Author's note:
There is a six month time skip between this chapter and the previous one. In this time, Felix has babysat Barbara enough that she claimed him as her default best friend.
--
Chapter 3: Curious Cats and Killer Crocs
"What are you doing here so early, Ben?" Lieutenant Gordon asks me as I finish the scrambled eggs I am cooking and slide them onto the waiting plate. "It's seven in the morning."
"Big Barbara told me that you and Bitty Barbie are too dumb to be trusted to feed yourselves while she is gone for the week and James had to leave early for his class' field trip to Wayne Enterprises," I say. "Apparently, she had even odds that you would either burn down the house or just forget."
"That was one time," the lieutenant mutters.
"Yay, we are incompetent!" Barbara cheers as she eats a plate of pancakes and bacon. "I knew my best friend would come in handy eventually."
"Yeah, it just took me half a year," I scoff as I roll my eyes. "You both should just count yourselves lucky that my girlfriend was busy so that I had the morning free. By the way, do you have any idea where I am getting assigned? My probationary six months as a standard beat cop is going to be over after today. I was hoping you might have heard through the grapevine which department I am going to be working for."
"It was a hard fight against the lieutenants from Vice and Narcotics, but I was able to snag you and Montoya from this year's batch of rookies," he says. "Come tomorrow, you will be a fully fledged officer in the 12th Precint's Homicide Division."
"Sweet!" Barbara cheers again. "That means you two can go into work together every day and Ben can make us breakfast!"
"Barbara, your mom would be heartbroken if you didn't like the food she makes us," Lieutenant Gordon says.
"I called her and she said that Ben can make breakfast whenever he wants," Barbara counters. "Apparently, she is happy to let him take a turn feeding 'the savages,' as she said. Come on, try it! It is so good!"
"Fine," Lieutenant Gordon says before he picks up a breakfast sausage and takes a bite from it. Then, he turns to me and rests a hand on my shoulder. "You are officially adopted."
"I would prefer it if you weren't willing to adopt me, anineteen year old man, for the sole reason of having me become a live in chef," I comment. "You probably need some caffeine to help your brain turn on."
The lieutenant pours himself a cup and sips it. I watch in confusion as a single tear rolls down his cheek as he looks into the distance. "I have dreamed of this perfect cup since I was a young boy," he says.
Barbara sneaks over in time to pour herself some and take a drink as well. A tear rolls down her cheek as well as she gazes into the distance. "I have dreamed of this perfect cup since I was a young boy," she says.
"So this is why she was so worried," I mutter as I pinch the bridge of my nose. "They share the same brain cell in the morning."
--
"So kid, how does it feel to be on your last day of being a rank and file beat cop?" Ferguson asks me. "Everyone in the precinct knows you are Gordon's golden boy, even if you aren't in Homicide. Hell, he probably trusts you more than half the people in his damn department."
Ferguson, the older patrol officer I was assigned to over my probationary period, had helped mentor me as a rookie cop and show me the ropes. It might not have been anything extraordinary, but he taught me how to improve the way I did the job. His years on the force made him a natural at reading people's body language and predicting how a situation would go. He knew just how to defuse a situation and help everyone keep a cool head, even if it was some guys drunk out of their mind. The only reason he never advanced up the ranks to management or became a detective was because he preferred to help normal people in their normal lives. He didn't want to deal with statistics or sting operations when he could be in a patrol car instead.
"Feels good," I say with a smile as I scan my eyes out the window as we drive. Ferguson had always taught me to keep a lookout for trouble even if I was relaxed. "Although, I still can't make it to drinks tonight. I know you veterans like to buy us new guys a round when we graduate from probation, but my hands are tied."
"That girlfriend of yours?" Ferguson asks with a chuckle as he drives the car. "I'd like it if you showed up, but I know you would be a damn fool if you blew off a dame like that for a bunch of half dead fogies who just want an excuse to get drunk."
"Don't get crazy," I say. "We both know you are way more than half dead."
The older man laughs at the joke as we keep driving on our usual patrol. "I am going to miss your dumb ass when you head off to Homicide," he says. "Don't worry though. I will get paired up with another wet behind the ears rookie before you know it."
"I just feel bad for the new guy who is going to have to deal with you," I reply.
"Why you!" Ferguson says as he reaches over to smack me.
"Ah!" I exclaim with a laugh. "Reverse elder abuse!"
We both end up laughing as we finish out our day. No matter how much I mess with him, I am going to miss the old fart. He was a great guide in learning the ropes of becoming a cop. The next guy who gets him as a training officer is a lucky man.
--
"Guess who?" a voice asks me as a pair of hands cover my eyes.
"Oh, is it my secret mistress that I am hiding from my girlfriend?" I ask before one of the hands is pulled back and I feel a finger jab up under my ribs. "Ow! Correction, is it my lovely and beautiful girlfriend who I adore more than anyone else in the world?"
"Good, you remember that much at least," she replies with a smile.
I turn around and pull her into a kiss which she reciprocates as she wraps her arms around my neck. I break the kiss after a minute and admire the beautiful woman smiling at me.
Talia Head was the complete package. Smart, beautiful, kind, and mischievous all rolled up into one. I met her when Renee took me out for drinks on my birthday a few months back and we hit it off. She worked for an overseas import-export company that was considering expanding into Gotham. It was her job to research the city's prospects for the business. This just meant a lot of reading for the most part and meetings every now and then. At a certain point, she just started staying at my place after spending the night so much.
Thank God that Gojo didn't constantly barge in and give a bad impression.
"So, I hope you had a good day at work," she says. "Did it turn out like you hoped?"
"You are looking at the newest member of Homicide," I reply with a grin before scooping her up in my arms and spinning her around. "I thought we could celebrate a little because of the occasion."
"Sounds perfect," she says. "I picked up some food from that store in the building, Geto's General Grocer. I was hoping you would make another culinary masterpiece for me."
"It would be my honor," I say. "My incredible girlfriend deserves nothing but the best."
"Chop chop," she says as she pats my arm. "That food won't cook itself."
"Of course," I reply with a chuckle.
--
(Talia Al Ghul POV)
As she watched Ben cook in the kitchen, she couldn't help the smile on her face. She never dreamed she would be living like this. It was so domestic, so ordinary. It was a life unlike anything she had experienced before coming to Gotham. She never imagined this is what would follow what was supposed to be a one night stand. Now here she was, happily enjoying a normal night with her boyfriend like any other woman. With him, she could just be Talia, instead of the Demon's daughter.
Her phone began to ring and she realized that her father was seemingly called by the thought.
"I need to take this call real quick," she tells Ben. "It is my boss. He probably wants an update."
"Take all the time you need," he assures her. "I still need to finish up the steaks and the rest of the sides. Your work is more important than watching me cook."
She wanted to disagree, but she ultimately just nods and walks off to a nearby room for privacy. Once she is sure Ben is out of the range of hearing, she answers the call.
"Status report," he says curtly. "Have you finished your analysis of Gotham's factions?"
"Yes, Father," she answers. "I compiled my findings and sent them to you this morning."
"I want to hear your analysis directly," he says. "What is the current state of Gotham's power balance?"
"Since the collapse of the peace stabilized by the Wayne family, numerous groups have gained control on portions of Gotham," she says. "The GCPD is largely corrupt with many of its officers under the control of various criminal organizations. The current commissioner, Loeb, is under the employ of the Falcone crime family. They are the longest running crime family in Gotham, but have lost prominence in recent years with the emergence of new competitors."
"The two most notable are Oswald Cobblepot and Roman Sionis," she continues. "Cobblepot, also known as Penguin, is responsible for the gambling, prostitution, and black market sales in Gotham. His stronghold is the Iceburg Lounge, a casino at the edge of the harbor, and his territory consists of the region around the docks. Sionis, who goes by the name Black Mask, controls arms dealing, drugs, and human trafficking. His territory is centered on the business district with his primary stronghold being the building that houses his penthouse apartment."
"Any major players with known abilities?" her father asks.
"Cobblepot and Sionis are rumored to have Devil Fruit abilities, but nothing that can be confirmed without overt action," she answers. "Sionis employs the majority of Gotham's exotic powers with Cobblepot taking second place. The Falcone family and their affiliates rely on manpower and contain a cumulative number that exceeds the combined forces of Sionis and Cobblepot."
