1.
I know I haven't updated this in a while, but I've been too busy working on my personal revenge quest as well as my progress on neo-karate. I'm very pleased to report that both of these hobbies have been extremely successful.
It's been six months since I last updated this. Over the course of those months, we have been to eight-hundred and fifty gun shops around Gotham, and it is quite corrupt. I haven't had to use a single threat on anyone I've visited so far. All of them have just accepted my money and told me the information I needed. In other circumstances, I'd be worried. In these circumstances, however, I'm overjoyed! Despite the fact that I may seem extremely hungry for vengeance, I still don't want to point a gun to mostly innocent civilians. They would have done nothing wrong to me in that situation, except to have followed the law.
The law is not currently completely on my side. But in relation to the guy that murdered my parents, I only have my own law.
So, in summation, the gun shops are going really well. I've compiled an extremely long list of suspects and their addresses, all stored on my computer. In terms of neo-karate, Alfred says he's very pleased with my progress, which is encouraging. Borris is further ahead of me, but he always was the teacher suck-up. And it matters not. Today, I did something I've been dreaming of doing ever since I met Alfred. I punched him. In the upper regions of his stomach.
Oh, sure, it didn't really seem to hurt that much for him, and I have punched him before. What matters is that, this time, he wasn't simply allowing me to do it. What matters is that I've made progress. It went something like this.
After a delicious meal of caviar and some really expensive vegetable I forgot the name of (okay, Borris tells me it's called 'feller bons'), I did thirty minutes of meditation. That's another thing I've improved at. The more and more I practise, the easier and easier it gets to block out the horrible images. Mind you, they still sometimes get through, but I can actually get through a decent amount of time of just focusing on my surroundings now. I cannot say how great that feels.
However, there is a downside to this. The more I block these images out during meditation- and throughout the day- the more they appear in my dreams. Last night, I was having a pleasant dream about Mayor Garcia eating a nice, warm bowl of pumpkin pie, but the dream quickly turned sour when his neck was chopped off by some hands tearing the necklace which he was wearing. I had just found out that the hands belonged to my father when I woke up, my blanket drenched in sweat. I can still hear my father's evil laugh. I've never heard him laugh that way during his too-quick existence in Gotham, but the laugh felt familiar. It felt like it touched my soul.
In the dojo, Alfred was waiting for me. It annoys me very much that he always seems to finish his meditation right before me. No matter how quickly I try to get to the dojo, he's always sitting there with a timer showing thirty minutes in his hand. I'm sure he does it just to spite me. Don't get me wrong, I have grown warmer to him since our first meeting, but he can really be annoying if he chooses to be so.
"Now that we're all here, we can start," Alfred said, "Have you been practising the Double-Handed Geometry?"
Borris and I nodded. We sometimes practise in between our trips to different gun shops. These trips have gradually grown longer and longer as we've moved further and further away from Gotham Centre and Wayne Manor.
"Well, I suppose we'll find out if you're telling the truth then, hmm?" said Alfred.
"Don't use that tone of voice on me!" said Borris, "Remember your position!"
"Of course, my good Master," replied Alfred, smiling.
"Stop patronising us!" I hissed, "Or you'll get a rap on the head!"
"Well then I suppose I'll need that rap."
"Oh, you insolent wretch!"
And then we were fighting. Alfred still punches me down all of the time, but sometimes I'm able to stand my ground against him before I fall. Today, using mainly the Double-Handed Geometry, I was able to stand my ground longer than usual. Another thing to be proud of, I suppose.
While we were engaged in this struggle, the historic moment happened. Alfred, while dealing with me, had been a little sloppier than usual, and had accidentally left a gap around the upper regions of his stomach. It was a flaw that lasted for only around a second, and, had I not been looking at that specific area at that exact time, I would have missed it. Needless to say, I didn't miss it. In fact, I very much hit it. Spotting the flaw, I punched Alfred in the region he had left uncovered. The next moment, he had me on the floor, but the damage had already been done.
As I rose up off the ground, I saw Borris looking at me with shock and Alfred with pleasant surprise.
"Well," he said, "I suppose that Master has finally learned something from old Alfred. Nice punch."
I have experienced traces of happiness since my parents died. Little fleeting ones, coming from a funny joke Borris told, or buying a $200 ice-cream after another successful day. But this made me truly happy. And I'm still feeling pretty good about it now. The feeling will doubtless go away in a few minutes, but, while it's still here, it feels pretty damn good.
2.
It happened. The thing I've been fearing for six months now, ever since I began my revenge quest. I had to threaten someone today.
I don't know how to write down my precise feelings right now. Most of me feels extremely shocked and disgusted at myself, which is the natural reaction one would expect. Yet there's a very small part of me that, to my disgust, seems to have actually enjoyed it. And I am very scared of that small part of me.
