Chương 93: A little unpleasantness
After wandering through the dark dungeons of Gotham, we made it to the surface in the eastern part of Robinson Park, passing through another technical tunnel and a flimsy steel grate with a padlock, which Harley broke in ten seconds with a hairpin and a batarang to replace the flathead screwdriver.
It was a short walk from here to the Oracle's shelter, but our appearance wasn't really suited to traveling stealthily through the city. The big man in torn pants and torture marks, carrying a naked teenager on his shoulder, was bound to attract a lot of attention. Though... I looked at the cute assistant in the recognizable red-and-black harlequin outfit, and then at my stylish purple outfit and the beaten Bats hanging from my shoulder, beginning to guess why the homeless people were so hastily fleeing after my words about the imminent explosion. Hmm, it was a little awkward, but I couldn't help but recognize the effectiveness and effectiveness of my awesome look.
Eh, too bad all this beauty needs to be hidden now to avoid problems.
After a short thought, I decided to disguise our group as the most inconspicuous people in the world: ordinary laborers carrying bulky bags of construction waste. To do this, I had to seriously strain my brain, deducing a voluminous complex of illusions, and let a lot of mana flow through me, discharging almost a dozen diamonds in the process. It was a good thing I was taking turns, because my maximum was now only eight and a half stones. Wasting magical energy wasn't much of a waste now. Abby had become good friends with us over the past few days, agreeing to recharge the gems with natural mana, and she clearly didn't plan to stop watching movies together even after she defeated Grundy. So I was absolutely calm for the timely replenishment of energy, but not for the dryad's innocence. Harley was very persistent in her solicitations when the lights went out in the theater room.
The illusion complex was ready and easy to put on each member of the group, and then we could easily reach the usual five-story building, where there was another safe house, hidden behind a shabby door on the top floor. There was really very little room inside, so I was glad I hadn't called Babs here.
Just one twelve-square-meter living room with the bare minimum of furniture: a closet with a couple of loose XXL tracksuits, a worn-out fold-out couch, and a small table with an electric stove and a battery of canned goods underneath. It was good that there was a separate bathroom, otherwise it would have sucked. I was used to large spaces, though in my previous life I had lived in a similar apartment.
"Oh, Normas!" Leroy, unlike me, was completely satisfied with the apartment, and was the first to shower to wash off the sweat, blood, and dirt, dropping his burden on the couch.
I didn't plan to stay here long, so, having placed Bats next to the little one, I immediately contacted Alfred to find out about transportation, and also what to do with Grayson. He couldn't go to the orphanage now because of his sharply increased size, and he couldn't go to the police either: there was no telling what kind of attitudes the Court of Owls had managed to implant in his young, immature brain. Maybe the kid's already become a perfect murderer. It wouldn't be very good if he killed someone and Bats put him in Arkham afterward. Or kill him like an owl zombie.
The butler, after brief deliberation, asked me to just bring the boy to the manor. Bruce was planning on adopting him, and he'd even filed the paperwork. All that's left is to forge a couple of papers, hack the city server, enter new data, and lie that Richard was at his guardian's house all this time, and write off the growth problem as a hormonal explosion. Hell, the guy had grown taller than Harley, but he hadn't grown much in the shoulders, resembling the same Harley without the boobs.
Toward the end of the discussion of the orphan's fate, a somewhat distraught elderly man crawled out of the bathroom and plopped down on the edge of the long-suffering sofa, which creaked protestingly under the strain.
A heavily sighing big pumped up Leroy who has bothered to wear only one blood-stained torn pants is a bit of a tense sight.
"Why are you so gloomy?" I asked, unable to bear the sad look of my usually cheerful acquaintance.
I tried not to squint too hard at the silly, giggling blond cutie who had managed to get a jar of goutaline in one of the drawers of the closet and was now painstakingly painting a "mask" on Bats's face with it. The superhero had lost his high-tech helmet during the fight against the Claws, and I hadn't thought to put an illusion on it. Leroy doesn't give a shit about it, and the kid still continues to lie there in a slump, looking like a piece of furniture.
"Eh," the elderly fighter sighed heavily again. - I remembered Sakharka. We've been through so much together. I remember he once snacked on the eggs of the head of the Western Yakuza. I mean, Jay, what other dog can boast of a feat like that? He'd still be alive if it weren't for those bastards, ~fry~," he blew his nose at the remains of Gloomy Mouse's cloak.
"Ha-ha, I have wonderful news for you. Your dog is alive, he just hurt his paw a little. The vet said it's nothing dangerous and the cast can be removed in a month and a half.
"Really?!" The man jumped up, looking at me as if I were the messiah.
"Or else.
"Jay!
Oh, boy. My ribs cracked protestingly, as if I'd been hit by a multi-ton press.
"You'll choke me," I hissed, trying to inhale.
