I never thought becoming a "hero" would involve wading through sewers.
Especially Gotham's sewers.
'I really should've just asked for the address and walked there myself.'
"You volunteered, so quit whining!" Waylon grumbled, jogging ahead of me.
"I'm not whining. I'm expressing surprise." I dodged a puddle of something I refused to identify. "Also surprised it's way cleaner down here than I expected."
"What, you thought there'd be crap at every step?"
"Not that bad, but I figured it'd be dirtier." I glanced around. "Does someone actually live here and clean regularly? Like Mole People?"
Wouldn't surprise me. This is Gotham.
"The mob and smugglers use these tunnels," Croc offered a more logical explanation.
One I definitely shouldn't be surprised by.
"What a hygienic criminal class you have."
"Surprises me too."
Croc took a sharp right at a junction where an underground river and storm drain intersected.
I activated my Talisman power and "slowed down" slightly, following his maneuver in a wide arc. His massive back came into view again on the other side.
Then he vanished into another turn.
Along with two homeless guys who got spooked and jumped into the water.
Ahem.
With ease—a Strength stat of 100 makes itself known—I leaped over the obstacle and closed the distance with the scaly jerk.
"Are we almost there?"
"Still haven't fallen behind, huh..."
'Maybe he should've said that in his head. Or at least whispered it.'
"We're almost there."
Two more sharp turns. A few more jumps over obstacles.
A deflated inflatable boat.
Water pipes.
A bearded man in filthy clothes who looked absolutely stunned as I vaulted over him.
Finally, we arrived at the "meeting point."
A large, spacious collector room. Way too large and spacious for a sewer, honestly. Several corridors branched off in different directions.
And waiting for us?
A tall, bulky man.
Dark gray suit—almost black. Long cape attached to a yellow chest plate with a black bat symbol. And an idiotic-looking mask with ears and an open chin.
Only... he didn't look funny.
He looked eerie.
"So this is what you look like. The 'Avatar of Coronavirus' and terror of Gotham's criminals."
...
Why are you guys looking at me like that?
Did I say that out loud?
Awkward. Whatever.
I cast [Analysis] on the most famous "Mouse" since Darth Mouse himself.
[Analysis Complete]
Name: ??? (Bruce Thomas Wayne?)*
Aliases & Titles: Batman, Vigilante, Psychopath in a Cape and Stupid Mask, ??? (The Dark Knight, Son of the Night, Son of Gotham, The Caped Crusader, World's Greatest Detective, The Most Dangerous Man in the World)
Profession: Vigilante/Superhero, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist, ???
Organizations: Wayne Corporation, The Wayne Family, ???
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Height/Weight: 188 cm / 95 kg
Proportions: 119-88-96 (L)
Blood Type: B
Birthday: February 19, 1995
Age: 25 years
Alignment: Lawful Good
Level: 44
Danger Level: 17**
Health: 1650
Mana: 1230
Whoa.
Bats has a lot of titles. High level too. And a danger rating on par with Croc—for a "regular human."
Yeah, it's lower than mine.
But probably only because someone got lucky today.***
Before that, I was only Level 31. And even then, only thanks to system bonuses.
Yeah, yeah. I know.
Point is—he's incredibly badass.
"So this is the 'guest'?" the hero asked in a deep, gravelly voice, studying me intently.
'How did he know that... Oh, right. It's Batman.'
(Note: Croc had managed to sneakily text Bats.)
"He was hard to shake," Croc said with a creepy smirk. "Reminds me of someone."
"A 'Super' with cryokinetic abilities and super speed. Spotted in several East Coast cities, including Gotham and Metropolis." Batman's eyes never left me. "I believe Superman addressed you as 'Frosty.'"
"Still thinking of a codename, but you can call me that for now." I tilted my head. "And how'd you know about the super speed? I only—"
"Why are you here?"
'Rude. You don't interrupt someone mid-sentence. Unless they're your enemy.'
Hmm...
"To help?" I shrugged. "Heard you two talking about an assassination attempt on the local Commissioner."
"I doubt he can be trusted," Batman said flatly.
"But you brought him here anyway."
"Well, he's a 'superhero' of sorts..." Croc air-quoted.
'You can skip the air quotes, Waylon.'
"I'm actually right here, you know."
"We know!" they replied simultaneously.
Are they best friends?! Or just coincidence?
"Regardless," Batman continued, "given the situation, his powers could be useful."
"The situation?"
"A crime lord—"
'Who's he talking about? The Joker shouldn't be around yet. So... a mob boss?'
"—didn't just hire professional assassins. He announced it in every back alley. Now various thugs are gathering to storm the GCPD and get to Gordon."
...
'What have I gotten myself into?'
[Meanwhile, Elsewhere]
"So your 'boss' is actually ready to pay half a mil for the Commissioner," a dark-haired man with a mustache repeated the info. He wore a red jacket and twirled an army knife in his hands. "And one and a half mil for that psycho in the mask?"
"Yes." The man in a black three-piece suit and hat nodded. "Doesn't matter if you work together or every man for himself. If Batman is eliminated, each of you is guaranteed a hundred thousand."
The Latino scanned the small room and his "colleagues."
Some of whom he "knew."
A bald man in a nice suit with a red tie and small briefcase.
A Japanese guy in a leather jacket, spinning a shuriken.
A bearded old man covered in scars, wearing old camo.
A blonde in sunglasses, pink top, and green mini-skirt.
A Chinese woman in a black tank top, ripped shorts, and combat boots—two Berettas in a chest holster.
And a confused, anxious man in athletic gear and a hoodie.
'The last one bothers me.'
