Consortium Chronicles: Commissioner or Bust

by Titan900

When Felix Benjamin Faust finds himself making a deal to save the lives of his friend and innocents, he never expected the demon to work for the multiversal Company and need him as a vessel to hide from other Contractors. As he deals with gangsters, Contractors, Jujutsu sorcerers, and terrible luck with dating, he will work to save Gotham and ascend the ranks of the GCPD. OC, WC

2. Roomates, Redheads, and Recitals, Oh My!

Author's note:

Just to clear up any confusion that was stated in a review, the main character of this story, Felix, is completely straight. He is only interested in women. This is also true for Michael.

--

Chapter 2: Roommates, Redheads, and Recitals, Oh My!

"Calm down, Gojo," I say as I hold up my hands and try to slowly back away from my magically homicidal roommate/landlord. "Let's talk about this before you try to break out the death blasts."

"I knew I should have put a protection on you to keep parasites out," Gojo chides himself while still aiming the purple ball of death. "At least it looks pretty weak for now. I can sear it out easy enough, but it should just scar your soul a little bit. This will hurt a bit, but I believe in you."

He releases the attack which causes it to fly straight at me. I duck immediately, but it was traveling so fast that I barely moved out of the way in time. It shoots past and vaporizes a hole through the wall. And the wall after that. And the other walls for about a hundred yards.

"Good thing I was holding back on that one," Gojo laughs. "No reason to destroy the hotel too."

"Knock it off, Gojo!" Michael says from a mouth he sprouted on my cheek. "Just because the other Kings decided to let you run the Consortium's embassy on this Nexus world doesn't mean that you can attack me!"

"I am trying to clear up your mess, Red," Gojo says with a touch of irritation in his voice. "You are lucky I was here when you decided to fuck up a Nexus world. It was bad enough when you pulled your little trick with the timeline. Then, you chose a vessel from this dimension instead of getting the fuck out like you should have. You could have gone to ground in a million worlds in a billion bodies, but you picked the only guy in this universe I actually give a shit about. Do you have any idea how badly you destabilized the world when you anchored yourself here? With all of the universal powers converging here, there were never Jujutsu sorcerers or Cursed Spirits. Your rebirth in Ben fucked everything up. I was able to help settle it down before anyone else from the Consortium or Company found out, but I draw the line at the clusterfuck you made of the kid's soul. You are just a Tier 5 threat after surviving the ambush and you are still far too weak to give a good fight. So, I am going to carve out everything I can before you all bind together too tightly. I'm not going to miss twice."

Time seems to slow down for a moment as the world grays out slightly. Michael appears in front of me as my body is frozen in place staring forward.

"For a little bit of context, your buddy Gojo here is probably the single greatest threat to our continued existence," Michael says as he strolls up and leans on the my frozen friend. "Don't worry. This is all happening up in your head right now. I sped up your brain a touch so we can talk before everything goes to shit."

'Talk about what?' I ask.

"Like Gojo said, I am currently a shadow of my former power," Michael admits. "The company uses a power scale to rank the different beings that they encounter. The average person is Tier 1, an individual with no particular strengths or skills. Tier 2 is doctors, accountants, and anyone else that is either physically trained or possesses a practiced skill set. Tier 3 is peak human. Tier 4 is the beginning of superhuman with Tier 5 just serving as a higher power and proficiency level. Tier 6 is when the bigger players start to appear, those that stand above the average superhuman. Tier 7 is where you find the human monsters, people who are at the top of any self contained world. Tier 8 is where you start to ascend into beings who could call themselves gods and deal with reality manipulation as a standard ability. Tier 8 and Tier 9 typically delve into more esoteric powers, such as time and fate. Tier 10 includes everyone short of a universal concept but with too much power to fit in any lower category. An example is a being who made a name for himself consuming entire populated planets for food.

"The first big power hurdle is between Tier 10 and Tier 11," Michael continues. "While most Contractors eventually reach Tier 10 given enough time and enough intelligence to survive, a small subset is capable of ascending to Tier 11. This is when they attain positions as fundamental forces of a universe. Death, Life, and Fate are some of the common ones Contractors achieve. After that, you have Tier 12. These Contractors have transcended individual universes and rule over multiverses of their own. Fights between beings on this level can cause the deaths of universes since they could create or destroy them at will.

"Above all of these is the true pinnacle of Contractors, Tier 13. These few are those that lift themselves up beyond the final step and act as the real power throughout the different Omniverses. This is the level I was at until recently. All of the Consortium Kings are at Tier 13, along with good ole Gojo here. He is also known as the Purple King."

'Thank you for that very informative lecture on power classification,' I think. 'Now could you tell me why the fuck I should give a shit right now?!'

"I am currently at Tier 5 and you are at Tier 2," Michael explains. "Against Gojo, a Tier 13, we each have no chance in Hell of escaping. However, if we work together, I think we could be as strong as a Tier 6, even if only for a short burst."

'How the hell does that work?' I ask.

"We both drive at the same time," he says. "You steer the wheel while I control the pedals. You have decent combat instincts so you should be able to handle moving around on your own. I will control the flow of Cursed Energy through our body to maximize my output and boost us as much as possible. My reserves are still low though. We will only be able to go for a few minutes. In that time, we will need to get out of the building."

'If Gojo is as strong as you say, how will being outside do anything?' I think. 'It sounds like we would just be changing the area our murder scene will be at.'

"We don't have much time until your brain slows down again, so I will just use this instead," Michael says with a huff of annoyance. He rolls over a cart with an old TV strapped down on top of it. It was the exact same kind that every middle school teacher rolls in whenever they want a thirty minute break by putting on an educational video. Michael pulls out a VHS tape and slips it in before hitting the TV's power button. It turns on with a crackle of static before the fallen angel presses the input button and starts the video.

The video starts up like an old eighties commercial from a travel agency. The grainy footage and overly colorful visual effects fit the style perfectly.

"The Six Eyes Hotel is the shining jewel of Nexus world embassies," the voice narrated as it showed an aerial view of the building. It was a towering structure with over a hundred floors and rivaled the Wayne Enterprises Tower. The name was illuminated down the side of the hotel with bright red signs that spelled out '6 Hotel.' The joke was the 'O' in hotel was stylized to look like an eye. "Constructed and run by the prestigious Consortium, it serves as a home away from home for many Contractors who desire a break from the endless flow of missions and their own retinues. It houses many amenities beyond just hotel rooms including swimming pools, theaters, stores, gyms, medical clinics, firing ranges, and even a fully stocked petting zoo."

"How did you not think anything was fishy when you share a room in a prestigious hotel with the guy you know owns and runs it?" Michael asks me with a look of disbelief on his face. "There are more red flags here than a bull fight."

'I met Gojo while buying some ramen packets at the store,' I reply with my thoughts. 'We started talking, I mentioned I was looking for an apartment, and before I know it, I was already moved in. He is very persuasive.'

"In addition to being situated in the iconic Gotham City, it is protected from all local attention with enchantments that render it ordinary to any native inhabitant of the Nexus world," the video explained. That actually made a lot of sense. I always subconsciously knew this place existed before I moved in, but I never really paid it all that much attention. To be honest, I have probably spent more time looking at a particularly rusty dumpster than looking at this building in the past. "However, the most powerful defense the hotel possesses in its resident member of the Consortium's leaders, the Purple King, Satoru Gojo. To remain on this world long term with his immense power, he is only able to utilize his abilities within the hotel. This is due to the hotel's walls serving as the barriers to his Innate Domain. Unlike his famous Infinite Void, this allows him to manipulate the space and contents of the hotel at will to ensure the continued protection of his sworn responsibility."

"Does that explain everything?" Michael says as the Tv reverts to static before he shoves it out of view.

'Yeah,' I reply. 'He can't do anything special as long as we get outside of his Domain's barrier. All we have to do is escape long for him to get over his homicide plan.'

"Bingo," the demon replies. "Good thing you are finally ready. The burst is almost up, so we are going to need to run pretty quickly. Remember, we don't need to beat him. We just need to escape."

Michael disappears as the color returns to the world and everything starts moving again. My bottom pair of eyes opens and my vision sharpens and expand with the broader field of view and better depth perception. I see tattoo markings trace their way down the skin of my hands as my nails sharpen into claws.

I see Gojo raising his hand as a ball of red energy begins to coalesce. I trust my instincts and slam my hands to the ground before saying a word that appeared in my mind out of nowhere.

"Cleave."

I feel energy flow across my body and through my arms as dotted lines with scissor symbols appear across the ground before slashes cut through the carpet, wood, and concrete comprising the floor. I fall through the newly carved hole right as I hear Gojo say something as well.

"Cursed Technique Reversal: Red."

The red orb blasted through the space I had just occupied a moment before. I feel just a fraction of the shockwave as it passed by and I could tell that the attack would have ended my chances of escape if it had landed. As I land in a hallway on the lower floor, I immediately begin running as a handsign appears in my mind along with a phrase.

"Hollow Wicker Basket."

A field of blue energy surrounds me, but it immediately begins to be eroded from the outside. The handling is pulsed in my brain multiple times and I realize it is a message from Michael to keep repeating the handsign. Each repetition continued to restore the protective field around me.

"What's going on?" I ask Michael as I bolt through the empty room before throwing open the door and entering the floor's main hallway. "What is this Wicker Basket thing?"