"Oh, shit, I'm sorry!" Smith's face once again flashed an infectious twenty-five smile. - When can I see him?
"Uh..." I thought about it, remembering one minor detail. - You know, I had to leave him at a friend's house, and we, like... We had a little fight.
Leroy continued to stare at me perplexed.
"Anyway, she very emphatically asked us to stay away from her and her house if we didn't want to get reactive diarrhea along with the vomit. Believe me, she could actually carry out that threat.
"But that's my dog... - the elderly man said confusedly, looking at me with whitish eyes full of hope.
"It's very difficult to get to unless you have certain skills...
Wait, he's blind! He doesn't care about illusions, which means he can find the sorceress's mansion without a problem! That thought gave me confidence.
"So, I'll tell you the address, but you'll have to give me a letter and a gift from us," I thought. - Only give it to me after I get Sugar," I turned my gaze to the satisfied blonde. - Sun, finish turning Bats into a raccoon. We need to come up with an awesome gift for Zee as soon as possible. I hope you can hold out till tomorrow. - The last question was addressed to Smith, who nodded happily in response.
My brainstorming was interrupted by a call from Alfred, informing me that a van had pulled up in front of the house. Leaving a happy Leroy to settle into the apartment, Harley and I drove to Wayne Manor with our illusions and two sleeping beauties.
Some of the roads were closed after the incident with Grundy and the underground explosion, so we had to sneak through various nooks and crannies, which almost doubled the path, but despite everything, we still managed to get to the mansion, handing over two sleeping sentients into the caring hands of a very surprised butler.
"That's how the owls painted it," I said confidently in answer to the unspoken question.
"Yeah, yeah," Harley nodded affirmatively. - The bastards blew in his coat, too.
Shaking his head disapprovingly, the elderly Brit laid his master down on a special couch with a bunch of medical devices located in the Batcave.
I was a little uneasy about the Gotham defender's continued unconsciousness, but after a cursory examination, Alfred confirmed that Bruce was physically and nervously exhausted, so it wasn't surprising. As for Richard, we placed him in one of the rooms of the mansion, putting an ordinary drip with saline solution. The butler was not afraid to leave the boy alone, because the estate has a lot of monitoring equipment and security systems, so the little guy would not go anywhere, even if he really wanted to.
***
Batman opened his eyes abruptly, staring blankly at the dark vaults of the familiar cave. He had just had a terrible nightmare. Allegedly he was in the clutches of the Court of Owls, and was saved only thanks to the Joker, who carried him in his arms from the secret lair of the mystical organization, like some princess. And all this against the backdrop of an epic explosion, like in some second-rate action movie. This scene looked so wrong that the hero vowed to go on a date with a pretty model in the near future.
Except that, despite the promise, the greatest detective's brain, which was working at full speed, reminded him of the previous events, and the captivity of the Owls, along with the battle, was definitely there, as well as the presence of the Joker and Harley Quinn in their old guises, along with an unrealistically powerful Revenant that killed a lot of people.
Writhing slightly in pain, the man tried to sit up to try and crawl to the supercomputer, but the faithful Alfred was there to stop him from getting up and lay him back on the couch.
"Master Bruce, your body has been subjected to extreme stress, please give it at least a little more time to recover.
"What about the Court?
"Destroyed. After your retreat, there was a series of explosions that buried the maze and the corpses of your enemies under a pile of rubble.
"How did I get out?
"Mr. Arkham rescued you and brought you here.
Bruce flinched at those words.
"Is something wrong?" The butler said, noticing his host's atypical behavior.
"How... How was it..." the superhero asked in a slightly hoarse voice.
"I didn't quite understand your question, but I suspect it wasn't very neat. He blew his nose into your cloak for some reason and made you a mask out of goutaline because yours was in disrepair.
The man exhaled in relief. Jay was still in his repertoire.
"Go around to the rear and activate the ability!
"I can't, Mr. J. It hasn't rolled back yet.
"Then try chopping off his tail, because the circular attack is getting on my nerves.
All too familiar voices came to Batman's ears. But he was now in his secret hideout!
"Alfred, what are Jay and Harley doing here?
"I'm not quite sure, but it looks like they're trying to defeat the mutant centipede from the third or fourth chapter of the video game Monsters vs. Heroes. I'm sorry, Ms. Quinzel was too generous and emotional with the details, so I'm not sure I remembered everything correctly," the older British man replied nonchalantly.
"Correct me... Are they doing it on my batcomputer in my batcave?
"You got that right, sir," the butler sighed heavily. - I'm sorry, but you've been gone too long. The city had begun to descend into chaos, at the hands of Dr. Strange's former patients. I had to ask Mr. Arkham to replace you as Gotham's protector.
"That's wonderful," Batman's voice was faintly sarcastic. - I hope he didn't do anything serious in my image?
