Gotham City
Tricorner Island
"Another wave of crime and gang violence overtakes Gotham shortly after the last one as the local gangs take to the streets armed and ready for war, joined by criminal elements from the neighboring cities..."
Inside one of the most impressive properties in the neighborhood, the news anchor can be heard speaking, but no one paid heed as the only two people in the house were rather preoccupied.
"You won't do anything. I know your type, vigilante," said Gavin White, one of the GCPD's most high-ranking and connected officers in the internal affairs department.
He said those words while unflinchingly staring into the glowing red eyes of the helmet worn by the man who broke into his house and began threatening him.
The vigilante didn't reply, sensing Gavin had more to say, and sure enough.
"Making idle threats is all you people are good for; I'm not afraid of you, Wraith," he added, dismissively waving his hand to the side as he made his peace.
"I could stand here and tell you how wrong you are and how many ways I have of ruining your life, but what's the point?" Wraith blankly replied, rooted in his spot, and Gavin could only scoff derisively at those words.
"I know your type as well, officer. You think that you're invincible, that can get away with anything because of your connections..." the vigilante added in the same blank tone, but the ridicule wasn't lost on the internal affairs agent.
"People like you only fold when it's too late, but I don't have time to play games with you," Wraith remarked, taking a step forward, making Gavin step back in fear despite his earlier words.
"I'll do this instead..." Wraith said as he retrieved a smartphone from his pocket and threw it at the crooked cop, who caught it out of instinct more than anything else.
"Take a look," the vigilante said in a tone that brokered no argument, and Gavin could do nothing but oblige after a few seconds of hesitation as he pressed the power button, causing a video to appear on the phone's screen.
Gavin touched the phone's screen, and the video started playing. It showed a red convertible sports car speeding through an empty street at night, only to come to a screeching halt as it hit a woman and her child, sending them flying.
The car's driver's door opened, and a young man who held a striking resemblance to Gavin drunkenly walked out, almost tripping and falling as he did.
The young man slowly walked to the woman and her child, bloodied and possibly dead. He kneeled next to the woman and rummaged through her purse, taking out several dollar bills before wiping his front pumper clean and hopping back into his car, and driving away. The video ended.
"You..." Gavin remarked, slowly raising his head to peer into Wrath's speechless as his complexion rapidly paled. "How..." he added, his tone growing another degree of panic.
"The hows, whens, and whats don't matter. What matters is that this video will destroy your son's life if it gets out," Wraith said, cutting the man off before he could keep stuttering incoherently.
"And there will be nothing you can do to help him, even with your connections and power, especially with them," the vigilante added, his tone mocking as if taking pleasure in Gavin's helpless expression.
"The only thing you can do to salvage your piece of shit excuse of a son is to do as I say and do it precisely..." the vigilante explained, crossing his arms in front of his place, and Gavin understood he was merely stating facts.
"There will be no questions, no second thoughts, or delays. We won't be having this conversation a second time. Do you understand?" Wraith asked, and Gavin found himself instinctively nodding with no choice but to comply.
"Good. You will call detective Deborah Tiegel. You will apologize and ask to take a second look at the files she brought you two days ago," the vigilante remarked, continuing the one-sided conversation.
"And you will help her get her job back and act on every piece of evidence she gives you. Her number is on the phone you're holding," the Wraith concluded in a matter-of-fact tone, and Gavin's only response was to contact Deborah immediately.
He quickly found the detective's number and raised his head to inform the vigilante that he'll be calling her immediately, flinching as he found no trace of Wraith, the latter having already left.
...
Gotham midtown
'I wonder shat's all this is about...' I mused, frowning as I looked down at the street, seeing numerous armed thugs prowling the roads, seemingly patrolling in search of something.
I'd spent the past four days doing nothing other than digging dirt on the people responsible for Deborah's case, entirely focused on getting the detective her job back.
My encounter with good old Gavin was the latest result of my work, and let me tell you, acting like some jumped-up, vigilante edge lord was not easy. I had the urge to cringe, and start rolling on the ground several times while threatening the internal affairs officer.
I have a newfound respect for Batman for not breaching his edgy act whenever he's in costume. Edge-Lording like that takes a lot of effort, and you gotta respect that, you know?
In any case, I paid no heed to anything and everything outside of the mission and even visited Richard to tell him I'll be taking the next couple of days off from training to focus on a personal matter.
He seemed confused as I've never missed a single day of training and sometimes even showed up when he told me not to, but left it there without prying too deeply.
Gavin White was not the first person I've visited, as I'd done the same whenever Deborah faced an obstacle, but he's the only one I had to threaten so much and put my edge lord face on to get him to fold.
Most of the people who got in Deborah's way would only need an email or for me to show up in their houses before agreeing to do whatever I asked them to with no real fuss.
I've asked myself countless times whether what I'm doing was worth it or not, whether I should do it or not, but in the end, my insecurity was the deciding factor, and such doubts would disappear as soon as they appeared.
But no matter how I justified myself with my need to know the truth of my existence and free will and to ascertain my ability to affect the world, I knew I'd regret my actions once everything was said and done, regardless of the outcome. Sooner or later.
'I'll probably end freaking out even more if I didn't regret it later...' I mused, bitterly smiling as I began browsing the net for news about what was happening in Gotham.
