Quickly detaching the jet-back and throwing it away, Firefly began rolling on the ground to extinguish the fire before it killed him, but he was suffering from his own competence.
His flame thrower and jet-back used a unique type of fuel Firefly created himself that would be very hard to extinguish and would even burn fireproof suits like the one he wore.
However, the pyromaniac didn't have to suffer for long before Wraith came over and put off the flame with a fire extinguisher, much to the former's confusion.
Firefly looked around and saw that most thugs were already down, except for almost a dozen mobsters who were surrendering, running, or still fighting and would soon fall like their fellows.
He tried to get up, but Wraith immediately kicked him in the head, forcing him to his back again before taking out a pistol and leveling it on his head, as if challenging Firefly to try that again.
"Let's hear it then..." Firefly said with a chuckle as he remained motionless on the ground, having understood the hint, and the only answer he received was silence from the vigilante.
"Well? You got a grudge, don't you? Spill it..." the pyromaniac added in case Wraith didn't understand his meaning. "Go on, it's not like I have anything better to do," he concluded with a chuckle, shrugging his shoulder.
"Grudge? No, it's not that simple..." Wraith replied in a clearly altered voice he probably used to protect his identity. His tone was blank, but Firefly could detect anger within it.
"I spent a lot of time thinking how I'd kill you, make you suffer, like they suffered," Wraith added, keeping the same tone, but the slight anger Firefly had detected was now gone.
"Oh? And what did I ever do to deserve such a special place in the heart of a big bad vigilante like you?" Firefly asked, unable to hide the amusement in his voice as he grinned under the mask.
"Doesn't matter. Looking at you now, I'm already over it..." Wraith said, shaking his head. "Your fucking worthless, less than pathetic. Not even worth the pity..." the vigilante said as he slowly turned around and walked away.
Hearing those words, Firefly gritted his teeth and reached for a gun one thug had dropped near him and picked it up. He got off the ground, raised the gun, aimed, and immediately fell back to the ground as one of the sentry guns put a non-lethal bullet between his eyes.
...
'I'll make sure this piece of shit never sees sunlight again...' I mused as I inspected the area and saw no one standing other than myself in the theatre hall.
After my first encounter with Firefly, I'd always see the burning people's faces whenever I closed my eyes and hear them screaming for help whenever I was somewhere quiet for almost two weeks.
And I would have nightmares where all those burning people I'd left to die would suddenly appear and drag me down to burn with them or some with other different but equally terrifying scenarios.
The nightmares were all different, and the only constant was the disfigured face of the guy who tackled me to the ground to ask for my help. He was always the first to appear.
Now that I think about it, that person might have been a woman; I couldn't tell since their face looked like a half-wheel of melted cheese, but you get the idea.
And oh, my god, I'm making jokes about that now; bad Gray, no joking about that kind of shit.
I've always blamed the entire situation on Firefly and hated him with a passion for the suffering I'd been through because of his psychopathic actions, but in the end, it was my decision to flee and leave these people to their fates.
Would I have died if I stayed, or would I have saved some people? Would my presence have changed anything? Maybe, maybe not, I don't know. But I know I'll be asking myself that question for a long time.
So yeah, I couldn't really give a fuck about Firefly anymore, though I intend to put him back in Arkham or whatever shit hole the judicial system would put him in as soon as he gets out.
'Too bad that Andre fellow ended up in Black Gate... they would have made good friends otherwise...' I shook my head with a smile as I began inspecting the downed thugs for any mortalities.
The ones that surrendered saw that I wasn't giving them any attention and took the chance to leave. I didn't stop them since they wouldn't make it far anyway since I could already hear police sirens.
'No deaths... but over twenty severe injuries... I can live with that...' I nodded in satisfaction as I checked on the last thugs after spending ten minutes doing the same to everyone else.
Even if some of them died, it wouldn't have bothered or caused problems for me either way. But I don't want to be that guy who brings death everywhere he goes.
I was defending myself, and there was nothing anyone could do to twist that and use it against me, even if there were deaths among the thugs, even if I was the one who brought them here.
Reckless endangerment of other people's lives? Nope, the theatre and the surrounding area were empty, with no civilians nearby. Trespassing? Another nope, I fucking bought the theatre yesterday.
Illegal ownership of unregulated firearms? You guessed it, nope. It's perfectly legal to own and use (for self-defense) firearms you've created yourself, and I built every one of the sentry guns here myself.
In other words, I was merely defending myself and my property in a perfectly lawful way and was beyond any blame or legal questioning and consequence.
I only wish Batman would show up to question me so I could rub it in his nose, but last I heard, he was on the other side of the planet, doing gods know what with the league.
'I wonder what he'll do now that he knows about his mind-wiping-happy-go buddies...?' I wondered but shook my head and dropped the subject after a moment of thought.
He'd probably do the same thing he did in the comics and start a shit storm that would begin the Justice League's redemption arc where Superman would pull a Superman and bring them all together moments before disaster.
They'd then make up, defeat the villain, and everything would go back to normal despite many people dying because of Batman's and the other heroes' fuck-up.
God, I fucking hate all superhero comics.
'Now that the small fries are taken care of...' I mused as I turned my attention to my pigeon drone flying around the theatre and immediately noticed the police cars gathering the thugs who managed to leave.
I had the pigeon drone fly around to inspect the surrounding buildings to find Deadshot and the other big-name assassins lurking about in the shadows but was surprised to find no trace of them.
'Did the police scare them off...? That makes little sense...' I frowned, tilting my head in thought. These people were as relentless as mold on a shower curtain and wouldn't back off because of some silly GCPD cops.
'Shame... taking care of them now with the rest of the thugs would have sent a stronger message, but... oh well...' I shrugged, sighing as I began walking to the stage to retrieve the still-unconscious Black Mask from beneath it.
However, I only took two steps before halting and taking out my gun as a loud thud came from above. I raised my head to see what was going on, and my surprise grew when I saw a hole in the wall with a blonde woman gently floating down through it.
She was 5.5 tall with bright, light blue eyes and shoulder-long radiant blonde hair. She wore a short blue skirt and a red cape that fluttered in the air.
I had to thank my lucky stars that I wasn't directly beneath her because that would have been awkward as shit and not the first impression I wanted to leave.
She also had a tight blue, full-sleeved, tight blue shirt with the iconic red S on the center of the chest area. It covered only the upper portion of her torso, leaving her thin waistline and tone stomach on full display.