"Any notable bounties?" he inquires.
"Sionis, Cobblepot, and Falcone all have bounties, as well as their major lieutenants and stronger enforcers," she says. Falcone is valued at 141 million dollars, Cobblepot at 325 million, and Sionis at 517 million. The only bounties in Gotham are possessed by independents, excluding the two in the GCPD."
"The GCPD has members with bounties?" he asks.
"Yes, it appears this was done after a failed kidnapping attempt," she answers as she keeps any emotion out of her voice. "They are for a homicide lieutenant and one of his officers. They are just 10 and 5 million, but there have been no actions in the past six months that are notable."
"Where does the Court of Owls stand in all of this?" he questions.
"The Court of Owls is largely inactive barring the rare event where they interact amongst themselves for social posturing," she states. "They are a nonfactor in their current stance."
"And what of the magical community?" he inquires. "Those who delve into the arcane and occult often congregate on Gotham for one reason or another."
"They are in a state of loose disarray," she informs him. "There is no clear leadership in the community and this has made them disorganized. This is also exacerbated by a shift in the city's magic as of late. According to one of the weaker members, there has been an emergence in spirits formed from negative emotional energy in recent months. This seems to be fueled by the prevalence of such energies in Gotham. The sightings have been scattered, but occuring with regularity. A rumor is going around that someone is culling their numbers and keeping them as a minor issue for the moment."
Her father hums in thought. "That is sufficient, Talia," he says. "I need you to return tonight. There is a matter of importance I must task you with."
"Is it important enough to alter my departure time so suddenly?" she asks. "The original plan was for me to arrange safehouses for the League and return in two months."
"Yes," he says simply, but his voice did not invite discussion. It was an order, plain and simple. "I will send another agent to finish your work instead. Is there an issue with this?"
"Of course not, Father," she replies quickly. "I live to serve your will. I shall make arrangements to depart Gotham tonight."
"See that you do," he says before hanging up.
She stares at the wall for a moment after the call concludes. This time had been too good to be true. It had to end eventually. She just thought she would have more time.
"Hey, Talia," Ben says as he shakes her shoulder. "Is everything alright? You were kind of zoned out when I came to tell you the food was ready."
"Of course," she says with a practiced smile. "Let's eat."
This would be the last time she would likely ever see Ben. She wanted to make sure she cherished these remaining few hours before they were gone forever.
--
(Felix Benjamin Faust POV)
I lay on my back as Talia splays across my chest. My weary lungs heave with exertion after the physical marathon I just made it through. I am lucky my body is getting stronger through my training as a sorcerer, otherwise I would not have managed to get all the way through that.
"That was incredible," I mutter.
"You were more than adequate yourself, beloved," Talia chuckles tiredly before she seems to freeze up. It takes me a moment to realize why until I remember what she said. It was the first time either of us had said the 'L word' before. I don't think she meant to say it out loud, but it must have slipped out from how relaxed she was.
"I did not plan on saying that," she finally mutters. "Especially not tonight."
"What is it?" I ask. "It's okay of you aren't ready to say that. I am fine waiting if you need to."
"No, it's just...," she tries to say before trailing off.
"Just what?" I ask.
"I have been called back by my boss," she says. "I am flying back first thing in the morning. He needs me on a new project and he said that it is urgent."
"When are you going to be back in Gotham?" I ask. However, her silence answers the question for me. "Oh."
"I didn't know how to tell you," she whispers. "I didn't want to ruin our last night together."
"It's okay," I tell her. "You didn't ruin anything. If tonight is the last night I get to spend with you, it was perfect. I have no regrets. First thing in the morning, I can drive you down to the airport and kiss you goodbye before you get on your plane. Then, if you ever find yourself back in Gotham again, I would love to get a drink with you again."
"Why are you so okay with this?" she asks. "Aren't you sad? Angry?"
"Why would I feel like that when I have all of these great memories with you?" I reply. "I had a feeling this wouldn't last forever, but that doesn't mean I have to be sad that it is gone. I prefer to be happy that I got to spend this much time with the wonderful Talia Head."
"Al Ghul," she says. "My last name is Al Ghul."
"You still find new ways to surprise me, Talia Al Ghul," I say. "How about we get some sleep so we can wake up early enough that I can make us some breakfast?"
"That sounds perfect," she mutters as she closes her eyes and falls asleep on my chest.
I let myself drift off as I watch her sleeping face. I try to ingrain every detail into my memory so I never forget it. I want to be able to recognize her even after a hundred years. It is the least I can do after she put up with me for so long. She deserves better than a fuck up like me.
--
My phone starts ringing and I groggily open my eyes. We had shifted in our sleep, so I ended up spooning her. I roll out from behind her and grab my phone off of the counter to see that it is Lieutenant Gordon. With as little sound or shaking as possible, I slip out of the bed and walk to the bedroom's adjoining bathroom before I close the door.
"What's up, Lieutenant?" I ask after answering the call. "It's kind of late."
"I need you to get to Gotham National Bank immediately," he says. "A bank robbery went sideways and it turned into a hostage situation."
"I thought we were Homicide," I say. "What are we doing at an active hostage situation?"
"It is all hands of deck across the city," he informs me. "Territorial disputes have spiked up along every gang border in the city. The robbers probably chose right now for that reason. Since they have hardly any manpower to spare, they are calling in as many bodies as they can manage. Can you make it down here? I don't know how long this will take to resolve."
"Of course, Lieutenant," I say. "Anything you need."
I end the call before leaving the bathroom and grabbing some clean clothes. As I slip them on, Talia wakes up and looks at me.
"Hey, is something wrong?" she asks. "Where are you going this late?"
"The lieutenant called," I say as I zip up my pants. "He needs me to clock in some overtime with this hostage thing going on. They probably just need me to help supplement the cops maintaining the perimeter. I will be back in a couple of hours at the most. I promise I will be back with plenty of time for some snuggles before breakfast and the airport."
"You better, mister," Talia says before she wraps the blankets around herself and goes back to sleep. I lean over and kiss her on the head which causes her to smile as she drifts off to dreamland.
I grab my off-duty pistol from a cabinet drawer and load it with a fresh magazine. I chamber the round before I flip the safety and slide it into the holster at the small of my back. After I slip on my jacket, I was about to leave the bedroom when I stop myself at the doorway.
I look back at the bed and take in the sight of Talia's smiling face as she sleeps. Some part of me, deep down inside, knows that this is the last time I will ever see her. I have no idea how but I can feel that my instinct is right. Once I leave, she will be gone.
So, for just a moment, I mourn the loss. I really liked coming home to her these past couple months.
But all too soon, I step away and close the door behind me. This is the life I am meant to live. I have known that for a long time. Hold on for as long as you can and let them go when the time comes.
That doesn't matter now though. I have a job to do and it won't wait around for me to get my shit together. Gordon called me because he trusts me to pull through when he asks. I am not going to let him down tonight.
--
"What do you need me to do, Lieutenant?" I ask once I find him in the crowd of officers surrounding the bank. "Do I help man the barricades and keep out civilians?"
"No, you are with me," he replies. "I need someone I can trust with me for a meeting with the top brass in charge of this shit show. It helps me seems more credible to the captains when I have someone backing me up. Bullock would typically help, but if I know him after all these years, he is probably passed out in a pub by this time of night."
"I don't know what I could really do on that front, but sure," I say as he leads me into a command tent. There were several lieutenants and captains from the nearby precincts, including ours. Captain Montgomery was in the process of talking with another captain when he sees us walk in.
"Gordon, nice of you to join us," he says. "Who's the kid?"
"Faust is one of my officers," Lieutenant Gordon replies. "He's new, but he has a good head on his shoulders. I trust him."
"Good enough for me," Montgomery says. "Let's get the briefing started. The robbery started at 11:40 pm when a group of gunmen took the civilains in the bank hostage. They took out the cameras inside, grouped up the hostages where they can easily control them, and have been staying out of sightlines for snipers. These guys are organized, but that comes from who is leading them."
