Actually, I was a little surprised at Mr. Paranoiac's confidence, but after some thought and a quick review of the information sent, I came to the conclusion that I was really the only one capable of dealing with such a delicate matter.
For one thing, Cat was too windy. Even all so independent Zee was faithful and did not look towards other men, and was not against the rest of the harem, while Harley and I diligently learn the art of magic and do not forget to spend free time together with the sorceress. That's why neither I nor the blonde have any desire to start a relationship with the thief, and it's not right to take the girl away from her battle mate. Secondly, and it is possible to tell the main reason of transfer of business on outsourcing was that Selina a few days ago has left in Spain where some meeting of criminal authorities is planned according to rumours, and Bats now has a lot of his affairs in Gotham. In the most criminal city in America, about three hundred crimes are committed every day (and this figure is still relatively low due to the attack of Apokolips), and the police are more or less coping with a maximum of seventy per cent, while the rest falls on superheroes. And that's not to mention that really high-profile cases don't do without our help. Eh... If this world were normal, the government would have created special teams of supers to solve problems that regular people can't handle.
***
At that moment, three hundred metres beneath New York City in a super-secret headquarters, an obese black woman sneezed heartily, accidentally hitting the touch button on her tablet with her hand.
~Bang!
The explosion that followed blew the head off one of the criminals, nicknamed the KGBist.
"Ugh, brains. I hate brains, they're terrible for laundering," said a blonde woman standing nearby, who had been hit by several pieces of flesh.
Her mates remained silent, looking at the dead supervillain with interest. It was hard to surprise them with someone else's death, but the exact location and power of the explosives was important information. The big anthropomorphic crocodile didn't even care about that, though. He happily licked up the tasty morsel, making the nearby Latino with facial tattoos turn grey. Still, it's one thing when your life depends on a man who has managed to show himself extremely rational, and quite another when there is an animal with questionable gastronomic preferences.
"That's what will happen to you if someone decides to disobey an order or leave the mission area," Amanda Waller said nonchalantly, as if it wasn't because of her mistake that a valuable asset had just died. Though maybe it was for the best, because the minds standing before her understood only power. "I hope you realise your position now?"
"Yes, ma'am. We understand," the dark-skinned man answered for everyone, his eye covered by a high-tech monocle with a red eyepiece.
***
And finally, thirdly: Bats had no other candidates. Well really, Dick was not ready for independent work and now he was actively learning the science of being a superhero to move to Jump City with the rest of Young Titans, and Alfred could not be sent, otherwise there would be no one to feed the bats in the Batcave, wipe the dust in the mansion and remind about timely meals and sleep, or the Greatest Detective would die of exhaustion.
I wasn't going to go to Spain right away, though. At the very least, I should have taken Ivy to the game studio. The dryad wasn't going back to Africa anytime soon, and I had to make arrangements with Abby to keep an eye on her apprentice when she went back to Poison Acres. I didn't want to leave Pamela unattended, especially where her powers were limited by the chemical waste soaking the soil. The Guardian of the Forest in her combat uniform is a tree golem, so no one will have any questions about how Swamp Girl and Poison Ivy are connected, since one of them is Jay Arkham's girlfriend and the other is in close contact with the Joker, who are different personalities in the eyes of the public. And help in cleaning up the area will not be superfluous, because for three hours of the date we have cleaned up only one hectare: too much pollution was too strong.
When I got into the flat and kissed the green-skinned beauty once more, I stopped in indecision, not knowing whether to finish the beautiful evening with intimacy. Still, a girl, usually, very rarely takes the initiative, if there is not one charming blonde nearby. What am I worrying about, though?
"What do you think about continuing?" The palm of my hand with an obvious hint lay on the Dryad's taut arse.
Ivy looked at me strangely. Her first reaction was clearly refusal, but afterwards she shook her scarlet hair and looked into my eyes with determination.
"Let's do it. But not for long, I wanted to meditate some more to tune into the Web of Life."
"Oh, you won't regret it!"
***Starting 18+***
I pounced on her with kisses and while I carried her to the bedroom I helped her get rid of her clothes. The green breeches, dark windbreaker and a lettuce t-shirt were on the floor very quickly, but there was a slight hitch. Ivy didn't wear underwear, preferring to replace it with plants. Fortunately, the problem was quickly solved when the leaves parted, giving access to her breasts with their nipples sticking out invitingly. One of them was immediately occupied by my mouth, eliciting a satisfied moan from the girl and hinting that I was on the right track. Placing the pleasant burden on the huge bed, I continued to amuse myself with the beauty, drawing a path of kisses right up to her intimate places.