"It is to counter Gojo's domain effect," Michael explains quickly. "He has a harder time localizing it on you since his domain typically affects everyone inside of it. If you get hit by the domain, your brain will be drowned in so much information it will turn you into a vegetable in seconds. Hollow Wicker Basket prevents the domain's sure-hit effect, but you have to keep refreshing it otherwise it will collapse against a true Domain Expansion."

"I am guessing that no cellphone signals are going to get out?" I ask, hopeful that I am wrong.

"Of course not," Michael retorts. "Who would you even call? I doubt Mommy could come and help you right now."

"I have a Plan B, but we still need to get out of here to have any chance," I reply. I whip open the door to the stairwell only to find that it leads off into a massive towering area in the middle of the hotel. The outer walls are covered in doors and windows leading to different rooms and areas of the hotel while dozens of rooms are flying around in the middle. They tumble through the air before slotting into a niche in the wall and another room unslots from somewhere else to soar into the air instead. "What the fuck is this?"

"This is the true nature of the Six Eyes Hotel," Michael says with a touch of strain in his voice. "It is one of Gojo's domains. This is all a construct forged from his Cursed Energy. He can literally reshape this place at will."

As if on cue, a room to our right flew off as the hotel rearranged. The space behind us seemed to shift to the right as we were pulled back and found ourselves in the newest divet. We quickly realized what this meant when a room came flying to fill the hole which was also where we happened to be. I leaped backwards right before the new door crushed my face.

I waste no time in kicking in the door as I sprint through the room and try to reach the central vortex again. With my enhanced eyesight from the extra eyes, I could have sworn I saw a window that showed the Gotham skyline somewhere on the other side of the maelstrom. My money is on that being our way out.

However, it seems Gojo was stopping us from ever reaching that far. He kept slotting rooms ahead of me so I couldn't reach the center. After the second, I made a break for the right side and used another Cleave on the adjoining wall to the next suite.

Upon running into the room, I almost stumble when I realize what I walked in on. Rose petals where scattered across the floor. Scented candles filled the air with a warm scent that almost made me relax even with the life-or-death escape in progress. I'll Make Love To You by Boyz II Men plays softly on the stereo. Last but not least, there was a busty blond angel riding cowgirl on a horned demon with rocky skin and glowing magma eyes.

I tried to look away like any decent person would, but my lower left eye immediately locked back onto them. I could feel Michael form a mouth on my cheek right before he calls out, "Hey, Frank! Long time no see!"

The demon looks toward us with an incredulous expression on his stone face like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Dad?!" he asks. "Is that you?"

In response, I just cover the side of my face to block my view of them. "Sorry, wrong room," I say before trying to swiftly walk out of there as soon as possible. You know, maybe getting killed by Gojo wouldn't be so bad after all.

Sadly, Michael wouldn't just let me leave. He reformed his mouth on the back of my hand and continued to talk. "I didn't expect to see you here of all places," he said. "Is that a ring I see on your fingers? Congrats on finally tying the knot!"

"Thanks," Frank replies before I hear the rustle of clothes. "Dude, you can stop with the blushing virgin routine. We put on clothes."

I peek behind my hand and am relieved to see the couple now wearing clothes. In addition to the robes they were now wearing, they both look virtually human now. The angel girl's wings and halo had vanished along with the demon turning into a typical guy, just with magma eyes still.

"To be honest, it's more a crisis of faith seeing an angel and demon fucking in a hotel than walking in on sex," I admit. "Sunday School did not prepare me for that."

"Don't be so weird about it," Frank says with a chuckle. "I am not even a real demon, technically. I am just the son of a fallen angel, so I have a bit of demon in me. My lovely wife Emma over her is the daughter of the Yellow King. She turned out angelic because she was too sweet to be anything else."

"Oh, babe," Emma says with a smile before hugging him. "I am just happy we get to meet our new in-law so soon."

"You have already met my dad before," Frank says with confusion.

"No, silly," she says with a kind smile. "I mean our new uncle. Since they are joined together by a contract, that makes them brothers. So, that make him our new uncle-in-law!"

Frank clearly tried to parse the flawed logic that lead to her conclusion before deciding there was no point in really arguing with her. "Sounds about right," he agrees. "But what are you guys even doing here?"

"Dipshit here is roommates with Gojo, who is now trying to do his level best to capture us without just pulping Faust like a grape," Michael replies. "To avoid this, we are trying to get out before he can grab us."

"Even if you make it to the edge of his barrier, you haven't talked about how you are going to break through Gojo's barrier," Frank says. "After all, the Purple King is by no means a pushover. The only reason he hasn't just crushed you is because he is playing with kid gloves. From what I remember of him, I wouldn't be surprised if he is treating this like a game. And from what I can see of you guys, I don't think you have enough juice to cut through the Neutral Limitless infused in the domain's barrier."

"What's so special about this Neutral Limitless?" I ask as I turn to Frank.

"It essentially stretches space," the man explains. "It is kind of like dividing a number by two. You keep getting a smaller number, but you never reach zero. The same thing happens with the barrier. You just keep getting closer until you just fail to reach the barrier."

"When were you going to tell me about this shit, Michael?" I ask. "How are we supposed to get past this ultra barrier?"

"I was going to figure it out when we got that far," he answers with a dismissive tone.

"I find that hard to believe when I just learned we are only alive since Gojo is fucking around," I retort. "Why you acting like we are not royally screwed right now?"

"His pride won't let him," Frank says with a chuckle. "It doesn't help that Dad inherited the dislike of Satoru Gojo from the original King of Curses when he absorbed him. He can't accept the idea that another Jujutsu sorcerer could ever actually kill him."

"Oh, great," I say throwing my hands up. "We are going to die to fuel a demon's ego. Great to know. Wait, why hasn't Gojo tried anything since we have been here? I feel like we have done a lot of talking and I have done a surprisingly low amount of dying."

"We have a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on our door," Emma says. "The rules of the hotel say that Gojo can't interfere unless someone is being unconsensually murdered."

"As opposed to all of the consensual murder, of course," I reply. "So, Gojo is just taking a break until we run out? I still don't get why he hasn't just transformed a room into a jail cell and trapped me yet."

"It is because of the conditions structured into the Innate Domain when he manifested it," Frank informs me. "It is the same reason he can't just completely seal off the hotel from anything short of another King. This is supposed to be a hotel, not a prison. That means he can't fundamentally change the rooms or make it impossible to leave. Hotels are supposed to have hotel rooms and the guests are supposed to be able to leave. He can only do so much since you are both technically still guests."

"Escaping isn't actually impossible," I clarify. "It is just virtually impossible."

"Exactly," Franks says with a nod. "Now you are getting it."

"That still doesn't fix the fact we are running low on energy," Michael says. "I can only access Cursed Energy right now and I am already getting close to the point where I couldn't cut through the barrier, even if we made it over there."

"I know how," Emma says cheerfully. "You get Cursed Energy from sadness and stuff, right? So wouldn't you get more Cursed Energy if you were sadder?"

"Technically," Frank admits. "But it would have to be a lot of sadness if they want enough to make it."

"Got it!" Emma chirps before walking up to me and gently cupping my cheek with her hand as she looked me in the eyes.

I immediately freeze up since I don't know what to make of a gorgeous blond angel in a thin robe standing so close to and looking into my eyes so soon after I saw her completely naked. However, my tension just turns to confusion as I look into her eyes and see boundless compassion, kindness, and sadness.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered as she gazed into my eyes and seemed to see my very soul. "You would have been great. He would have loved you."

I can sense Michael's confusion at the statement but I am distracted by the realization about what she is talking about. It felt like a punch in the gut as I understood what she had seen that made her so sad. Memories that I had buried deep down tried to rise to the surface, but I pushed them down until they settled in the back of my mind.

It was only when Emma brushes the tears from my cheeks that I realize I was crying. I didn't even feel the tears start to fall until she was wiping them away.

"It will be okay," she tells me. For some reason I cannot explain, I can feel her belief in the statement and it makes me believe it too. I guess Frank really was right when he said she was too kind to be anything less than an angel.

"So, if this Hallmark moment is over, let's get this show on the road," Frank says as he reverts to his rocky demon form. He grows further until he stands fifteen feet tall. Thankfully, the ceiling grew higher to compensate, otherwise his head would have burst through. He held out his open palm and gestured to me. "Hop on. I can give you a boost across the first part."

"Fine, this might as well happen," I say as I wipe the last traces of water from my eyes and I climb onto the jagged surface of his palm. I type out a quick message on my phone before stashing it in my pocket again. It doesn't hurt to be ready for that Plan B.

"Can't believe we have to do a stupid Fastball Special," Michael grumbles from my cheek as he missed what I did with my phone. "I just know he got the idea from Yellow. Stan never could stop making jokes about this fucking move."

Frank begins to wind up as he talks to me. "I am going to be throwing you about a quarter of the way across. Everything after that is on you. Thanks to whatever Emma told you, your Cursed Energy is flaring up as well. Latch onto those feelings and make them flow through your body. It should be easy since Dad is already doing the same thing, so you just need to replicate it. You guys only have enough fuel in the tank to maintain your output for another minute and thirty. Make sure you work together. That's the only way you will get out."