'I should probably call Selina and ask. She should have an idea about what's going on...' I raised an eyebrow as I saw the several missed calls from no other than Selina herself.
'This shit can't possibly be about me, right?' I frowned as I pondered the possibility but shook my head, deciding not to think about it too much and to call the brunette to get a definitive answer.
"Hello, Selina," I greeted as Selina answered the phone, and she quickly did the same, though her tone was weird and hard to read, giving me a bad feeling.
"I wanted to call you to ask what was happening in the city..." I asked, getting straight to the point, but continued before the brunette could answer.
"But I saw you were trying to contact me... do you need something?" I remarked, my tone curious as I paused, waiting for her to reply, and she quickly did.
"Yeah... I was a bit busy with a personal project for the past few days. I didn't have the leeway to check my phone and keep up with the news..." I said after Selina inquired about why I didn't answer her calls.
"Hmm? You were calling me about what's happening in the city?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as Selina began explaining the reason behind the current mess in the city.
"Black Mask did what...?" I exclaimed, reflexively raising my voice after hearing Selina's explanation, hoping I'd misheard, only for Selina to repeat her words with an increasingly amused tone.
"A million dollars? Seriously...? Can I turn myself in?" I asked with a bitter smile, my eyes widening in astonishment, to which Selina chuckled but remained quiet otherwise.
"Thanks for the tip... no, it's okay; I don't need help... I'll take care of it myself... Yeah. I'll see you later, then," I concluded, ending the call with a sigh of exasperation.
'Now... what to do...?' I mused as I turned to look down on the streets, only to frown, my brain freezing at the sight of a man in a pink jacket and domino mask riding a similarly colored motorcycle.
The man cackled like a madman while shouting something about killing the Wraith and eating his face while swinging the pink whip he held in his hands at everyone he passed by.
If I was to describe that guy, I'd say he looked like Ghost Rider if he was the gayest of gays and extremely bipolar.
'I'll start with this guy...' I decided, my expression darkening at the thought of some ridiculously dressed maniac trying to eat my face as I retrieved my steel wire and swung my way after him.
...
"I knew I'd be able to get your attention..." Eduardo Flamingo said, straightening his pink jacket as he watched his target appear from the shadows and slowly walk towards him.
"You vigilante types are all the same, after all..." the pink assassin added, a wide grin splitting his face. He dramatically spread his arms apart and laughed.
"All it took was a bit of showboating, beating the occasional pedestrian, and calling you out in public to get you right where I want you..." Eduardo said with a manic chuckle as he relaxed his arms, allowing them to fall to his sides.
"It's the oldest trick in the book, and you fell for it like an anvil from a skyscraper," the mercenary concluded as he retrieved a pink detonation device from his similarly colored jacket.
He was Eduardo Flamingo, the Penitente Cartel's top enforcer, and one of the most feared assassins in the world. He was famous for his cannibalistic tendencies, as he would eat the faces of his victims after killing them.
Despite his ridiculous appearance and demeanor, Flamingo had an impeccable kill record. He never failed to eliminate his target as he killed countless people during his years-long career as an assassin.
And his target for the day, the vigilante known as Wraith, would be nothing more than an afternoon meal and another number on his spotless ledger.
Or so Flamingo thought as he held on to the trigger in his hand, observing Wraith and looking forward to the vigilante's reactions to the grand revelation of his master plan.
However...
"Let me stop you right there, pal," Wraith said, his tone laced with no small amount of amusement, much to the demented mercenary's confusion as he tilted his head.
"Your plan was hot garbage. Only an idiot would fall for that kind of shabby schemed..." the vigilante intently added, turning to a dark corner of the empty construction site.
"But you know what? I'll humor you. Go ahead, activate that monitor, and show me the civilians you took hostage to threaten me," Wraith impatiently remarked while gesturing to the screen hidden beneath a white cloth.
Hearing those words, Flamingo started having second thoughts, but he was already in too deep to back down now. After a bit of hesitation, he moved and removed the cloth, revealing the monitor beneath it.
It was on, showing the live footage of a family of five, blindfolded and tied together with a single rope on the ground with a stack of pink dynamite attached to their bindings.
Looking at the screen, Doflamingo held back a sigh of relief, and the smugness returned to his visage as he tightened his grip on the detonation device.
"You had me worried there for a second. But that's as far as you'll go..." the demented mercenary said with a loud laugh, trying to hide his relief.
"Vigilantes... all you know is charging head first with no considerations," he added with a derisive snort and a shake of his head. Flamingo was blatantly looking down on the vigilante and his pathetic attempt to look calm and collected.
"But I'm not here to mince words with you. You already understand the situation. You will do as I say or else—" Flamingo said, his thumb resting on the trigger, but Wraith cut him off before he could continue.
"Or you'll blow the poor innocent family to oblivion, no?" Wraith said with a light chuckle, shaking his head in genuine exasperation. "Bit cliched, but simple and effective..." he blankly added after he stopped laughing in ridicule.
"I've had enough of your impudence! You will shut your mouth, or those people get it!" the pink psychopath exclaimed, his hand trembling in righteous rage as he pointed at the monitor.