However, it wasn't the girl's skimpy outfit or her presence that surprised me the most; it was the fact she was carrying Deadshot and Merlin in her left and right as she floated to the ground.
"Looks like I'm late..." the girl said as she landed and looked around, seeing nothing but unconscious mobsters lying on the ground.
"Looks like Nightwing was wrong for once..."
...
"Nightwing sent you here?" I asked, looking the blonde girl up and down as she landed, dropped the two mercenaries in her hands to the ground, and turned to me.
"That's right. Nightwing thought you might need some help..." The girl replied, radiantly smiling at me as she looked around and saw none of the thugs still standing.
"I'm Super Girl, by the way," she said, introducing herself as she approached me while reaching a hand forward, asking for a handshake with the same smile tugging her lips.
"Then I'll have to add his name when I'm suing for property damage..." I blankly replied as I walked past Super Girl without bothering to shake her hand, much to her surprise and confusion.
"Property damage...?" Super Girl asked, tilting her head and slowly blinking her eyes as she turned her body when I walked past her, sounding incredibly confused.
"You see, this here theatre is my property, and you just broke my roof with your superhero entrance, lady," I said with a scoff as I went to work and started storing the sentry guns and sensors into my inventory.
"What? Did you think roofs magically fix themselves in Gotham or something? Roofs don't grow on trees, neither does the money to fix a broken one," I bemusedly asked as I briefly turned to the stunned Super Girl, and she was still speechless.
"I'm sorry...?" Super Girl replied, her tone more quizzical than anything else as she didn't seem sure of herself anymore while standing in her spot, seemingly at a loss at what to do.
'Is she for real...?' I raised an eyebrow, barely holding back a chuckle as I saw the Kryptonian girl's expression. I didn't really care about the roof or the theatre as a whole and was merely acting anti-social since I didn't want to involve myself with anything and anyone who could kick my teeth in on a whim.
"Well, sorry ain't gon' cut it," I said, unable to resist the urge to tease with a shake of my head. "I'll also be suing for emotional damage," I added, clearing my throat to hide the fact I almost chuckled at Super Girl's increasingly mortified expression.
"I originally intended to retire and follow my dream of running a theatre, but you've gone and ruined my dream..." I added, slowly shaking my head, as I stored the last sentry gun in my inventory.
"But— but I was just trying to help..." Super Girl said, sounding deeply indignant as she gathered her bearings and approached me to get into my face with an exasperated expression.
"Look around. Does it looks like I need help?" I asked with an amused smile under my mask as I gestured at the theatre hall full of unconscious thugs all over the ground.
"But— But—" Super Girl stuttered, her face turning red in a blend of anger and embarrassment, but she couldn't form any intelligent sentences and just glared at me instead.
Luckily for her, rescue came just in time.
"Stop teasing the poor girl," Nightwing said as he entered the theatre hall through the same hole Super Girl created earlier. "She was just trying to help," he added with a smile as he nodded at the Kryptonian and turned to me.
"What is it with you people and not using doors?" I asked with a sigh, shaking my head as I turned and walked to the stage, having had enough of teasing the blonde Kryptonian.
"They were invented for a goddamned reason. Even those thugs had the decency to use the door..." I kept muttering as I punched a hole in the stage and jumped down to retrieve Black Mask, who had regained consciousness at some point.
"Now listen here, you—" Black Mask exclaimed through gritted teeth as soon as he laid eyes on me, and I just shut him up with a punch to the jaw, rattling his brain and knocking him out.
I picked him up, slung him over my shoulder, and jumped back into the stage. The two superheroes looked at this scene and gave me weird looks, causing me to frown.
"What?" I asked, my frown growing more pronounced as the two heroes shared a look and turned back to me, their eyes alternating between my face and the gang boss on my shoulder.
"You really kept him here? All this time?" Nightwing asked with a hard-to-read expression as he scratched his head, seemingly profoundly perplexed by my actions.
"I did. What of it?" I asked, feeling the urge to flip Night and Super Girl off as they shared another look and turned back to me with even weirder and harder-to-read expressions.
"Well, what if someone figured it out and freed him while you were busy fighting?" Super Girl asked, tilting her head. I would have thought they were trying to troll me if her expression wasn't so genuinely confused.
"Well, there is no fucking kindergarten where I can put away my gang boss while I'm busy working, is there?" I asked in an irritated tone, my eyes twitching under my mask, to which the two heroes shrugged and dropped the subject.
"Fucking superheroes breaking my roof and asking me dumb-ass questions..." I muttered to myself as I resumed walking to the exit, intending to take the door like a civilized human being.
However, I only walked halfway through the theatre hall before my phone started ringing, causing me to stop and sigh as I dropped Black Mask and answered the call after seeing who was ringing me.
"Detective Tiegel..." I greeted as I put the phone to my ears, trailing off as I waited for the detective to start talking. "No, I'm fine. Just finishing off. Do you need something from me?" I asked with a shrug.
"Oh? You're back in the force, and they're discussing a promotion, you say?" I remarked, raising an eyebrow as I turned to the unconscious Black Mask lying on the floor next to me.
"That's good. I have just the thing to seal the deal and get you the promotion you deserve..." I said, smiling as I kneeled next to the gang boss and picked him up.
"Meet me in the same spot, right now. Bring a pair of cuffs and a taser while you're at it," I concluded as I ended the call, slung Black Mask over my shoulder, and proceeded to walk away under the confused gazes of the two heroes.
"By the way, keep an eye on these guys..." I said as I stopped at the theatre hall's exit and turned to Nightwing. "Catwoman is around here somewhere. She's probably dying to empty their pockets..." I added with a chuckle before leaving.
...
East End
As she stood in front of the quaint bookshop at the corner of the street, Deborah couldn't help but look at her watch to check the time while she waited for Wraith.
The crazy son of a bitch actually managed to get her job in the force back just as he promised, and now there were discussions about kicking her captain off the precinct and putting her in his place.
Though she didn't know how Wraith did it, she was extremely grateful. What was notably satisfying to her was those stuck-up internal affairs officers who wouldn't give her their time of the day before and dismissed her even though she had evidence to clear her name, calling her and apologizing.
Some of them even seemed disturbingly desperate to patch things up with her for some reason, and she was wise enough not to question it as she knew something was afoot, and it was likely Wraith's doing.
As a cop, Deborah was as straight as an arrow, but even she was no longer the same naïve sparkly eyed girl she was when she first joined the police force of Gotham City.