Montgomery taps on a mugshot of a woman with short black hair, a bruised eye, and a split lip grinning at the camera. "Selina Kyle is calling the shots," he says. "With the nickname Catwoman, she is wanted by the FBI and Interpol for robberies in just about every major city in the US and more than a fair share of those abroad. FBI office wanted to take point, but they are as spread as thin as the GCPD tonight. If that wasn't bad enough, she brought her muscle."
He points at another photo of a man covered in green scales with jagged teeth. "Waylon Jones, but he goes by Killer Croc these days," Montgomery tells us. "He is strong enough to punch through plain concrete and can still crater it when it is reinforced. His scales can tank small arms fire without a scratch while high calibers fail to get through the muscle underneath. Apparently his bite strength is powerful enough to crush steel. He is for lack of a better word, a monster."
"While both are Gotham born and raised, they have always kept their activities out of the city for the most past," he continues. "If they are breaking that trend, it means they either have a line on something in the bank worth the risk or someone is paying them enough to take a chance. The rest of the crew seems to be made up of standard hired muscle, but we should be prepared for any surprises."
"Any plans on using SWAT to make a play inside of the bank?" Lieutenant Gordon asks.
"We don't have the manpower or a plan," Montgomery sighs. "Kyle seems to have covered her bases and ensured that any access point is rigged to blow if we try to use them for an entrance. The soonest that Demolitions can get here to start working is in twenty minutes."
"Have they made any demands?" another captain asks. "They typically make demands, even if it is just to buy time."
"Standard requests," he replies. "Fully fuelled helicopter, a waiting plane at the airport, and two million dollars in cash. Kyle is just messing with us though. She never depends on a way out that she hasn't already planned in explicit detail. Even when law enforcement has caught her conspirators, she and Croc always manage to slip away."
"Can't you just get in from their exit?" I ask despite my instincts telling me I should just stay quiet. Everyone turns to me and it takes more than a little effort to not shrink under their gaze.
"What do you mean, Faust?" Montgomery asks.
"Well, you said she always has an exit prepared," I say. "I really doubt she would give away what it is by making it at the last second. The best bet would be that it is already made and waiting for her to finish stealing whatever she is there to steal. I mean, I doubt an eight foot tall crocodile man just walked into the bank and no one freaked out ahead of time. Kyle probably got him in the same way she plans to get out."
"If you have this all figured out, then where exactly is this escape plan?" a severe looking blond lieutenant asks. She seems to have it out for me and I have no clue why. "If your idea is so solid, you should be able to say where it is. Or are you just a kid James brought to inflate his ego?"
"You are one to talk, Madeleine," Lieutenant Gordon replies. "Your ego is so big that the GCPD had to decommission the blimps since they didn't have enough room to fly."
"You better not move," she fires back. "That caterpillar on your lip might fall off."
"There is a reason people say we make a good pair," my lieutenant counters. "I'm the ginger, and you are missing a soul."
"Gordon, Wunch, that is enough," Montgomery says. "Faust, you might have a point, but we can't waste what little manpower we have on a wild goose chase trying to find an exit that might not exist."
"Yes, sir," I reply. I knew I was onto something, but I couldn't make the final jump to figure out what.
"We can't afford to let out guard down," Montgomery says to the assembled leaders. "These two both have government sanctioned bounties. Kyle is valued at 21 million dollars and Croc is worth 13 million. I need this to be kept quiet. I know how some officers get when they hear about a bounty. It would be easier if members of the police couldn't redeem bounties, but this is Gotham. Nothing works like it should. Let's do our best to keep those hostages safe."
With Montgomery's briefing over, Gordon nods to the side and we leave the tent. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and pops one out before offering it to me. I pull one out as well and stick it between my lips before I borrow his lighter. With a quick flick, I ignite the tip of my cancerstick and take in a deep breath of harmful carcinogens.
"I thought your girlfriend didn't like you smoking," Lieutenant Gordon remarks as he puffs on his own and watches the bustling movement of the officers.
"I thought your family didn't appreciate it either," I reply simply as I follow the paths of the cigarette smoke wafting in the air with my eyes.
"Touché," he says. "It was a good idea, the whole escape plan thing. The captain is right though. We don't have enough guys to spare on a long shot since we don't even know if it is true."
"Yeah, I hear you," I say. "It was just a gut instinct to be completely honest. I don't even know why I said it out loud."
"Don't feel too bad," Lieutenant Gordon replies. "A good cop needs to be able to trust their gut when it counts."
I was lost in thought for a moment until I see the burnt ash on the tip of my cigarette fall off. My eyes track it as it falls until it lands on a circular metal cover embedded in the ground. The thought that had been scratching at the back of my mind finally clicks into place.
"Hey, lieutenant," I say as I bump his shoulder to get his attention. "Quick question. Where do alligators live in the city?"
"Sewers, I guess," he replies, not seeing what I am getting at.
"How about we see if crocodiles do the same thing?" I ask with a grin.
--
(Jim Gordon POV)
He walks back into the command tent only for Captain Montgomery to call him over.
"Jim, where did Faust run off to?" the captain asks. "I thought he was with you."
"Oh, he wasn't feeling too good," he replies. "Between you and me, he is going to be indisposed for a while. He has a long meeting with some plumbing."
--
(Felix Benjamin Faust POV)
I land on the wet concrete of the sewer tunnel after I drop from the ladder. Pulling a flashlight out of my pocket, I click it on and shine it around. The only sign of movement was a rat running away and the only sound was the dripping of water in pipes.
"Hey, Michael," I say out loud. "Can you help me out here?"
"What is it now?" the fallen angel asks as he opens an eye and generates a mouth. "I was trying to sleep."
"Can you sense if there is anyone in these tunnels?" I ask. "You ability to sense Cursed Energy is more refined than mine. There is so much down here that it muddles my senses enough that it is hard to pick up humans."
"Why would I make this easier on you?" Michael replies. "Take it as a learning opportunity. This is your deal, not mine. I only help when there is a threat like Gojo coming to permakill me too. I can always find a new body if this doesn't work out. Don't talk to me again unless it is something important. This fucking sewer is making my eye hurt."
With that unhelpful response, he closes his eye and the mouth fades back into smooth skin. I knew I shouldn't have trusted the literal demon to help me. After a quick sigh, I make my way through the sewer tunnels toward where I think the bank should be.
Gotham's sewer system is horribly designed and contradictory as shit. I should know since I have spent many a night scouring its depths for Cursed Spirits that have begun emerging throughout the city. Gotham is practically saturated with Cursed Energy, so it is easy for them to spawn virtually anywhere. They tend to conglomerate in the worse areas of town like the Narrows or in the sewer sytem since them preferred the inherently trashy environment. It has been hard making time for hunts recently between my job and Talia, but I have done a decent job with killing any that I have found.
The main reason I can think of for why the layout is so terrible is because it has been upgraded, redesigned, closed off, rerouted, and forgotten more times than you can count by dozens of neglectful administrations in one of the most corrupt cities in the world. This is a clusterfuck of epic proportions that has led to an abomination of a sewer system. It is a miracle it is functional at all. Most of the subway lines in the city had to be installed on aboveground rails since it was far too unpredictable below the surface. Any construction crew digging a new tunnel could easily punch through into an abandoned sewer line from a century ago. Most of the records are either incomplete, fakes, lost, or no one bothered to record it in the first place.
Still, I had gotten a feel for the interconnected web of concrete, brick, and iron that weaves its way below the city streets. It let me navigate with relative success when paired with my Cursed Energy senses to track down Cursed Spirits. However, this is relatively useless since I was trying to find non-sorcerers. It also didn't help that any sounds I could pick up with Cursed Energy enhanced hearing were so distorted with echoes that I couldn't tell where they had come from.
It was largely a process of trial and error to get closer to the area under the bank as I wound my way closer. As I suspected, I started to hear more consistent sounds of human life as I approached.
"Is she done already?" a man asks. "We already looted most of the safety deposit boxes. It feels like she is getting greedy."
"Greed is good," another man says. "We are about to make off with a fortune. Even with our cuts being small, we are set for life after this."
"We should be getting paid more for this," a new voice grumbles. "We are doing most of the heavy lifting getting this stuff out of here. I would take a turn with that sweet ass of hers as repayment."