"Go ahead then, give it to them," Wraith said, invitingly gesturing for him to do it, much to Flamingo's confusion. "How did you really think this would go?" the vigilante asked with a sigh, holding his forehead over the helmet in frustration.
"You're a psychopath who eats people's faces... did you really think I'd just surrender and let you kill me?" the vigilante asked, his tone getting colder with every word.
"Do you honestly expect me to believe that you'll let those people go if I let you kill me or capture me?" Wraith asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"You... what kind of fucking hero are you?!" Flamingo exclaimed, his tone a mixture of confusion and rage as he finally began losing his cool at not being in control.
"I'm no hero. And Even if I am one, even if I believe you, it wouldn't change a thing," the vigilante icily reasoned, causing Flamingo's expression to turn ugly.
"As long as I'm alive, I can save hundreds, thousands of people, so why would I, or anyone else, die for these five people?" Wraith concluded, heaving a final sigh and relaxing his arms.
Flamingo took a second to process Wraith's words and opened his mouth to retort. But nothing came out as he alternated his gaze between the vigilante, the trigger in his hands, and the monitor showing the hostages.
The demented mercenary stood rooted in place as the awkward silence stretched for a full minute. Wraith was content to watch, enjoying the conflicted expression on Flamingo's face.
"You're good..." Flamingo said, regaining his smile as he grinned at the vigilante. "You almost had me, but you're bluffing, aren't you?" he added with a loud cackle.
"What was the next step? Were you going to threaten to kill me if I blew up those people?" Flamingo asked, shaking his head as he calmed down and stopped laughing.
"I gotta say, you almost convinced me with your act, but I see it now. You're full of shit, just like all the other heroes," Flamingo said as he caressed the pink detonation finger with his thumb.
"Now, this is your final chance. Surrender immediately, or I'll blow those people to shreds," the mercenary hatefully concluded, his expression distorting in rage.
"Do it," Wraith replied, his tone bored as he faked a yawn. "I won't kill you either way. But I will be breaking every bone in your body. Whether you press that button or not changes nothing," the vigilante added in a matter-of-fact tone that grated Flamingo's nerves, finally causing him to snap.
"Then let their blood be on your hand!" Flamingo exclaimed, looking away from Wraith for a fraction of a second as he turned to the trigger, prepared to press it and kill the hostages.
However, a massive pain overcame Flamingo as a gunshot echoed in the empty construction site. He felt something hit his hand, forcing him to let go of the trigger.
The pink detonation remote wasn't the only thing that flew off his palm. He watched in horror as his thumb and index finger also fell before his eyes when he collapsed on the ground, clutching his profusely bleeding hand.
The demented mercenary's eyes widened in disbelief, and he raised his head to look at Wraith, holding a black pistol in his hands as he slowly walked towards him.
He gritted his teeth as he inspected the area, looking for the trigger, and he quickly found it. Flamingo grinned as he reached for the remote detonator with his intact arm.
"Nice trick, but they'll still die," the mercenary exclaimed as he quickly pressed the pink button on the detonator with a broad, maniacal grin and braced himself for the explosion.
Flamingo's grin turned stiff as the explosion he expected didn't happen. And he began frantically and repeatedly clicking the pink detonation button, still to no avail.
The mercenary only stopped pressing the detonator when Wraith reached him and buried his boot in his stomach, causing him to grunt and let go of the remote again.
"Did I ever tell you about the definition of insanity...?" Wraith said as he kneeled before the mercenary with what the latter imagined to be a mocking smile under the vigilante's helmet.
"It's repeating the same thing over and over, expecting a different result every time," Wraith added with a chuckle. He picked up the pink detonator, waving it in front of Flamingo's face.
"See this..." the vigilante remarked as he pressed the button. Nothing happened still. "Now look over there..." he added, gesturing towards the monitor that showed the hostages.
Flamingo turned to the monitor. His eyes widened as the footage suddenly changed, showing nothing but an empty room. No hostages or bombs in sight.
"The footage was a loop... I already disarmed the bombs and got the family out before coming here," Wraith stated with a chuckle. "As I said, I was just humoring you to see how big a fool you'd make of yourself..." he added, in no small amount of amusement.
"And you... how was it again...? Oh yes— you fell for it like an anvil from a skyscraper because, after all, you megalomanic psychopaths are all the same, are you not?
...
'Well... that was fun for about 10 seconds...' I mused, frowning as I watched the ridiculously dressed mercenary repeatedly opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.
'This is why I fucking hate it here...' I sighed as I stood up and kicked the mercenary on the forehead, immediately knocking him out and putting him out of his misery.
And here I was prepared to test the mercenary's limits to see how far I could go before he broke. I even prepared the pink dynamite stack I removed from the family to rub it in his face.
The entirety of DC comics (outside of major events) was one shit show put on an endless loop. Most of, if not all encounters between heroes and villains were all the same.
The stronger the hero, the more the villains who use the good-old do as I say, or I'll blow a bunch of people tactic showed up, like flies having a rave party at a dumpster.
How else would the comic writers make that one powerless villain seem impressive while emphasizing his intellect and ruthlessness when facing Superman or any other ridiculously overpowered Justice League member?
It makes sense if you think about it. How would any of the countless metropolis street thugs stand a chance against Superman and the other Kryptonians patrolling the streets 24/7?