She understood that playing by the book in a city like Gotham could only get you so far, with crooked colleagues and superior officers waiting at every turn and corner to bring you down to their level or destroy you.
The detective couldn't blame Wraith for what he'd done, whatever it was. She'd only have to make it worth it by being the best damned cop this has ever seen to make up for it.
And even though she wasn't really interested in a promotion all that much, she came out of respect for the vigilante as he didn't even give her the chance to say no before he hung up.
"I wonder if he's gonna be late...?" Deborah said, sighing tiredly after checking the time as she messaged her sore neck, and as of on cue, Wraith jumped off the rooftop she stood beneath and landed before her with a man over his shoulder.
"Is that...?" Deborah asked as she looked at the man over the vigilante's shoulder. She had a guess about his identity, but she wasn't sure as he had a black bag covering his face.
"Detective Deborah... meet Gotham's most pretentious of assholes..."
...
Gray's hideout
'Things could have gone better...' I mused, sighing as I removed my equipment and slumped onto my comfortable couch, recalling the day's events.
I was hoping to get a bunch of big-name mercenaries in the theatre to send a clear message for anyone who might get the bright idea to fuck with me, but I ended up with Firefly and a crowd of nobodies.
I considered killing a bunch of people to further discourage anyone from coming after me since I was in a controlled environment and made it look like self-defense, which it was, but in the end, it wasn't worth it.
Killing for convenience is one slippery slope I don't intend to tread. I had issues, and that kind of shit wouldn't help my mental health either, even if it would spare me future headaches and probably save countless lives.
I wasn't ready to sacrifice my mental well-being for the sake of complete strangers. Hell no, I wasn't selfless like that. Make no mistake, I have every intention of making this world a better place as it's my home now, whether I liked it or not.
However, there were other ways to do it. I'm not Batman or Superman. I didn't need to go around beating up people to make a difference, save lives, and do good thanks to my system and current archetype classes.
In any case, There was still no sign of Lady Vic, but she's a nobody compared to Deadshot and Merlin. Fucking Super Girl took care of the latter two, so one measly Lady Vic wouldn't change anything even if I go looking for her now.
Still, taking out over a hundred armed thugs was very impressive too, and it should make most people think twice before coming after me to save themselves the embarrassment since most mercenaries cherished their reputation over anything else.
Plus, I even got Deborah her job back, and she might get promoted to captain, which would make life a lot easier since I'd have a friendly police officer I could rely on if the need arose.
Other than that, I'll only need to keep an eye on Deborah to see if she'll end up with the Hitman despite my efforts to know if I could actually change the narrative or not.
'What's done is done... no use brooding over it...' I shrugged my shoulders, dropping the subject as I turned to my character screen and unread notifications.
[+1 level to the Brawling skill]
[Brawling (level 46)]
[+1 level to the Computers skill]
[Computers level (37)]
[+11 levels to the Mechanics skill]
[Mechanics (level 26)]
[Due to reaching a milestone in your Mechanics skill, you have unlocked the perk: Metallurgic Intuition]
[Metallurgic Intuition: The user is a master of the field of metallurgy; they can examine the performance of metals and determine which ones can be put to which uses. The user can find a way to make a unique alloy]
[+4 levels to the Duelist class]
[Duelist (level MAX)]
[+12 EXP points]
[+3 class levels and nine stat points accumulated]
[You have reached the maximum level for your current class. Would you like to choose the next one now?]
'Having too many skills is biting me in the ass...' I sighed, scratching my head as I read through the notifications. My skills were lagging behind while my stats were shooting up.
I wanted to keep my skills and stats balanced because I'd start relying on brute strength rather than technique in my fights, which I needed to avoid.
Being the brute type with nothing other than muscle going for me was not something I wanted for myself, and even if my personal strength was my greatest weapon, I didn't want to go around parading it every time I had to fight someone.
I wanted to keep it as a last resort and rely on my skills and technology to come off as a regular guy like what happened in the theatre because it would be more effective that way.
Oh? So you've spent days studying my sentry guns, and now you know their weakness? What's that? You just destroyed my shit ton of gadgets, and now you think you can kick my ass because I can't hide behind my technology?
How about I kick yours instead?
In other words, I needed to have layers people could focus on countering instead of working on plans to counter my personal strength, so I could use it and put them down when they least expected it.
Thus, I didn't fight myself in the theatre and just used my sentry guns to beat everyone down, and why I've never shied from using my gadgets in public. I wanted people to bring EMPs to fist fights.
'Still... metallurgic Intuition, huh?' I mused, rubbing my chin in thought as I focused on the new perk. If it's as effective as I think it would be, it will help solve many problems I'm having with the shit I create.
'I might need to build a forge or something in the hideout to put the perk to good use...' I nodded, making up my mind to try it as soon as possible as I moved on to pick a new class.
[Available archetype specific classes: (Surgeon) (Chemist) (Biologist)]
[Available basic classes: (Artist) (Scholar) (Linguist)]
I hesitated for a second before choosing the Artist class. I still didn't have the time to work on new skills from the three available archetype classes, so I'll postpone it for the meantime.
The scholar might have been a better option, but I was really bothered by how ugly my creations looked, and I wanted sentry guns that would fit better into the environment to use in ambushes and whatnot.
[Art: have you ever wanted to create some masterpiece for the ages or have your CD go platinum? All you need is a high enough level in the Art skill. The skill covers music, painting, sculpture, creative writing, and everything in between]
[You have gained a new class: Artist]
[You have gained the skill: Art]
[+3 class levels to the Artist class (accumulated)]
[Artist (level 4)]
[+12 stat points]
[Stat points: 41]
'Finally! With this many stat points, I can finally even my attribute numbers!' I fist pumped the air, feeling the urge to cry tears of joy as I immediately put 40 points into my mind attribute.
...
Name: Grayson Whitlock
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Archetype: (The Mad Scientist level 4)
Class: [Thief (level MAX)] [Fighter (level MAX)] [Acrobat (Level MAX)] [Programmer (Level MAX) [Gunman (level MAX)] [Mechanic (level MAX)] [Duelist (level MAX)] [Artist (level 4)]
...
Stats:
Body: 140
Mind: 140
Spirit: 140
Stat Points: 1
...
Skills:
[Brawling (level 46)]
[Crime (level 40)]
[Acrobatics (level 27)]
[Computers (level 37)]
[Gun Mastery (level 24)]
[Mechanics (26)]
[Medieval Weapons Mastery (11)]
[Art (1)]
...
