately for me, no one seems to care about the homeless, writing their death off as natural causes. The skill doesn't seem to leave any evidence behind, none visible to the naked eye anyway.
I exit the cab, following the now dead drivers directions. The closer I get to the alleyway the colder it seems to get. Many of the buildings in Gotham looked abandoned, but in reality, it was just the lack of funding received by the Government. Overcrowding and poverty were a common theme in the dregs of Gotham society.
I reach the narrow alleyway, the buildings derelict, having seen no use for years now. The pavement itself is well-maintained however, obviously Bruce contributes money to keep it clean.
There's a selection of flowers resting in the middle of the path. This must have been where his parents were killed. It's a shame, were they still alive I wouldn't have to deal with the nuisance to come that is Batman.
I hear footsteps behind me, eerily reminding me of the last encounter I had in a dark alleyway. I turn to see three men stalking towards me.
They stop just a few meters opposite of me.
I can't see much due to the darkness of the alleyway, but they all look relatively tough. Here are my first set of expendable thugs...
A gruff voice speaks out, "You the one we supposed to be meetin?"
I clap my hands together in excitement. The first big event in the DC world, the start of my legacy that I will burn into this world, willing or otherwise.
"Gentleman. I'm glad you could join me. Shall we discuss the finer details?"
-Later
Mrs Davis was having a very bad week. That much was to be expected, she lived in Gotham after all. But this week had been arguably the worst of her life.
Earlier this week her husband had been found dead in an alleyway and there was no obvious cause of death. It seemed like he just...died of a heart attack.
But he was healthy, Oh Henry was the healthiest man she knew. Her husband trained every day, ever since he had returned from war ten years ago. Him being found in a ditch in some filthy excuse of an alleyway? It didn't make sense.
And then there was the fact of the gang war breaking out between the Falcones and Maronis. The dead littered the streets in droves, the GCPD barely lifting a finger to help. Her sister, Irene, was killed in a crossfire between the two gangs. Oh, sweet Irene...
She had come to the bank today, to withdraw some of the inheritance money from her fallen family. Mrs Davis had concluded that living in Gotham was akin to living in hell and she wanted to stay no longer.
"Ah, Mrs Davis? We were told you scheduled an appointment with us today?"
The ageing woman sat across from the banker, shifting uncomfortably.
Every time she visited a bank she became nervous, ever since they took her old house from her in exchange for paying off her debt. Bankers were vipers, searching for any weakness within their customers.
"Ye-Yes, that's right. I'm here to withdraw a significant sum of cash. I'm aware it's short notice, I'm terribly sorry, bu-but I need it."
The banker rolled his eyes, the gesture not going unnoticed by the woman. He withdrew a file from his desk, peeling the pages open.
"Right of course... It says here Mrs Davis that your sister and husband died recently, and you've come to acquire one hundred and fifty thousand dollars collectively, is that right?"
"Yes... That's right," She replied timidly.
The man let out a deep sigh, "Mrs Davis, I apologize for your losses. But unfortunately, we can't give you the amount you requested - at least not yet. The maximum we can allow you to leave with today is five hundred."
Her usual nervousness vanished, a shaking fury rising to replace it.
"Five HUNDRED?! Is this some kind of joke? I need more than that! I need to leave Gotham TONIGHT!"
"Mrs Davis please, there's no need to get violent. Calm down or I'll have to call security."
Mrs Davis grabbed her cane, her eyes boring into the bankers. She felt the hot iron of anger grow stronger, the longer she looked at the man the more it grew, begging her to teach him a lesson.
"You're all the same. Looking out for yourselves. Does no one in Gotham have a shred of dignity left? An ounce of compassion?"
The banker sat in his chair, refusing to meet her eyes.
"I hope you're proud of yourself young man. Gotham used to be a city to be proud of. Not anymore."
The old woman hobbled out of the office and into the main area of the bank, storming to the exit. She was leaving Gotham tonight, money or no money.
"EVACUATE THE BANK! THERE'S A BOMB IN THE BANK!"
The doors of the bank burst open, a team of SWAT officers entering, their guns drawn.
The bank was silent for a moment, the residents digesting what was said.
Then the screaming began, the people clawing for the exits. Disregard for one another's lives, they climbed over each other in an attempt to escape their fiery deaths.
Mrs Davis's anger vanished, replaced by fear and panic. Her hand tightened around her cane, gripping it so hard she thought it would break. She hobbled to the exit in a futile attempt to escape. But it was too late.
She felt a hand push her, falling to the ground with a scream. Her chin bounced off the floor and blood rose to her throat. She felt the feet of those around her trample her, uncaring of her position.
"Henry... Help..."
A distorted voice called around her but she refused to listen. She was tired of living in this city, in this world. She just wanted it to be over...
"Are you okay, are you hurt?"
