Try to remember.
Chapter 4: Night life.
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park, Young Justice, or any works in/related to H.P Lovecraft's Cthulhu mythos.
—?M?—
In between getting out of detention and starting his patrol, Kenny did some internet detective work and managed to turn up all the information he needed to begin his investigation fully.
A quick friend request sent via social media to Loretta Inzerillo, followed by a bit of digging, granted Kenny the location of her family's home. A penthouse apartment overlooking Gotham's glitzy entertainment district. Sitting lofty on the top-floor, and seemingly easy to access from the adjacent buildings. All Kenny needed to do to accomplish that was bring his makeshift grappling hook.
Most of Mysterion's equipment was either home made, dubiously acquired, or just simple objects repurposed for vigilante uses. The grapple was one of those, but the list included firecrackers, a flashlight, a knife, lock-picks, a USB drive he used to assist any computer hacking he needed to do (courtesy of an old friend), and of course, his handgun.
There was no mystery-mobile, question-bike, or little question mark shaped boomerangs and explosives for him. He clearly wasn't as well funded as these other heroes. But that didn't matter, to his mind all you needed to be a vigilante was skill and determination. The former he had a great deal of, and his amount of the latter was astounding.
Further investigation on the web in general, gifted him with the addresses of several offices and docks that were owned or operated by "Inzerillo Shipping Incorporated" But seeing as there were several of those, Kenny elected to break into the Inzerillo home to search for clues there. If he could get his hands on any documents or crack open any computer files, he'd probably find something of use.
If what Loretta had let slip was true, and her father was conducting some big business as of late, then there would likely be something lying around which would point him in the right direction.
Finding anything incriminating also depended on whether there was actually anything to find. Although that tip he'd gotten from Barbara Gordon certainly pointed towards it. And considering who the redhead's father was, Kenny could probably rely on that.
Later that night, when Karen and the Dupuis' had long since gone to bed, Kenny pulled on his costume and slipped out into the cold Gotham night.
The midnight air was cold and still, though as Mysterion left the wealthy residences and moved into the dense inner city, the atmosphere changed. The quiet night grew louder, the cars on the main streets still rushing to and fro. The smells shifted as well, from mostly fresh air to a heavier, polluted musk.
He began to ascend to higher and higher heights as well, leaving the roofs of those detached two-story houses behind, and climbing to the tops of skyscrapers. Flowing through the shadows of the city, vaulting ledges, flitting from perch to perch, crossing perilous gaps and canyon-like drops. This was familiar territory; the elegant and efficient traversal of a city by foot. Something Mysterion was very adept at.
When he reached the neon lights of the entertainment district, he took a moment to orient himself and locate his destination. After several minutes of adapting, the phantasm of a teenager placed himself on a fire escape of building across from his target.
With his shrewd eyes, Mysterion examined the penthouse, where it sat high above the other buildings in the area. Then he withdrew his grapple and after aiming for a moment, he began to spin the hook in his hand. Whirling it around in a circle, loosely holding onto the loop of cord in the other hand. After building up enough momentum in the spin, Mysterion launched the hook out and up with a powerful throw.
It flew skywards across the gap, reaching the pinnacle of its arc and slowing down. For a second Mysterion thought it might not reach the balcony, but it managed to stretch just far enough to land over the stone ledge.
Giving a heavy tug, Mysterion tested the line. It pulled taught, and after a few more yanks he was confident it would not budge. Though Mysterion grimaced as he remembered how he'd been painfully wrong before. Regardless, taking a step up onto the edge of the fire escape on which he nested, the teenage vigilante took a calming breath, and dropped off of the side.
Falling fast with the wind billowing his cape behind him, Mysterion swung across the street. His cord held, and after a short journey suspended far above the street, he hit a wall, hard… The contact would've cowed a normal kid, maybe broken some bones, but to Mysterion it was little more than a bump. Steadying himself against the brick of the building, he planted his feet on the side of the building and began to walk himself up the side. Slowly, Mysterion progressed up the surface, making sure to avoid the windows with lights on and so forth.
After a strenuous climb, Mysterion reached the top where he could haul himself over the edge and onto the Inzerillo's penthouse balcony. Not before peeking over the ledge first to check for guards though.
