Chapitre 62: Collision
"Heh-heh-heh-heh, why do you bother with these Revenants?" The sorceress waved me away, finally collapsing on the couch and pressing herself against me.
So... Eyes shining, cheeks flushed, and a faint odor of alcohol is present.
"Zee, what was that tonic?
"Heh, revitalizing. You're so cool," I was suddenly hugged, rubbing my head.
"I'm glad to have your attention," I replied, digging my fingers into the soft hair, which had returned to its native rich dark color after the prana infusion. - But why don't you stick to me like that when you're recovered, instead of under the influence of the magic tincture?
The brunette didn't react in any way.
"Zee?
"H-r-r," she snorted softly instead of answering.
I gently lift her face and find that someone has fallen asleep.
"Hmm... You don't mind if we use the library, do you? Z--Z--Z--Do you mind?
"Golatak..." the girl mumbled sleepily, finally falling into slumber and no longer reacting to the cautious attempts to wake her up.
"I think that was permission," I said, getting up from the couch and putting the sorceress in her seat. - Sun, let's go deal with the Revenants.
"Eh, Mr. J, this is a chance we're missing," my anxious assistant moved closer and gave the sleeping illusionist's breasts a little squeeze.
"Sleeping's no fun anyway. Come on, come on, time's of the essence. - I slapped Harley's ass, giving her a boost in the right direction.
"One second," the blonde promptly caught the rabbit and placed it next to her mistress, and then we entered the library together.
"GOLATAK," I shouted, as I crossed the threshold and blocked the door again with my cane for fear of it closing.
Suddenly, a silver panel with a palm print woven into the floor right in front of us.
"It was more convenient than going downstairs every time. Revenants, methods of fighting," I asked, putting my hand to the symbol and creating a pulse of magic.
There were about a hundred books, but after weeding out the unfamiliar languages, there were only fifteen left. They were in different parts of the library, so we split up, going in search of them and meeting downstairs by the chairs.
Contrary to horror movie clichés (think about it: a magical library in a gloomy old mansion next to a cemetery), we met quietly, finding everything we needed and more, as my companion brought additional literature she planned to study.
***
With a heavy sigh, I slam the last voluminous volume shut, sinking into reflection.
Four hours flew by as if in an instant, so engrossed was I in reading, and, unfortunately, the outcome of my occupation was not very consoling.
First, Revenants themselves are deeply unhappy creatures who are forced to roam the earth in search of their killer or killers. Secondly, as long as their assailant lives, they are simply unable to escape to the Gray Limits, from where they can go to rebirth after purification, and such an existence is a real torture for an ordinary soul. Thirdly, the material shell to which the spirit is bound, not only becomes incredibly strong and capable of regeneration, but also, in fact, is not very important. In the event of even its complete annihilation, the vengeful spirit will simply create a new body for itself. Of course, this does not happen instantly, and can take tens of years, but in the end, the newly created body will be several times stronger and stronger than the previous one. Somewhat similar to the rebirth of the original Doomsday, which makes me seriously wonder, and it also makes it clear to me why the Grundy from the old world memories looked like a huge monster under five meters, very different from his old orientation and from how he was portrayed by the Claymaker. The reanimated dead guy just got levelup after dying at the hands of the Green Lantern.
Revenant is like a remote-controlled robot: you can destroy it as much as you want, but as long as the operator is alive and the factory is intact, which in this case is the same thing, it's practically useless and even harmful to some extent.
Knowing all this, I can see why Zee doesn't want to remove the energy-soaked old bones from the nearby graveyard. A risen dead man with an upgraded "armor" would be a hundred times more dangerous, and it's not a sure thing that it would be possible to kill him quickly, even with dragon vein.
At the end of the day, I can only see two options. First, I kill everyone involved in Grundy's death, which for obvious reasons will send me back to the supervillain camp. The second, I destroy Grundy's body, but the Swamp Thing won't let me use the land I bought, and maybe even start to harm it, because the deal was clear: to put the immortal to rest. And the third, I don't interfere at all, letting Bats handle everything when the monster comes to the city. The last option is even more preferable, because the monster, like any decent dead man, has normal vulnerability only to consecrated weapons, light magic and strong fire, and from the set of young undead fighter I have only the latter, and besides, I still have to spend time and materials to create a lot of napalm grenades.
"It's marvelous.
"Mr. J?" My lovely assistant said questioningly, taking a break from studying metamorphism, judging by the title on the cover.
"We need to kill the Boltons, the Parish and the Winslows to fulfill the deal. I don't see any other option.
"Great, when do we start? Because there's not much time left before the eclipse, and Parish has yet to be found in another city.
"I've forgotten that Harley was a cute monster. - I don't want Bats chasing me again, and it's not much fun to be in solitary confinement. Ivy's gonna see less of me, and Babs is gonna stop talking to me altogether.
Harley booted up.
"Maybe they should change their last names. - She suggested, after much deliberation and my brief recounting of the contents of the books I had read.