Perks:
[Dormant Metahuman]
[Silent Step]
[Eidetic Kinesthesia]
[Superhuman Stamina]
[Perfect Recall]
[Accelerated Healing]
[Energy Detector]
[Energy Concentration]
[Augmented Reality Vision]
[Energy Conductor]
[Enhanced Durability]
[Empathy]
[Energy Manifestation]
[Metallurgic Intuition]
...
Archetype powers:
[Network Crash]
[Code Manipulation]
[Personal Computer]
[Machinery Scan]
[Machine Control]
[Machine Morphing]
...
'Not bad... now I need to work on my Mechanics skill a bit more, and maybe get my Brawling over 50...' I mused, rubbing my chin in contemplation as I browsed my stats, skills, perks, and powers.
'I'll need to stop doing everything else... and maybe take another general class...' I nodded as I closed the system interface and shut my eyes to get some sleep.
However, sleep didn't come, and I even moved to my bed to toss and turn for a couple of minutes, only to get the same result, prompting me to get up with a sigh.
'Should I go out and beat up some thugs to clear my head...?' I contemplated but quickly shook my head, dismissing the idea. The streets were likely peaceful right now since a good portion of mobsters were currently in lock-up, courtesy of yours truly.
'A normal walk would do then...' I concluded as I put on my street clothes and moved to exit the hideout.
...
Gotham
The Iceberg Lounge
Oswald Cobblepot couldn't help but sigh in contentment as he leaned on his luxurious chair inside his office in the bar he operated, overlooking the bar's hall.
There were criminals from all levels mingling in the bar, low leveled grunts, executives, lieutenant, underbosses, and even the occasional super villains.
Each and every person who frequented the Iceberg Lounge was a criminal of sorts. They were all very aggressive people with big egos, but they knew better than to act on them.
They were in the Penguin's territory, in his personal fort. Oswald had a reputation for taking personal offense at people making trouble under his nose that looked more like a peek than anything else, not that anyone had the courage to point it out to his face.
The Penguin has always been an oddball, even among the countless villains and crime lords to call Gotham their home, and it wasn't his bizarre appearance to make him stand out.
Among Batman's many foes, Oswald was likely the only sane one out of the bunch, and while others would spend every waking moment plotting against the caped crusader, he would try to avoid him like the plague.
He once even created a partnership with the dark knight and helped him multiple times to get the vigilante off his back, but that was neither here nor there, just business.
"There you are, Mr. Whisker..." Oswald said with a smile splitting his face as he turned to the door when it opened, and one of his henchmen accompanied an elderly gentleman inside.
The elderly gentleman wiped the sweat off his forehead and nodded in greeting without saying a word. He then opened his suitcase and retrieved a wooden ventriloquist doll, which he immediately put on his right hand.
"Whatcha need, Oswald?" the doll that looked like a stereotypical mafioso with a striped suit, fedora hat, and a thick cigar in its mouth asked in a heavy Brooklyn accent.
"I want what every man wants, my dear Scarface. Untold power and riches," Oswald replied with a wide grin. "And now, with Black Mask and so many thugs behind bars, it's our opportunity to achieve both..."
...
Gotham
East End
"Hey, Mark..." I greeted, smiling and waving my hand as I approached the security guard who stood at the apartment complex entrance as usual, and he quickly returned the gesture.
I activated my empathy, and instead of the purple color, I saw when I met him before my encounter with the Hitman and the Mawzir, Mark was radiating a mixture of blue and green auras.
He didn't look absentminded and restless either, so my little donation must have accomplished its intended purpose, which was a relief. Mark was an okay guy, and he deserved some peace of mind.
"Looks like you're in a good mood today. Something nice happened lately?" I probingly asked as I leaned on the wall next to the building's gate, smiling.
"Kind of...?" Mark replied with a sheepish smile as he scratched his head, seeming not too sure of himself. "I was having a big problem for a while now, and it just magically disappeared," he added, shaking his head with a beaming smile.
"Well, you know what they say... good things happen to good people," I said with a shrug as I pushed myself off the wall. "I was in the area and thought I'd drop by and see how you were doing," I added, waving my hand to the side.
"You were kinda out of it when I last came. Glad to see you're doing better now," I concluded as I walked away while waving my hand back at the security guard.
"Thanks for dropping by, Gray. You're a good person," Mark said with a smile of his own as he waved me back, and I froze at his words for a second but quickly resumed walking.
"Someone's gotta be in this city, am I right?" I replied with a laugh, shrugging off the compliment as I walked away, unconsciously hastening my steps.
...
'A good person, huh...?' I mused, bitterly smiling with a sigh as I scratched my head in a dark alley a decent distance away from the apartment complex.
'Can I really be called a good person...?' I wondered as images of the people I'd left to die back when Firefly was going berserk. The dead mercenary in my inventory also came to mind.
'Whatever...' I shook my head, letting out another, and brought up my inventory interface to take out my motorcycle to go on a drive and clear my head.
However, I heard some noise from the alley's dumpster, prompting me to stop what I was doing and approach and check it out. Walking to the side of it, I raised an eyebrow at what I saw.
It was a tiny, thin, and incredibly malnourished-looking black kitten powerlessly lying on top of a trash bag, trying to claw its way into it to get to the leftovers within.
Memories of waking up in this world to a similar situation flashed in my mind.
"Bad day, huh? I was in the same spot some time ago..." I remarked, bitterly smiling as I kneeled down and reached an open palm to the tiny kitten.
It immediately hissed and tried to bite at my hand, prompting me to withdraw my hand quickly. I wouldn't have felt anything, but the kitten would have broken its teeth on my hard skin if I didn't remove it.
"And a biter too..." I said, my smile turning genuine as I chuckled and shook my head. I activated my empathy and was immediately assaulted by a yellow and black aura radiating from the kitten; fear.
'Let's try this...' I kept my smile as I began pushing my emotions with empathy into the kitten and offered my hand to it again. It was another application of the perk, but I've never tried it before as I wanted to keep the fact I can sense people's emotions to myself.
The kitten looked surprised by the feeling for a second before it sniffed at my hand and meowed softly.
"There you go..." I said as I scratched the kitten under its chin, and it just sat there and let me do it without showing any reaction, negative or positive.
"You wanna come with me? I'll take care of you...?" I said as I removed my hand from its chin, and it just looked at me with its baby blue eyes. I took its silence as approval.
"I guess I'll call you Soot. How does that sound, Lil Soot?" I said with a chuckle as I picked up the kitten by its nape, stuffed it in my jacket, and got up.