He saw nothing but a large open space, adorned with potted plants and large enough to contain a small swimming pool. On the opposite side from him were some french windows, and a wall of glass that looked in on what must be the family's lounge. It was all dark thankfully, with the only light being that which shone down from the moon, or carried over from other high rise buildings nearby.
He pulled himself over the ledge without fuss, and began to draw his grappling rope up from where it hung down the side. After recoiling the hook's cord, Mysterion stood up and quietly moved around the edge of balcony to the doors which led inside. When at them, he debated trying his luck with the handle. He wasn't expecting them to be unlocked, but they could very well be alarmed.
Taking a gamble, Mysterion twisted the door handle and unsurprisingly found it to be locked. But by a stroke of luck, alarms didn't start blaring. At least not any audible ones. At this, Mysterion withdrew from his belt a small set of lock picks and set to work.
Crouching at the door, occasionally glancing around in case he would be interrupted, the shadowy vigilante worked at cracking open the doors. Mysterion had been doing this since before he donned the cape and hood, so it was less than a minute later that the door clicked open.
He slowly made his way inside, sticking to the edge of the open room and keeping to only the deepest shadows. Shallow silhouettes were the only things that hinted at his presence, tracing across the patches of light whenever Mysterion had to pass by a window.
In the utter silence of this sleeping household, Mysterion moved out of the large living room, and into the bowels of the home. He entered first into a long dark hallway, pictures and portraits lined the walls, and vases of flamboyant flowers stood on little tables at various intervals.
The corridor gave off a feeling of homely warmth, even in the dead of night, and as Mysterion crept down the hall he stopped at one of it's many doors. Now he needed to find where Loretta's father, Enrico Inzerillo, kept his work documents. An office would be the most likely place. But in his search for that one room, he needed to be careful not to disturb the sleeping residents of the house's other rooms.
As he gently pressed his ear to the door, Mysterion's mouth fell open a little, his eyes widening as he realised the house may not be entirely asleep. A series of quiet moans came from behind the door, with the occasionally muffled word being groaned out.
Not wanting to disturb what was probably Mr. and Mrs. Inzerillo, Mysterion schooled his expression back from the mild surprise, and continued to the next door.
This door warranted no investigation, as it bore a pretty little plaque that read in flowery handwriting, 'Loretta's room'. The next door down was one Mysterion had to open, as no sound came from within and nothing indicated where it led. Peeking through the crack, his keen eyes picked out a bedroom. Clothes strewn on the floor and a heavily breathing lump lying under the bedsheets. So Mysterion closed the door again, and moved on to the next room.
This one was locked, so with some quick lock pick work he granted himself access. Pushing it open a crack he looked inside, and found this room to be the one he was looking for.
A desk with a computer on it occupied one end of the room, and a series of filing cabinets lined the left hand wall. Asides from this it was fairly featureless, with only one, large window behind the desk.
Breaking out his flashlight, Mysterion got to work. He had an excellent eye in the dark, but he'd reached his visions limits here, even with moonlight flowing through the window. Slowly and silently he began leafing through the cabinets, but after about the third impenetrably written shipping report, Mysterion moved over to the desktop computer.
Taking out a small USB drive, Mysterion pushed the hacking gadget into a port, and set to breaking into the data on the machine. Getting by the password was easy, and navigating the information held on it was just as simple.
Within minutes he'd found what he needed, dates for several incoming shipments throughout the week. None of the emails said what exactly was being shipped, but he'd known Inzerillo liked to keep things above board. Which was okay; he had times, dates and locations.
One place mentioned more frequently was pier fifteen over on the East Side, which was where an inordinate amount of whatever it was, was being transported to. When it reached there it seemed like the shipment was sent somewhere else, but again it never said where.
Feeling he had enough, Mysterion withdrew the USB stick, stowed it away and shut down the desktop. Smirking at a job well done, the mysterious teenager went to leave the room, flicking off his flashlight and reattaching it to his belt.
Quickly retracing his path, Mysterion reached the balcony and withdrew his grapple once more. Throwing the grapple down made it almost impossible for the hook to gain purchase on something, but the building he'd used to get across was the closest in height to the penthouse, and provided the best chance.