They wouldn't. So what's a simple, god-fearing street thug to do? Take hostages to threaten the man of steel or any other softhearted, jacked-up alien/god, and it works every gad-damned time, well almost works anyway.
The heroes would eventually find a way to save the hostages and send the evil doer to jail, but only after a struggle, creating the illusion that taking hostages might actually work.
And what happens when someone doesn't fall for that reliable, tried, never failing trick? What happens when someone refuses to humor the supposedly oh-so-cunning villain?
As you can see, the supposedly intelligent, ruthless villain with a million and one plan suddenly suffers a mental meltdown.
I could have taken Flamingo out without him knowing I was there before he could take out the detonator. I could have killed him in so many ways before he could even try to press the button, and if I could do it, why can't heroes more powerful than me do the same?
Because it would be fucking boring, that's why! No one would want to read anything about some god who can solve all his problems in the blink of an eye, even if he's capable of doing just that.
No one relates to a perfect, self-righteous prick of an invincible god, who can bulldoze through all opposition. That's why Hercules is part of almost everyone's childhood and why no one gives two shits about Gilgamesh.
One is a childhood hero, and the other is an edge lord that only, weebs, mythology geeks, and people from fucking Iraq would know about, convinced yet?
"You can come out. I know you're there," I exclaimed, sighing as I turned to a dark corner of the empty construction site and received a chuckle as Nightwing emerged from the shadow.
"Was all of that necessary? Kind of felt like a personal attack..." Nightwing said, his tone amused as he slowly approached me, his gaze alternating between me and the unconscious mercenary.
"If the shoe fits, take it for a run..." I replied as I turned to face Bludhaven's protector and Batman's former sidekick. "Don't you have more important things to do?" I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest as Nightwing stopped before me.
"Matter of fact, I do; cleaning the streets that are crawling with mercenaries and thugs out for your blood," Nightwing asked, raising an eyebrow as he copied me and crossed his arms.
"And you're doing a pretty shit job by the looks of things," I replied with a snort as I took out the pink stack of dynamite from my inventory, shoving it into Nightwing's chest before I turned to leave.
Huh, so it did come in handy after all.
"You know, for someone who's only been a crime fighter for barely a month, you're surprisingly good at it," Nightwing said as he quickly caught up with me, seemingly unoffended by my remark.
"It's not that I'm good at it. The bar is just so low with you people that what I did looks impressive," I replied with a shrug as I kept walking without bothering to turn to Nightwing.
"You people?" Nightwing asked, raising an eyebrow and halting his steps as he stared at me while I kept walking away with a hard-to-read expression.
"Heroes, vigilantes, capes, masochists, self-righteous pricks, whatever you call yourselves," I replied with no intention of continuing the conversation, activating my phantom belt and disappearing before Nightwing could say or do anything.
...
Gotham City Park
"You worry too much, Richard," Benjamin said with a smile as he leaned on a tree, watching his old friend pace in circles, seemingly anxious about something.
The martial arts teacher had been in a constant state of worry for the past three days since he learned about the price on his student's head and the ever-increasing number of mercenaries flooding Gotham to claim it.
"You know what the kid can do..." Ben added after seeing that his words did not affect Richard. "Heck, the only reason he hasn't kicked your ass in a spar yet is that he's always holding back unconsciously," he added, stroking his bald head as he heaved a sigh.
"You know as well as I do what those shit-eating mercenaries are capable of, old friend," Richard said with a heavy sigh as he stopped pacing and turned to his friend, giving him a bitter look.
"You and I took down our fare of share of motherfuckers we had no business beating," he added, shaking his head with a grim expression that was clearly unconvinced.
"Don't compare the kid to those brainless brutes. You trained him yourself; you know better," Benjamin replied with a grin as he stood up and approached Richard.
"Besides, you said it yourself the kid has an impeccable survival instinct. He'll be fine. You need to trust him," Benjamin added as he patted his old friend's shoulder, causing the latter to sigh.
Richard looked like he had a retort, but the ringing from his pocket caused him to swallow his words as he fished it out, already knowing who was calling as he only had the numbers of two people, and one of them was standing before him.
"Gray... Are you alright?" Richard said as he picked up the call and put the phone to his ear. "Where have you been...? What? You just found out...?" he remarked, sighing and rubbing his forehead in frustration.
"What are you going to do about it?" Richard inquired after several seconds of silently listening to what his student was up to in the past few days.
"Smart. Take care of the disease, and the symptoms will dissipate on their own..." Richard remarked, nodding in approval as he heard Gray's plan. "I don't need to tell you that some people will think ahead..." he cautioned, his tone turning firm.
"What do you mean, that's not all? That's— are you sure?" Richard said, his expression slowly changing to show surprise. "Who are you, and what have you done to my student...?" he jokingly asked, bitterly smiling, much to Benjamin's confusion.
"Fine, do what you think is best. I'll see you later, then," Richard concluded as he ended the call and turned to Ben with a hard-to-read expression on his face.
...
Gotham's East End
"There you are, you a piece of shit..." I muttered as I opened my eyes, having found Black Mask's exact location with my personal computer power and a bit of hacking.
If this were a movie, then this is the part where you'd see a montage showing me viciously beating up one or multiple thugs in one or numerous settings while asking them where is Black Mask in a hoarse, gravelly voice.