I know for certain that I still wish to continue pursuing revenge. Borris had another conversation with me today about stopping my quest, trying to convince me of its futility. It's been months since he's done that, and I almost agreed with him this time around. This has, in all, been an extremely exhausting experience, and it's nowhere close to ending. I've still got to visit all of the people on my long list of suspects afterwards. Considering this, I was at that point so tired and so ashamed of what I'd just done that I almost gave in. Almost. Then I remembered that night, and my resolve hardened. How could it not, after it saw the most horrifying moment of my life again? How could it not be hardened at the sight of two corpses that used to be the hosts of two people I still dearly love?
I'm still doing this. It's been six months since my parents have died, but their murderer still hasn't been found. My parents are still not resting in peace. Vengeance has still not been served. And that night still flashes before my eyes.
My hatred of my parents' murderer will carry me all the way until justice is served. That's a bet I can guarantee you won't lose.
But back onto the events of today. Borris and I had already visited one shop this morning. The second shop, at which these following events took place, is called, "Fillip's Guns and Other Weaponry". I don't know who this Fillip is, but he hires people that should be police officers. I mean, this is Gotham City, for crying out loud! They should've picked someplace better to show their honour.
Borris and I donned our disguises and went into the shop, expecting nothing different than what we've gotten from all of the other gun shops we've visited so far. Unfortunately, this shop doesn't seem to have a sense of taking business opportunities when they arise.
It was filled to the brim with guns, grenades, grappling hooks, and other such similar items. Borris was very impressed by the AG-71 that they had proudly on display in the shop. It was worth quite a lot of money, and that's a lot coming from me.
"Ah, yes!" said the employee at the shop, seeing Borris' impressed face, "You have seen the masterpiece of our collection. Others have been either too poor or too weak to buy it. Will you be the same as them? Or will you pay the price to own such a magnificent beauty such as this?"
"We aren't actually here to buy," I said, before Borris could attempt to buy the gun.
We were on a schedule, and we couldn't stop to buy a gun that we didn't need.
"You aren't here to buy?" asked the employee, looking a little downhearted, "Then what are you here for?"
"Let me rephrase that," I said, "We aren't here to buy guns."
"So, grenades then?"
"No. We are here to buy information."
There was a silence.
"I don't understand," said the employee.
"Six months ago, my parents died," I said.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you. Now, they didn't just die from natural causes. They were murdered by someone I've decided to call 'The Necklace'. Now, I don't know this sorry excuse for a person's identity, but I do know that he murdered my father with either a Freebullet or a Dognapper, bought in the span of a week before it was used on my father. So, knowing this information, I am seeking his murderer. This is where you come in. You have the information I need. I am asking you kindly, madame, to give me the address and name of every single person who bought a Freebullet or a Dognapper from your shop six months ago. Please. Help me avenge my parents. My mother died by being strangled with her own necklace. Do you think that such a fiend should be allowed to live?"
The employee looked doubtful.
"I don't know man," she said, "Shouldn't the police be handling this?"
"I asked the police to handle it, but they refused. They are corrupt, my good madame, by the criminal underworld of Gotham City, who silence the police officers by exploiting capitalism at its dirtiest. Those that aren't corrupt are simply too lazy to act upon justice. And so you have an entire police force of people who aren't willing to do anything. Well, I think my parents deserve justice, so I'm doing the job for them."
"I still don't know, man," said the employee, "Isn't what you're doing technically illegal? And won't I also be doing something illegal by helping you? You're asking a lot from me, man. Maybe you should just go to therapy or something."
I could see that she wasn't going to budge. So I decided to give her something that would help her budge. I silently grabbed out $5,000. The employee looked at me, and suddenly, her face gave a little smile.
"I see what you're playing at here, Mister," she said, still smiling and taking the money, "Why don't you come around here and I'll show you the information you need?"
"Thank you very much," I said, "You've just played a small part in bringing about true justice."
I was feeling like this would be another successful endeavour, and kept feeling that way as the employee led us to the counter. I still felt that way when the employee put the money in the cash register, and then I was being held at gunpoint.
"Fuck," I said, putting my hands up immediately.
"Don't you move a single inch, you pieces of shit," said the employee, "I'm calling the police. I'm sure they'll be very interested to get their hands on you. Your reputation precedes you, gentlemen. Pretty much every gun shop knows about you now. I'm going to make sure that you won't bribe any more of them."
I guess she's one person not corrupted by capitalism. Good for her.
My heart was beating at least 43 miles per hour at that point. Endless feelings of regret, fear, and self-reprimand were spiralling across my system, although I mainly felt them in my chest and stomach area. I felt like I could tear myself apart from my stupidity.
As the employee continued talking, I forced myself to become calm. I remembered what Alfred taught me about such a topic. Deep breaths. Eyes closed. Mind focused. I opened my eyes again, feeling a sense of peace and serenity. I looked over at Borris, and muttered the words, "Giant Soliloquy" at him. He nodded.