'Now... where is the closest vet...?'
...
Gray's hideout
"Here we are," I said as I opened my jacket zipper and let Soot out, putting him on the ground. "It's not much, but make yourself at home," I added as I watched the little kitten slowly start moving to explore the place.
I'd already taken him to the vet, and luckily he wasn't suffering from anything life-threatening. He was just severely malnourished, so the doctor let us leave after giving him a few shots and recommending specific cat food.
I smiled while I observed Soot carefully sniffing around the hideout as he explored his new home and walked to the living area to set up his bowl and fill it with food.
"I'll see you tomorrow, little guy," I remarked, lazily stretching as I made my way to my bedroom, feeling like I'd finally be able to get some sleep now.
And sure enough, I felt sleep take over me as soon as my head hit the pillow.
...
My nose scrunched up as I woke up, smelling something foul and feeling a weight on my face. I felt at my head and found something fluffy resting on top of it.
I picked the fluffy, black object and brought it in front of my face as I sat on the edge of my bed. "Jesus, you need a bath, my guy..." I remarked, smiling as Soot began scratching my hand in protest, demanding I let him go at once.
I obliged, yawning as I put on my clothes and went to the bathroom to wash my face after letting the feisty kitten down on the ground and watching zoom away.
"That bath is gonna have to wait, though," I said, messaging the back of my neck as I took out my phone to see the time. "I still have to meet Richard and tell him how things went..." I added to no one in particular as I took a snack from my inventory and headed out.
"You be good now," I concluded, giving the kitten, zooming away around the hideout, one last look before I left, and it didn't even spare me so much as a glance, causing me to chuckle.
"Cats..."
...
Gotham City Park
"There's no need to worry, Richard," Benjamin said with a sigh, messaging his forehead in exasperation. "If the kid can take care of over 100 thugs on his own, he wouldn't fave any problems in the penguin's tournament," he added with a shake of his head.
"I'm not worried about the tournament, Ben," Richard replied while scratching his head. "Those people are in Gotham, and they've already taken Harley Quinn and that British mercenary girl," he added, his tone concerned.
"You know how they work, Richard. They only go after people with criminal records," Benjamin said with a dismissive wave of his hand as he shrugged.
"They'd never go after someone with a clean record like the kid," Benjamin concluded in a matter-of-fact tone, dismissing Richard's worries as if they were meaningless.
"I hope you're right, old friend," Richard said after some thought, heavily sighing as he raised his hands in surrender at his friend's logic as the latter nodded.
"I am right. And look, the kid is here, so keep quiet. He doesn't need to know about them," Benjamin said, putting on a smile as he and Richard turned to the approaching Gray.
"Teacher, Ben," Gray greeted, slightly nodding his head as he stood in front of the two martial artists, and the two nodded at him and returned the gesture.
Gray then began narrating the brief battle in the theatre, and Benjamin and Richard intently listened to him speak without saying a word until he was done.
"I'd say you missed a good opportunity to test your skills, but I understand your reasoning," Richard said, evaluating Gray's performance after hearing what the latter had to say.
"However, what you've created is not something simple, and many people might want to get their hands on it," Richard meaningfully said, cautioning his student.
"You should prepare to deal with such people when they eventually come..." Richard concluded, and Benjamin nodded with a word of agreement.
"In any case, Lady Shiva has contacted me. She had already decided where and when you will be fighting her daughter..."
...
Gray's hideout
I couldn't help but smile as I watched the little spider-like machine I'd created by modifying a sentry gun clumsily walking around the hideout, tilting left and right, almost falling with every step.
My smile turned into a chuckle when I saw Lil Soot slowly creep toward it and lunge at the moving sentry gun's side, causing it to collapse on the ground.
"Quite the little hunter, aren't you?" I said with a laugh as I kneeled next to and pet the little kitten, proudly posing over its fallen prey with an aura of smugness.
"But you gotta stop bullying the little guy. You don't wanna cause a robot rebellion, and the eventual AI apocalypse, do you?" I remarked as I picked up the clumsy murder machine and put on its legs. "What am I saying, you're a cat, of course, you do."
The little kitten heard my words and just meowed before zooming away into the living area to do god knows what, and I could do nothing but shake my head in exasperation.
'Now... back to work...' I mused as I picked the sentry gun and moved to the target practice area. I set up seven targets, two of which were moving, put the sentry gun on the ground, and stepped back.
I activated the sentry gun's attack mod, and it stiffened for a second before it started clumsily moving, its face opening to reveal the gun barrel next to the red camera lens.
It opened fire, and the recoil caused its movement to become even more disoriented, but every shot still hit with maximum accuracy with little to no margin of error.
'Not bad... the automatic targeting system is impeccable, but the movement leaves a lot to be desired...' I rubbed my chin in thought as I watched the sentry gun demolish the targets.
'I'll have to work on the movement programming and adjust the mechanic limbs, and I'll have something I can use...' I nodded after some thought, intent on working on it later.
I've been working on this little guy since I talked with my teacher some days ago. Even though my Mechanics skills wasn't high enough to create a full-blown attack robot, something like this was still possible.
It looked like the average sentry guns I'd created earlier, but the body was thinner, and the gun would come out of the front instead of the upper part. It also had four long mechanical limbs to help it move.
In other words, it looked like a spider, hence the name; Spider Sentry.
'I should have gotten enough levels to max out Artist by now...' I mused as I brought up my system interface to see the accumulated notifications I'd been ignoring as usual.
[+1 level to the Brawling skill]
[Brawling (level 47)]
[+1 level the Crime skill]
[Crime (level 41)]
[+3 levels to the Computers skill]
[Computers (level 40)]
[1+ level to the Guns skill]
[Guns level 25]
[Due to reaching a milestone in your Guns skill, you have unlocked the perk: Ricochet Intuition]
[Ricochet Intuition: the ability to imbue your bullets with the capacity to bounce off structures and understand the properties of projectiles recoiling off of any surface and how to create ricochets]
[+11 levels to the Mechanics skill]
[Mechanics (level 37)]
[+2 levels to the Art skill]
[Art (level 3)]
[+6 levels to the Artist class]
[Artist (level MAX)]
[+18 stat points]
[Stat points: 19]
[+2 class levels and six stat points accumulated]
[You have reached the maximum level for your current class. Would you like to choose the next one now?]
'Still not there... guess I gotta take one more general class...' I sighed, scratching my head at how quickly I was maxing out the classes, leaving me unable to increase my archetype skills as much as I wanted.