Though that would be fun, it would also be terribly inefficient and a pain in the ass. Why would you go around beating thugs when you can just hax your way into what you want much more quickly?
But you might be wondering what I'll do now that I have Black Mask's whereabouts, and the answer is quite simple, really.
I'll fuck him up since this whole mess started with him, then I'll take him somewhere very special to make sure nothing like this ever happens again.
Now that I think about it, the plan might not be so simple.
Black Mask was the one who put a price on my head, but sending him to prison or even killing him might not necessarily solve the problem because if Black Mask can put a bounty on my head, then what's to stop other people?
The answer is nothing. Nothing is stopping anyone from putting a bounty on my head.
But will anyone be willing to take the bounty on my head once I finish what I have in mind?
I guess you'll just have to wait and see.
...
As he sat on his knees, tending to his arrows, Arthur King, The Dark Archer's breathing was relaxed and smooth as he gazed into the monitor before him, showing the five-story building across the street.
Arthur King, also known as Merlin, was a deadly bow-wielding assassin and contract killer, though he wasn't doing much of that lately because of his never-ending rivalry with the Green Arrow.
Though the emerald might not describe it as a rivalry, more of a lifelong enmity, Merlin didn't care. The Dark Archer saw his relationship with Green Arrow as nothing but a mere rivalry, as he used it to sharpen his skills.
However, Green Arrow wasn't cutting it anymore for Merlin. The Dark Archer had proved time and time again that he was superior to his emerald counterpart in every possible way that mattered.
Merlin was the better marksman, the better martial artist, and the better killer. Green Arrow was no longer a challenge, so he left Star city to look for one.
And what better place than Gotham city, the caped crusader's home, to find a challenge that Merlin can use to better himself? What better man than Batman to act as the grinding stone for Merlin to evolve his skills?
Still, the caped crusader was a hard man to find, so he'd settle for someone less, for now, to keep his instincts and skills sharp until the chance to fight Batman arrives.
The Dark Archer decided to join the hunt for the vigilante known as Wraith, but Merlin was no head-strong brute like the rest of the mercenaries prowling the streets.
He was a true hunter and refused to act like the common rabble. Thus, he came up with a simple plan, so simple, in fact, Merlins was surprised not many thought of it.
There was bait for every prey, and Black Mask was the ultimate bait for Merlin's current target. The Dark Archer would need to do nothing but stay near the gang boss and wait for the Wraith to show up.
Merlin wasn't the only one to think of such a simple plan as he noticed two other people lurking near Black Mask's hideout, but he wasn't worried about them.
If it came to it, he would merely neutralize the two mercenaries if they got in his way, and that will be the end of that.
Now, Merlin only had to play the waiting game, and he was nothing if not patient.
...
"Merlin, Lady Vic, and Deadshot..." I mused as I stuffed mouthfuls worth of chocolate cake into my maw and began chewing while formulating a plan of action.
'If I take them out first, I might alert Black Mask...' I mused as I shoved the last bits of the cake into my mouth, my gaze alternating between Black Mask's hideout and the surrounding buildings where the three mercenaries lay waiting.
If that happens, then it would only be a matter of time before every mercenary and thug in the city shows up here to claim the bounty on my head.
'And if I go for Black Mask first... they'll probably get in my way...' I sighed, scratching my head as I hesitated. I had a way to deal with the three mercenaries without causing a scene, but it would put a wedge in my plans.
'I don't want to take them there too early... but I guess there's no other way,' I shrugged as I stood up, activating my phantom belt and jumping off the roof to swing my way toward Black Mask's office.
...
Black Mask couldn't help but frown as he sat on his expensive mahogany desk, slowly and methodically tapping at his chair's armrest, unable to get rid of the bad feeling gnawing at the back of his mind.
Everything was his way for a few days now. Batman was away on League business, and that annoying new vigilante who kept getting in his way was nowhere to be seen, likely hiding in some hole while cowering in fear.
The ungodly number of mercenaries who entered the city to claim the price of Wraith's head would be enough to make anyone sweat. Their presence caused chaos, to which Black Mask capitalized, taking out several rival gangs without anyone's notice.
No one dared challenge him in Gotham other than Batman's sidekicks, but they were too busy dealing with the contract killers and thugs flooding the streets, leaving him to do as he pleased.
Yet, Black Mask, Roman Sionis, couldn't help but have a bad feeling, as if everything would suddenly collapse and come crashing down on him, crushing him into paste.
He moved out of his main office room into a more fortified one with bulletproof windows and had his best men guarding the building and patrolling the area, but the dreadful feeling wouldn't go away no matter what.
And sure enough, Black Mask almost choked on his own saliva when he heard a thud and turned to the window, seeing Wraith materialize out of thin air, staring into his eyes through the red glowing lenses on his helmet.
Through surprised, Black Mask quickly gathered his bearings and pushed a red button under his desk. He even let out a smug grin, trusting the safety of his office.
As long as Wraith was on the other side of the bulletproof windows, there was nothing he could do to Black Mask, or so he thought, but the reality was far from it.
Black Mask's ever-present grin, carved into his face as it was, wavered as Wraith cocked his fist back, and the gangster's eyes widened when he saw it shine with a golden hue.