"You're such a pervert," the next leaves spread apart, giving access to the girl's ass, while her pussy remained chastely covered.
"You say that like you're not constantly trying to fuck me in the arse yourself."
"Ye, I vill," my tongue had already penetrated, making my lover sigh erotically.
Although metamorphism was still difficult, I was able to slightly increase the size of my tongue, so the green-skinned cutie was quickly brought to her first orgasm. And then another one, when I penetrated her ass with my cock, biting her sweet ear. We only had an hour of fun, but with all the attention on Ivy, it was even a little tiring for her. She came round pretty quickly, though.
"Harley, come here, I have a surprise for you," called my anxious companion dryad, as soon as I left the cosy hole filled with hot thick cream. It was still far from hentai litres, but thanks to the developed First Element, the volumes still seemed tangible.
"Ha ha ha ha, sorry to disappoint you, but Harley is currently in Shadow Peak."
"Eh... Am I supposed to walk around with your sperm up my arse for the rest of the night?"
"Why not? You could just wash it out or… Ask Abby to help you. I don't suppose she'd mind? Abby, you wouldn't mind, would you?" I shouted into the corridor, where the avatar of Green, whose arrival in the house I'd sensed thanks to the signalling spell, soon appeared.
"Mind what?" The girl asked me a question.
"Ivy needs a little help cleaning up the Toxic Acres. And her arse needs cleaning, too."
"I don't mind," Abby shrugged. "I'm not getting any energy this way, though, so I'm hoping for your help."
She climbed up on the bed, bulging her lower nineties, though in her case it was no less than a hundred and fifty due to her large size.
"Doesn't anyone want my opinion? Oh, shit..."
While Pamela was talking, Green's avatar had managed to bury her face in her eroticised ass, so the words of indignation just stuck in her throat. The resonance of auras and pleasant sensations did the trick. Ivy even admitted that it wasn't so bad. But Harley was still better, though who would doubt it.
Yep... Positive reinforcement does work, and the one who used to fight off the other girls with all her limbs, and me too, who wasn't too keen on it, let alone doing it up the arse, is now the first to take the initiative.
***End of 18+***
Leaving the green-skinned beauties to rest, I headed for Shadow Peak. I needed to get Harley, find some speed charms, and something to bind her. The sorcerer's ribbons were versatile enough to block both material and energy, but they were difficult to cast and required a lot of mana, and I'd have to convert them into rune form and recalculate them with the neutral barriers, so I'd have to find something simpler for the time being. It was also worth checking about the portal to Spain. The sorceress travelled not only in America, but also in Europe, where she had arranged more than a dozen performances. Still, I didn't really want to lend the Batplane again, as well as to spend several hours on the flight instead of training, Harley or recalculating the next spell.
By the way, it's rather curious that I'm partly going the way of the Sumerian mages. If the legends are to be believed, they could cast powerful spells incredibly quickly, literally with a single activation word or special gesture. Given the manuscript on life energy management, where the author constantly referred to the Sumerian school and described in detail the creation of special structures inside the body, it is very likely that ancient mages made themselves a kind of biological artefact. Maybe they even used the same tattoos. Well then the reason for the long training becomes clear. To create artefacts you need to know a lot of things and if you activate a crooked spell by some miracle, the losses will be cosmic, because every symbol, every line carries a certain meaning and makes mana flow along a certain route.
Arriving at the place, I found the girls drinking tea in the living room of the mystical mansion. Alchemy books and modern chemistry textbooks were lying around them in disarray, along with formula-written sheets in which mysterious signs and elements of the periodic table were strangely intertwined. The tea party was also enhanced by a battery of vials with murky, multicoloured contents that looked like my first failed attempts to use demon blood anywhere.
"Mr. J., come join us, we're just finishing up," she patted the couch beside me, holding out another cup of tea that had a hint of peach in it.
"Did you manage to create anything interesting?" I asked, gratefully accepting the drink.
"Well, how can I put it. Potions really lacks a modern approach, but in alchemy, distillation only hurts. And anyway," Delirum's avatar glanced at the scribbled sheets of formulae, "none of my ideas have worked with it. It's bullshit."
"You're wrong, you have great ideas. It's just that alchemy is closer to ritualism, and you just have to make the calculations to fit the new conditions. Still, ancient wizards rarely thought about normal purification of substances and were not aware of the existence of most elements of the periodic table, not to mention their magically saturated versions."
