Chapter 92: Plus two
After a quick check, it turned out that the superhero had just collapsed from exhaustion, and at first glance his health (except for a couple of non-fatal wounds) was not threatened. He'll sleep, eat and be as good as a cucumber, especially if I give him a little help, which I did, starting to create a water ball using several diamonds at once.
Strangely enough, the sphere of materialized liquid, soaked in my mana, was very reluctant to clean Bats from dirt and blood, constantly trying to splash and turn into harmless water on contact with his body. Though I don't recall such problems when using the spell on girls. Fortunately, my will and imagination were strong enough to not be too distracted by the spell's support, allowing me to calmly analyze the fight that had happened and what happened afterwards.
When I first came into this world, I felt a certain unreality to what was happening. Superheroes and supervillains, at times incredibly cliched; metal people with supernatural powers; technology beyond the realm of fantasy and common sense; the perfect girl at my side, ready to literally die for me, or with me, if I remembered the bomb disposal lesson: it all seemed too unbelievable. Hmm, especially the last one.
In addition, I had the System, but its use had to be seriously limited, so as not to lose my head and not to perceive the surrounding world as scenery for a play. I had the System, but its use had to be severely limited in order not to lose my head and not to perceive the world around me as a set for a play. Magic was a plus, but it was at least logical, no matter how strange it sounded, and for its full use one had to know a lot, to be able to do a lot, to understand the principles of spell formation, and also just to let the body get used to the flow of mana, constantly passing it through the body.
Honestly, I'd almost accepted the fact that this universe, jokingly numbered sixty-nine, was fucked up and, at some points, contrary to common sense... But today's incident just threw me off, contrasting too much with my already constructed perception of the world and its laws. And no, the visit to the Eternal and her strange advice about pies more or less fit into the general picture, even the concept of masks, though with a squeak, somehow fit in my head, but the Bats demonstrating strange abilities and the fact that he killed a man were beyond my understanding.
Batman doesn't kill - everyone knows that. But he just finished off his opponent, and now I feel resentment. The usual resentment of injustice. I'd promised that big-eared asshole I wouldn't kill anyone, and I'd really tried to follow that rule, though with the occasional reflexes from the body's past owner, it wasn't easy.
The only time I'd had a breakdown had been with Zsasz, but then the serial killer had simply crossed the line into threatening my family. I'm afraid if it hadn't been for his speech at the end of our acquaintance, I might well have changed my mind and not activated the spell I'd prepared, allowing the SWAT team to apprehend the freak and transport him to Arkham.
I just don't understand how various trapped people, who didn't even turn a chicken's head for soup, can kill a person without much moral turmoil. Psychos, real psychos. If it weren't for the smoothing of the emotional peak and the support of my loved ones, I would have been shaking for at least twenty-four hours! What can you do, I spent most of my conscious life in a civilized society where killing people is not accepted. All the more so, as one wise old man who likes to wear large mesh stockings and address male members of the male sex as "my boy" used to say: "Murder breaks the soul"...
And now bam, it turns out that owl assassins can have their heads chopped off without question!!!
Hmm, straining my memory, I remembered something. I'd recently seen one of the dead anthropomorphic owls by the collapsed fountain, its chest broken by someone. It certainly wasn't Grundy who did it: a Revenant would have simply torn the enemy apart or trampled it. There aren't many options as to who it could have been, and I highly doubt it was Claw, who went head-on at the reanimated five-meter dead man a few minutes ago, following orders from a shabby mutant.
My thoughts didn't stop me from washing the unconscious superhero from dirt and blood, spending almost four diamonds because of the strange resistance, and after a couple minutes of concentration, casting a regeneration spell on him. Although his body was exhausted, the spell wouldn't make it worse, taking only the bare minimum.
"I'm done," I rise from the floor, shouldering Gloomy Mouse's carcass. - Did you find anything interesting?
"Yeah, take a look at this.
While I was administering first aid, my faithful assistant was scrutinizing the corpse of the main Claw, which was in no hurry to melt, and she was now holding a small timer with a countdown. 23:43; 23:42...
"Yeah, I should have known there was an extermination system in place. All according to a secret mystical organization. Okay, well, then the sightseeing is canceled. Let's run for the exit.
We had enough time to walk instead of running, but there would be people outside who might be hurt by the explosion. We could have called Mouse or Oracle, but unfortunately there was no communication here, and we couldn't warn anyone.
Our awesome couple had reached the corpse-strewn amphitheater without any problems and were about to escape from this hospitable place through a hole in the ceiling when one of the large debris near the wall moved a bit.
"Come on, my dear!" A shout of encouragement came from behind the obstacle, and the rubble moved again.
Hmm, I recognize that voice, don't I?
"Leroy?" I clarified, stepping closer.