"Got it," I confirm with a thumbs up as I brace myself in a crouch against the demon's hand. I refresh my Hollow Wicker Basket as I prepare to be thrown.

Emma opens up a set of balcony doors that opens into the hotel's central vortex right as Frank finishes drawing back his arm and yells out a phrase.

"Fastball Special!"

He throws us out like a cannon and we soar across the void filled with tumbling hotel rooms. I see one enter our flight path and I throw up my arms in front of me in time to crash through the glass of floor to ceiling window in a particularly large suite. The leftover velocity carries me over halfway through the room until I land in a handspring and go shooting through the window on the other side.

--

(Frank and Emma POV)

The couple watches Michael and his vessel as he attempts to cross the center of the hotel through the chaotic flying rooms. Frank had shrunk back down again and was standing next to his wife.

"Do you think they are going to make it?" Emma asks her husband.

"It would take a miracle," he says.

--

(Felix Benjamin Faust POV)

I cross my arms over my chest as I fly through the panes of glass feet first like a champion diver. I reenter the maelstrom and my eyes dart around to find a window or door leading out to Gotham. My eyes catch a glimpse of one possibility before I land on the ceiling of another room. Charging additional energy into my legs, I spring off and fly through the air in the direction I saw a hallway window displaying the iconic Gotham skyline.

Another room crashes into me from the left side and my eyes dart to the right only to see another room hurtling towards me as well. I slap my hand against the approaching wall right before it impacts and release another Cleave which tears the wall to shreds. I sprint through the room before bursting through a door and leaping out once more.

The gap between us and the window was shrinking by the second, but I could already feel the well of energy I was drawing on start to get more shallow. Each leap was a touch slower and we would gain a hair less ground. My reactions were getting sluggish and the close scrapes kept getting closer. Every restoration of Hollow Wicker Basket was shredded faster than the last as Gojo's domain was overpowering the protection technique.

My saving grace was that we still had enough juice to make one last try at escaping. The only downside is it might not be enough to make it through. If only there was a way to boost the attack with what we still had.

'Longer attacks cost less,' a voice from the back of my mind whispered. The idea from Michael sparked a memory about a fantasy novel from when I was a kid. An old mage had said that the quicker and simpler a spell was, the weaker or more costly it became. There were three areas to consider: speed, power, and control. If I were to increase the wind up for the move, it should increase the power and energy input as a result of the trade off. If I remember correctly, one of the things that always took time was spell incantations. I guess it is kind of like saying the move names when I used Cleave. If I were to give a prologue to the move, it might be what we need to seal the deal.

"Like the day was divided into night and day, let the world be divided once more."

"Like mankind was separated into man and woman, let the soul be separated once more."

"Like the heavens were split into angel and demon, let reality be split once more."

"Let the cut which severs space and rends Infinity itself be invoked upon this world once more."

"Dismantle."

I release the technique and watch as the layer of Neutral Limitless coating the barrier is torn to pieces as a massive slash mark is ripped through the defense. As I pass through the momentary gap, I crash through the window I was aiming for and begin to fall to the distant street below me as I finally leave the hotel.

However, right as I was about to begin hurtling towards the concrete and asphalt below, a hand reaches out and grabs my leg. I look up from my position hanging upside down and I see that the person holding my leg was a grinning Gojo.

"I guess you still lose this one, Ben," Gojo says.

"You might have won the battle, Gojo," I admit. "But I won the war."

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I immediately send the text that was saved and ready to go. With my internet signal finally restored outside of the hotel, there was nothing stopping me from tapping the send button and getting the happy chime when it was successfully delivered.

"You didn't," Gojo says in disbelief as he reads the name of the recipient from the phone.

"I did," I admit. "Desperate times call for desperate measures."

The name on the ID was 'Hime-chan' and the message simply said, 'Help. Gojo is trying to kill me.'

Moments later, a piercing yell cut through the air and made Gojo wince from the confirmation that he was desperately hoping wasn't going to come.

"GOJO!!!!!!"

Heh, I had to pull out the big guns for this but damn it was worth it.

--

(Minutes Later)

We were back in our apartment which was thankfully repaired after Gojo's brief homicide spree. I was being fussed over by one of Gojo's wives while Gojo was having his head beat in by another two.

Before today, I didn't know all that much about Gojo's personal life and past beyond him saying he used to be a teacher in Japan for a while. The only thing I really knew was the reason he spent so much time hanging out with me in a bachelor pad in his hotel. To put it simply, he was constantly hiding from his wives.

That is wives with an 's'. Meaning multiple. The only thing more shocking than realizing he had four wives is realizing that any woman wanted to marry him in the first place. He might be one of my best friends, but even I have to admit that he has a trash fire of a personality. To be honest, Gojo is still just as confused as I am about the fact that they actually wanted to marry him.

The one currently checking me over was Kasumi Miwa, the wife commonly accepted to be nice one. The ones trying to give Gojo a concussion are Utahime Iori, the angry wife, and Riko Amanai, the fun one. The final wife, the calm one, is Shoko Ieri who is standing off to the side and laughing as her fellow wives smack her husband's head like a drum.

"Are you sure you are okay?" Kasumi asks me as she finishes looking me over for injuries. Despite being so close to dying for so long, I have a miraculous lack of major injuries besides some shallow cuts from broken glass.

"Doing great," I tell her with a thumbs up. "Just tired."

'By the way, thanks for the advice, Michael,' I think to my passenger. 'That really helped with Dismantle.'

'What are you taking about?' he asks. 'I didn't give you any advice. I just helped you use the technique.'

"Wait, then who gave me the advice about making the buildup longer?" I ask out loud.

"That's what I was trying to warn you about," Gojo says as he catches Utahime and Riko's hands to stop them from hitting him more. "Michael is not the only new addition to your soul. You have another stowaway nestled up in there."

"Wait, what?" I ask as I look down at my chest like something is going to pop out of it. "Who else is in me? I was already pushing it with a fallen angel. I don't need someone else crawling around."

"Why don't you ask Michael?" Gojo says with a twitching vein on his forehead. "Because I definitely must be seeing things. Otherwise, why would it be someone he told the other Kings he killed centuries ago?"

"Don't be mad, but I have a confession to make," Michael replies as his mouth reforms and he opens an eye. "I did not remember I did this until right now, but I would ask that you take that up with Past Me. Present Me has nothing to do with that."

"Who was he supposed to kill?" I ask. "I get the feeling it was someone I should really be worried about."

"When Michael here was first traveling across the multiverse after becoming a Contractor for the Company, he eventually came across a man named Ryomen Sukuna," Gojo explains. "Michael found and ingested the fingers which carried portions of Sukuna's soul until he eventually fought him at full strength, defeated him, and absorbed him. It is where he got his cutting attacks from as well as the four eyes and the nickname 'King of Curses.' He ended up absorbing a couple more versions of Sukuna over the years. However, there was one variant which almost put him in the ground."

"He sounds like he was pretty strong," I say. "How powerful was Michael at the time?"

"Michael was still a Tier 12," Gojo answers. "The thing is, he was actually a she. Ryona Sukuna, the Queen of Curses. They say she was a twin of Sukuna's who ended up killing him in the womb. She was a Tier 12 Contractor as well. Both of them were so strong that they were only a hair shy of ascending to Tier 13. In all honesty, the fight would be the final push that evolved whoever won. This was still long before Michael was ever recruited by the Consortium and even longer before I ever became a Contractor, so I have only ever heard stories from the other Kings. The fight was supposed to be legendary, even within the Company. 100 worlds were destroyed as the battle raged on. As the story goes, Michael won by sheer luck as Ryona collapsed from her wounds first. He consumed her and was supposed to have absorbed her power and elevated to Tier 13. He became known as the Red King and Ryona Sukuna, the woman who would have been the Red Queen, faded into legend. But that is not how it went down, is it, Michael?"

"I did win and did consume her power, but I couldn't fully absorb her spirit," Michael admits with distaste. "She was just buried deep within me, powerless to escape as her strength was just a memory. I decided I was going to get rid of her by tossing her into the next Contractor I recruited, but I set it up right before everything went down. If it had gone to plan, she would have been trapped in someone new who could hopefully defeated her before she took them over. I would have told them going in since it would be a faster power progression with the price of possession. I forgot to undo the Binding Vow which would have shifted her out of me before we made our contract and it seems like she is probably rattling around your soul like I am."

"Oh, no," I say. "This is worse than I ever could have imagined."

"Having a surprise homicidal Heian era Jujutsu sorcerer in your soul would probably do it," Gojo agrees. "Especially since she is mixed in along with Michael too much for me to remove safely."

"Wait, what?" I ask, confused about his response. "That's not what I am worried about."

"What else could you possibly be worried about?" he asks.

"A girl is inside of my body," I say with a shiver of disgust. "I feel dirty."

Gojo and his wives all look at each other before looking at me. They break out laughing in unison while Michael joins in. I just give them an unamused look as they all continue to chuckle at what they felt was misplaced worry about my current situation.

--

(Tomorrow Morning)

I am walking towards the locker room of the 12th Precinct where I was stationed for my first day of work when an officer stopped me.

"Faust, right?" he asks.

"Yeah, what's up?" I reply. "I didn't think I was late or anything."

"Lieutenant Gordon wants to have a word with you," the cop says. "He is the lieutenant for the Homicide detectives, so it is a bad idea to keep him waiting."

