56 Alarm Clock Ninja #56
Author's note: sorry for the long my absence, my dudes. There's been a death in the family and I needed sometime to help with the funeral arnagments, then some more time to process the whole situation. There's still friends and family members coming from far away to visit and offer their condolences so I don't have much free time, but once eveything settles down I'll try to release a punch of double updates to make for lost time.
...
Lying on my bed in my New York apartment, I couldn't tear my eyes away from the glowing text box floating before me. The daily deals tab beckoned with a tempting offer: a Weapon Master skill at a jaw-dropping 90% discount, priced at a mere 800 points.
My stash of points had swelled to a comfortable 2150, a significant jump from the measly 530 I'd been left with after splurging on the permanent mental shield.
Sure, I'd snagged some points from Mr. Freeze, Batman (finally), the Penguin, and even Alfred, but those gains alone couldn't explain the sudden windfall. The truth lay in the barrage of notifications flooding my inbox, announcing shifts in my relationship statuses from (Neutral) to either (Curious) or (Cautious) with unknown individuals.
The mysterious messages read like this: [Your relationship with (???) has shifted from (Neutral) to (Cautious)].
It wasn't my first rodeo with such notifications; they'd only cropped up previously when Wildcat caught sight of me in a dark alley, unbeknownst to me. Clearly, word about me was getting around.
It was a double-edged sword, leaving me simultaneously thrilled for the influx of points and apprehensive for obvious reasons. Who were these new players in my game, and what nefarious plans might they have in store for me?
"Find that out and more in the next episode! Just kidding. Who cares really?" I chuckled to myself, shaking off any lingering concerns.
Word about me spreading was inevitable, and whoever harbored nefarious plans, well, they'd have to catch me first. Besides, flying by the seat of my pants always made for a more exhilarating ride.
With a nonchalant shrug, I redirected my focus to the daily deals section, my cursor hovering over the coveted Weapon Master skill. Without a moment's hesitation, I clicked 'purchase' and sealed the deal.
The description flashed before me: [Weapon Master: Transform into the ultimate weapon-wielding virtuoso! Whether it's a baguette or a rubber chicken, you'll wield it like a pro, leaving villains quaking in their boots and bystanders questioning their life choices. With this skill, even a feather duster becomes a deadly weapon of mass dust-struction. So, grab your spatula and prepare to flip your enemies upside down with unparalleled finesse!].
"Ah, the perks of modern-day online shopping," I mused, already envisioning the endless possibilities this newfound skill would unlock.
The promise of the skill's description was enough to push me into buying it without a second thought. I mean, who wouldn't want to become a master of anything that could double as a weapon?
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted by the idea of going all Jackie Chan on my enemies-- but more importantly, this skill seemed like the perfect solution to my lack of combat finesse, especially after getting my butt handed to me by the Riddler back in the asylum.
Of course, enhancing my shadow powers was a big plus, but what really sold me was the versatility. I mean, think about it—almost anything can be used as a weapon if you get creative enough. A car? That's a weapon if you're willing to go full "Mad Max." The same goes for a plane or a boat.
Put simply, with this skill, I could channel my inner NASCAR driver if I ever decided to weaponize a car. And it didn't stop there—this mastery extended to anything and everything, from conventional weapons to everyday objects like furniture.
Picture this: me, wielding a chair like a pro and....
Okay, maybe there aren't many practical applications for wielding a chair outside of combat, so maybe that wasn't the most convincing example, but you catch my drift.
The possibilities with this skill were practically endless. Who knows? Maybe I'll be the first person in history to beat someone within an inch of their life using a baguette. Hey, stranger things have happened in my life lately.
"Alright..." I grumbled, rolling off my bed with all the grace of a sloth on a Monday morning. "Let's give this a whirl..." I announced to my rat, Rattigan, who seemed more interested in his own fur than my impromptu swordplay. His beady eyes, however, perked up at my words, fixed on me like he was expecting a show.