The vigilante brought his glowing fist upon the bulletproof window, and it immediately shattered into countless tiny pieces, some of which flew right into his disfigured face, causing him to scream in agony.
The office door opened, and several armed men came in, immediately opening fire on the Wraith, but the latter didn't move a muscle or flinch as the bullets bounced off his body.
The vigilante calmly took out a gun from his coat and slowly fired one bullet after the other, and Black Mask's subordinate fell every time he pulled the trigger.
Black Mask didn't know if his men were dead or unconscious, and he didn't particularly care as the fifth and last of them fell, giving him the urge to go and kick them while they were down for their incompetence.
Regardless of his urge, he didn't get the chance to do anything as the vigilante began approaching him.
Being the cliched villain that he was, Black Mask turned to Wraith to spew threats and remind the vigilante of who he was messing with, but the latter didn't seem to be in the mood to listen.
Wraith raised his fist and buried it in Black Mask's nose, instantly breaking it and rendering the gang boss unconscious as the vigilante picked him up and threw him on his shoulder before moving back to the window.
...
"Now that's one ugly sack of potatoes..." I remarked, shaking my head with a chuckle as I picked up Black Mask, put him on my shoulder, and walked back to the window.
I peered through the opened window and noticed a man in a tight black body suit standing on the rooftop of the opposite building. The man had a blank expression as he knocked an arrow into the bow in his hands.
The man's expression didn't change as he drew the bow's string to its limits and let loose. I raised an eyebrow at how fast the arrow flew and moved my head to the side at the last possible second, causing it to fly past me.
The arrow hit a wall behind and exploded loudly, and I merely raised my hand, giving the archer my middle finger before using my steel wire to swing away, to which he frowned and quickly began chasing after me.
I noticed another man in a black and red suit aiming at me with a sniper rifle and stored the steel wire in my inventory, throwing Black Mask ahead of me as I somersaulted in the air to dodge the shot.
The bullet flew right above my shoulder, and I didn't forget to give the man the middle finger as well before I dived behind Black Mask to pick him up before he fell to the ground and turned into a pancake.
I caught up with the gang boss and picked him up, merely three meters away from hitting the ground. Then I retrieved my steel wire and swung away from the sharpshooter's line of sight.
...
'Still, on my ass I see... but will you follow me here too...?' I mused, grinning as I landed in front of an empty theatre house, pausing for a second to check my pigeon drone's video feed.
Merlyn was hot on my tail, jumping from roof to roof, while Deadshot was chasing behind me on a motorcycle, and there was no sign of Lady Vic anywhere.
I waited for the two contract killers to arrive before I entered the theatre house without giving them the chance to take a shot at me.
'Smart...' I smiled as I made my way inside the theatre hall. The two mercenaries were cautious enough to wait outside and not follow me blindly.
I'd chosen this spot to conclude the shit storm that was the bounty on my head, and I'd already filled the theatre house with sentry guns and traps, ready to shoot down anyone dumb enough to inter.
The assassins and thugs flooding Gotham's street were here for one thing and one thing alone; the price on my head. For them to claim their prize, they'd need two things: my head, of course, and Black Mask, who would give them the payment.
And now that both those things were in one place, they'd have no choice but to come here to claim it, where I can gun them all down before they can even say what the fuck?!
My plan was simple. Get everyone after my head in one place and beat the living crap out of them with my sentry guns. That way, even if someone puts a bounty on my head, people would think twice before coming for me to claim it.
I wasn't cocky enough to assume my sentry guns would work on everyone, but all assassins I've identified so far were regular baseline humans. And even if a superhuman showed up, I was confident in my ability to beat them down or flee if it came to that.
There were still people like Deathstroke, who I'd rather not mess with no matter how strong I get, and I made sure that none of such people were in the city before I started preparing my plan.
"Now, how about a smile for the camera?" I asked with a chuckle as I turned to Black Mask, already tied to a chair on the stage and still unconscious.
...
Nightwing heaved in exhaustion as he beat the umpteenth thug for the day, aware that he was only removing a drop from an ocean of bloodthirsty contract killers prowling Gotham's streets for a payday.
"There's just no end to the bastards..." Nightwing muttered between labored breaths as he leaned on the wall behind him and slid down to sit on the ground.
With Batman obsessively burying his head in whatever secret project he's been cooking up for a while now, Nightwing, Robin, and Batgirl were left to handle the mess on their own.
However, they were helpless against the endless tide of criminals as two more would show up for everyone they beat. They were the best of the best, handpicked and trained by the caped crusader himself, but they were only humans.
Though their wills were tougher than steel and indomitable, their bodies were still those of mortals, limited by their humanity.
Nightwing's expression turned depressed as gunshots and screams echoed in the distance, reminding him that he wasn't done just yet for the day. There were still people in danger and criminals roaming the streets.
'Looks like we're gonna need some backup...' Nightwing sighed as he took out a communication device from his pocket, preparing to call some old friends for help.
He didn't already call for help because Batman hated anyone unaffiliated with him interfering in Gotham. The city had a delicate balance, and a single wrong move might mean all-out war.
Nightwing agreed with Batman, but the ungodly number of mercenaries and criminals in the streets would demolish the city sooner rather than later if they weren't stopped.