"Got it," I say before I go off in search of the lieutenant.

I find him after asking for directions a few times. I knock on his door before he calls for me into his office.

The lieutenant was a man in his forties with orangish red hair that was beginning to grey at the temples. His features were stern and commanding beneath his black framed glasses and mustache. He wore a white dress shirt along with a blue tie. The man gave me a calculating look for a moment until he gestured to the seat in front of his desk with the pen he was holding.

"Hello, Officer Faust," he says. "Should I call you Felix? I heard you also go by Ben."

"Either is fine, lieutenant," I answer. "Pardon my curiosity, but am I in trouble? I didn't think it was common for a Homicide lieutenant to want to talk with a freshly graduated rookie on his first day."

"It is not," Gordon admits. "However, a pressing matter has come up that I hear you could help us with."

"Anything you need, sir," I say. "What would you need me to do?"

"We recently arrested a man with potential ties to a suspect on a homicide," he explains. "Since we want to see if the suspect would try and make contact with the prisoner, we wanted to have someone replace him so we could run surveillance on anyone who tries to approach. From the looks of it, you have a strong resemblance to the man we are detaining. This makes you the perfect choice."

"Of course, sir," I reply. "What would I be doing?"

"You would go through the man's typical daily life," Gordon says as he slides a list of tasks over the desk. "Pick up some groceries, retrieve dry cleaning, take his car to get the oil changed. Standard stuff."

I look over the list and have a sneaking suspicion about the nature of it. I decide to take a shot in the dark to confirm my theory. "I think you mixed up the lists, sir," I say as I hand it back. "That was the copy your wife gave you."

"Shit, really?" he asks as he reaches out for it. He realizes I caught him about a second later and winces. "You figured it out."

"Yeah, it reminded me of a list I saw my buddy's wife fight for him last night," I reply. "You still need me to do them?"

"Unfortunately," Gordon sighs. "I have been pulling all nighters for a week and I haven't been able to do anything my wife asked me to do before she comes home from a work conference tomorrow. I heard from the academy teachers that you were a straight shooter. I was hoping you could help me out."

"It's cool with me," I admit. "It wouldn't be the worst way to spend my day."

"Thanks," Gordon says. "Now, I just need to find someone who can take my daughter to the piano recital."

"I could do that," I offer. "It probably shouldn't take very long to finish most of this. I could knock this stuff out and still have plenty of time to take her."

"You would seriously be willing to spend your night driving a twelve year old girl to a piano recital, staying the whole time to record the entire show, and then going to get food?" Gordon asks.

"I don't have anything else to do, so it would help fill my night," I answer. "It is also an excuse to get takeout instead of cooking at home."

Lieutenant Gordon looks at me for another moment like he was trying to judge me. Apparently, he seemed to like what he saw.

"Alright," he concedes. "But if a single thing happens to my daughter, I will show you what happens to a human body when it is chained up and dragged by a police cruiser for ten miles at highway speeds."

"If anything does, you can make it twenty miles," I promise him.

He chuckles at my response and tosses me a pair of keys and a piece of paper with an address. "My car is down in the lot," he says. "An officer can show you the way. Make sure not to scratch it and only have them use full synthetic oil at the mechanic. Pick up my daughter at the address at five p.m. on the dot. She will give you any directions you need."

"Got it, sir," I say with a thumbs up.

--

(Hours Later)

I check my watch as I wait in front of the school. It was already a minute after five and none of the kids that had passed by were Gordon's daughter. This really sucked since the trunk was full of groceries and I couldn't dump them at the lieutenant's house because he never told me the address. I just hope the kid gets here and tells me where to go before anything goes bad.

I reach over to grab my water bottle and start to take a drink. As I turn back to look at the front of the school, I am greeted with the chilling sight of a kid standing right next to the window and looking straight into my eyes. I promptly choke on the water and spend the next thirty seconds trying to remember how to breathe.

Said child was completely unamused at my attempts to not suffocate. She just signaled for me to roll down the window which I did after I recovered. Wait a second. Judging eyes? Red hair? It was like looking at a tiny female version of the Lieutenant. She even had the same unamused deadpan.

"What are you doing in my dad's car?" she asked, her eyes judging my every reaction. I could tell that she was not very impressed so far.

"I am assuming you are Lieutenant Gordon's daughter?" I ask. "I am Officer Faust. You dad wanted me to pick you up for your piano recital."

"Prove it," she says. "If he really sent you, you should have some way to prove it. I don't remember him ever mentioning you before, so I have no reason to trust you and even less reason to get into that car."

I was about to respond when I realize how creepy this looks from an outside perspective and the fact that I have no way to prove my story. "Umm, your dad gave me his car keys to do all of the chores he forgot to do while your mom was on a trip?" I attempt to say.

"You could be a criminal who has been surveilling my family for a while and stole his keys," she responded. "You would know my mom was on a trip and that my dad is too scatter brained to remember. He barely remembers his badge some days."

I do my best to stifle my snicker at that little tidbit. It makes a lot more sense why he believed my trick about the lists so easily. It turns out that is something he genuinely does a lot. However, the girl's withering glare makes me seamlessly transition into a cough in an attempt to play it off.

"I guess you think I stole the chore list as well," I say. "I don't know how I am supposed to make you trust me when I genuinely don't even know your name."

"That is just about the only believable thing you have said so far," she replies before she holds out her hand. "Give me your phone."

"Why would I give you my phone?" I ask before I wilt beneath her renewed glare and immediately hand it over. "Yes, ma'am."

She punches in a phone number before calling and putting it on speakerphone. It rings for a few times before someone finally picks up.

"This is Bullock," the man answers. "Who's calling?"

"Be useful for once and go get my dad," Little Gordon says. "I need to talk with him."

"I am not your answering service, shrimp," Bullock replies. "Call him yourself."

"He never remembers to charge his phone until noon," she replies. "Or are you too drunk already to recall that?"

"Yeah, yeah," Bullock replies. "Gordon! Your gremlin wants to talk!"

A couple seconds pass before Lieutenant Gordon picks up. "Please tell me you aren't in the principal's office after another fight," the man says as he lets out a weary sigh.

"Did you send a goober who looks like he doesn't know which end of his gun the bullets come out of to pick me up from school?" she asks as she flips me off.

What the fuck is with this demon child?!

"That sounds like Faust," Gordon replies. "Did you give him a hard time?"

"She stole my lunch money and pushed me off the seesaw, sir," I say. "She even took my favorite spot when it was nap time."

My sarcasm was rewarded with the girl grabbing my ear and twisting it. Hard. I immediately break out into cries of pain. "Ow, ow, ow!!!" I shout. "Don't try and twist it off! Sir, you didn't tell me your daughter came from the factory with kung fu grip. How does a twelve year old have a hand like a pair of pliers?!"

"Please stop bullying my officers, Barbara," Lieutenant Gordon says. "Faust is doing me a favor and taking you to your recital since I am literally drowning in active cases right now. Please don't scare him off until tomorrow."

"Lieutenant, I need backup!" I call out before the newly named Barbara twists my ear more. "She is too dangerous! I need a SWAT team ASAP. Officer down!"

"Good luck, Ben," Gordon says ominously. "You are going to need it."

With those parting words, he hangs up the call and

What the hell is that supposed to mean?!

--

(Jim Gordon POV)

As he hung up the phone, he let himself smile at the fighting he had heard between the two. From everything he had heard and seen about Faust, he was as dependable and honest as they came. The fact that Barbara found him harmless enough to torment spoke volumes about him.

As he looked over the young man's file, he could see that he was a Gotham boy who had only gotten back to the city recently before enrolling in the academy. The rest of his past was scattered around the country from living with his father who had to move frequently for work. That was good since it meant he cared about the city without it having a chance to taint him while he was young. It gave him a better chance of staying on the straight and narrow going forward.

The only other hopeful prospect from the newest recruits was Renee Montoya. Almost as if fate was pulling the strings, she happened to be childhood friends with Faust. That made them both appear more trustworthy since it reinforced the positive images they each had.

As he thought back to the jokes Faust was making as a twelve year old girl was picking on him, it made the veteran lieutenant chuckle. Those two were probably going to get along great.

--

(Felix Benjamin Faust POV)

Me and Barbara stare at each other from our positions on either side of the dining table in the Gordon's apartment. We were in a deadlock and had resorted to psychological warfare to make the other admit defeat.

"I will tell my dad you tried to do weird things with me," Barbara says. "That's how crazy I am."

"I will shoot myself in the foot and say you stole my gun and were running around with it," I counter. "That's how crazy I am."

"I'm so crazy that I will jump off the fire escape and break my leg so I can blame it on you," she returns.

"I'm so crazy that I will eat rat poison and say you tried to poison me," I fire back.

"I'm so crazy that I will eat garbage out of the dumpster and say that's what you fed me," she replies.

"Yeah well, I'm so crazy I will drive us into Gotham Harbor and kill us both," I say.

"I will crawl inside of you and lay eggs like a spider!" she exclaims.

"I will bring a foam guitar to a pumpkin smash because that's how I was brought up!" I shout.

"Okay, you lost me there," Barbara admits.

"Because that's how crazy I am!" I shout.

It soon devolves into us just incoherently screaming at each other until Barbara's older brother comes out of his room.