"I doubt it's that simple, but it's worth a try," I mentally ticked the box. - Can you prepare a delayed-action drug that will send a person into a lethargic sleep?
"If you need death, it's no good. Only a deep coma can work here, and this is a slightly different state, and it is almost impossible to get out of it without the help of a competent specialist and special equipment.
We fell into silence again, pondering our options.
"Great, you're here," the silence was broken by the voice of a sorceress coming out of the far branch with my cane in her hands. - Jay, for future reference, when you open the door, just say the floor. The exit will lead to the same place you came from if you don't specify anything when you turn the knob.
"Thank you," I thanked as they returned the gadget to me, immediately tucking it away in my spatial pocket.
"Nonsense," the illusionist blushed a little, sitting down in the empty chair. - I'm sorry, the tonic is pretty hard on the brain.
"Huh, we all understand," I winked. - Zee, you wouldn't happen to know how to put someone in a coma, would you?
"Why do you want to know?
"For the direct descendants of Solomon Grundy's murderers," he nodded toward a stack of ominous waste paper.
The enchantress grimaced as she read the title of the first cover that caught her eye, but then curiosity flashed in her eyes.
"It could work, though. Hmm... If without magic, then who can be provided with a good blow on the head, and if with magic, then with a potion of communication with spirits, - answered the sorceress after a short thought. Is it just me, or does she dislike the founders of the city a bit?
"From this point on, please elaborate - I feel it's exactly what I need.
"A magic potion, five hundred years ago it was used by various shamans to reach the astral plane to communicate with their patrons, but now there are simpler methods. By the way, you'll have to finish Grundy by hand. Since he'll be reborn soon, it means he's already bound to a new body.
"Are you willing to help us?
"I'll just make the potion. Of course, I'd rather make you brew it, but God forbid you mess up the recipe.
"You're so pretty when you're acting haughty!" The blonde almost beamed at the sorceress, hugging her. - Almost like Ivy.
"Enough with the tenderness. I don't like it at all," the sorceress said sternly, making no attempt to break free. - I'm going to have to do the potion, and it's long and painful.
"Ahem-tsundere-ahem," I coughed into my fist as I watched the girls.
"Did you say something?" I was stared at with a suspicious squint.
"It's okay. Thanks for your help, Zee. Sunshine, come on, let's get out of the way," I said, pulling my butt off the very comfortable chair and stretching my legs: four hours of practically one posture, even with a strengthened body, wasn't a bad thing.
"Hey, I'm not kicking you out," the owner of the mansion said, thinking I'd offended her, but my desire to leave had to do with something else entirely.
Today I planned to visit Leroy in the hope of another productive training session, because the old man will soon go to China, and I'll be left alone without an adequate sparring partner, because I should not count on Bats.
"Huh, I'll keep that in mind. But I have to stop by a friend's house anyway. - I hastened to reassure the illusionist.
"Oh, I wanted to see how the magic potion was made," Harley looked at me with sad, sad eyes, as if I were some kind of tyrant and monster.
"Honey, no one is forcing you to follow me around, if you want to stay. It's a good thing, because you're not gonna need that kind of knowledge. Do you want my car keys?
"No need, Mr. J. I'd rather take a cab.
"Oh, that's great.
Having partially solved one of the problems, or rather outlined the ways to solve it, I kissed Harley passionately goodbye, advised Zee not to conduct dangerous magical experiments on herself, at least, without reliable and instructed people around, and then left the territory of Shadow Peak, heading in the direction of the abandoned car.
***
Walking down Jefferson Street, I contacted Leroy and made an appointment. I probably should have done it before I left the mansion, but I would have found something to do anyway, if the elderly man was busy today.
The dry-cleaning had done its job and the Aston was now perfectly clean, as if it had come off the assembly line. I didn't even want to drive towards the docks because of the smell of fish. As usual, I'd leave the car in some closed parking lot a few blocks from my destination, and then I'd walk the rest of the way.
I drove out onto the wide street, merging into the flow of traffic. Driving didn't stop me from continuing to plan the future operation, but no matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't think of an automatic method to deliver the potion, so I'd have to do everything manually and in a certain amount of time, since the magic slurry was only effective for two hours.
At yet another stoplight, a local search engine got a request for the number of targets and where they lived.
Well, at least there's something good here. The Boltons and Winslows have only two family members each, and the Parishis have one, but the latter, or rather the last one, now lives in upstate New York, where they'll have to send Harley or make arrangements with Babs. Hmm, maybe we should hire a super perv. He should have plenty of equipment that would allow him to get there, and then promptly return and help with the destruction of Grundy.
Soon I left the car in the parking lot and headed toward Martha's fortress house, where Leroy was renting a room. The clock had just reached seven p.m., so the neighborhood was tentatively safe, especially if you stayed out of the alleys.
"Fucking navigator. - I struggled to keep from crushing the fragile piece of equipment in my hand.
Due to the presence of only one normal parking lot nearby, the route was very different from my last visit and led through the southern part of the area. Except, looking at the map, it's not at all clear that the wide and convenient roads drawn on the map are a closed area of the docks, where ordinary people can't go. The worst thing is that there is a normal, but slightly longer way, but I followed the navigator's advice and now I have to spend time to get back, or go through the dense urban development surrounding the docks.