"Don't even joke about that, you idiot," the first man says. "Do you have any idea what would happen if she heard that? Hell, you would be lucky if it was just her. If Croc heard that, he would tear you to pieces. Hell, he might even eat you!"
Since I finally closed the distance separating us, I heft a rock that I had picked up a minute ago and toss it to the side. They all look in the direction of the clattering stone while I burst forward at them. They don't even have time to react or call for help before I slam my fist into the side of the first's heads, my foot into the stomach of the second, and spin in time to send an elbow into the back of the third's skull.
They all crumple to the ground without a fight. Even the guy I just kicked was essentially down for the count. Cursed Energy reinforcement is some pretty handy stuff.
I unzip one of the bags they were guarding and sift through it to see it is filled with jewelry, bearer bonds, cash, gems, and the like. If what they said was true, then they had been cleaning out the safety deposit boxes of everything valuable. That only leaves whatever was the main target. From what I heard about her, I doubt Selina Kyle would do all of this without a particular prize in mind.
I step out of the way and grab the end of the whip that would have cracked against my skull. Well, speak of the devil and she will appear. Selina Kyle was standing across from me holding the whip that almost gave me a concussion. She was dressed in all black with a leather jacket, jeans, boots, gloves, and a pair of goggles resting on her head that looked like cat ears.
"Sorry, but I don't let even my girlfriend use a whip on me," I quip with a grin as I look at the cat themed thief. "But I would be up for some bondage play. I have a shiny pair of handcuffs you can try on. Don't worry, I'll be gentle."
"I can work with you having a girlfriend, but I prefer to be the one in control," she replies with a smile of her own. "That is a dealbreaker for me."
"Oh well," I say. "We can always have a different kind of fun."
"You read my mind," she answers before she presses a button on the handle of the whip.
Electricity courses through wires weaved into the whip and I feel the current run through my body like a taser. If I wasn't reinforcing myself with Cursed Energy, I would have passed out immediately. As it stands, I wasn't out of the game.
I grab onto the whip with another hand before yanking with all of my strength. She is surprised by the sudden burst of power and is thrown off her feet due to her grip on the whip. However, she releases an instant later and drops into a roll. She lands in a crouch and proceeds to unleash a sweep kick at my ankles.
I hop over the kick only for her to transition into a crouching back kick that strikes me in the chest and sends me flying back. I tumble to the ground before I stop and pick myself up.
"You aren't too shabby," Selina says. "Most men aren't very fast on their feet. This might be fun after all."
"Come on, kitty cat," I say as I bounce on my feet. "Let's dance. I have some moves of my own."
"Kitty's got claws," she replies with a smile as silver claws flick out of the fingertips of her gloves. Then, she blitzes forward and the fight really starts.
I dodge slash after slash from those claws from her gloves as she mixes in several kicks to break my stance and make an opening. She was going to have to do better than this if she wanted to beat me. I have religiously used the hotel provided group training classes and sparred against some of the Consortium Contractors staying at the Six Eyes Inn. After fighting an actual werewolf once, she is far from the first opponent with claws I have had to fight.
I just wish she wouldn't keep using her tricks. Caltrops and bolas were indiscriminately used in the flow of the fight as she tried anything she could to trip me up. However, I matched her blow for blow as we tried to overcome the other in a perfectly balanced battle. I had the advantage in speed and power, but she outstripped me when it comes to experience, technique, and flexibility. At times, it felt less like a fight and more like a dance. I even saw her grinning as I kept up.
This was quickly brought to a close by a massive shape coming from the side that I barely blocked in time. Even then, I was thrown clean off of my feet and I crash into the wall of the tunnel hard enough for it to ring my bell. As I shake my head to clear my vision, I hear Selina talking with whatever truck hit me.
"I had it under control, Waylon," she says. "You didn't have to interfere."
"That's not what I saw," a gravelly voice replies. "We are already behind schedule. You don't have time to play with a cop."
"Wait, he is a cop?" she asks in surprise. "I thought he was a bounty hunter or something."
"He smells like cop," the other voice, Waylon apparently, responds.
"Hey, are you a cop?" Selina calls out. "You are still moving, so you can probably hear me. You a detective or something?"
"I am just an officer with Homicide," I say with a groan as I push myself off of the wall. "I will still arrest whatever truck just hit me for police brutality once I stop seeing stars."
"You know police brutality is when a police hits someone else, right?" she asks.
"Whatever," I say as I wave off the question. "I would advise you to surrender before I hit my second wind. It'll be any second now."
"Just curious, what's your name?" she calls out. "I want to know before Waylon beats the shit out of you and you black out."
"Faust," I say. "Felix Faust. My friends call me Ben, but you can call me Faust."
"Ah, I thought we were friends after playing so much," Selina teases. "Faust, why do I remember that name? Let me check my phone real quick."
"Running out of time," Waylon repeats as I catch sight of him for the first time. Wow, he is actually an eight foot tall crocodile guy. He was dressed in black cargo pants tied with a belt while the rest of his was bare. The only other exception is that his hands and feet were wrapped in bandages like a fighter would wear.
"Take all the time you need," I chime in. "I'll be over here nursing my concussion."
"Oh, that's it!" Selina eventually says. "You are one of the cops with a bounty. Felix Benjamin Faust, dead or alive, 5 million dollar reward. Wow, you usually don't see normal cops with a bounty."
"It was a one-off kind of thing," I say as I square back up for a fight. "Now, let's get back to it. This can either go the easy way or the hard way. Your choice."
"Let me think about it," Selina says. "Well, if you think about it, that means I am the easy way and Waylon is the hard way. So, I choose the hard way! Waylon, I choose you!"
"I am not a damn Pokémon," he mutters as he cracks his knuckles. "Sorry, but orders are orders. You are going down."
"Let's see if you can keep up like the kitty cat could," I reply as I flare my Cursed Energy enough that it ignites around my fists with ethereal blue and black flames.
We charge forward and proceed to beat the shit out of each other. I punch him across the face only for him to return with a punch to the stomach that almost folds me in half. I hold on and land on my feet before pivoting and using his arm to fling him into a wall. He craters into the side and is unable to escape the kick coated with blazing Cursed Energy that I send into his gut. It embeds him even deeper into the tunnel wall as he coughs from the force.
That is before he grabs my extended leg and throws me to the side. I slide to a stop in a crouch before I rush back as he charges forward in return. However, this time is different. When I slam my fist into his side, it barely makes him react as his greenish scales seemed to shimmer with glossy black beneath my fist. My eyes widen in time for his haymaker to strike me across the face and cut open a gash on my cheek. It rocks me to the side and he follows it up with another punch. I barely notice how it turned black before it strikes me in the face and I go flying backwards.
I could feel the difference in the punches from before. These seem, more. It was like there was more behind them. The only comparison is that it was like being punched with physical strength before and I am now being hit by someone using Cursed Energy. The only time I had ever felt a beating like this is sparring with Gojo every now and then.
"What the hell is that?" I wheeze as I push myself off of the ground and spit up blood.
"Armament Haki," Killer Croc replies. I don't make the mistake with thinking of him as Waylon. Right now, he is Killer Croc. "It makes me tougher and hit harder. Whatever those flames are can't match up. I might be listed as a 13 million dollar bounty, but that is because I never revealed my trump card. At least, to no one who has survived to say anything. I would probably be valued in the low twenties like Selina if jt was public information."
"Why are you telling me this?" I ask. "Are you going to kill me?"
"No, I am just going to break enough bones so you can't follow us," he replies. "You seem like a nice enough guy, so I am just going to put you in the hospital. You should be recovered in a year."
"What a generous offer," I say. "How about I counter it with my own?"
I roll over and grab my pistol which had fallen out of my holster during the fight. I fill it with as much Cursed Energy as possible while I focus it into the bullets. I fire three times as I shoot at each of his shoulders and once in his lower stomach.
This proves useless when the 9 millimeter rounds just dig into Killer Croc's scales without going very deep. He had managed to channel his haki throughout his body and it had turned black. The reptilian man picks out one from his shoulder before looking it over.
"Impressive," he comments. "It broke my skin even with Armament Haki. I shouldn't play around anymore."