I basically focused only on the Mechanic skill, but the others still leveled up somehow, and I ended up maxing the Artist class. 'Oh, well...' I shrugged as I took the Scholar class after some thought.
[You have gained a new class: Scholar]
[You have gained the skill: Knowledge]
[Knowledge: this skill covers all non-scientific disciplines like history, sociology, psychology, and the like. Knowledge can be helpful in identifying the background of supernatural creatures, helping with occult research, and allowing you to say cool stuff like this gauntlet is Late Medieval, probably from Florence; the markings are unmistakable. Chicks really dig that shit, you know?]
[+2 levels to the Scholar class]
[Scholar (level 3)]
[+6 stat points]
[Stat points: 25]
...
'Everything seems in check...' I nodded as I browsed through my character screen, finding everything in order.
...
Name: Grayson Whitlock
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Archetype: (The Mad Scientist level 4)
Class: [Thief (level MAX)] [Fighter (level MAX)] [Acrobat (Level MAX)] [Programmer (Level MAX) [Gunman (level MAX)] [Mechanic (level MAX)] [Duelist (level MAX)] [Artist (level MAX)] [Scholar (level 3)]
...
Stats:
Body: 140
Mind: 140
Spirit: 140
Stat Points: 25
...
'Back to work...' I picked up the spider gun and took it to my workbench to start working on upgrading its mechanical limbs before working out the kinks in its programming.
'I wonder how Patrick and the other guys in the warehouse are doing now...' I mused as I dismantled the spider guns limbs, stopping for a second before resuming my work.
'It's been a while... I should check in on them...?' I sighed as I dropped what I was doing and stepped away from the workbench. I was evidently in no mood to work, so I might as well go out and visit the warehouse.
I walked towards the exit and saw Soot lounging around and doing nothing, so I picked him up and put him in my jacket, intent on taking him with me, because why not?
"How about you and I go for a ride?" I asked with a smile as the little kitten climbed up to stick his head over the zipper and get a good view of where we were going.
He meowed, and I took that as approval, nodding my head and leaving the hideout.
...
East End
"Looks like you're having fun..." I remarked, smiling as I looked down at the fluffy head poking out of my jacket, fearlessly looking around despite the motorcycle's rapidly increasing speed.
I turned a corner, increasing the speed and making a deliberately sharp turn to see Soot's reaction, but he still had the same blank look on his face as he curiously inspected the surroundings.
"You win..." I said with a chuckle, shaking my head as I brought the motorcycle to a screeching stop in front of the warehouse and quickly dismounted.
I looked around but saw no one, prompting me to start honking the horn to get the homeless guy's attention, and sure enough, Patrick quickly came out from inside.
He smiled and waved his hand as he saw me, making his way towards the warehouse's fence gate.
"Oh! It's not like you to stay; you usually drop the food and take off before we even know you're there," Patrick said as he approached me and took the sandwich bag from my hand.
"I just don't want to impose. But It's been a while, and I thought I'd check in on you guys, see if you need anything," I replied with a shrug as I watched him take the bag from my hand.
"We're doing well enough. There's this little girl who'd been helping us for a while," Patrick replied, causing me to raise an eyebrow at his words, to which he chuckled.
"She's pretty much like you... we found her pretty banged up and tended to her wounds," Patrick said, sighing as he shook his head. "The poor thing looked even worse than you when you passed by back then," he added, waving a hand to the side.
"And now she won't go away, just like you, even though we told her not to worry about us old hobos," Patrick jokingly concluded, shaking his head with a shrug.
"I'm sure she has her reasons," I said with a smile, shaking my head as Soot began meowing, getting Patrick's attention. "This is Lil Soot, by the way. I found him in the street some time ago," I added as I scratched the little kitten's head, causing it to purr and push its head against my finger.
"Charming little fellow," Patrick said as he reached a finger towards Soot, only to withdraw it as the little kitten slapped it away, causing him to smile warily.
"Anyway, we might not stay in this warehouse for long," Patrick said after trying and failing to pet Soot a couple more times as the little kitten never stopped slapping his hand away, seeming very offended.
"I hear the warehouse owner came back to the city and will be selling it off, so we'll likely have to move out sooner or later," he added with a sigh, shaking his head.
"I just hope it happens sooner rather than later since that little girl seems to be trying to do something about it..." Patrick remarked, his tone concerned as he turned around and started walking away.
"I don't want that sweet girl doing anything crazy for our sake..."
...
Gray's hideout
"Isn't that...?" I remarked, raising an eyebrow as I sat in front of my laptop browsing the security footage from the cameras near the warehouse where Patrick and the others stayed.
"Asian, female, teenager, scarred face... Cassandra Cain..." I muttered to myself as I watched an Asian girl make her way to the warehouse, carrying a bag she wordlessly gave to Patrick before leaving.
"This is too much to be a coincidence..." I said with a sigh, scratching my head as I dismissed the security footage to start digging for information on the warehouse itself.
The warehouse used to belong to one Adam Harridan, who had inherited it from his father several years back, but he lives abroad in England, so he ignored it and left it unattended.
'Until he sold it off a month ago... and now the person who bought the warehouse is trying to sell it as well...' I mused, scratching my chin as I tried to find the buyer's identity in public records, but came up with nothing.
'The hard way it is then...' I frowned as I began digging through the city's private records and still found nothing, causing me to scratch my head in frustration.
I paused for a second and quickly came up with a solution. Getting back to work, I tracked down the former owner's address in England, intent on tracking his movements for the past month.
...
'This is taking forever...' I mused, sighing as I took a sip from my soda while watching the recordings from at least 15 cameras playing at 10X the speed, showing the warehouse's former owner doing all kinds of shit.
I'd hacked into the man's personal computer, extracted his schedule for the past month, hacked into the security network of every place he visited, and accessed their footage.
And now I was watching said footage at 10X speed for convenience's sake, which wasn't a problem thanks to my brain's evolved processing capabilities. It was still taking forever, though. I'd been staring at the laptop's monitor for four hours now.
Still, I finally managed to find something after two more hours.
"There..." I muttered, freezing the footage as I saw a woman meeting up with the former warehouse owner, offering him a piece of paper that looked like a contract of sorts.
I zoomed in on the paper. And sure enough, it was paperwork to transfer the warehouse's ownership. What's more, the woman was offering ten times the damned thing's estimated value as the buying price.