She felt herself being raised up carefully, the feeling of footsteps trampling her fading away.
She felt herself looking into the eyes of one of the SWAT officers, her emerald eyes peering into hers. Mrs Davis couldn't see the rest of this woman - only her eyes were visible, the rest of her face being covered by the balaclava. But she knew, she could tell for a fact, that this woman was gorgeous. And she was her saviour.
"I'm fi-fine. Thank you miss."
Her saviour nodded, looking around the bank for a few moments, searching for something.
"You wouldn't have happened to see the manager of this Bank? His safety is of my utmost priority."
The thought of the foul man brought back the feeling of fury within her but she quelled it. For this girl, she would do anything.
"Yes, I saw him in the back a few minutes ago. He might still be there."
Mrs Davis followed the green orbs of the woman, looking in the direction of the manager's office.
"Thank you."
The grip that was lifting her disappeared, sending Mrs Davis tumbling back onto the ground. Her eyes begged for the help of the SWAT officer, but she had already turned her attention elsewhere. She landed with a thud, tears spilling from her eyes.
Once again, Mrs Davis was left alone.
I drop the old lady, my eyes turning to the Managers office. The bank was utterly empty, the staff and customers retreating outside. My plan worked without a hitch. The presence of four armed SWAT members claiming a bomb threat had been issued cleared out the place pretty quickly. The bank itself was quite impressive, against Gotham standards anyways. Large stone pillars supported the structure of the bank, a collection of expensive art covering the walls of the bank. I would take the art, but any attempt to sell it would inevitably lead back to me.
My boots clicked off the marble floor, striding over to his office. I had a backup plan if the manager wasn't here, but that would be much louder and attract a lot more attention.
I reach the door, delivering a swift kick. It flies off its hinges, hitting the wall of the office, a webbing of cracks appearing.
I see movement under the desk, his expensive shoes exposing his location. A smile forms under the balaclava.
"Sir, a bomb has been placed in this building. You need to evacuate immediately."
His head popped out from under the desk, relief flooding his face.
"Oh thank God. I thought it was a robbery. Thank you for the warning officer. I assure you, you'll be greatly awarded for rescuing me."
I wasn't sure if the guy was an idiot or not. But it makes it easier for me anyways...
He crawls from under the desk, straightening his tie. He gives me a nod of appreciation, intending on leaving the office.
I grab his wrist as he passes me, my grip tightening like a snakes.
"Officer...? What is the meaning of this?"
I say nothing, exiting the office and dragging him along behind me. He stutters, unable to form a coherent sentence as I reach the entrance of the vault.
A passcode and a handprint await me.
I point the rifle at him, his body freezing in terror.
"Open it. Or you die."
"I-You... You won't get away with this! I bet the GCPD is on their way right now!"
Ah, the cliché line. I lower the gun, my fingers loosely wrapping around his throat.
"You don't need to worry about that. The GCPD won't be here for a while."
I activate [Pheromone Influence]. It seems to work better with physical contact. It took a lot of... experimenting to figure that out.
"Open it."
This time he doesn't protest, so I drop him. He starts typing in a passcode while placing his hand down onto the scanner. The vault door clicked, the metal groaning in protest as it opened.
I look back towards my crew, them having already taken out all the cameras. Before we came here I ordered one of the idiots to the security room to wipe all of yesterday's footage as well, I don't want anything linking me here.
I return my attention to the vault room. One last obstacle. There's a steel door blocking my way into the vault. I don't want to waste any explosives.
"The key. You have it?"
His eyes are slightly glazed over, my [Pheromone Influence] becoming stronger every time I used it. His hand enters his jacket pocket, pulling out a key. I have no idea why Gotham banks give one of their staff members power to open the vault by themselves, but I'm not complaining.
I grab it, activating [Paralytic Touch]. The man falls to the ground, his eyes dancing around in panic. I equip a duffel bag from my inventory, one I had stolen earlier today. I slide the key into the hole and I'm rewarded with a satisfying click.
It swings open easily, granting me access to the riches. There are piles of money stacked upon crates, around a million I'd estimate. But the real loot is in the locked safes in the room. Jewellery, gold and any other overpriced commodity would be located there.
I add the piles of money to my inventory, noting that one million took up two inventory slots.
Usually, those wishing to rob backs would need some sort of special equipment to crack open these safes. Some sort of high-grade explosive or lock picking ability.
My STR can easily pierce through flesh and walls, so beating the safes until I can open them isn't much of a challenge. My fist connects with the safe, the metal caving in.
"Boss, we have about five minutes until the GCPD realises somethings wrong."
One of the thugs I recruited makes himself known from the entrance of the vault. Five minutes is plenty of time.
"Not a problem. Keep the entrances covered. Did you do as I asked with security feed?"
"Yes, Boss."