"Play around?" I ask in astonishment before he rushes forward and proceeds to pummel me with a barrage of black scaled fists. I do my best to use Cursed Energy reinforcement and defend, but it isn't enough as Killer Croc demolished me with ease. He is just more powerful than I am.
"Fishman Karate: Shark Brick Fist."
This was the last thing I hear him say before I go flying into the far tunnel wall and slam into it. I slide to the floor bonelessly as everything goes black. I guess I lost.
Memories swell from the recesses of my mind. Faces I haven't seen in years appear with such clarity it was like I had seen them only yesterday.
"Come on, Ben! I finished my chores already! Let's go! Don't just sit around wasting time!"
"I only put up with him because my parents asked me to. Why would I want a lonely puppy like him around?"
"I thought you would be tired of meeting me everyday. I guess you just can't get enough, can you?"
"You were just a distraction. Just a toy to wile away the days until it was time to grow up!"
"It is a privilege to spend time with a queen like me. You should count yourself lucky, Ace."
"Why would I pick you over my own family? He is my brother, you are just some guy."
"Thanks for putting up with me so much. I know it can't be easy for you. I am just glad to have a friend like you."
"Get out! I am done letting you try and force me to change! I never want to see your face again!"
"Thanks, Ben. If there is one guy in the world I can trust, it is you."
"I'm sorry. I love him. I can't be with you anymore."
"This has been one of the funnest days of my life. I will always treasure it."
"I had to choose, Ben. I chose them. Please, just go."
"I love you, Ben. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."
"The idea of loving you hurts more than I can stand. If you really love me, you will walk out that door and never come back."
Then, out of the chorus, I hear my own voice.
"I promise I will be back with plenty of time for some snuggles before breakfast and the airport."
"You better, mister."
I am not an idiot. I know that there will be no one waiting for me when I get back. It will just be me returning to an empty apartment like I am used to.
Still, I made a promise to Talia. I promised I would be back soon. It doesn't matter if she is still there or not. I promised her I would get done and come back. My dad always said that a Faust is only as good as his word. I am not going to break my promise, no matter what.
I open my eyes and I see Killer Croc walking away. I force my body to move as I push myself up off of the ground. My foot bumps some fallen fragments of concrete which skitter across the floor and signal that I am still moving.
Killer Croc turns back with a look of disbelief on his semi-human face. "How are you still standing?" he asks in shock.
"I made a promise," I reply simply as I drop into a stance where I draw my right fist back and I rest my left hand on top as I focus. I tune out everything as I close my eyes. The dull agony of my injuries. The threat of Killer Croc advancing on me. The sound of the water dripping onto old pipes. It all fades away as I gaze at a blue and black flame hovering in front of me. Instinctively, I knew it was my Cursed Energy.
I reach out and touch it only to feel the sum total of all of my pain and despair concentrated into that single flame. A small part of me wanted to pull away, but the majority leaned in. I am not going to run from this darkness. It is part of me, whether I accept it or not. Running isn't going to change a thing. I deserve to feel every ounce of this because of the path I have chosen to walk in life.
I feel the Cursed Energy flow through every fiber of my being. It was almost like I was becoming one with it, even if it was just for a brief moment.
I snap my eyes open in time to see Killer Croc throwing a devastating left hook towards me with his arm covered in the glossy black of Armament Haki. That didn't worry me anymore. I would just put everything into my own punch.
I put every ounce of Cursed Energy I can manage into my arm as I punch with the entirety of my soul. Every victory, every tragedy, every laugh, and every tear. The totality of Felix Benjamin Faust was unleased in this single blow.
--
(Narrator POV)
Something that Felix Faust could not know is that there was a unique phenomenon that occurs with Jujutsu sorcerers who reach a certain degree of control with their Cursed Energy. When Cursed Energy is applied to a physical blow within a millionth of a second of it landing, the energy is compressed and bends space itself to generate a strike with two and a half times its original power.
Once it is achieved, the user will temporarily unlock 120% of their innate potential. This will occur as they enter a state commonly known to athletes as 'the zone.' In this heightened state of consciousness, they will feel like the world revolves around them as they understand the true nature of their Cursed Energy. Breakthroughs in ability have been known to occur frequently through this epiphany moment.
For the first time in the history of this world, the black sparks had blessed a sorcerer.
--
"Black Flash!"
As my punch hurtled towards Killer Croc's, the blue and black flame on my hand warped and transformed into streaming black and red lightning. When our fists meet, a massive blast of lightning fills the air as the black coating on his arm seemingly shatters. Lightning sparks along his body as it surges through him and his arm is blown back by the force of the hit.
I follow it up with a series of punches that thunder into his body, his scaled form yielding to their power. I keep the momentum going with an uppercut which lifts him off his feet before I send him shooting back down the tunnel with a right hook that digs into his stomach and blasts him away.
The larger man ragdolls as he skips across the ground before sliding to a stop near Selina who was looking down at him in shock. She probably never thought that Croc would lose in a battle of strength.
"Run, Selina," he growls. "We got what we came for. Finish the job. I can handle this."
"Waylon," she tries to say before he cuts her off.
"Go!" he shouts, finally knocking some sense into her and causing her to run deeper into the tunnel system. When she is gone, Killer Croc turns back to me. "For whatever little it means, thank you for letting her leave."
"I doubt I could chase her down if I tried," I admit as I sway a little on my feet. My heightened Cursed Energy reinforcement can only do so much when I feel like I was run over by a semi. "I guess I will have to make due with just you."
"Fine by me," the man says with what I think is a smile.
When we both rush forward for the last time, he does something that surprises me and changed the game. With his fists coated in haki, he slams them down into the floor of the tunnel and causes it to collapse beneath us. We both fall through the crumbling floor before we come crashing down into a massive pool of water. It was too clean to be sewage, so my bet was it being a drainage basin for rainfall.
As I sink beneath the water, I can tell how much of a disadvantage I am in. It is dark as hell since we are far below the tunnel lights and the water blocks what little illumination makes it down this far. Additionally, I would bet that the crocodile themed guy is better moving through the water than the standard human.
It was good I brought some emergency supplies with me when Lieutenant Gordon called. I had purchased them with a bit of my reward money for the kidnapper I stopped. It just happened to be at Geto's Gadgets and Gimmicks, the one stop shop for specialized equipment on the rare occasion you might need it. I pull the capsule out of the sealed inner pocket of my jacket and twist it open. With pure touch, I find the pill within and pop it into my mouth. I crunch it between my teeth and swallow it before I feel searing pain in my neck and eyes.
It felt like my throat was being slashed repeatedly while my eyes were being gouged out with red hot pokers. However, it passed within moments and I open my eyes to see the water become crystal clear around me like it was purified and bathed in light. I take a deep breath and I feel water flow through my mouth and out the newly formed gills in my neck. This was totally worth the fifty grand that Geto charged me.
With my boosted eyesight, I barely see Killer Croc before he comes hurtling towards me in a tackle. We tumble through the water beating on each other until we break apart upon hitting the bottom of the drainage basin. When we come to a stop, our standoff resumes.
I don't know how or why, but there were glowing blue tattoos that wound across Croc's body now. The front portion of an eastern dragon came down over his right shoulder and ended across his peck. The back half coiled along his body with the tail winding across the left side of his stomach. Two additional dragons wound down his arms with the heads etched on the backs of his hands. Even more, I could see a pair of gills on the sides of his neck now.
"What are you?" he asks, his voice carrying through the water perfectly. "You aren't a Fish-man or Atlantean."
"Now, I am a human," I reply as my own voice projects flawlessly as well. I guess it is a convenient side effect of the pill? "At least, human in the normal sense. I thought you were a reptile, not a fish."
"The reptile was my father," Killer Croc answers. "He was a pirate who ate the Dragon-Dragon Fruit: Crocodile Model. I was cursed with some of his power as his son. My mom was a mermaid. She had some Fish-man in her blood, so here I am."
"Do all Fish-men have glowing tattoos or is that just a you thing?" I ask.
"I was raised in Atlantis before coming to the surface," he replies. "I even trained in the Academy of Sorcery. That is where I got these marks. I decided to leave since I didn't belong there any more than I belong on the surface."
"Sorry to hear that," I say. I really did mean that. He doesn't seem like a truly bad guy. I guess he just got the shit end of the stick a few too many times.