He sighed and prepared to call for backup. However, he stopped as he saw the tv screens on display on the electronics store's facade before him, showing videos of fish swimming underwater turn static.
The static disappeared, and a recording of a dark theatre stage appeared to replace it. Nothing happened for another second, and suddenly, a spotlight shined over the center of the stage, revealing the seemingly unconscious Black Mask, tied up on a chair.
Another spotlight shined next to Black Mask, revealing none other than Wraith, standing beside the gang boss with a relaxed posture.
"Greetings, scum of the earth. Many of you have come a long way to claim the bounty this piece of shit put on my head..." the vigilante blankly said as he moved two steps to the side towards Black Mask, the spotlight shadowing him.
"Unfortunately for you all, I have captured Black Mask and will soon hand him over to the authorities," Wraith said as he put a hand on the unconscious gangster's head, causing Nightwing to sigh in relief.
The contract killers would have no reason to stay in the city if Wraith hands over Black Mask to the authorities, as the latter wouldn't be able to pay the bounty.
"But don't fret, your trip to Gotham was not in vain. I'm willing to give you all a chance to get what you came for," the vigilante added as he stepped forward to stand between the camera and black mask.
"What kind of asshole would I be if I didn't give you that much after all the trouble you went trying to get here?" Wraith added, spreading his arms as the spotlight over Black Mask turned off, leaving only the vigilante himself visible on the stage.
"I will be staying at the abandoned theatre house in the diamond district, and I will be there for the next four hours before taking Black Mask to the authorities," the vigilante remarked, relaxing his arms and bringing them back to his sides.
"Your prize awaits you, and who knows? Black Mask might even be grateful enough to his knight in shining armor to throw you all a bonus..." Wraith said, his tone clearly amused as he chuckled at the end of his sentence.
"The only question is... do you have the guts to come and claim it?" Wraith concluded as he stopped laughing, and the spotlight over him died out, indicating the end of the broadcast.
"Well... shit..." Nightwing remarked with a sigh, scratching his head in frustration as he retrieved the communicator he'd just put away, thinking the situation was about to resolve itself.
"It would be easier to deal with this way, at least..." he muttered, shaking his head as he began fiddling with the communicator, putting it to his ear after a moment.
"Hello, Kara. I need your help..."
...
"A bit theatrical, don't you think?" Selina asked as she approached me on the stage while I was doing a last-minute checkup on my prepared sentry boxes and equipment.
"Well, this is a theatre..." I replied, chuckling as I raised my head to look the leather-clad brunette in her eyes. "But what are you doing here?" I skeptically asked, tilting my head.
"Am I not welcome here?" Selina asked with a sly grin as she stopped before me, provocatively stretching her arms to emphasize the fine lines of her body under the black leather.
"Not one bit," I blankly replied as I turned away from the brunette and resumed working. "I said I could handle this on my own, and you being here might give some people the wrong idea," I added, dismissively waving my hand to the side.
"Oh, and what idea is that?" Selina asked, her tone amused as she raised an eyebrow. However, she understood I was in no mood to humor her and dropped the provocative posture.
"That we're friends, that they can get to me through you," I replied, scoffing as I shrugged my shoulder. "I'm sure you understand," I added as I briefly looked up at her and buried my head back in my work.
"Awe, and here I thought we were getting along after the cemetery incident," Selina said with a grin. "But is that concern I detect in your tone?" she asked as she sat in front of me.
"You can take my words however you like," I blankly replied without bothering to look at Selina this time. "You and I get along well enough, but not enough for me to risk my life for you," I concluded as I finished checking the motion sensors I set up on the stage.
"Well, no need to worry. I made sure no one saw me sneak in, and I'm only here for the show..." Selina replied with a smile.
"This is a theatre, after all, and I figured you'd need an audience."
...
Floating above the abandoned, shabby theatre with his jet back, Firefly couldn't help but feel conflicted at the sight of so many people racing to get into one cramped area.
Under different circumstances, he'd torch the place once everyone was inside, get a good chuckle out of their screams, and move on with his life, business as usual.
However, the pyromaniac had found himself in need of money after regaining his freedom and escaping imprisonment for the umpteenth time this year to fix his damaged suit.
"They'll be fair game once I get Black Mask out of there..." Firefly muttered under his breath with a grin that quickly turned into a frown when he saw someone sneaking around on a nearby rooftop.
"Fucking pussies..." the pyromaniac remarked, shaking his head as he scoffed and turned away, reminded of several contract killers waiting for their chances like opportunistic cowards.
There they were, lurking in the shadows around the theatre, watching as the little thugs and goons were an inch away from tearing each other's throats to get into the building first.
Firefly was by no means an idiot. He understood the logic behind their wait-and-see attitude, but the target was only one man, one regular old human, slightly more capable than most.
With the number of thugs present, it wasn't a matter of if they'll succeed, but when and who would claim the prize, even if Firefly and the other infamous criminals just stood there and watched.
Either way, it was a good thing for the pyromaniac since he'll be able to get to the bounty target with no real competition. He'd merely have to wait until the small-time thugs exhausted the target and forced him to reveal his cards before making a move.