"Can you idiots stop screaming at each other?!" James Jr., or just James as he preferred, shouts over us. "I have a test in three days and I can't focus with you both shouting as loud as humanly possible!"

We both quiet down quickly at the sixteen year old's admonishment.

"She started it," I say quickly as I point to the pint sized redhead. Her head whips around with a look that promises grave punishment for my little comment.

"Of course she did," James agrees. "Yet that doesn't excuse an adult from getting into a shouting match with a middle schooler." Barbara uses that as an excuse to stick her tongue out at me.

"Or apparently a five year old," he finishes saying. "What are you guys even fighting about again?"

"I don't want to go to the recital tonight but Faust over here is trying to force me to," Barbara says.

"Barbara, you are going to the recital, end of story," James replies. "Mom helped you practicing for way too long for you to quit now. I sure as hell am not going to explain to her why she doesn't have the video of her daughter that she has been waiting to watch when she gets home tomorrow."

Barbara visibly winces at the idea. "Okay, fine," she says before she whirls on me. "But I get to pick what we get for dinner!"

"Fine," I concede as I roll my eyes. I am just happy that she is finally giving up and just going to the damn recital.

"I couldn't give a fuck where you eat since I am staying at a friend's tonight," James says over his shoulder. "Have a fun time."

That just causes us to glare at each other again now that he is out of the room.

--

(Minutes Later)

As we are sitting in the car trying to get through traffic, I idly tap the wheel while Barbara stares out the window. Out of nowhere, she asks me a question.

"So, what is your favorite color?"

I have absolutely no response to that besides confusion. "Where is that coming from?" I inquire. "Why do you want to know more about me? I was under the impression that you hated me."

"I want to hate you properly," Barbara admits. "I can't exactly do that if I don't know anything about you."

"Fine," I grumble. "White."

"White?" she asks.

"Yes, my favorite color is white," I confirm.

"That is the lamest favorite color you could have possibly said," she laughs. "It would have been less boring if you had even said black."

"White is all the colors at once," I defend. "I don't think you can talk when your dress and room and painted the same shade of purple."

"I look good in purple," she scoffs as she glares at me. "My mom says it goes well with my hair."

"Yep," I admit. "Like a gargoyle and a grungy building."

"I bet you don't have a girlfriend if this is how you talk to girls," Barbara comments.

"I will have you know that I am a perfect gentleman when I am not talking to tiny sadists in purple dresses," I reply. "The only reason that I am single is because girls have an established aversion to long-term relationships with me. They know to get the hell out of Dodge before long."

"Wow, so you run them away because you are bad with commitment or do they leave because they see the equipment you are working with?" she asks with an innocent smile.

"I will have you know that none of my relationships have ended due to any physical shortcomings," I answer. I try and ignore the girl when she laughs at 'short'. "For your information, I am just a black cat. Bad luck follows me around. If you stay around me for too long, you get caught in it. Girls learn to leave while they are ahead and before they get swept up too."

"Sounds like you are just a quitter," Barbara snarks. "What happened? Have one bad relationship and just give up?"

"Central City, Coast City, Star City, Bar Harbor, Smallville, Athens, and New York," I count as I list them on my fingers. "One is happenstance. Two is coincidence. Seven girls in seven places is a pattern. To be honest, I have given up on the idea of finding any relationship that I expect to last. It is a lot easier to deal with breakups when you know they are coming."

"Isn't that really lonely?" Barbara asks with what a normal person might confuse with concern. I don't trust it though.

"You get used to it," I answer with a sad smile before I shake it off. "What about you? Married with kids, I am assuming?"

"Divorced, sadly," Barbara replies with a mournful expression. "He took the kids when he left. I was engaged to another man, but he was sadly lost at sea before the wedding. I spend my nights gazing out at the harbor until he returns."

"I am sorry for your loss," I say with a solemn nod. "Let me know if your ocean boy toy ever decides to crawl out of the harbor. I could even officiate the wedding."

"Duly noted," she says with a nod as we finally attain a calm silence until we get to the recital.

--

(An Hour Later)

The recital had gone well, but the kids had gone back behind the stage to talk with their instructor for a few minutes and grab anything they had brought with them. I was in the group of parents and family members waiting for their respective kids to come out. Unlike them, however, my attention was focused on a man who I was watching from the corner of my eye.

He had been here since the recital began, but I could tell that he wasn't invited. He had slick black hair, a goatee, and a scar running down the across his cheek down to his jaw. His eyes were always roving and watching the crowd to see if anyone had noticed him while he stuck to the outskirts. He was dressed in dark clothes that let him blend in with the shadows. I am also damn sure I saw him check his phone and look at a photo of Barbara. The itch to do something about him was thankfully about to be scratched since I saw him walk to the bathroom.

I guessed that I had a few minutes before the kids started coming out, so I decided to make my move. I followed after waiting for a couple of seconds to ensure that he didn't see me pursuing him. I notice a paper with weird black markings on the door to the men's room, but I ignore it in favor of focusing on the man I was following. I had barely slipped into the bathroom when he came from behind and grabbed me in a headlock.

"You think I wouldn't notice you eyeing me?" the man growls. "I was onto you from the start, pig."

I try and slam an elbow into his ribs, but it felt like I was trying to hit a concrete wall. My attacker just chuckled at the attempt.

"I guess you just aren't strong enough to get through my Iron Body," he laughed as the pressure on my neck increased. "After I am done with you, I am going to grab the Gordon brat for the boss. He is going to have a lot of fun using her as leverage over the good lieutenant. I can't wait to see what he does to the squirt to make her obedient. I just love to hear them scream."

It takes a lot to make me angry, but I could feel the rage boiling to the surface at his words. It burned and tore through any self restraint I might have had. If I was in my right mind, I would have wanted to arrest him and put him in jail. Now, I just wanted to put him in the ground.

Despite how annoying Mini-Gordon happened to be, I couldn't help but feel fond of her after the past couple of hours. The idea that this piece of shit was going to hurt Barbara pushed me over the edge.

I couldn't bring my gun into the auditorium, but I was able to sneak in my pocket knife. I pull it out of my pocket before flicking it open and stabbing it into the man's leg. It just glances off of his skin and makes him laugh again. That laugh makes me actually remember all of the negative emotions roaring inside of me. Like I did with Michael last night, I reach inside and grab onto them. I channel them through my arm and into the knife itself before I slam it into the man's leg once more.

This time, the knife sinks deep into the meat of the criminal's thigh. He cries out in pain from the new addition to his body and his grip on my neck thankfully loosens. I rip my way out of his grasp and take heaving breaths to recover the oxygen I was just running out of moments before.

"How did you get through my Iron Body?" the man snarled as he ripped out the knife and tosses it away. "You aren't Oriental, so I know it wasn't chakra. That sure as hell wasn't haki either. So what the fuck are you?!"

I channel my hate through my fists and watch as they ignite with blue and black flames of Cursed Energy. I give a vicious grin to the killer before responding.

"I am a Jujutsu sorcerer, bitch," I reply.

We both charge forward and proceed to beat the shit out of each other. My Cursed Energy manipulation was strong enough so that I could punch him hard enough to damage him through whatever Iron Body thing he was using, but it was weak enough that any punches he landed in return overwhelmed my physical reinforcement. I had a bit of experience after working together with Michael, but I was still clearly an amateur. The only reason I was keeping up so well was because I was controlling the flow like it was a second body of energy overlaid on my physical form. That was how it felt when Michael was regulating it when we were running from Gojo.

I scored a series of punches to his face, but he returned the assault with a couple of body blows before grabbing me by the back of my head. He proceeded to slam it into the sink counter over and over. Every time that my head went through the counter, he would just move over and repeat. My vision was blurry from all of the concussions he gave me, but I kept control long enough to focus my Cursed Energy into my elbow and slam it deep into his gut. He doubled over from the blow which gave me a chance to grab his head and send it through a sink in return. When he fell to the floor, I picked up a large chunk of porcelain from a shattered sink and brought it down across his head. It shattered into a dozen pieces against his skull, but he wasn't out of the fight yet.

He grabs my ankle before flipping me off of my feet. I crash down to the wet floor and quickly roll out of the way before he could slam an elbow into my chest. I grab onto the metal pipe traveling from the bottom of a sink and into the wall before I break it off. I funnel my Cursed Energy through the stretch of stainless steel before I swing it right into the criminal's knee while he tried to stand up. It crumples to the side and brings him down to his knees until I swing the pipe up into his chin. His head whips back from the blow as the pipe finally breaks.

I thought that would be enough to finally put him down, but the bastard had the balls to actually stand up again. He glared at me from behind wet hair which had been soaked from the water pooling on the floor from the broken sinks. He rushed forward with a roar as he tried to land a punch into my body. I tried to return the attacks, but it was like his defense got harder in moments. From how it felt when I tried to hit him, it was like he was already tensed wherever the hit landed.

He must be doing the same thing I am doing. He is focusing his ability in smaller areas to boost its effectiveness. I had been using it to enhance my attacks at times, but he must be using it for defense. The only weakness is that it leaves you weaker in the places you aren't focused on. I can't make use of this very easily because he keeps shifting his focus to wherever I attack. It's not like I can attack in the same place after he stops focusing.