The sounds behind the piece of marble were silent for a second.
"Yeah. Who's that?
"Uh, uh, never mind. Here, let me help you.
"Well, help me if you're serious.
Without letting go of Gloomy Mouse's hands, I put my foot on a piece of marble and, with Harley's help, moved the obstacle aside centimeter by centimeter.
It turned out that a passage had been made in the wall, and when the cobblestones were out of the way, the heavy wooden door swung open, revealing a smiling twenty-five-year-old Leroy in tattered trousers, with a naked teenager with dark hair hanging from his shoulder. The man had changed a lot since the last time I'd seen him: his right hand was missing a fingernail, his left eye had a black eye, his lip was smashed, and his entire body bore the marks of multiple injections, but he still smiled infectiously and looked as monumental as an obsidian cliff.
"Oh, hi, Jay, I didn't expect to see you here!" He greeted me cheerfully, waving his free hand at me. - I didn't know your friend was so pretty.
Yeah, magical disguise using immaterial illusions was useless against a blind wing chun master. It's not a big deal, though: I highly doubt he'll be talking about it.
As I pondered the dangers of knowing my new identity, an old acquaintance suddenly appeared and smoothed his blood-stained dreadlocks.
"Allow me to introduce myself, dear lady, Leroy Smith," the elderly man bowed gallantly.
"I have a boyfriend, so take a walk, Uncle," Harley knew how to calm me down, nuzzling into my free hand.
"Hey, you can't be so rude to blind invalids! Jay, tell her!
"Call me Joker now," I decided to ignore the little pique. - What happened to you?
"Ha-ha, even with a jack of diamonds!" Leroy laughed, and then his voice turned serious. - They caught me right in the shelter, poisoned me with some shit, and then tried to grab me, but I wouldn't let them take me. I killed one bastard for sure, but there were more of them. Sons of bitches! Ugh," he spat on one of the corpses.
"Mr. J, it's time," Harley intervened.
"Oh, shit, that's right. All right, we gotta get outta here first, talk later.
There was no objection, and our small group started climbing to the top of the collapsed ceiling, where we took turns climbing out to the abandoned subway station with the help of a cat-hook and my cane. We did it just in time, for the flashlights of the SWAT team were shining in the tunnel Grundy had made, which meant it was time to scramble.
We were already running into the subway tunnel when I noticed a few locals peering warily out from behind the remnants of the wooden shield that had miraculously survived Solomon Grundy's rampage and the explosion of several sticks of dynamite.
"I'll catch up with you," I tossed to my companions, running over to the nearest barrel of burning garbage so I could be seen.
"Hey," I shouted to the homeless, waving the countdown timer I'd thoughtfully brought with me, and grabbed Bats's slumping carcass from my shoulder. - It's about to get very hot in here! I suggest you get the hell out of here!
Under my surprised gaze, a lot of people in rags came out of every crevice, and they all rushed in the opposite direction of me. It seems that I have a "heroic aura" that makes civilians obey me without question, and it's incredibly cool and convenient.
"And warn SWAT about the explosion. You have exactly five minutes!
One of them turned around to get a better look at his savior (that's me), but he couldn't keep his balance and rolled amusingly, losing one rubber slipper in the process.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Don't be in too much of a hurry, there's still time.
The crowd sped up a little more, pulling into the tunnels. It was a good thing they were leaving so fast: the explosion wouldn't hit them.
I left the timer next to the hole in the floor just in case, as a warning to the SWAT team in case they didn't want to believe the flavorful dungeon dwellers, and hurried after my comrades who had gone ahead.
***
The Alpha Two Squad, under the command of Mark Miller, was on the trail of yet another Joker and his hand monster, which the doctor's patient was about to unleash in downtown Gotham. According to eyewitnesses, the monster somehow managed to break free of the psycho's control and, after turning the transport van around, escaped the pale bastard in the sewers. The crazed maniac was clearly not happy about this, and together with his assistant, who looked incredibly similar to Harley Quinn, ran after the fleeing creature.
The group's tasks were simple: disarm the criminal and try to help the unfortunate creature, for which they were provided with powerful tranquilizers and experimental shock cartridges recently created by scientists from WayneTech.
They moved at a leisurely pace, knowing the clown's love of various traps. So it was only after twenty minutes, plus the same amount of time to get there, that the squad, after passing through several walls broken by the monster, came to one of the old abandoned subway tunnels. Mark felt that they had almost reached their goal, but suddenly the stomping of many feet came to his ears.
"Spread out! Fire only on my command!" he moved to the wall, throwing a flare gun far ahead.
The stomping was getting closer. The man stared into the darkness, mentally cursing the officials who had cut funding, leaving his group without proper spotting scopes. Three meters, two meters, one meter. An ordinary homeless man crossed the illuminated spot, a look of sheer terror in his eyes.