The experienced mercenary trusted his intuition. And right now, it was screaming that those emotions were fake.
'Also, too bad he isn't here. Could've settled who's better.'
"If you hired us," the ninja spoke up, "what's the point of the circus with the mob? They'll just get in the way."
"A distraction. Keep the police busy while we lure HIM out." The suit adjusted his hat. "And to show who the real authority is in this city."
"Is Batman really that elusive? A meta? Or, as some say... a vampire?" one of the women asked.
"As far as we know, a regular human. Just very good at hiding."
"I see." The bald man rose from his chair. "Fine. I'll take the contract. Any preferences on elimination method?"
"No restrictions. Just kill them." The client handed over a folder. "All the information we have on the targets."
"I haven't hunted 'Bats' before. Interesting experience."
"You could say that, old man." The Japanese man pocketed his shuriken and walked up to collect his copy.
"Hunting Batman..." Surprise flickered across the nervous man's face again. Like he'd walked through the wrong door.
And again—that faint hint of faking it.
'He really is bothering me.'
The Latino pulled a strange gray balaclava from his jacket. It was fitted with a glowing red monocular.
[Back to Me]
'Wonder if he actually sent me on an important mission... or just sent me away because he doesn't trust me.'
I walked through empty city streets, pondering.
'Though even in the second case, it's still important. Stopping an armed mob from storming a police station...'
Either he's very confident in my power.
Or he actually wants to get rid of me.
'Okay, that last part is probably paranoia. But you can never be sure with Batman. Especially when he's friends with Croc.'
I rolled up my sleeve and checked my watch.
'Sigh. Only managed to check two of them.'
Shame. I'd have to explore the rest after the upgrade. I wanted to wait longer for experimental purity, but Fate had other plans.
I activated five [Empowerment Cards] on the Arcanatrix at once and...
Nothing changed.
Externally, the watch looked exactly the same.
But inside?
Thirteen new forms.
On one hand—cool! Thirteen more forms!
On the other hand—questionable. Too expensive. I expected more.
Though what exactly? The magic watch is already OP.
Especially now that I have a "six-armed guy," a European dragon, a multi-tailed fox...
'Wonder who that could be.'
...and "some beautiful bird." Now I have options.
'Still. Debatable.'
"Phew! Hey man, that's an interesting bracelet. Mind if I take a look?"
I turned toward the dark alley.
A whistle. A husky male voice. Gave me a strange mental itch—like it was familiar somehow.
A decent-sized crowd. Four guys detached themselves and headed toward me.
Out of curiosity, I cast [Analysis] on the first one.
'Bingo!'
"You're exactly who I was looking for!"
My cheerful voice clearly caused a glitch in their brains.
Brief stupor. Both for them and the ones staying behind.
"You're the guys who want the bounty for Commissioner Gordon's head, right?"
"Um... yeah," the kid on the right replied slowly, studying me.
The others did the same.
"Perfect!"
I applied magic.
Took a [Step].
Appeared instantly beside the husky one and buried my fist in his stomach.
He doubled over, face twisted in pain, and flew back a couple meters.
No time to waste.
I pivoted and kicked the second one in the forehead with my left leg. He flew back, knocking down the guy behind him.
"Aaaaah!"
The guy on the left recovered from shock and charged me with a furious howl. Brass knuckles gleaming.
I diverted his fist with a sweep, grabbed his wrist, and slammed my palm into his elbow.
CRACK
The limb twisted at an unnatural angle.
"Aaaaah!"
The battle cry became a pain groan real quick.
"Get him!" his buddies roared, drawing weapons.
Another [Step].
Mid-jump, I slammed both feet into the chest of an idiot with a chain.
Propped myself on my hand.
Backflipped.
Landed on my feet.
Caught a knife flying at me.
Threw it back—hit the thrower with the blunt side. Ahem.
Dodged a crowbar strike.
Left hook to the owner's face.
Got hit in the back with a bat.
Put my right leg forward to stay upright. Spun around. Punched the bat swinging at me again.
Stone fist versus wood.
I won.
CRACK
The bat flew back into the criminal's empty head.
My palm followed immediately after.
Roundhouse kick to another thug's ribs.
Blocked a chain strike with my arm.
Pulled the chain toward me.
[Step] to the side.
Blew out the kneecap of a moron with nunchucks.
Next second, someone grabbed me from behind. Arms "tightly" pinned to my torso.
His buddy wound up with an aluminum bat.
I kicked off the ground hard, launching us both into the air.
Somersault.
The guy's back took the bat hit.
His grip instantly weakened.
I landed on concrete.
Slammed my palm into the second guy's chin.
CRUNCH
Teeth went flying.
BANG BANG BANG
"What, not so tou—... What the?!"
When the missing piece of my head—including an eye—fully regenerated, deathly silence fell over the alley.
Everyone stared.
Including the previously injured.
'It's not every day you see something like that, huh?'
Right.
How did Robert Patrick do it in Terminator 2?
I brought my clenched right hand to my face.
Extended my index finger.
Wagged it from side to side.
"Fire! Kill this scum!"
In the next second, dozens of bullets and buckshot hammered my body.
Various calibers. Various sizes.
Tearing off small pieces of ice.
Sometimes large pieces.
It felt... slightly unpleasant. Like numbness.
What a handy spell [Elemental Body] is.
I definitely like it.
Too bad it requires so much mana to cast, maintain, and restore.
"Since you only understand one language—the language of pain and suffering—I'll speak only that."
The idiots finally ran out of ammo.
They stared in shock, disbelief, and horror as I instantaneously restored myself.
"Now I won't be holding back."
A [Step].
I appeared before the first loser...