Wait, who says I can't? I am already imagining my Cursed Energy like a shadow following my motions. What if I slowed it down so it is a second behind?

Trusting in my idea about how he was using his power, I slowly weaken my punches to make him think I was running out of steam. After a couple of exchanges, the grin on his face came back once he felt he was pushing me into a corner in the fight. That made him quicker to focus his Iron Body on his attacks after he succeeded in blocking my punch.

Using my only chance, I throw a hard punch at his cheek only to feel the punch do nothing. He winds up for a counter just as I feel the skin on his cheek soften from his release of Iron Body. This was perfect timing as a burst of Cursed Energy coursed down the length of my arm as my energy shadow finally caught up. In a blast of blue energy, the second impact crashes into his unprotected head and rocks it back. His eyes lose focus as the hit gives him a concussion and makes him lose his concentration.

I make the most of it by battering on him with my blows resynchronized with my Cursed Energy. Each strike dug into him since he was momentarily unable to use Iron Body. This left him experiencing the full strength of a novice Jujutsu sorcerer like myself. He tries to put up a defense against me, but I push through it without breaking a sweat. His Iron Body ability was the only thing he had going for him and he was just a normal guy without it. With one last uppercut, I send him flying up into the air before he crashes down into the pooling water.

I sigh in relief as I finally release my Cursed Energy. That shit was tough as hell to control and I feel like I have a splitting headache from using it as much as I did. My brain was pounding as I notice I have a bloody nose. That didn't pair well with the bone tired exhaustion and aching pains I am hit with. Motherfucker hit hard, I will give him that.

My thoughts were promptly cut off when I am tackled from behind and find the man I had just beaten driving my knife down at me. I immediately catch his arms to hold the knife away from my chest, but I am struggling to hold him away since he is using his weight to drive the knife down. I try to call on my Cursed Energy, but I struggle to even control it. My headache flares up even worse the one time I almost manage it.

So, I am stuck using good old muscle strength to avoid getting stabbed in a destroyed bathroom. I just knew those hours at the gym would finally be useful in a situation like this.

As the blade descends closer to my shirt, I realize this is a losing game. This guy outweighs me by an easy fifty pounds and I am already tired as shit from the lack of sleep last night. The only way I win this is by fighting dirty.

I yank on his arms and guide the knife to stab in the gap between my torso and arm. It nicked my side, but I take that as a welcome trade instead of a new hole in my chest. Once the stab failed, I wrapped on hand around the back of his neck and pull him into a headbutt. My forehead slammed into his nose and caused it to gush blood as the cartilage was mangled from the strike. The pain made him lose his grip on the knife which I immediately grab before ramming into the base of his throat.

I don't know who was more surprised to see the knife sticking out of his throat, me or the bad guy. He just looked down at the blade sticking out of him with confusion before coughing up blood that trickled out of his mouth. After another couple seconds, he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. I just looked on in horror as his blood poured out in the water covering the bathroom floor. It plumed into the water before it was flowed away through the drain in the middle of the floor.

"What the fuck?" I ask as I look at the murder scene with shock. I then realize I just killed someone. I literally just killed someone. He was going to kill me, but I actually killed him. I am so screwed. Forget being a cop. I'll be lucky if I don't go to prison. This is so fucked!

"What are you whining about now?" Michael says as he forms a mouth on my cheek and opens an eye. "I could hear you bitching from all the way in my nap."

It is right about then that he notices the destroyed bathroom and the dead criminal with a knife in his throat. "How the hell did this happen?" he asks.

"A guy was trying to kidnap my boss's daughter," I explain. "He had some kind of Iron Body ability which made him really tough and strong, so I had to use Cursed Energy to beat him. He tried to stab me and I ended up stabbing him."

"You beat a guy who knew one of the Six Arts from One Piece," Michael says as he seemed to doubt the words as they left his mouth. "And you did it by using Cursed Energy. You know, like a Jujutsu sorcerer."

"I don't know what a One Piece is, but yeah," I confirm. "That's the long and the short of it."

"How do you know how to use Cursed Energy?" Michael asks in disbelief. "You only got it when we made our contract. That was just twenty four hours ago. You don't just get Cursed Energy and beat a Tier 4 criminal with Jujutsu in the same day. That's not how it works."

"Well, I just recreated what you did when we were running from Gojo last night," I admit. "I was really angry, so that helped me focus on the Cursed energy too. Everything else was kind of a blur."

"Everything else was kind of a blur," Michael repeats. "I somehow regret choosing you as a vessel more with each passing moment. How exactly are you going to get out of this one? You clearly just murdered this guy. Better question is why no one tried to walk inside of here during the fight."

"There was some kind of paper on the door while some kind of ink drawing when I walked in," I tell him. "As for how I get out of this, I thought you would have ideas."

"Why do I have to do everything myself?" Michael wonders out loud. "Whatever. The seal on the door was probably made by a ninja. It most likely soundproofed the door and helped repel any random person from walking in. You can probably get a Consortium cleaner here to fix this mess. I remember the number."

I dial it like he instructed but it hung up immediately after answering. I was about to ask Michael when a man walks inside while crumpling up the seal that was on the door. He was dressed in a black three piece suit with a white dress shirt, had both ears pierced with black earrings, and his long dark hair was pulled into a bun besides a lock that fell into his face.

"Geto Cursed Cleaners," he says. "You crash it, we clean it. Suguru Geto at your service. I believe you called."

"We need a restoration and removal," Michael says. "Don't forget to use the Six Eyes Hotel discount and the first time cleaning coupon. I am not going to let you swindle my vessel out of anything. Only I get to do that."

"Long time no see, Michael," Geto replies. "Gojo told me you were sticking around the hotel for a while. I guess the rumors of your death were greatly exaggerated."

"Of course they were," Michael retorts. "Faust, this is Geto. He is one of Gojo's oldest pals. He has Cursed Spirit Manipulation as his main ability. It allows him to bind and control spirits formed from Cursed Energy so that he can make use of their abilities."

"These days I can create contracts with almost any creature," Geto corrects as a black portal appears behind him and a cube of green slime slides out. It jiggles forward and starts to slide over pieces of scattered porcelain from the sinks. The shards were picked up by the cube and begin to visibly dissolve inside of it. "I use a variety of magical creatures to bring my customers the best service across the multiverse."

Another portal appears and a group of small mouse sized spiders crawl out of it. They skitter over Geto's shoulder and jump from him to me. I do my best to freeze immediately to prevent them from trying to attack me. Luckily, they just start to mend my torn clothing. A worm with rocky segments covering it begins to reconstruct the sinks with stone that it sprayed from its mouth while the slime cube sucked up all of the remaining water. A little monkey with a wrench hopped under newly formed sinks and fixes up the pipes so there were no traces of any fights to the death.

"Now it is time to check for bounties," Geto says as he takes a picture of the dead man's face with a cellphone. "Oh, look. Four million dollars. Not too bad for your first bounty. Says here he was able to use Iron Body. The Six Arts can be tricky to fight against for a beginner. How long have you been using Cursed Energy? I can sense it from here."

"Last night," I say.

"You finally started imbuing your attacks last night?" he clarifies with a touch of confusion.

"No, I got my Cursed Energy last night," I explain.

Geto takes a moment to process the statement before just deciding to accept it. "Gojo seems to find the weirdest people, no matter what dimension he is in," he says with a resigned sigh. "It makes sense why your nose is bleeding and you probably have a killer headache. Your brain isn't used to controlling the flow of Cursed Energy and you were pushing it harder than it could handle. I can fix you up though."

He summons a mosquito creature which lands on my neck and stabs me. I reflexively slap my neck, but the bug had already flown away. My body began to react to whatever it did since I could feel the headache fade away as the broken skin on my knuckles healed over and my bones didn't scream at me whenever I moved.

"Much obliged," I say with a nod.

"No problem," Geto assures me as he uses a small handheld calculator thing that one of his creatures brought him. "It is included in the service. Now, I have finished processing the bounty and calculating my expenses. All in all, my services cost an even hundred thousand when you include cleaning, bounty exchange, body disposal, bank fees, minor memory adjustments, and video editing. No one looking for this guy will ever connect the two of you from cameras or witnesses. You will be walking away from this three million and nine hundred thousand dollars richer. Not bad at all."

His little machine chimes for a second before a card ejects from the top. He hands it to me and I see that my name is stamped in golden letters on the front of the card along with a golden 'C' set in the center of a crest. The only other mark was a purple circle dotted to the right of the crest.

"That is your credit card tied to your account with Consortium Credit Services," Geto informs me. "It will store your bounty money so you don't have to make any excuses about where you got over three million dollars from. The bank also deals with currencies from any other worlds you might visit in the future as well as the Company-backed currency, credits. If you ever need a safety deposit box, establish a will, or take out a loan, they are the people to go to. Just watch out for them trying to trap you with bullshit fees. The Gold King keeps tricking newbies into terrible deals before they learn to watch their wallets."

"Thanks, I guess," I say as I look down at the magic money card in my hand. I don't know what is more overwhelming right now, the fact that I killed someone or the fact that I just got almost four million dollars because of it. I am just going to pack this whole freak out for later.