"There's the Joker!" He shouted as he spotted the armed men in SWAT uniforms.
Immediately, the panicked cries of the approaching crowd began to echo.
"He booby-trapped the subway!
"This place is going to blow up!
"Save yourselves!
"The Joker has kidnapped Batman!
"Holy shit..." the commander muttered quietly and ordered his subordinates to leave, covering the civilians.
***
Naturally, I didn't dare to rely on the frightened homeless. The network was good, so I managed to contact Alfred, warning him of the imminent explosion, and at the same time to tell him that Gloomy Mouse had been rescued and his health was in no danger. After listening to the words of sincere gratitude, I asked to send an inconspicuous transportation and to recommend a place where we could stay for a couple of hours, preferably without the bat-mouse entourage, and which would not be a pity to dump afterwards, because we would bring outsiders there, and quite possibly they would stay there for a couple of days.
The butler quickly oriented himself on the beacon I'd activated and gave me the coordinates of the nearest shelter, advising me not to hurry back too much: the Joker's appearance in the center of Gotham in the company of a five-meter-tall monster had put the city on its ear, so the number of police and emergency services was overwhelming.
Then I contacted Mouse, also warning her of the imminent explosion and promising to meet her on duty in the evening. I had a suspicion that even the five of us wouldn't be able to fit in the small apartment offered by the elderly Briton in the east end of the East End.
After the call, I still managed to catch up with Harley and Leroy, who had gotten ahead of me, and even jogged a little with them, when there was the distant roar of multiple underground explosions. The floor beneath his feet shuddered slightly, and a couple seconds later warm air hit him in the back. Fortunately, that was all the effects of the Owl Court's self-destruct system kicking in. Now I could take my time and finally find out from my battle grandfather what had happened to him.
The dark, gloomy tunnels were depressing, so Leroy was happy to share his frustrations, saying that they'd tried to make him a trainer for the Claws by brainwashing him. But he was incredibly strong-willed and resistant to the mind-control drug they used, so they used torture to break him. No wonder that after such a warm welcome he was very angry with the members of the secret mystical organization and with all his heart he wanted to repay them for all their good deeds.
The dark-skinned man was just undergoing another procedure, including electroshock therapy, when a distant rumbling sound was heard and an alarm was activated in the room. Most of the guards immediately fled, leaving only one guard and the "egghead" in charge of the equipment. The prisoner didn't want to miss such a gift of fate, so he broke the restraining bindings and quickly killed the two bastards and ran to the exit, making a small detour and grabbing another unfortunate who was in the cell next to him.
"By the way, who is this kid anyway?
"Oh, fuck knows, I think he escaped from some orphanage. He only spoke on his first day and introduced himself as Hui, even though he doesn't look Chinese. Ha-ha-ha. I think those bastards kidnapped him too to make him one of them. I'll tell you, that shit's incredibly potent, even got me high. I'm afraid a couple more weeks and I'd be dancing to the tune of those fuckers like a circus dog," he sighed heavily as he continued down the tunnel. - The kid's obviously a weakened version, at least I didn't find any signs of torture, but he's still a lot tougher than I am. He could use a checkup with a shrink later.
"Look, are you sure that's how he introduced himself?" I asked after a pause.
"Leroy scratched the back of his head. - I guess so, but you know I wasn't quite in the right frame of mind at the time, coming off the "procedures," so I might have gotten something wrong. Oh," he slapped me on the forehead, "he's got a weird last name, too: Gayson!
"Hmmm... Let me see his face.
Leroy stopped, taking the drooling boy off his shoulder.
Hmm, he reminded me a lot of someone. That dark hair, the high cheekbones, the almost square chin, the thin lips. He's the missing Richard that Bruce wanted to adopt. Only he looks a little older, like fifteen or sixteen... Wait...
"Dick Grayson...," I muttered aloud.
That's one of Bats' sidekicks who's gonna grow up to be called Nightwing.
"Hmm," Leroy turned the teen in his outstretched arms, examining him thoughtfully. - It could well be. I don't think normal parents would call a kid a dick, and they don't do that kind of thing at the orphanage.
"That little guy from the circus?" Harley wondered. - But why did he get so big?
"Probably because of some kind of medication. The Claws need fighters, not children," I suggested.
"Speaking of drugs," the man returned the future storm of crime to his shoulder and began to rummage through his pants. - Here," he pulled out two vials filled with scarlet liquid and handed them to me. - I've been injected with this stuff. Maybe we can help the guy by synthesizing some kind of antidote.
"Let's see," I put both items in my pocket and checked the map of underground communications Alfred had sent me. - It's not much farther. We'll be there soon.
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