"Watch closely, rat!" I exclaimed, extending my hand and conjuring a shadowy sword in my right palm. With my left, I grabbed an alarm clock from my bedside table and flung it into the air like I was auditioning for a bizarre circus act.
As I mentally prepared to slice the annoying clock in two, my brain felt like it was doing backflips in a pool of information. My hand moved with a mind of its own, adjusting to grip the shadowy blade like I was born with it. Then, channeling my inner sword saint—or maybe just my alarm clock ninja—I flipped the blade and sliced upward faster than a cat chasing a laser pointer. Blink and you'd miss it.
In a matter of milliseconds, the once-whole alarm clock was now lying on the ground in two perfect halves. My eyes widened in disbelief as I stared at the sliced clock, feeling like I'd stumbled into a cheesy action movie.
"Well, would you look at that," I muttered to myself, half expecting applause from an invisible audience, and it did come, but from the cheeky rodent, spectating my antics like a king watching his personal jester.
Though everything happened unconsciously and in the blink of an eye, I managed to temper my strength, and the result was nothing short of astonishing. Testing the limits of this newfound skill would have to wait for another day.
But Enough about that for now. I'm sure you're eager to hear about my deal with Bruce, and here I am rambling on about my latest power-up. Annoying, right?
Anyway, let's address the elephant in the room: I turned down Bruce's offer. Before you grab your torches and pitchforks, let me explain. The idea of running a mental asylum under my direction was undeniably tempting.
I could have folks like Mr. Freeze working for me even while locked up, and have the doctors vouch for their rehabilitation. But truth be told, it felt like too much hassle and a massive time sink for a guy who just wanted to enjoy life like me.
Naturally, I didn't spill the beans about my desire to simply goof off and have fun—I'm not that thick-skinned. Instead, I diplomatically told Bruce it was a hefty responsibility and not quite aligned with my life goals at the moment. But Bruce, stubborn as ever, wasn't having any of it.
He insisted I wouldn't need to do anything extra, just carry on with my usual antics.
Upon hearing Bruce's proposal, I instinctively fell back on my ultimate weapon: my stubborn pride. I made it clear to Bruce that while the idea was enticing, I wasn't keen on everything being handed to me on a silver platter. I'd always been accustomed to earning my keep, and being given so much help didn't sit right with me.
It might have been foolish and stubborn, but that's just the kind of person I am. Back in my old world, I lived by relying on myself, and I intended to do the same here.
Bruce seemed perturbed by my refusal, but he wasn't one to give up easily. He suggested that he proceed with the construction and legalities of the establishment, and once everything was set up and ready to go, I could simply buy it from him and take over.
With that proposition, I found myself running out of reasons to say no, so I reluctantly agreed. But before sealing the deal, I laid down a few conditions.
The first condition caught Bruce off guard: I insisted that the asylum be built in New York instead of Gotham. Naturally, Bruce was intrigued and questioned my choice.
That's when I dropped the bombshell on him—the revelation that Gotham was cursed, thanks to some ancient warlock buried beneath the city. Let me tell you, his reaction was priceless.
As Bruce's face went from "aha" to "uh-oh" in record time, I couldn't help but smirk at the sheer rollercoaster of emotions playing out before me. But it wasn't until I dropped the bombshell about Arkham Asylum possibly being on a spiritual hotspot that his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
With Bruce finally on board, I laid out the rest of my terms, and surprisingly, he was all ears. After sealing the deal, I bid adieu to the Batcave, leaving Bruce with a parting gift of sorts—a recommendation to call in the big guns like Constantine or maybe even Spawn (if he existed in this world) to tackle Gotham's curses.
And that, my friends, is how the cookie crumbled.
The whole situation felt like a bizarre role reversal. Normally, I'd be the one flaunting my knowledge and dangling tempting offers to get others on board with my plans. But there I was, turning down Bruce's proposition and calling the shots for once, only to be convinced by him in the end.
It was a strange twist of fate, but hey, I wasn't complaining. It was kind of refreshing to be on the other side of the negotiation table for once.