"It is what it is," he shrugs. "What are you?"
"A Jujutsu sorcerer," I say with a shrug of my own. "I use magical depression to beat up ghosts most of the time. I am kind of the first one."
"I guess that means it will be more impressive when I beat you then," Killer Croc remarks as he drops into a martial arts stance. "I doubt you can beat my Fish-man Karate. It was designed to be used underwater. No surface martial art can match it down here."
"Who says I don't know some underwater martial arts too?" I ask as I settle into a stance of my own. "A friend gave me some pointers."
--
(A while ago)
"Come on, Michael!" I shout at the demon asshole inside of me. "Teach me something cool!"
"Will you quit whining, brat?" he asks as he finally manifests on my cheek. "Train on your own. Ask someone at the hotel. Spar with Gojo for all I care. There is no reason for me to help you. You should be lucky you even have Cursed Energy because of me."
"Well, I sure as hell can't get stronger like a normal Contractor," I reply. "Because of whatever shitty deal you gave me, I can't buy stuff from the Consortium's Catalog like every other Contractor can. I already spar with Gojo more than I would like and I am not going to bother someone on vacation at the hotel to train me. Take some responsibility for once."
"Fine," Michael relents. "It would look bad for my vessel to be so pitifully weak. Don't expect me to reward your weakness again."
"What is it?" I ask skeptically. For all I know, it could be virtually worthless.
"I doubt this will ever come in handy, but I once made a fighting style that I could teach you back when I was in a world called One Piece," he replies. "I fought some trashy Fish-men who thought their Fish-man Karate was so special since it was developed for undersea combat. Their moves are supposed to flow with the water and become even stronger than if they were on land. Don't even get me started on that bullshit Fish-man Jiujitsu where they can grab fucking water. Anyway, I decided I would create a different fighting style designed to beat Fish-men at their own game. It pretty much only works underwater though, so I can't see you using it all that much."
"Good enough for me," I reply. "Teach me."
--
"Shark Slayer Style."
Killer Croc tenses at the name, almost like he can guess what it means. Despite this, he is undeterred.
"Fish-Man Karate: Sea Drum!"
He throws out a punch and it triggers a shockwave that surges through the water. I just hold up my left palm and raise my right hand in a fist.
"Shark Slayer Style: Hammerhead Harmonics."
I slam my fist down into my palm and it unleashes a pulse through the water around me. It strikes Killer Croc's blast and neutralizes it. The shockwave disperses in the water harmlessly as we both have yet to take a single step.
"I guess we need to kick it up a notch, don't we, Croc?" I ask.
"Fine by me," he replies before he grabs the fucking water and fucking bends it! What the fuck! I thought Michael was making this bullshit up!
"Fish-Man Jiujitsu: Water Heart! Shark Pack!"
As he flings the water forward, it transforms into several sharks made of solidified water that swim towards me with gnashing jaws. I just crouch down in anticipation.
"Shark Slayer Style: Reef Shark Ripper!"
I blitz across the concrete floor of the basin as I weave between the shark constructs and tear into their sides using my hands like claws. They fade back into water once I destabilize their forms and I finally close the distance to Croc.
"Fish-Man Karate: Hundred Brick Fist!"
"Shark Slayer Style: Bull Shark Bludgeon!"
We both lash out with punches that dig into the other. His lands directly in my face which breaks my nose and rattles my brain. Mine crashes into his side and shatters a rib or two from the way his rib cage bends in.
The impacts send us blasting apart as we reorient ourselves following the collision. I see Killer Croc nursing his left side with a wince while I snap my nose back into place. It hurt like a motherfucker, but I bet Croc was hurting pretty bad too.
Despite our injuries, we don't let them stop us. With a roar, we charge to meet once more.
"Fish-Man Jiujitsu: Whitewater Whirlpool!"
"Shark Slayer Style: Tiger Shark Talons!"
He grabs the water around him and spins it into a raging whirlpool while I use my right hand like a claw and slice through the tempest and slash across the right side of his stomach. It tears through his Armament Haki and sends a flash of blood through the water before the current finally catches me. The unforgiving force of the water grabs me and drives me into the side of the basin hard enough to crater the concrete. Despite my Cursed Energy reinforcement, I still cough up some blood from the impact.
As Killer Croc and I watch each other across the basin floor, we know this will be the last exchange between the two of us. Whatever happens, whoever wins, will be decided in this final move.
Like a starting bell, we both twitch and begin our closing gambits. This is for all the chips, winner take all.
As I rush forward, Killer Croc grabs the water before spinning with it in his grasp.
"Fish-Man Jiujitsu: Ocean Current Shoulder Throw!"
He releases it towards me in a massive burst that tears through the surrounding water like a geyser. I just ready myself before I leap forward with enough force to crack the concrete beneath my feet.
"Shark Slayer Style: Mako Cleave!"
I swing my right arm up from my left hip like a sword as I meet the overpowered weaponized current. My arm slices through the titantic surge and sends it to my sides as it gouges through the basin's floor instead. When I finish my arm's slash, I am standing right in front of Killer Croc. His eyes widen in shock as he realizes I had defeated what was likely his strongest move. I can understand why since it was genuinely the most powerful attack I have ever seen outside of Gojo. That asshole needs to learn to hold back like the other Contractors I spar with. The only reason I wasn't beaten is because my move was built for slicing through attacks like that.
He picked paper, but I picked scissors. Simple as that.
Once the momentum of my arm finishes fading away, I bring my hands together for the true finisher.
The ultimate attack of Shark Slayer Style.
--
(Before)
"This is the strongest attack, but it is not exactly the safest either," Michael says. "It isn't an original of mine like the rest of Shark Slayer Style. I picked this one from a world I visited since it brought some real firepower of its own. The universe was a minor one spawned from the idea of a limited release manga called Hard Boiled Cop and Dolphin. It had its own underwater fighting style made their ancient Atlantean race that went extinct or something. I didn't really care about the rest of it, but this move was something special. Have you ever heard of a pistol shrimp?"
"Yeah, my dad was always a fan of weird biology like that," I reply. "It has a claw that it can click together so powerfully that it pretty much turns the water to plasma and uses the explosion to stun its prey."
"Exactly," Michael says. "Just imagine what that would be like as a human. It is pretty hard on the hands, so I doubt you could use it that many times in a row. You would probably max out at one or two. That is, if you can even manage it in the first place. It was the hardest move to pull off in its original fighting style."
"What is it called?" I ask.
"It is called-"
--
"Roaring Waves."
--
(Waylon Jones/Killer Croc POV)
The moment that Faust had gotten in so close was when he knew it was over. The fight was finished and he had lost.
No matter what he did or what move he tried, Faust was able to keep up with him and damage him at every turn. Is this what it felt like for most people to fight him? This sucks. He almost feels bad for them. Almost.
There was no way that this guy's bounty was worth just 5 million. With how he was able to match physically match him blow for blow, overcome his haki with that black and red lightning, and fight underwater like he was born there, the cop's bounty should easily be in the upper twenties at least. What was a guy like this doing with the cops?
As Faust brought his hands together, there was a blinding flash of light before an explosion surfed through the water. As the shockwave hurtled towards him, his last thought was Selina.
"We can do anything we put our minds to, Waylon! With your brawn and my brains, we are going places! Cat and Croc, best friends till the end!"
Sorry, Selina. I tried my best, but this guy is a real monster.
Then, the shockwave struck and everything was gone.
--
(Felix Benjamin Faust POV)
I was sent flying backwards from the recoil of using Roaring Waves. Once I come to a stop, I look at my searing hands. They were both covered in first and second degree burns from the sheer power of the move. If it wasn't for my reinforcement, I am pretty sure my hands wouldn't even be here.
My eyes drift up to Killer Croc who is wedged in the wall of the basin. From the faint rhythmic pulse of his gills, he is still alive. I am just glad to also still be alive. That entire fight was way too close for comfort. It would have been over in an instant if Michael hadn't taught me Shark Slayer Style. I bet he never thought it would be this handy.
I lift my aching body and go to Killer Croc. Once I pry him out of the concrete, I sling one of his arms around my shoulders before I start to lift him towards the surface. My mediocre swimming skills barely do the job and get us to the surface. I grab onto a ladder built into the basin's side and use it to climb up while dragging Croc's unconscious body up as well. It squealed in protest, but it held on until I got to the top.