"Fuck it. I don't need to be afraid of regular bandits," I pulled my cane out of my pocket so I wouldn't have to waste time retrieving it in case of danger, replaced the bent tip with a round one, and calmly turned down the nearest alley.
It turned out to be the right thing to do. I don't know why I was so worried about the locals, but they turned out to be easy to deal with.
I was on my way out of the alleys to a small street when some scumbag with a knife tried to take me for a ride from behind a garbage can, but a life-giving bream and a couple of broken fingers promptly changed his plans. There was no point in calling the police, so I calmly walked on, hearing the howls of others behind me. Just around the corner I met a couple of men of criminal appearance, but they did not hurry to make any claims, and even a little sidestepped, letting me pass. I was sure I was going to have to fight, but instead they just glared at me, and then disappeared into the alley I'd left behind.
I don't know if it was word of mouth, but no one else tried to obstruct my journey.
"Fuck you!" Leroy's indignant voice came from the alley near Martha's house.
I strained my hearing, picking up the slightly muffled squeaky speech of his interlocutor.
"Our organization will not tolerate rejection.
"I don't give a shit about you and your organization. I'm just fucking passing through, and your shit's beneath my buckle.
"You don't know what you're dealing with.
"Holy shit. Hey, is it your organization's thing to recruit the disabled? You're deaf, your partner, judging by the silence, is mute, and now you need a blind person to complete the package? Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. Go fuck yourself, motherfuckers.
~Wshuh-boom~
Around the corner there was the sound of something metal cutting, followed by the rumble of an object falling to the pavement.
"Your claws are pretty fucking good, but still not convincing.
"If you don't go willingly, we'll have to take you away by force.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, attack, scarecrow!
I peek out from around the corner and see a picture of two men in black tight clothes and with strange steampunk style hood masks attacking an old man.
~Wshuh~
I throw a card at one of my opponents, but he deftly dodges it by swinging his pendulum.
"Take care of the witness," ordered the man who had previously agitated Leroy to join some secret society.
The attacked enemy turned toward me, wielding two strange daggers with unusually wide blades. If you looked closely, you could see that he was covered to the top of his head with cold weapons. There were four katanas with their hilt sticking out from behind his back, the two daggers already mentioned, and bronze-colored bracelets with retractable blades on his wrists. Hmm, his mask appears to be the head of a bird, judging by the beak.
"Uh, uh... Are you with the pigeon protection society?
Nedoninja silently rushed into the attack, spinning a somersault for some reason.
"Heh," I shift to the side and try to counterattack, but the cane collides with the dagger I'm holding, and then the bastard jumps back and starts to circle me in a stalking motion.
Holy shit, fuck knows what his knife was made of, but he managed to leave a small nick in the incredibly strong alloy.
The battle was heating up, but neither of us could gain the upper hand. I was already on the verge of winning, considering that I was already wounded in a tangential way, and my opponent was not. The man was abnormally agile and strong, not far behind me in that respect, but superior in fighting skills. Honestly, I hadn't been knocked out yet thanks only to a miracle and occasional reflexes.
Fortunately, I have a great trump card up my sleeve, the main thing is to implement it correctly.
Faith, will, imagination and a little prana. I select two targets and activate the spell.
The enemy hesitated only for a moment, but it was enough for me to shove the tip of the gadget into him and give the maximum discharge.
"Oooooh!" He howled through clenched teeth, then convulsed to the ground.
Leroy also dispatched his opponent, first toppling him to the ground and then caning him with his shoulder to the pavement like a butterfly.
"Thanks Jay, if it wasn't for your help, those bastards would've killed me for sure. Ugh.
"You're welcome. What have you done to them?" I asked, watching the still shaking assassin. I don't think it's normal.
"I don't think so. Invited to some secret organization, calling it family. What do you want from me, asshole," the old man kicked his opponent in the ribs.
"You won't get away with this. Gotham is waiting to be cleansed," the downed pigeon said hoarsely, then suddenly began to shake as well as his partner.
"Fuck, what a stench!" Leroy jumped aside almost immediately, clutching his nose.
"I, too, hurried away, smelling an ineffable aroma, like the smell of rotten fish that had been in the sun for a couple of days, only ten times worse.
The bodies of the enemies swelled a little, and then a slightly appetizing brown slurry appeared through the fabric, growing larger by the second, and, judging by the quiet hissing, it wasn't worth touching. We silently continued to watch the metamorphosis, moving away to a safe distance.
After a couple minutes, the ninja's place was left with only small puddles of a strange red substance, some melted asphalt, and weapons that were virtually unharmed.
"What the hell just happened?
"Do I fuck? I think we should clean up. Stay here for a few minutes, I'll go get the bags, I don't want to touch that shit.
The dark-skinned man ran toward the house, and I stayed where I was, looking at the dagger lying by the puddle, its hilt engraved with an owl.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone