40 Bamboozled #40
Having multiple options on the table, leaving seemed like the least appealing. Sure, I could easily use my Storm Walker shoes and Guardian Veil to slip away from Hush, but abandoning the situation meant fewer points, and I wasn't about to let my efforts go to waste. Helping Hush complete his plan was out of the question.
Betting against Batman was a losing game, and even if the gamble paid off, dealing with the Justice League wasn't something I fancied. Foiling Hush's plan emerged as the only viable option.
Lost in contemplation, the Riddler's voice cut through my thoughts. "You're not begrudging me that bit of fun earlier, are you?" he said, his words pulling me back to the present.
I turned to find him grinning, apparently reveling in the chaos unfolding around us.
"Originally, I planned to make my grand entrance after Hush, give him a good whack on the head, and take over the spotlight. But, alas, he's a bit camera-shy – only wanted Bats as his audience," he explained with a nonchalant shrug. "I had to draw him out somehow," he concluded.
I responded with a raised eyebrow. "I don't really care about that-- just weighing my options..." I said, peering over the cover.
The sight that greeted me wasn't comforting – armed men pouring out from the maximum security wing, wielding an array of weaponry, from assault rifles to submachine guns and even rocket launchers. Always the friggen rocket launchers.
"Still, the situation is spiraling out of control," I stated, my gaze darting between the heavily armed adversaries. "How about we call a truce? It's getting messier than a clown car collision."
The Riddler, ever the enigma, met my proposition with a contemplative stroke of his chin. His eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint, and a slow grin spread across his face. "A truce, you say?" he mused, savoring the idea like a fine wine. "I suppose even chaotic symphonies need a brief intermission."
As the armed entourage advanced, their arsenal making a convincing argument for cooperation, the Riddler extended a gloved hand toward me. "Truce it is, friend," he declared, the smirk never leaving his face. "But let's establish some ground rules, shall we? No sabotaging my plans after this, and no peeking at my riddles in advance. A gentleman's agreement, if you will."
I eyed his outstretched hand warily, considering the implications of shaking hands with a man who lived for the unpredictable.
Yet, the pressing threat outside our cover urged me to play along. I clasped Riddler's hand firmly, sealing our makeshift alliance. "Gentleman's agreement, it is," I affirmed, a cautious smile on my lips.
With our brief truce established, the armed group closed in, their leader taking center stage. Clad in a menacing ensemble, Hush surveyed the scene with cold determination, his bandaged face revealing nothing of his emotions.
"Well, well, look who's decided to crash the party," the Riddler remarked, his voice carrying a mix of mockery and amusement as he swaggered out from our makeshift cover.
"Why are you still lurking around, Nygma? Our little deal should've expired by now," Hush interrogated, his tone sharp and uncompromising. "You're not thinking of teaming up with the upstart still hiding there, are you?"
The Riddler, always quick with words, replied with a sly grin. "You see I've found a shared distaste for your brand of chaos with my new friend here. ..." He said, gesturing toward me. "Plus, I couldn't help but take offense at the missile you sent flying toward me..."
"That was rather impolite!" He exclaimed, and without waiting for a rebuttal, the Riddler smoothly tossed concealed smoke pellets into the air. Our surroundings instantly transformed into a dense fog, cloaking us from view.
Thinking on my feet, I activated my Storm Walker Shoes, hoisted the Riddler over my shoulder like a sack of spuds, and dashed away just as Hush unleashed another missile in our direction.
Mid-sprint, the Riddler's voice reached me, muffled by the thick smoke. He handed me a pair of sunglasses, urging me to put them on. Skepticism painted my expression, but I complied.
To my surprise, the world revealed through the shades unveiled the shapes of everyone inside the smokescreen, akin to a stylish version of thermal vision goggles.
"Take care of the underlings and stir up some chaos," the Riddler hollered amidst the commotion. "I'll attempt to slip past them and facilitate that wack on the back of Hush's head we talked about earlier...."
I hesitated for a moment but nodded after a brief pause. For all his wacky schemes and obsession with puzzles, the Riddler was as intelligent as they came, so he probably had a plan in mind. Plus, he wasn't one to easily break his word, so I had no reason to distrust him in this situation.
Spotting Hush's lackeys through the smoke as Riddler slipped away, I maneuvered between cover, creating sporadic diversions to divert their attention from the Riddler's stealthy maneuvers.
The rhythmic thump of footsteps and the occasional clatter of weaponry echoed the movements of Hush's armed cronies. With each impromptu performance, the Riddler inched closer to his elusive target.
As I continued my guerrilla antics, the tension in the air thickened, foreshadowing an imminent showdown between the enigmatic architects of mayhem within the heart of Arkham Asylum.
...
After what felt like an eternity and draining my Storm Walker Shoes' charges, I finally incapacitated the last of Hush's lackeys, and the lingering smoke gradually dissipated.
Surveying the area, I caught sight of Hush sprawled on the ground, Batman looming over him. Well, everything seemed to have fallen into place... wait, Batman!?
Reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I frantically glanced around, but there was no trace of the Riddler. Even Harley and her hyenas had vanished. I'd been played like a fiddle.
Returning my attention to Batman, who was bestowing upon me the infamous bat glare, I could only manage a sheepish smile. "You let the Riddler and Harley Quinn slip away," he stated matter-of-factly, and I could only scratch my head in a rare moment of speechlessness.
"Nevertheless, you averted potential casualties and exposed the mastermind behind this chaos. Good work," Batman acknowledged, turning away just as the sounds of approaching footsteps signaled the arrival of the Gotham Police Department – always fashionably late.
"Do better next time," he added, utilizing his grappling hook to vanish into the dark night sky. Oddly, he didn't bother with the usual theatrics; he just left.
"Did I just get praised by Batman...." I muttered, releasing a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Huh... somehow this is the craziest thing that ever happened in my life, and transmigrated to another world not too long ago..." I sighed, genuinely not knowing what just happened.
Shaking away the stray thoughts, I melded into the shadows, slipping away before the police could descend upon the scene. Another night in Gotham, with mysteries solved and new ones unfolding in the darkness, I suppose.
...
Sauntering toward the bed in my New York apartment, I flung myself onto it, observing Rattigan as he settled on his improvised throne and commenced his meticulous grooming over the nightstand.
Rolling my eyes, I pondered the Arkham Asylum situation. Sure, I could have expedited things with Rattigan's assistance, but I stuck to my guns – or, in this case, my principles. Overreliance on the cheeky rodent didn't align with my preference for self-reliance.
Putting those thoughts aside, it was time to assess my gains. Victor Zsasz contributed a solid 350 points, our encounter leaving our relationship status at (enemy). Dr. Joan and Arnold Wesker chipped in a combined 150 points.
Harley's opinion of me shifted from (Neutral) to (impressed), netting me 250 points. Hush's antagonistic role brought in another 250 points, with our relationship now classified as (hostile).
The Riddler, surprisingly generous, handed me a whopping 500 points, elevating our relationship from (neutral) to (frenemy). Topping it all off, the system added a hefty 500 points as a quest reward, resulting in a sumptuous 2000 points – 2080, to be precise, when combined with my existing, meager balance. A bountiful harvest indeed.
It was a windfall of points, a treasure trove that nearly equaled all my expenditures so far. The prospect of a lavish shopping spree tantalized my senses, but there was another reward on my checklist – unlocking the system's edit function.
As if sensing my contemplation, a system notification materialized in my vision.
[Congratulations! You have unlocked the Edit Function.]
Before I could ponder the nature of this mysterious function, another notification swiftly followed.
[Introducing the Edit Function—a linguistic wizard's delight! Modify your skills and items with a stroke of wordplay magic. Add or erase letters and words to items and skills names and descriptions! Be warned, though—linguistic mastery comes at a pointy price! Transform your "Rusty Sword" into a "Demonic Excalibur." or your "Stealth Mod" into a " Dance of Shadows!" Points are your currency, so splurge wisely and be careful what you wish for!]
...
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