I counted from three on my right finger. The employee saw what we were doing, but before she could say anything, her gun was out of her hands, and we were holding her at gunpoint.
"Hands up!" I said.
"No," she said, and performed a Gordon Kick, taking my hand off the gun, and turning the fight into a fight of neo-karate.
I responded with a Geoffrey Punch to the lower neck. She retorted back with a Fjord Crater. We were at practically the same skill level. I could honestly not say which one of us would've won, had Borris not been there.
Borris is at a slightly higher skill level than the employee, meaning he had the tactical advantage. Add to this with me also pestering her, and she was very quickly outmatched. The fight very quickly turned into an unfair one, and we soon had her pinned to the floor.
"You're the reason why Gotham is such a bad city!" she spat as she struggled against us, "You claim to be fulfilling a worthy goal, and therefore you feel justified in committing crimes, huh? Well, guess what? That's also what the crime bosses think!"
I performed a Giggle of Terror on her head to get her drowsy but not unconscious. We tied her up using some rope we found in the shop, feeling extremely bad about it the entire time, and then shook her to get her out of her drowsy state.
I was the one who threatened her at gunpoint. With a loaded gun. At that moment, I was the one who would decide whether or not this person would live. It's a terrible power to have.
Borris dragged her up onto her feet.
"Now that all of the formalities are out of the way," I said, "Let's get down to business. You're going to tell us where we can find the information we need, or you're going to die."
Thankfully for all of us, this employee's sense of honour did not exceed her will to live, so she gave us the information we needed. Borris recorded it down on his phone, and we left the employee still tied on the floor of the gun shop, waiting for someone to find her. We couldn't just free her. It would jeopardise us all over again.
We walked to the Tank-Lamborghini as two very forlorn men, ashamed at what we'd just done. But, like I said, we had no choice. My parents' honour is at stake.
3.
At last. Part one of my mission is complete.
It has been eight months now since my parents died. Has my resolve weakened since then? While admittedly I have had moments of weakness, the image of them dying has never left my mind. My resolve is still very, very firm.
Has Borris' resolve weakened? I'm very surprised and pleased to report that it hasn't. Apart from those talks to 'try to talk me into some sense', he has been extremely supportive and has whiled away the minutes between each shop very pleasantly. He's also extremely good to talk to when I am struggling with the deaths of my parents, and he's as happy as I am that we've finished the gun shops.
Alfred the Butler, while he still is weird, serves some mean coffee and sandwiches.
During my travels around Gotham City, seeking vengeance, I have received a lot of fame around the gun shop community. Shop owners eagerly await my donation of $5000. Some have even tried to bargain for more, but the threat of getting nothing instead of the, in my opinion, reasonable sum of $5000 has easily changed their minds.
In total, I have spent six million, two-hundred and ninety thousand dollars on my revenge quest. That's nothing in comparison with my hefty fortune, left behind to me by my parents.
I would rather have my parents.
During my travels, I have had to threaten four more people since that first one I recently wrote about. This has led to a lot of police trying to sniff me out, particularly that pest of a police officer, Commissioner Gordon (fun fact, I actually used to date his daughter). Luckily, I reside in Gotham City, and the community of gun shop employees and employers have my back. The police have still not been able to sniff Borris and I out. Of course, they couldn't sniff out my parents' murderer either.
Unfortunately, every single innocent gun shop employee that I have had to threaten has helped contribute to the development of a large hole inside me. What makes it worse is the fact that the ones I threatened are probably the best of the gun shop community. They really didn't deserve to fear for their lives that way. So there's another thing to take out on my parents' murderer.
I have compiled an extensive list of over a thousand names and a thousand homes in these past six months. It's going to take me at least another year to visit them all, probably more. I am going to learn to be a professional house burglar in that time. I'm sure my neo-karate training will come in use. I'll still be developing it over the course of this hunt. That is, of course, assuming I don't find the murderer quickly.
How do I intend to find the murderer? Check their wardrobe. If the very recognisable costume isn't there, then look everywhere else, and then finally resort to violence and threatening. I am prepared to do this. After all, I have had my fair share of practice.
I begin part two of my plan tomorrow night. Borris will be accompanying me. We've already got the ski masks and the black costumes ready. Alfred is in on the plan. He still doesn't seem to be disconcerted by anything I've done so far. Maybe I should be worried about that.
It has taken me eight hard months of hard work to get to this stage. The police thought that it would be impossible eight months ago. Every time I think of that, a smirk appears on my face. I have worked extremely hard to exact vengeance, and I've still got a tonne of work ahead of me. Despite this, I can't help but imagine that, somewhere, my parents are looking down at all of this and smiling. They'll get their vengeance some day.
I promise.