"Eh... I guess."
My favourite cutie was clearly dissatisfied that this time her help was not as significant as in the case of the potion of communication with spirits.
"Don't worry, we'll meet in three days and try again."
The sorceress thought that this phrase would encourage the blonde, but instead it reminded her of a problem: educating the beautiful warriors about the male sex would be postponed indefinitely again. Harley stopped worrying about alchemy and looked at Zatanna suspiciously.
"By the way, how is your communication with your father?"
"Oh, yeah. Shouldn't you get back in touch after such a long break?" I supported Harley.
"What? I haven't spoken to him for years because of Allura's curse," the sexy illusionist replied sadly. "I understand that you want to help me, but by doing so you can only make things worse."
Oh, that's progress, because the last time we talked about Giovanni Zatara, she sounded aggressive and clearly told me to mind my own business.
"Didn't he try to text you on Weinstagram?" I asked.
I can't believe a curse could be that conceptual. And it would have been done in a proper ritual or the witch would have sacrificed her life in the process, but no. Allura is still alive, and she cursed Zee's father right at the end of the battle when he started sealing her in Paracelsus' sword.
"Um... No..." Zee glanced disbelievingly at her smartphone lying peacefully on the table. "Though... No, it can't be..." she sounded doubtful.
"What can't be?" asked Harley with interest.
"About a month ago, a weirdo called Dr. Fate wrote to me. He even put an avatar with this stupid gold bucket on it. He started off by insisting that my stage costume was too vulgar. Naturally, I blocked him."
"There was some truth to what he said," the harlequin said thoughtfully, surprising me a little. She really likes the way Zee looks in her sexy illusionist outfit. What can I say if even during sex she doesn't take it off completely, making sure to leave a few elements, like the net stockings, the cylinder and the dark jacket.
"We've been over this. My great outfit is an elaborate stage look."
"I think you just have a fetish for exhibitionism. And yes, in that case, you're still wearing a lot of clothes."
"Firstly, I don't feel the urge to undress in front of left-handed men, especially as they are always coming at me with ambiguous hints, and some of them have to explain to me clearly that it's not worth it. Secondly, my performances are already on the edge of decency. It's gonna be 16+ for a while."
"Aha, so you have this fetish!" the blonde girl exclaimed.
"Well, I do, so what?" the sorceress didn't even bother to deny it. However, for the past time we really became very close and did not do anything in bed, so such a thing she was no longer embarrassed.
"What?! You could go naked, or in see-through lingerie in front of us. Call Ivy, Babs, Abby," the blonde's eyes sparkled with pink sparks of anticipation.
"Pfft, the idea may look tempting, but you're going to get me into an orgy afterwards. And I don't want that."
"Hmm... What about performing naked in front of the Amazons? I think Ismem and her friends would appreciate it. And you could ask Mr. J. and I to be your assistants for some disappearing tricks,' she wiggled her eyebrows playfully."
"Ahem," Zee sipped her tea, trying to hide the blush on her face. "I thought you were talking about my father," she said, trying to change the subject.
Harley and I winked at each other, appreciating the illusionist's cute reaction. It was bold, very bold, but it could really work, especially if we really only call Ismem and her friends. The island is relatively big, so there are plenty of secluded places, and it wouldn't be difficult for three magicians to build a stage, as well as to create privacy charms around it.
"Yeah, Harley told him to text you on Wyanestagram. Aura is definitely not transmitted that way, the signal goes through a bunch of repeaters, and it can't be called direct communication."
"But why would he set up a page under Dr. Fate's name? He wouldn't even mention his own name."
"I think it's another line of defence to prevent direct communication with Zatara from triggering the curse. You should know that," I said, moving closer to the girl and hugging her gently, giving her love and support."
"Damn, if it's true..." with shaking hands the sorceress grabbed her smartphone and quickly entered the application. "Blacklist, contacts, remove..." said she, as if still not believing it could work.
My beloved and I were also tense, worrying about the sorceress, who was staring at the screen with hope. It was as if time had slowed down, helped by the pressure of the surrounding aura. The house itself felt the worries of its mistress. With each passing moment, the tension grew as suddenly a smile blossomed on the dark-haired beauty's face.
"Answered... ~sob~ He really did answer. The curse doesn't work."
After calming the happy sobbing sorceress, we left her "alone" with her father. More precisely, we went to the library, not forgetting to please Mousey with a new interesting adventure and asking her to come to Shadow Peak.