With a grunt of exertion, I finish dragging his body up and dump it on the safe and stable ground. My hands fucking burned with pain after using them so much while they were so badly burned. I reach into another pocket of my jacket and retrieve another emergency supply. It was a pack of powder designed to help heal wounds on the fly. It wouldn't stop a fatal wound, but it could really speed up recovery for more minor injuries. I tear it open with wincing fingers before I pour it on my hands and rub them together to really get it in. The pain faded in seconds as the skin visibly began to heal and cover the burns. Within two minutes, my hands looked normal even if they still ached a bunch. At least I can hide my injuries now.
I just need to get this massive pile of dead weight back to the surface and hopefully grab the rest of the guys I knocked out.
--
(Jim Gordon POV)
He pushes through the crowd of bustling officers to get to the source of their exitement. When he actually reaches it, he can't help but chuckle.
Through the gap made by prying up a manhole cover, he looks down to see Ben standing next to a pile of duffel bags, three guys in black piled on top of each other with their hands and feet ziptied, and a giant scaled man slumped over the bags. His officer was grinning like an idiot with more than a few cuts on his face and looking like he had been half drowned.
"I tried to take a dump, but I slipped into the toilet and flushed myself out to sea," Ben calls up. "Luckily, I found some treasure so I guess it worked out in the end."
Captain Montgomery pushes through and sees Ben in the sewer as well. The captain looks up at him after a moment. "I am going to ignore that the kid was supposedly in the bathroom," he says. "Good work. Feel free to insult Wunch before you head home."
"Already on it, sir," he says as he pulls out his prepared list. He never leaves home without it. You never know when inspiration could strike.
--
(Felix Benjamin Faust POV)
As I enter the apartment, I can feel it in the air. It was almost like a warmth I had gotten used to was gone. I wish I had been wrong for once.
When I enter the bedroom, I see a note sitting on the nightstand. I pick it up and take a moment reading Talia's familiar elegant script.
Sorry for not waiting until morning. I had to return tonight and I was already pushing my departure as much as I could. I guess I will have to take a raincheck on that snuggling and breakfast.
Goodbye, beloved.
Forever yours,
Talia
I sit down on the edge of the bed and reread the note before setting it down with a sigh. I didn't expect anything different, but it still hurt. I bet it always will.
With the sudden desire to get a drink, I stand up and make my way to the apartment door.
"You okay?" Gojo asks from where he is suddenly leaning against the wall.
"I just want to get a little booze in my body," I tell him as I wave off the concern. "It has been a long night."
"Okay," the white haired man relents. "Just say the word if you need a drinking buddy. I can hold your hair while you throw up in the restroom toilet."
"Thanks, but I think I will fly solo for this one," I say. "I kind of want to be alone for a bit."
With those parting words, I leave the cold apartment behind.
--
(Satoru Gojo/Purple King POV)
As he watches his friend walk away, he can't help the sigh he lets out. His brain flashes back to an hour ago when he watched someone else leave.
--
"Are you really going to leave without saying goodbye?" he asks Talia as she was walking to the apartment's door. "Ben should only take a little longer before he gets back."
"This is not something that can be delayed," she replies. "I have already wasted enough time here."
"Huh, I thought you cared about Ben a little too much for him to just be a waste of time," he muses. "Or is he just trash to toss aside when Daddy come calling?"
"What do you know?" she asks as her eyes narrow at him. "You are playing at something. I can tell."
"I can give you two choices," he says. "Option one is do what you are already doing. Run along to Ra's and go back to being another pawn in his League of Assassins. It's not too bad since he values you a touch more than his average fodder. After all, it would be an annoyance to make another child."
"What is option two?" she questions.
"You stay here with Ben," he answers. "You live your happy normal life with him free and leave your father in the past."
"You are underestimating my father," she says. "He has lived for hundreds of years. You don't know the power he wields."
"Whatever power he can bring to bear does not matter," he replies. "All that matters is your choice. If you choose option one, then you will lose Ben for good. You will not come back and make a mess of his life a second time. I can tolerate once and say good riddance. If you make a repeat performance, that is something I cannot accept. On the off chance you have to come back to Gotham, stay as far away from him as possible. We both know he would involve himself in your bullshit. On the other hand, if you choose option two, then you will never give your father a second thought. It won't matter whether he is trying to destroy the planet or nuke a city. The Demon's daughter will die so Talia Al Ghul can live on. That means you can't act out any plans to stop him or neutralize the threat he poses. So, choose. Which is more important, your lover or your father? You only get one chance. No takebacks."
"I can't stand by while he manipulates the world for another century," she says as she walks towards the door only to stop as she touches the handle. "Look out for Ben, will you? He needs people, more than anybody I have ever met. He just picked the wrong girl."
With that, she leaves.
--
(Felix Benjamin Faust POV)
I sit at the bar and watch the swirling whiskey in my glass. It reminded me of that move Croc did during our fight. Damn, my head still kind of hurts from when I hit that wall in the basin.
The great thing about Gotham bars is that no one really checks IDs. Sure, they don't let a bunch of teenagers come and drink, but you are good to go as long as you are over eighteen. As it stands, this is my favorite little hole in the wall bar that I had found so far. Quiet atmosphere, some faint music playing in the background, and all the time in the world to just think.
Someone takes the seat next to me and I glance over to see a face I didn't expect to see again tonight.
"Selina Kyle, this is a surprise," I remark as I set down my glass and turn to face her. "Are you here to get revenge for Waylon?"
"No, I am here to get a drink," she answers. "It was your job to catch him and it was his job to get away. He lost and you won. No point in getting angry about it."
"Most people still would," I say. "You two seem close."
"He is like a overprotective big brother," she snorts. "You wouldn't believe how many guys he has put through a wall because they were hitting on me. Apparently, they need to be able to handle him in a fight to even be considered. If they aren't strong enough to protect me, they definitely don't deserve me."
"You seem awfully chipper when your brother is in prison," I comment. "Most people would be worried."
"If this was the first time, sure," she admits. "This is the fourth. Without a doubt, he will be released inside of six months. He tends to burn through his prison sentences pretty quick since he lets this one chick, Waller, aim him like a scaly torpedo at hostile ships near US waters that she doesn't have the authority to sink normally."
"Sounds useful to have a get out of jail free card," I hum. "So you are probably going to just have fun for a few months until he gets out, aren't you?"
"Guilty as charged," she replies. "By the way, you seem to check Waylon's boxes for guys good enough for me. How open minded is that girlfriend of yours? I wouldn't be opposed to some mixed company to end my dry spell."
"She left me a note and left the country," I tell her as I sip my drink. "No clue where she is or if I will ever see her again."
"Need a rebound?" Selina asks with a smirk before relenting when she sees my unamused look. "Geez, it was just a joke. Well, mostly. I usually don't go for younger guys, but you seem like fun. You can definitely dance from our fight earlier."
"I am trained in ballet, tap, ballroom, salsa, square dancing, break dancing, and about a dozen others," I reply to her shocked expression. "Where I live offers a lot of classes for people wanting to relax. I typically take a couple whenever I am not busy."
"A man of many talents," she says. "I can respect that. So, how long do you want to mourn your relationship before trying out something new?"
"Long enough that you will probably lose interest," I say simply. "You seem like the kind of girl who wouldn't waste time waiting around for a guy to get interested."
"Sometimes," she admits. "However, if I get my eye on something I like, I tend to be one of the most patient women on Earth. I will wait for my moment and snatch it up for myself."
"So scared," I chuckle before my phone goes off. "Excuse me, I have to take this."
I pull it out and grin when I see the caller ID. I tap the answer button without a second thought and hold it up to my ear.
"King of Hearts, how is Central City treating you?" I ask. "It has been years! What's up?"
"Barry is hurt, Ben" August Heart says through the phone. "He is in pretty bad shape."
"Oh my God," I mutter. "What happened?"
"He was in the lab at CCPD during a thunderstorm earlier tonight," August sighs. "I went to check on him and found him on the floor. They say he must have been closing the skylight in the lab when it came down and blasted him through a shelf of chemicals."