"Wraith, was it? I wonder how your flesh will smell when I burn you to death..." Firefly muttered, letting out a slight cackle as he landed on the ground and walked towards the theatre when he saw someone get inside already.
The thugs all opened the way for him, and he didn't pay them any attention as he strode forward as if their response to his presence was the most natural thing in the world.
Despite being a bit late, the pyromaniac was still among the first to enter the building, and he went straight for the theatre hall. It was dark and empty, with no sign of anyone present other than the thugs who'd gotten there first.
"Now, let's what you got in store..." Firefly said to no one in particular as he leaned on the wall next to the theatre hall's entrance, watching as more and more people showed up, filling the place.
The thugs then scrutinized every inch of the building and continued doing so for several minutes but found no trace of Black Mask or Wraith himself in the area.
'Maybe he wasn't so stupid after all...' Firefly mused to himself, feeling an equal measure of both being impressed and disappointed. He was disappointed because he won't be able to claim his prize and impressed by what he assumed was an elaborate scheme to distract everyone.
It was a brilliant plan. Wraith had gathered every thug and assassin after him in one place, and now he was free to take Black Mask to the authorities or do whatever he planned without hindrance.
There were also two other possibilities. The first was that Wraith had rigged the place with explosives, and he was probably nearby with a trigger, ready to blow everyone to kingdom come.
"Nah... vigilantes like him wouldn't have the guts..." Firefly muttered with a chuckle, shaking his head with a scoff at the ridiculous idea.
The second possibility was an ambush, and the heroes were on their way to capture everyone and throw them into Black Gate, Arkham, or whatever the American judicial system decided would be the best place for them to spend a brief vacation behind bars.
However, the only man capable of something like this, Batman, was currently fighting off some alien invasion or another with the justice league on the other side of the earth since no one had seen him in Gotham for a while now.
And Batman's sidekicks, the only heroes allowed to operate in the city by the caped crusader himself, were already burnt out after several days of non-stop fighting to clean the streets.
"Too bad... but since I'm already here..." Firefly faintly said as he put a hand on his flame thrower, his eyes turning to the gathered thugs inside the theatre hall.
A maniacal grin split his face under the mask, and he slowly reached from his jet back with his other hand to activate it and start burning everything that moved and didn't.
However, he stopped as a loud click reverberated across the theatre hall. Firefly turned to investigate the noise and saw a spotlight shining over the center of the stage.
All thugs copied the pyromaniac's actions and turned to the stage, which remained empty, causing them to murmur among each other, only to go quiet, their eyes widening as a person wearing a gas mask helmet materialized in the middle of the spotlight.
"It seems I've kept you all waiting..." the person who'd just materialized, Wraith leisurely said, putting his hands behind his back as he walked to the edge of the stage.
"A word of warning first... I don't want to shed blood today, but with your numbers..." Wraith said, suddenly stopping as one of the thugs took a gun and shot him in the head, causing his head to jerk back.
"Things might get out of hand..." the vigilante added as loud heavy metal music began playing in the background (Author's note: insert doom music). There was no small amount of amusement in his voice as he adjusted his head, letting the distorted bullet fall to the ground.
More thugs reached for their weapons as the music intensified. However, they all began collapsing one after the other before they could even aim, some bleeding, some clutching their heads, while Wraith merely stood there with the same leisure posture.
Firefly watched this scene and froze, finally realizing that he might have bitten more than he could chew as the over hundred thugs in the theatre hall began falling by the dozen with each passing second.
Confused, he looked around, trying to figure out what was causing the thugs to fall, and spotted a strange, ugly-looking cubic contraption in the corner of the theatre hall, one of many, the fire lover correctly presumed.
The contraption had something akin to a gun barrel sticking out of it, rapidly moving as it fired with no muzzle flashes and barely a sound as the music covered most of it.
The pyromaniac began weighing his options and concluded that his best option was to retreat, but he froze as he noticed the vigilante was staring directly at him.
And it was at this moment that Garfield Lynn, also known as Firefly, the pyromaniac psychopath who'd been terrorizing Gotham for years, knew there was no escape.
He could only fight his way out or wait for the vigilante to get bored with the staring contest and do something about him, which didn't seem very appealing to the pyromaniac, so he decided on the former option.
"Fuck with the Firefly, and you BURN!" Firefly exclaimed as he took to the air and charged at the stage, having already decided to fight it out instead of sitting on his ass and watching the thugs fall like dominos.
Hearing the pyromaniac's words, Wraith, who was still intently watching him, didn't react and maintained his leisure posture as the Firefly flew towards him while hurling flames in all directions.
Firefly didn't care about the vigilante's unfazed appearance and lack of reaction, as he wasn't looking for one. He wasn't on one of his usual jet back joyrides to have fun at the expense of Gotham's unsuspecting citizens.
He was now fighting for his freedom, possibly his life.
"Burn, bitch!" Firefly shouted as he approached the edge of the stage, aiming his flamethrower at Wraith after setting to max output, resulting in a wave of flames that could eat the entirety of the stand.
However, before the flames could reach the vigilante, Firefly felt several impacts on his back and immediately lost balance as several bullets tore through his suit's wings, causing him to crash to the ground.
And to make things worst, one bullet even managed to pierce his jet back, causing the special fuel inside to leak out onto his back and immediately catch flame.
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