This worked to his success, as Mysterion managed to re-cross the urban chasm with ease. Leaving almost no sign that he had ever been there, and taking with him only information.
—?M?—
The next few nights he spent staking out a warehouse in the East Side docks. Pier 15, the place where a large shipment of something was supposedly coming in.
He'd familiarised himself with the warehouse itself and the blocks around it, preparing himself for when the shipment would arrive. Then he would most likely just pacify them using his favoured tactics. Taking down the majority of them using stealth, and dealing with the rest in a good old fashioned beat down.
Mysterion wasn't afraid to use firearms either, even if the handgun at his side was mostly a last resort for himself. The ultimate escape, suicide. Except for Kenny it wasn't the final resort. He would come back from it a short time later, evading death and getting out of impossible situations in the process. Leaving no one the wiser.
Soon enough the night of the shipment arrived, and it started with a contingent of armed guards setting up around the warehouse.
Secluded in the rafters of the metal roofed building, Mysterion watched as they arranged themselves. Four sentries in total, positioned on catwalks that ran around the edge of the relatively sparse warehouse. Then there were three armed men on the ground, all escorting the man Mysterion recognised as Enrico Inzerillo.
They waited around for a while, until a boat arrived at the dock outside. Mysterious shifted his position to see as the shipment was unloaded. It included numerous, differently sized and unmarked wooden crates, along with two large metal shipping containers of the kind you would see being transported via freight train.
When everything was delivered, Mysterion expected the deal to go down. But still nothing happened. The men waited around, Enrico standing there in his pristine suit, kicking his feet and looking anxious.
After a while the main doors to the building opened, and a new group entered. Looking vastly different from Inzerillo and his men, seeing as they were wearing druidic robes of teal and beige. These robes obscured their whole bodies, covered their hands completely, and enshrouded their faces in shadow.
Mysterion's face twisted in displeasure when he saw them. He did not recognise them specifically, or their regalia, but Kenny knew enough to identify them as cultists of some sort.
Inzerillo stood up straighter at the arrival of the three, and immediately greeted them. "Good evening, sirs. How are you on this fine, fine evening?"
Clearly nervous, Enrico bounced slightly on his feet, the pudgy little man still not feeling confident, even though he had two men armed with assault rifles by his side. With other armed guards stationed around the place.
Mysterion had figured this night would be a regular drug bust, or something similar like an arms deal that he'd have to put a stop to. But the arrival of heavily robed people, whom Inzerillo seemed to fear with some magnitude, changed things. Now he needed to find out who these three people were, and what exactly was in those containers.
At Inzerillo's greeting, the three robed figures stared silently back at him, unnaturally still. After an awkward silence, the nervous Inzerillo suggested. "Perhaps you'd like to look through today's shipment now? Pick out any that catch your eye?"
After another uncomfortable silence, Enrico gestured to his henchmen, who began to open the first shipping container. Bringing their guns to bear, one of them shouted something in a foreign language. At his shout, a crowd of beleaguered, malnourished people began to shamble out of the metal box.
The armed guards barked a few orders and the people were formed into a row. Each one of them silent and defeated.
The robed three then began to slowly make their way along the line, occasionally pausing and examining one of the captives. While moving along and inspecting the people like they were some kind of animal, the robed figures took several out of the line. Then when they'd finished perusing the three simply looked at each other, and without words seemed to agree on something. Finally turning to Inzerillo, who had been fidgeting in barely constrained fear, and nodding once at him.
"Okay!" The short mobster exclaimed, relieved. Gesturing once more to his guards, he continued. "Boys why don't you, get the rest of them back in the container, and help our three, friends, get their chosen few into… whatever it is they're transporting them with!"
As the robed three led their chosen captives out a side door, flanked by three of Inzerillo's men, Mysterion had to make a choice. Either remain here and put a stop to this deal, apprehending Inzerillo in the process. Or tail the robed buyers.
As much as it pained him to leave these poor people to their fate, he went with the latter. The appearance of cultists did not signal anything good, and considering his dream a few nights ago Mysterion would be hard pressed to ignore this chance.
But as the doors to the shipping container closed, sealing the remaining captives inside, and as the side door opened for the buyers to leave… All the lights went out.
—?M?—