I tried to zoom on the woman's face, but she was sitting at an angle where the camera wouldn't clearly catch her face, causing me to frown as I began fast-forwarding the footage.
I still didn't get a good shot of her face, so I began tracking her movements through the street cameras after she exited the former warehouse owner's house.
The woman still avoided the cameras like a pro, but there were too many for her to do it forever, and I finally got a good shot of her face after following her movement for the next two hours, though slightly distorted.
I shrugged as I started working on enhancing the footage and sighed as I finally saw the woman's face clearly. "Fucking manipulative bitch..." I muttered, rubbing my forehead in exasperation as I activated the face recognition app to be sure, despite recognizing the visage.
'Sandra Wu-San... Lady Shiva, Cassandra Cain's mother...' I concluded as I connected the dots and quickly realized what was happening with the warehouse.
Lady Shiva went out of her way to buy the warehouse where Patrick and the others live at ten times the price to put it on sale and force Cassandra to participate in Penguin's tournament.
She would have to participate to get the prize money and buy the warehouse to let Patrick and his friends keep living there, forcing us to fight each other.
'Was Cassandra's encounter with Patrick and the others a coincidence, or did the bitch force that too somehow...?' My mind began wondering, but I shook it off as there was no use thinking about it right now.
'Jesus... and I thought I was an asshole for what I'm doing with the Hitman and Deborah...' I mused, feeling equally impressed and pissed off at the same time.
'The bitch wasn't kidding when she said she always gets what she wants that day...' I scoffed as I remembered Lady Shiva's words to my teacher before she left when I first saw her.
'But now you've gone and made it personal...' I mused, my expression darkening. My first instinct was to ruin the whole thing by buying another warehouse or a proper shelter and letting Patrick and others move there.
Thus, Cassandra would have no reason to participate in the damned tournament, and I wouldn't have to fight her, effectively running Lady Shiva's plan.
'But what's to stop her from cooking up another plan...?' I sighed, scratching my head in frustration. If Lady Shiva could go this far to get me to fight her daughter, then who's to say she wouldn't do something worst next time?
'No... I need to put the crazy bitch in her place and completely crush her if I want her to give up...' I thoughtfully hummed as I squeezed my brain to remember everything I knew about Lady Shiva from the comics.
She was basically a battle maniac, and her only purpose in life was to look for skilled martial artists to use as grinding stones to improve her skill and grow more powerful.
Lady Shiva most likely wanted her daughter to reach her full potential to have a worthy opponent or something along those dumbass lines. However, she does have a code of honor, so she will keep her words if I get her to promise something.
'Maybe I can call her out if I beat Cassandra and have a wager with her or something...?' I wondered as I tried to find a solution to deal with the crazy Asian chick and force her to stop bothering the homeless guys in the warehouse and myself.
'Ok... so beat her daughter, challenge her, and get her to promise to fuck off and leave us alone...' I couldn't help but sigh at how optimistic and honestly dumb my plan sounded when I put it into words, but it was the only thing I got.
The only alternative solution I could think of was killing her, but that would open an altogether different can of worms. I knew I could kill Lady Shiva and was not afraid of her. Not one bit.
Sure, Lady Shiva was one of the greatest martial artists in the world and could even kick Bruce Wayne's ass in a straight fight without gadgets, but she was no Batman.
She didn't have Batman's technology, his recourses, his intellect, and most importantly, his plot armor, which is why I was scared shitless of the caped crusader.
She was just a chick with fancy kung-fu moves, but I had those too, and I could bend steel and headbutt concrete walls into smithereens to boot, so no, I wasn't afraid of Lady Shiva.
However, she was part of the League of Assassins and friends with Batman. Killing her would bring the full might of the Ras Al-Ghul and his goons on my head, and let me tell you, those guys are persistent as hell.
So in the meantime, I could only go with my optimistic plan unless I wanted to deal with the League of Fucking Shadows, which I didn't want to do unless absolutely necessary, thank you very much.
'Why do things always have to be so complicated...?' I sighed, frowning as I looked down when I felt a weight pulling on my pants sleeve. My frown turned into a smile when I saw Lil Soot slowly climbing my pants, only to settle and lie down on my lab and transform into a bread loaf, like only cats could, contently closing his eyes.
"Well, at least you look carefree enough for the both of us..." I remarked with a chuckle as I scratched the little kitten's back, and he responded by hissing at me, demanding that I'd stop and let him rest from what seemed like a long arduous day of back-breaking work.
I just laughed, shaking my head as I leaned on the chair and took out my phone to pass the time.
...
The Iceberg Lounge
Oswald Copplebot couldn't help but grin in satisfaction as he flicked his expensive cigar into the ashtray while looking over his club from his office on the second floor.
Everything was going swimmingly for him for the past couple of days, despite several recent setbacks. He was slowly but surely taking over Gotham's underground, and the best thing about it is that his subordinates were doing it quietly without getting anyone's attention.
If there's one thing he'd complain about, it's that the KGbeast, a Russian mercenary The Penguin had wanted to recruit for a while, had disappeared some time ago, rumored to be killed by the new vigilante while doing a job for Black Mask.
Still, he had his own competent henchmen for every situation, and he was slowly gaining power and influence over Gotham with no one the wiser for it.
However, Oswald's good mood immediately soured when he heard a noise from behind and turned to see an Asian woman in a black trench coat standing with her hands behind her back as she looked at him.
"Oswald..." the woman blankly remarked in casual greeting as she slowly approached the mob boss with the same leisure posture, her steps slow and deliberate.
"Lady Wu-San... what I can do for you...?" Oswald cheerfully said, putting on a fake smile as he reached for his umbrella under the desk, prepared to fight back and defend himself.
"No need to be alarmed, Oswald. I'm only here to talk about your little tournament..."
...
Gotham City Park
"Are you ready?" Richard asked as he looked at Gray, who was doing some light sparring with Benjamin as a last-minute warm-up before the tournament.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Gray replied as he caught Benjamin's fist and pushed it away, still holding back his strength, but he was now skilled enough to hold his own without relying on his brute force.
"Yeah, the kid is gonna crush everything in his way," Benjamin said with a proud smirk, crossing his arms as if he was talking about his own student, causing Richard to scoff.
Richard agreed with Benjamin's sentiment, but he didn't bother to say it as Gray seemed confident enough without any words of encouragement, so he merely smiled.
"Then we should be on our way. The tournament will start in a couple of hours," Richard said with a nod, prompting Gray to return the gesture and put on his gear.