"I will be seeing you," Geto replies as his creatures fade away in the black portals he summoned. A bandage creature had wrapped up the body and carried it into a portal as well. "I need to drop this guy off at the nearest exchange office before heading down to yet another Worm universe. Apparently people still need to learn restraint when unleashing a swarm of Terminids from Helldivers against criminals. Skitter substitutes are so annoying."

With a strange exit that was oddly fitting for a friend of Gojo's, Geto hops into a portal and disappears as well.

"Wait a second, what were you doing while I was almost dying?" I ask Michael once I remember that he finally decided to make an appearance.

"I was trying to sleep," the fallen angel replied. "I have better things to do than watch you every minute of the day. Don't you have brat you are supposed to be watching by the way?"

"Oh, shit," I say when I remember that I was supposed to be waiting on Mini-Gordon once she came out from the post-recital meeting with the instructor. "I can't believe I forgot Barbara for a second there."

I check myself in the restored mirror and see that I look completely normal. There was absolutely no evidence I just avoided death moments ago by a hair. Wait, Geto took my pocket knife when he left with the body. Shit. Oh well, it is probably for the best that I don't keep the murder weapon.

I leave the bathroom to find that the majority of the parents are still in the process of leaving. It would have been really awkward if I had left Barbara waiting alone. As it stood, she was still standing there with her arms crossed and a scowl on her little face.

"We are going to Big Belly Burger," she tells me. I could tell that this was an order, not a request. "You will be buying me a large milkshake, deep fried apple pie, chili fries, mozzarella sticks, and anything else I could possibly think of. Otherwise, I will tell my dad you were just asking for me to get kidnapped by leaving me alone to take forever in the bathroom."

I just decide to let the whole kidnapping thing go despite the fact I just saved her from a super powered kidnapping attempt. "As you wish, milady," I say as I gesture to the door. "Your chariot awaits. We mustn't dally on our way to the feast."

Barbara is clearly pleased at me finally treating her with the respect she deserves as she begins to walk towards the exit. "If you keep this up, I just might forgive you," she says.

"My lady, you are a paragon of mercy and benevolence," I reply as I follow her to the car before we embark on a grease filled food adventure. I remember the small digital camera I recorded the recital on was still in my jacket pocket so I check it real quick only to find it looked better than when I picked it up from the Gordon's apartment. Geto was so worth that 100 grand.

--

(Jim Gordon POV)

As he unlocked the door to his apartment, he found a scene he never expected. Barbara was passed out on the couch while bundled up in Felix's jacket and covered with a blanket. Felix himself was sitting in a nearby chair with his head propped up on his fist. The kid had clearly fallen asleep while keeping watch over Barbara.

The lieutenant couldn't help but chuckle at how normal the scene looked. He picked up the Barbara bundle off of the couch and gently carried her to her room. She woke up as he was tucking her in and blearily looked around.

"Hey, Dad," she says with a yawn as her eyes struggled to stay open. "I told Ben I could stay awake until you got home. Jokes on him. He said I was gonna fall asleep."

"I take it you had a good day?" he asks. "Did Faust seem like a good guy? He didn't try anything weird, did he?"

"Today was great," she says. "Faust was real fun. He let me eat all the food I wanted. I wish he didn't remember to have me brush my teeth. What a killjoy."

"So, it seems like he is a nice guy after all," he says to himself. It was good to find another cop who had t been corrupted by the city yet. The GCPD needed more men like that.

"He was just a little sad," Barbara says as she finally began to succumb to sleep. "He seems lonely."

With that last message, she proceeded to snore quietly as she finally succumbed to sleep.

"Lonely, huh?" Jim thought. Barbara was smart for her age, so he wasn't surprised that she caught it. She always had been observant which is why he thought she would probably grow up to be a cop one of these days.

He carried the blanket Barbara had been wrapped in back to the living room before catching sight of the rookie officer still sleeping in the chair. He laid the blanket over the young man and watched as he pulled it around him in his sleep before settling down again.

Jim just left him in the chair to keep sleeping. He didn't see a point in ruining the kid's rest after he watched Hurricane Barbara all day. It was the least he deserved for surviving it for the first time.

--

(Michael/Red King POV)

(When he was 'sleeping')

Michael was awoken from his nap by the sound of splashing water. He had been resting upon his throne of bones inside of his Innate Domain, Malevolent Shrine. With a glance, there should have been nothing in here but bones in a pool of blood. He sees the point where the sound came from since the ripples were still radiating from the spot in question. He strode down the hill of scattered bones until he reached the edge of the blood.

He looked in it, but he couldn't make out whatever had made the noise. Right when he was about to chalk it up to a strange dream, several chains burst from the crimson blood and wrap around his body. They drag him down beneath the surface in moments and pull him deep into the blood's depths.

He struggled against the chain's grasp, but they burned his hands with searing cold when he tried to rip them off. It was like it was trying to freeze his soul, or whatever he technically had.

It doesn't last long because he feels the chains loosen enough for him to swim back to the surface. He breaches the blood and pulls himself out to the stability of solid ground. Even if he was just a spirit, he takes a few breaths to calm down after being attacked in his Innate Domain. What even were those things?

As he opens his four eyes again, he realizes that he is not in Malevolent Shrine anymore. Wherever he happened to be was pitch black and the floor was cool concrete instead of the bone he expected. He tried to illuminate the environment with a small spark of Divine Flame, but something was suppressing his Cursed Technique.

He was still trying to find another solution when he hears something metallic clatter on the concrete floor before rolling closer. It bumps to a stop against his leg before he picks it up to examine it. Pressing a button on the side, one end illuminates and projects a cone of light onto the nearby floor. Why on earth would a flashlight conveniently come rolling up to him when he was trapped in the dark after almost dying? This seemed just like the start of a horror movie to the fallen angel.

The demonic king moved the flashlight around to get a better view of his surroundings only to find himself in an old abandoned prison. The bars enclosing each cell was covered in rust as their doors hung open. The only sounds that he could hear where his own breathing and the occasional drop of blood that dropped off of his black suit and splashed on the ground.

The peace and quiet was ruined by the clinking of a chain against some of the cell bars. Michael whipped around only for an empty cell to be revealed. The loose end of a chain that was looped around some of the bars was swaying slightly and gently striking the rusty metal of the bar. He almost relaxed until he remembered that there was nothing in here which should have bumped the chain and make it move in the first place.

He was joking to himself about it seeming like a horror movie before, but now he was having second thoughts. This was far too odd to be a dream of his and there were only so many possible explanations. Could this be Faust's Innate Domain? Doubtful. He had met the kid and he could say for certain that he wasn't secretly a serial killer. Who else would have a slasher movie for an Innate Domain?

His train of thought was derailed by the long drawn out squeal of a cell door swinging shut before it slams closed. The click of the lock rings out through the prison corridor and sent a shiver up the spine of the Red King. That was definitely not a coincidence.

He brought himself to turn towards the direction the noise came from and aimed the flashlight down the hallway. The only thing that caught his eye was a length of steel chain which was lying across the floor. From the looks of it, the chain had fallen out of one of the nearby cells since one end was still trailing through the bars.

As he watched, the chain slowly began to be pulled through the bars slowly. It disappeared into the cell on link at a time as it clanked and scraped against the metal as it passed through. The chain began to speed up faster and faster until the last stretch whips into the cell with a crash and vanishes from sight. A moment later, the cell's door begins to swing closed as well. The rusty metal hinges protest its movement, but the only sign of its deteriorated condition was in the piercing sound it made as it closed. The lock rocking into place told Michael, the infamous Red King and one of the strongest Jujutsu sorcerers in any world, everything he needed to know. As such, he immediately ran in the other direction as fast as possible.

The prison seemed to come alive as he ran. The sound of cells slamming shut began to speed up with each step he took. The crashing metal seemed to follow half a step behind him, taunting him that he was one mistake away from a terrible fate. Bars would shake like rioting prisoners were trying to break through from the other side. Chains lashed out from cells which Michael barely managed to dodge in time. Thankfully, they did not slow him down and he managed to maintain his meager distance ahead of the wave of unnatural activity. However, to top it all off, his flashlight began to die as its light would flicker on and off. It absolutely made the whole experience far worse. 10/10 and would not come again.

His saving grace came when he saw a faint light in the distance that wasn't coming from his near useless flashlight. It seemed to grow brighter by the moment and it was Michael's only chance of not getting trapped by whatever this place was. He could only hope it wasn't like the light of an anglerfish, designed to lure in prey before the killing blow.

He sees the light was being released through a single doorway which he proceeded to sprint towards. The prison seemed to react to his impending escape and seemed to try even harder to get its claws in him. He was a hair shy of capture right before he dived into the lit doorway and a wooden door slammed shut behind him. Seeing the prison sealed away behind that barrier of worn brown wood, he gave a sigh of relief.

He turns from the door to see he was now in an old church. Light filtered in from stained glass windows that lined the walls and conveyed scenes from the Bible. Empty pews were neatly arranged, albeit coated in a layer of dust from years of neglect. A window in the shape of a cross stood in the wall above the alter and cast a path of illumination up the central walkway. For a fleeting moment, he considered taking his chances with the prison. At least, that was before a voice rang out from deeper in the room.

"So it seems you finally decided to make an appearance, Michael," the woman said. "I was worried you wouldn't survive the prison. It would have been a shame for you to die before I got a chance to kill you."