"Is he okay?" I ask.
"He hasn't woken up yet," August sighs. "The doctors say he is still really touch and go recently. They don't know he will make it much longer."
"Fuck," I curse as I run a hand through my hair. "Have you talked to Queenie at all? We should let her know."
"After everything broke down between you two and you left Central City, we only saw her every now and then," August admits. "She pretty much pushed us away. I haven't seen her in over a year. I think Barry might have talked to her a few months back, but that is it."
"Goddamnit," I say. "Just hold tight. I will get the quickest flight I can from Gotham International so I should be in Central City by the morning."
"You don't have to," August tries to say before I cut him off.
"Barry would do it for me," I say. "How could I do any less for him? Also, I doubt you are going to have an easier time finding Queen than I will."
"You are the best, Ace," August says. "Call me when you land. I will pick you up. Until then, I will watch out for our boy here."
"You got it, August," I reply before the call ends. I toss some money on the bar before waving goodbye to Selina. "Let's get a drink after Waylon gets back! I want a rematch!"
Before she can respond, I am out of the door and flagging down a cab to the airport. Hold on, Barry.
--
"Sir, since the plane was overbooked and there was a cancellation in first class, your seat has been upgraded free of charge," a flight attendant informs me as I sit in my trashy last minute spot on the plane.
"Really, me?" I ask.
"Yes, sir," she answers. "If you would kindly follow me, I will show you to your new seat."
I squeeze out of my uncomfortable middle seat as several people send me envious glares. Even I know that I shouldn't be the one to get this upgrade, but I would prefer to get some sleep before I take off running in Central City.
The flight attendant guides me forward to the first class area at the front of the plane before pointing out my seat. I sink into its soft leathery embrace with a content sigh as things seem to go my way for the first time tonight.
"You seem to be enjoying that seat, aren't ya, Ben?" a voice says from beside me. "Good thing I paid for your upgrade so we could be seat buddies. I like to spend my flights talking to someone interesting. I thought you would enjoy some conversation too."
"What are you doing here, Selina?" I ask as I crack an eye open and glance at the cat burglar sitting next to me with a mischievous glimmer in her emerald eyes and a victorious grin on her lips.
"It has been a while since I have been to Central City, so I thought I would give you some company," she replies. "I have some colleagues of my own to meet so I didn't think it would be much of a problem."
"Fine," I say. "I guess this is the price for this first class seat."
"No, it is the price for turning down my bedroom invitation," she remarks. "If I can't keep you up all night with some fun in the sheets, I guess I will keep you up in a different way instead."
"I feel bad for Waylon," I mutter. "He has to deal with you all of the time."
"He might deny it, but he enjoys these little vacations apart as much as I do," Selina admits. "Since he isn't around, you will just have to fill his place. Think of my companionship as your spoils of war."
"Oh joy," I say.
This is going to be a long flight.
--
(Roman Sionis/Black Mask POV)
"Anything you would like to confess?" he asks the man kneeling in front of him. "You look like a man with something to get off his chest."
"I don't know what mean, sir," his lieutenant says as he begins to visibly sweat, a glistening drop trailing down his temple. "I thought you wanted a report on how the project went."
"I already know how it went," he replies dismissively. "I have better things to do than listen to you prattle. It went perfectly, just as I planned. The newly formed Red Hood Gang went around and stirred up trouble between every single group in Gotham's underworld, according my plan. What wasn't according to plan was a little cat and her scaly bodyguard breaking into one of my banks and stealing the leverage we have on a dozen of the Hoods. But you wouldn't know anything about that, right?"
"That is terrible, sir!" the man says. "You have my word that I will hunt her down myself and get the information back!"
"If only it were so simple," he sighs. "The big issue isn't how she stole the information. The real problem is how she even knew it was there and when they were going to attack. No one outside of my inner circle knew because I wanted to keep my connection to the Red Hoods quiet. Someone must have talked."
"Sir, it wasn't me!" the lieutenant shouts in a panic. "I have no idea how someone found out! You have my word!"
"But I can't exactly trust your word, now can I?" he replies. "Who knows what kind of secrets a cunning little cat could get you to spill by flashing her tits and showing some leg?"
With a burst forward, he grab onto the lieutenant's face and begins to pull. There was a brief moment of resistance, but it was child's play to overcome. With a simple tug, his face came off and a blank expanse was left behind. The body falls to the ground like a puppet with the strings cut. Its chest keeps rising and falling even if there wasn't a mouth or nose to breath through anymore.
"Huh, what do you know?" he mutters. "He was telling the truth. He really didn't have any idea. Oh well, it is as good a time as any to clear house a bit. Send the next one in and take this trash out!"
A new lieutenant was dragged in and forced to his knees as the faceless one was dragged out by a pair of his men. Let's try this again.
--
(Talia Al Ghul POV)
"You summoned me, Father," she says. "How might I serve you?"
"I require your expertise in taking the measure of our newest recruit," Ra's Al Ghul, the Demon's Head of the League of Assassins, tells her.
"Of course, father," she replies. "Who is he?"
"He hails from the city you have observed in recent months," her father answers. "They call him the Prince of Gotham, but here, he is just another aspirant seeking our tutelage. His name is Bruce Wayne."
--
(??? POV)
"That sounds great, Silena," they say. "It's a pleasure to spend time with an esteemed colleague such as yourself. Always nice to talk shop with someone who knows what they are talking about. Apologies in advance, but I might be a little distracted when we get together."
They get up and walk across their workshop as they continue the conversation.
"Oh no, I am fine," they say. "Law enforcement hasn't been on my tail at all recently. This is more of a personal matter. A pest problem that I thought was finally gone has popped up again. I might have to take care of it while you are here."
"Sorry, but I can't really trust it to someone else," they tell her. "Someone was supposed to fix it last time, but it seems to have not stuck. Don't worry. I enjoy a little hands on work every now and then."
Suddenly, their hand flicks out and a glimmering blade slams into a bounty poster. As it sticks into the wall through the paper, a wave of frost creeps out to coat the image printed on its surface.
Felix Benjamin Faust
Dead or Alive
Bounty: 5,000,000
"Should have stayed out of Central City, Faust," they say. "It will be a cold day in Hell before I let you come back here."
--
(Global Bounty Office POV)
Bounty Updates:
-
Felix Benjamin Faust
Dead or Alive
Bounty: 20,000,000
-
Selina "Catwoman" Kyle
Dead or Alive
Bounty: 25,000,000
--
Author's note:
There we go with another chapter! I wanted to set the stage for the rest of the story and I feel I nailed it pretty well. If the chapter was any indication, there will be plenty of fighting and relationship drama to come with our fledgling vessel and sorcerer.
In case anyone was wondering where I got Shark Slayer Style from, that is an original fighting style I thought up for attempting to counter water based martial arts. The only part that I got from somewhere else is Roaring Waves, which I already credited to Hard Boiled Cop and Dolphin.
For anyone curious, here is a breakdown of the moves.
Hammerhead Harmonics: Designed to neutralize shockwaves and sonic pulses transmitted through water by slamming a fist down like a hammer into an open palm.
Reef Shark Ripper: A high movement skill for use on the bottom of a body of water by utilizing its surface for quick maneuvering and strikes with hands used like claws.
Bull Shark Bludgeon: An impact ability intended to counter thick hides by sending the shockwave of a punch through the body and causing unhindered damage.
Tiger Shark Talons: With the use of a hand like a claw, the user tears through a whirlpool current counter to its rotation and slices its target.
Mako Cleave: A dashing slash where an arm is used like a sword and slices through a focused current.
This was a style I had been thinking about for a while, but it was cool to finally get it down on the page and solidify how I wanted it to work.
Besides that, I hope you all enjoyed where I am taking this story. I know I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you all enjoy reading it.
Feel free to write me a review and let me know how I did. I am practically fueled by reviews, so don't be shy. I always make sure to take all reviews to heart and respond to any questions at the beginning of each chapter.
If you liked the story and want to keep up to date, favorite and follow to get notifications when new chapters are released.
If you are interested in my other work, you can find my stories through my profile.
A pleasure as always,
Titan900
Current Favorites: 11, Current Follows: 15, Current Reviews: 1