"That's never going to get old..." Benjamin said, his eyes widening as he watched the riot gear and trench coat suddenly appear on Gray's body, replacing his training clothes.
He had already seen Gray's power to make things disappear and reappear multiple times by now, but it never failed to amaze him as he'd seen nothing like it.
"You try doing that a gazillion times, and it'll get old pretty quickly," Gray said with a chuckle, shrugging his shoulder as he turned to the dark-skinned man.
"Either way, It's still an incredible power. You must be careful about using it in public," Richard commented from the side as he picked up a duffle bag with what little belongings he owned.
"It's a bit too late for that..." Gray sheepishly replied, awkwardly putting a hand on the back of his neck as he nervously chuckled.
"No use crying over spilled milk, I suppose," Richard carelessly said, shrugging his shoulder as he began walking after gesturing for Gray and Benjamin to follow.
"Come on, we don't wanna be late," Richard said, hastening his steps as he turned back and saw the duo following along at a leisurely pace, causing them to nod and oblige.
...
East End
Inside an empty garage
Cassandra Cain took a deep breath as she finished her daily training ritual. She then turned to the sky, judging the time by looking at the sun as she didn't have a phone or any method to tell the time.
Jabbing at the air to psyche herself up after ascertaining the time, Cassandra unclenched her fist and let out the breath she was holding. She reached behind her neck and covered her head with the hoodie, resolutely nodding before she moved to the exit.
She had come a long way to get here to Gotham as she kept moving from one place to another with no real purpose other than to escape her father's clutches as he hounded her every step of the way.
For the longest time, her only care was her next meal and how to escape when David Cain eventually found her again until she met those kind homeless people when she was at her lowest point.
She had just escaped an ambush in Gotham's suburbs as she was making her way to Metropolis when she wandered into the warehouse where the homeless people found her and tended to her wounds.
They didn't ask questions; they didn't demand anything in return for their kindness and merely nursed her back to health, comforted her with no expectations in mind.
Cassandra had never wished she could speak as much as she did at the time after finding herself unable to utter the words to thank the good people who saved her life.
And it wasn't only her life that those people saved. Because of their kindness, something she felt for the first time in their presence, Cassandra realized that there was more to life than surviving and escaping her father.
She had a purpose now; to provide the same kindness and warmth the people in the warehouse gave her to everyone who needed it and to protect her benefactors who brought light into her life at her darkest hour.
She can do real good here in this crooked city and maybe, just maybe, even redeem herself and atone for taking that man's life when she was a child by making Gotham a better place.
Carrying those convictions close at heart, Cassandra Cain left the parking lot, making her way to the Iceberg Lounge, prepared to risk her life to win if need be.
...
Somewhere in Gotham
As she emptied the beer can with one gulp, Xiomara Rojas frowned at how little it affected her despite having already finished two six-packs of the alcoholic beverage by now.
It was her blessing and curse, her alien heritage. She was only half human, and her extraordinary strength came from her extraterrestrial ancestry.
Xiomara's heritage not only gave her superhuman strength, speed, and stamina, but it also gave her a unique appearance that brought nothing but trouble.
Her adoptive parents, David and Lisa Rojas, had found her in the Black Rock Desert when she was a baby, shrouded by a mysterious, sentient chain, which she later called the Obelus.
The chain around Xiomara was sentient and protected her from any external dangers in the desert but allowed David and Lisa to touch the baby.
Lisa saw this as a sign that the chain wanted her and David to look after the baby until Xiomara's biological parents came around. They took her in and raised her as their own.
Obelus neither separated from Xiomara nor the Rojas, as it was its duty to protect the girl at all costs.
As the years went on, and Xiomara was ready to attend school, David and Lisa chose to home school the young girl and played with her all the time so she wouldn't need to socialize to protect her from prejudice because of her unique appearance.
When Xiomara asked about her heritage, David told her that her parents were superheroes who left Xiomara with David and Lisa while they protected the universe.
Just like that, Xiomara lived with her parents feeling no stability as they were constantly on the move due to their debts and legal issues that followed them every step of the way.
One day while walking around the town center after she sneaked out of her home, Xiomara saw a news bulletin about the intergalactic mercenary and the last of the Czarnian alien race, Lobo, fighting Superman.
She instinctively knew that Lobo was her father and rushed home to confront her adoptive parents for lying about her biological parents being superheroes. Lobo was clearly many things, but heroic was none of them.
Enraged by her adoptive parent's explanation that they lied to her for her own good, she took the Obelus and ran from home, only to be attacked by a racist mob at the gas station because of her appearance.
She calmed down after beating up her assailants and decided to return to her adoptive parents' home, only to find their trailer burned to the ground and Lisa and David murdered when she finally arrived.
Xiomara went on the run, as she knew she would be blamed for her parents' death, swearing to find whoever was responsible for their deaths to make them pay dearly.
She used her incredible strength to make money by participating in underground fighting rings after taking the name Crush, leading her right to Gotham, ready to participate in the Penguin's tournament just as she was running low on cash.
"Hopefully, this fighting ring isn't as boring as that shithole in New York..." Xiomara muttered to no one in particular as she crushed the beer can in her hand into a ball and threw it aside.
...
The Iceberg Lounge
"Fancy place..." I remarked, looking around as I stood in line with Benjamin and Richard at the Penguin's club entrance, having just arrived here.
"The Penguin definitely knows how to sell that whole rich master mind persona he's got going..." Benjamin said with a smirk as he surveyed the area.
"You sure made a name for yourself, kid," Benjamin added as he noticed the people in line hurry out of my way after seeing me in full gear, likely assuming I was here to make trouble.
"Might as well make use of it," I said with a chuckle as I positioned myself ahead of Richard and Benjamin and walked forward to cut the line, much to my teacher's exasperation, but he said nothing and just followed.
People immediately moved out of our way as they were regular thugs here to spectate the fights, and I didn't pause as I kept moving forward until a man in a suit came out of the club and approached us.
"Excuse me, but are you here to participate?" the man, obviously a Penguin henchman, politely asked as he stopped before us, his gaze alternating between Richard, Benjamin, and myself.
"I am, and they're here with me," I blankly replied with a shrug, gesturing towards my teacher and Benjamin, to which the man nodded in understanding.
"Then please follow me. I will take you to your room where you can wait for the tournament to begin in comfort," The man said as he stepped back and gestured for us to get out of the line.
I shared a look with Richard and Benjamin, and they shrugged, so I nodded at the man, exited the line, and followed him into the interior of the Iceberg Lounge.
...
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