"You're finally awake!" The conversation was interrupted by a voice full of joy, which became very serious after a second. - Now, please leave the room, because Bats and I have something to talk about.
***
Waiting until Harley and Alfred left to check on Richard, I dragged a batcress over to the couch with Bruce lying on it and tried to stare sternly at the Grim Raccoon (no one had bothered to wash off the goutaline mask).
One minute... Two... Three... Four... He's just messing with me.
"Why the fuck did you kill a man?!" I couldn't take it anymore.
"It wasn't human.
"You're a-" I gasped with indignation. - You fucking xenophobe!
Bats continued to stare at me in silence, resembling a life-ruined panda.
"So that's it? We don't touch people, but we can kill everyone else? What about Killer Croc? Or do you think that three-meter-tall anthropomorphic crocodile that eats people is still more human than the KillerCroc you killed?!" I was getting more and more agitated, jumping up from my chair and pacing the room. - You think that bastard Zsasz is more human than an owl ninja just following orders? Fucking floating around! He's a natural maniac who doesn't give a damn about human life!
"There was no reason in his eyes. It was instinctual. It's like a mechanism that's designed for one single purpose: to serve the Court," the man said nonchalantly. - Why are you reacting so violently to this? Weren't you the one who wanted me to go off and kill someone?
"Fuck that! You gave me your fucking word I wouldn't go on a vigilante rampage. I would follow the "true hero" path! And yet you spit on your own principles! Huh!" I've calmed down dramatically.
Hell, I'm 100 percent sure some alien invader the Bats will try to kill without remorse. You don't even have to look far for an example. I remember that in some comic book Bats tried to kill Superman, who had killed someone in his entire life only by accident, but at the same time "superhero" was not going to kill Joker or Zsasz, who were killing ordinary people in packs. Is that, like, because they're human and intelligent? That's rotten logic. It's really, really rotten.
"I didn't ask you for any of this.
"I'm sorry?
"I didn't ask you to follow the 'real hero' path," Bruce said, enunciating every word. - We agreed that I'd help Pamela get out of the asylum and keep an eye on Harley, and in return, you'd go to Arkham and not kill anyone there.
"So now I can kill bad guys with a clear conscience?" I looked at Mouse dumbfounded, realizing that our conversation could really be interpreted that way.
"Do you really want to do this, putting yourself against the law again?" he looked me carefully in the eye. - Now that you've started a new life? Now that you have people close to you? When you don't have to hide from anyone like a cornered rat?
Hmm, is that really what I want? I like feeling superior, saving people, having fun with girls, but killing... Despite the fucked-up nature of the local universe, when ordinary citizens can die in packs when attacked by Kryptonians from the phantom zone or from less epic stuff, like a gunfight between two gangs of mafiosi, I don't feel like I'm a doomsayer at all. The same verdict on Zsasz was unrealistically hard for me, and it's a stretch to call it a verdict because of a lot of conventions. What if the spell didn't work right, or the special forces were a little slow? I guess you could say that I just left it up to chance at that point. Hehehehehe, besides, no one canceled the influence of the System, which brings me points for saving people. And what kind of salvation can we talk about if I kill all the supervillains?
"No, I don't. But I still don't understand why you killed that ninja.
Bruce sighed heavily, leaning back on the couch and looking up at the gloomy vaults of the cave.
"Jay, did you ever wonder what I went through before I became Batman?
Silently, I continue to listen to the man, sensing that he just needs to talk.
"I trained with the League of Assassins. I was so good that the head of the League wanted to make me his successor. Hmph," he grinned sadly, "battles against multiple opponents to the point of exhaustion, and the only way to win is to kill them all. I've been wandering the labyrinth for days without sleep or rest, and I've been drugged with some kind of crap.
There was a pause.
"So you're just reminiscing about your youth?
"No," the superhero stood up, looking me firmly in the eye. - I was fully aware of my actions, and I killed him for exactly the reason I told you in the beginning. I know the value of human life, but it wasn't human, or at least intelligent.
"Xenophobe.
"I knew you wouldn't understand," he lay back down.
Eh, it's complicated.
"Okay, let's say I've accepted the fact that you're not only the greatest detective, but also the greatest xenophobe. But how do you explain your powers? Before the attack on Claw, your silhouette seemed to blur in perception," I explained in response to a raised eyebrow.
"I know how to use "inner strength". It allows me not only to disappear on the spot, but also to disable muscle limits, speed up regeneration, and increase reaction speed. It sounds like magic, but in reality, everyone can do it. All it takes is exhausting training, a will of steel, self-discipline, and endless work on yourself," he paused for a moment, as if deciding something. - If you want, I could show you a few moves.
"Uh," I hovered at the revelation. - Of course I do. You can't say no to something like that.
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