They may be dumb, but I can admit they get things done. Maybe I won't have to kill them?
"Go rejoin the others. I'll be done in here soon."
I don't hear an answer, his footsteps already fading away.
I peer inside the safe I broke open.
[White Gold Emerald and Diamond Pendant]
That's got to be worth something. I spend a few minutes breaking into the other safes, gathering items like rings and necklaces. There were some weird things too, like a gun made entirely from diamond. Obviously it wasn't functional, but I took it anyway.
"Boss, the GCPD are here. We need to go. Now!"
The thug rushes into the vault room, worry evident on his face.
Damn. Looks like I got a little greedy. It doesn't matter though, I can escape pretty easily...
These three would weigh me down, however. And letting henchmen live would certainly come back to bite me in the ass later. They could recognise my voice, or recover the post I made on the web. Letting them live would draw no benefits.
"Gentleman. I thank you sincerely for your help. You've done me a great service."
"Boss, what are you talking about? We nee--"
[Root strike] bursts from the ground, impaling the three men. They all stare at me in confusion, asking 'Why?'
[3x Hired thugs slain. 800XP gained.]
I hide the bodies in my inventory. Don't want the police searching their places now, do I?
I leave the vault, my duffel bag filled with expensive items and my inventory one million dollars richer. The bank didn't have as much as I expected, but I'm sure Catwoman and her group will commend my genius on how I completed the operation.
I can see through the front entrance, the red and blue lights flashing outside. There's a lot of them it seems.
"This is Lieutenant Gordon! We are giving you one chance to leave the building peacefully! You will be given a fair trial! Should you refuse, we will come with the intent to kill! You have thirty seconds to decide."
Jim Gordon, the future commissioner of the GCPD. A lovely surprise. I better get out of here before he storms the building with the real SWAT.
The back entrance is most likely surrounded now too, so my best option is the roof. I had planned for every possible outcome, so reaching the roof is easy. I climb up several flights of stairs, the air becoming colder the higher I climbed. I eventually reach the roof, the fresh air reaching my face. The sunlight reached the only visible part of me, my eyes, rejuvenating my strength.
I add my GCPD uniform back into my inventory, equipping my usual trench coat and glasses. They'll be looking for four criminals dressed in SWAT outfits.
I peer down from the ledge of the building, seeing the GCPD swarm into the building. They look like ants from up here, although that description isn't so inaccurate anymore when compared to me.
I summon [Root Strike, making it act as a bridge to another building. I doubt anyone will see me and if they do, I'll be long gone before they can do anything about it.
I reach the other building in mere moments due to my speed, dispelling the bridge. It disappears, with no evidence that it ever existed. Well, that was easier than I thought.
"I must say Red, I'm impressed."
I immediately equip my combat knife, pressing it against the speaker's throat. I turn to see Catwoman, beaming at me.
I slowly remove the knife from her throat, relaxing. How the hell did she sneak up on me?
"Red?"
"Mhm. I've got nicknames for everyone, so I was thinking of one for you. I came up with Red."
"Uh-huh..."
This version of Catwoman was slightly weird? Outward?
"About the job. Out of ten, how'd I do?"
Catwoman was an expert thief, that much I respected. Her opinion was bound to be positive. Not to praise myself, but the job went perfectly. Sure, the GCPD came a little earlier than expected but other than that...
"For a first time, not bad. You didn't get caught, a lot of people fail that first step. You reached the vault and its goodies, that's another point."
She held her two hands up, showing seven fingers.
"A seven out of ten. Personally, I would have been in and out of the vault in minutes, without them even knowing I was there. But, you're a rookie and you did well. Proud of you Red."
A measly 7/10? Is she crazy? The amount of planning I did... The uniforms, the crew, the signal jammer that delayed the silent alarm...
All that for a pathetic score?
"Don't look so down. Practice makes perfect! We'll be getting lots of practice together Red..."
She grabs my gloved hand, placing her goggles over her eyes.
"Now, you want to meet my group right? They're all dying to meet you. Especially Elliot."
I'm still disappointed over my score, but what's done is done. For a self-proclaimed thief, she knows nothing about robberies.
And she said Elliot? Hmmm. Any villains with the name of Elliot? I can't think of anything off the top of my head...
"They're a little intimidating at first sight. Especially Slade. But I'll be here to keep you safe."
She winks at me, leading me across the roof. I'm confused for a multitude of reasons, but there's one that comes to the forefront of my mind.
Slade? As in Slade Wilson? That was just me mishearing, right?
"Slade? Who is Slade?"
"Ah, don't worry about him. He's got a tough front, but as long as you don't annoy him you should be fine."
Catwoman, Deathstroke, Elliot and one more unknown member of the group. Who the hell was gathering these people and why?
I have no idea. But I intend to find out.
https/discord.gg/59xSNTee
Discord Link if anyone wants to talk