As it turns out, the pews were not as empty as he originally thought. He had missed the head of long pink hair initially, but he couldn't ignore the familiar voice. It had been centuries since he had heard it out loud. The last time was right before he slit her throat and ascended to Tier 13.

"You just had to show up too, Ryona," Michael says with a scoff as he walks down the walkway between the pews and picks a seat on the opposite side of the path from Ryona. "I guess it was too much to ask for when I tried to pawn you off and hope you and your new vessel would kill each other. Nice job, Dad. Couldn't have done it any better myself."

"You still believe in God," Ryona laughs as she lounges in her pew. She wore the same white robe with blue trimming that her brother Ryomen was known for and shared the same four red eyes that Michael also possessed. The main difference with his brother was that she never bothered with the extra arms, mouth, and the facial morphing for her right eyes. Her long pink hair trailed over her shoulder and formed a beautiful face marked with the same tattoos the kid manifested when he was helping him. Michael never carried on those traits of Sukuna, so it explained why they appeared in Faust. "I thought you would despise him for casting you and your brothers down after you lost."

"We were weaker," Michael responds with a shrug. "We tried to overthrow him and we lost. I am not going to hate him for being stronger. That is the folly of the truly weak. After all, dead old Dad always was a softie. Even after betraying him, he didn't erase us like blowing a slate clean."

"I thought you would know better by now," Ryona says. "Anyone claiming to be God is just a Contractor with delusions of grandeur. I should know. I killed my fair share on my way to the top."

"You act like just because you never saw him doesn't mean he was never there," Michael retorts. "He shapes our lives in ways we could never understand because we are shackled by the simple fact we are lesser than He who created everything."

"Now you just sound like a fanatic," Ryona replies with distaste. "Are you going to be teaching Sunday School now or just organizing the next bake sale?"

"Just because I acknowledge His power doesn't mean I dance to his tune," Michael clarifies. "I live my life how I want to live it. If that lines up with His plans, good for Him. It doesn't matter much to me either way."

"I still don't understand how you can believe He actually exists when the Company does," Ryona chuckles. "Why would your God allow a group of multiversal slave traders to rape and pillage their way across existence."

"Same reason he let humans wage war and kill one another," Michael says. "What's the point of creating humans if they need to be managed every step of the way? He chooses to let them make their own choices, make their own mistakes. To God, humans always shine the brightest when they are overcoming their own darkness. Now, I don't really understand where he is coming from. I don't give two shits how they live their lives. I would probably just find it boring to watch them sit around eating protein paste and staring at walls all day."

"So you really believe the actual God still exists, if he ever did?" Ryona asks with disbelief.

"To be honest, yeah," Michael says. "I don't want anything to do with him or Heaven, but I still believe that there is something for people to believe in. I still think I remember meeting him once. It was just after I was brought to life by His hand. I can't remember what he really looked like. It was kind of like when a baby is born. Even if their eyes were good enough to see their mom and dad right away, their minds wouldn't be able to really process what they were seeing. Still, I can almost close my eyes and remember how it felt when He smiled at me."

"Is that why you are working for the goody two shoes in the Consortium?" she inquired. "The little spot of light in the darkness that your Daddy loves to see?"

"No, I just work with them because they aren't boring like most Contractors," Michael admits. "Contractors living out power fantasies are a dime a dozen. The guys who end up in Consortium always seem driven, like they are living their own lives by their own power instead of following any wayward impulse that goes through their head. It is a lot more interesting than sitting around incels who use their second life as a chance to live out their pathetic dreams. So, why the bullshit talking? I expected you to want to fight."

"We can't fight in here," she answers. "I thought about it but just the idea made the door back there start to rattle. It seems like this is supposed to be a place of tranquility. You picked a weird one for your vessel if his Innate Domain is anything to go by."

"I was hoping this wasn't his actual domain," Michael says. "It tried to get me on my way through. I didn't think that could happen with our contract."

"My guess is that the Innate Domain can't tolerate our presence for very long," Ryona muses. "It probably is holding back since we were brought into his soul through the contract, but it reacts poorly to anything with enough blood on their hands. We have whole worlds of blood between the two of us, so it makes sense that it would lash out."

"The prison theme fits for a kid who became a cop," Michael acknowledges. "No clue why this church is here though. His Cursed Technique probably isn't a simple one. Now that we are done with the little domains distraction, what is your game here?"

"The same game you already wanted to play," Ryona says before tapping one of her pointed nails against her temple. "Don't you remember? You wanted the next Contractor you recruited to be stuck with me and end up fighting me to the death. Who says you can't still do that?"

"I am personally invested in Faust surviving long term," Michael answers. "The upwards potential of those from Nexus worlds is infinitely more than those from most conventional ones. With him as my vessel, I can restore myself to my previous power quicker than I ever could in another body."

"That's the same reason I want to stay nice and cozy in here," Ryona agrees. "We get dragged up by the kid's growth. I have a lot of recovering to do after centuries of barely surviving in you. Benjy Boy here is my express ticket back to the top."

"What happens when you are done with recovering?" Michael asks. "I doubt you would be content just living in Faust forever."

"Like you planned, we would fight to the death," she explains. "If he won, he would kill me and absorb my power. If I win, I get to escape this body and go on my merry way. Sure, I will come back to fight you eventually. However, that will be long in the future. Once I am gone, you will have this body all to yourself. Even if he wins, you don't have to worry about me anymore."

"A promising deal," Michael says as he mulls it over. "It would make things more interesting. I could either get rid of you permanently or I could get this body to myself. Even if you escaped, I could always kill you in our fight later. Oh, what the hell. You have yourself a deal. I will even throw in not mentioning this little pact to Michael."

"I am glad we can finally see eyes to eyes," Ryona says as she reaches out a hand which glowed with blue flames from her Cursed Energy.

"For the first and last time," Michael agrees as he shakes her hand while his own is covered in red demonic flames.

As soon as the Binding Vow settled over them, Michael's vision turned black. When he opened his eyes again, he was sitting on his throne in Malevolent Shrine again. Heh, the kid's Innate Domain must have been looking out for him. It wanted to prevent a war between him and Ryona in Faust's soul, so it facilitated a meeting between the two. As he drifted off to sleep again, he wondered one last thing.

"What the hell is this kid going to do next?"

--

(??? POV)

"S-sir, we have some b-bad news," an underling says with a slight stutter from fear. "I-it is about O-owen, sir. We s-sent him to get Lieutenant Gordon's daughter l-like you instructed. H-however, there w-was a c-complication."

"What is it?" the boss asks calmly. "Just know before you answer, I better not hear another stutter. I don't hire men without a spine. If you don't learn to speak correctly, then I will rip out your spine because you are clearly not using it."

"Lieutenant Gordon was craftier than we thought," the man replies slowly since he was trying to avoid stuttering again. "He arranged for an officer to be watching his daughter tonight."

"Owen should have been strong enough for any beat cop Gordon could scrounge up," the leader says. "He is easily as strong as ten standard men."

"Our sources in Task Force X said that someone claimed his bounty," the underling answers. "Apparently, Waller received his body and was happy to no longer have him running around AWOL. We couldn't find any evidence about when or where it happened but it had to be the man watching over the daughter. An detective we have in Gordon's homicide unit overheard that it was a rookie, fresh out of the academy. His name is Felix Benjamin Faust."

"Have bounties posted on Gordon and this Faust," the boss says. "What was Owen's bounty again?"

"Four million when he died, sir," the underling answers.

"Set the rookie to five," the boss orders. "Whoever he was, he is a bigger threat than 'Iron Body' Owen ever managed to be. Gordon is ten. Who knows how many aces he has hidden up his sleeve."

"Yes, sir," the underling says with a bow. "Right away, sir."

"Get out of my sight," the boss says with a dismissive wave of his hand as he contemplated the change. It messed with his current plans to not have the famous Jim Gordon under his thumb, but the introduction of this new player could be useful in the future. He will just have to use a little patience to wait and see."

--

(Global Bounty Office)

"Sir, we got two new bounties!" a worker calls out. "Fresh in from Gotham!"

"Who are the unlucky fellas?" his supervisor asks.

"A couple of cops," the worker replies. "I am already creating the files."

"Good work," the supervisor says. "Get these posted by midnight. It is our job to keep everyone informed. We never know when someone is going to take their shot."

"Got it," the employee confirms.

Lt. James 'Jim' Gordon

Dead or Alive

Bounty: 10,000,000

Felix Benjamin Faust

Dead or Alive

Bounty: 5,000,000

--

Author's Note:

My second biggest chapter to date! I probably could have split this bad boy up, but where is the fun in that?

I tried to pack in a lot of stuff into this chapter, so I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. We had Felix meeting his new nemesis, a twelve year old girl. We showed how Michael is a little more like Sukuna than he might appear at first. We had our boy not only escaping from Gojo, but winning his first fight as a Jujutsu sorcerer. We even had the first appearance of a mysterious villain.

Feel free to write a review to let me know how I did so far. I am always happy to hear feedback and I genuinely take it to heart and try to answer any questions. Additionally, any review boosts my writing speed and helps me pump out chapters faster than ever.

If you enjoyed the story and want to keep up to date, favorite and follow to get updates when I drop a new chapter.

If anyone is interested in my other stories, including others that involve the Consortium, you can find them through my profile.

A pleasure as always,

Titan900

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