[The Glades, January 11, 2008 9:47 PM]
After meeting with Lodai and discussing the requirements and payments, Oliver returned to Star City and went straight to the Glades instead of returning home. His earlier encounter with the brazen and now dead young men had changed his perspective on things and drawn his attention to the severity of the crime problem in that section of the city.
Truth be told, after cycling through all the various possible paths for him to follow in this life, crime fighting was one of the first he discarded. The way he saw it, his powers and abilities were well suited for going after large groups and big bads, not street level criminals. Spending his time chasing after them did not sound appealing one bit.
However, this was in no way a complete ignorance of them or a dismissal of the threat they posed. If they hurt someone and near or around him, he would intervene, as observed with the demise of those five men. He just would never go looking for them like this, preferring to go after large groups of their kinds and the people they answered to.
This decided course of action was further bolstered by the fact that being a crime fighter would not earn him much souls. Despite his stance on killing, he did not believe every criminal or evildoer deserved to die. If he'd learned anything from comics and real life, it's that most things in reality were grey, with few being the black and white most perceived.
This was especially true when it came to humans. Take a look at his situation. Should his secrets be exposed to the world right now, most would brand him an insane serial killer. The fear and panic that would ensue, especially among the powers of the world, would lead them to try and destroy or control him.
Some would call for his arrest, others his head, and some his obedience. But one thing is for sure, even if the truth behind his actions came out, none would change their minds and fewer would think of him as good. He was a killer. Period. That and the law alone was enough to brand him as a monster.
But he knew the truth. Yes, he killed all those mercenaries on the island, and yes, he enjoyed it. But if they hadn't died, a lot of lives would have been lost, and it would have been on him.
Not just Yao Fei or Slade or even the plane they planned to blow up. If he had allowed them to live, their future endeavors would probably lead to more innocent lives being lost or destroyed.
Personally, he was fine with being called evil, after all he thought of himself a little that way. No good person enjoyed taking the lives of others. And so though he considered himself an evil person, he made sure that every kill of his produced a "good" outcome. This is where the line between the two stances of good and evil blurred.
To him, his actions, though heinous, were a necessity. If he hadn't stopped and killed those would-be rapists and rather just handed them over to the police, there would always exist the chance of them obtaining freedom. And when that happened, they would be free to reenact that atrocious act, probably with more precautions.
He couldn't have that, because if that indeed happened, it would be his fault. Why? It all owed to the fact that he could have done something to prevent it. Rather than trust in a flawed justice system that would spit these pieces of shit back onto the street, he'd rather trust himself and his gift to eradicate their very existence.
After all, if they didn't exist, they could not hurt anyone.
Not all criminals were like this though. Unlike those guys, there were those whose crimes, circumstances and intentions blurred the line. For such people, he could leave to the police and prison system to straighten them out. They were also the reason he didn't go around killing willy-nilly whilst patrolling the Glades in the past three days.
Like he expected, despite stopping dozens of muggings, assaults, and break-ins, the whole three days of vigilante activities earned him only two souls. Crime fighting was not profitable at all.
However, going after clandestine organizations was, that's why currently, he sat on the roof of a building with his eyes closed and [Eagle Pulse] active, his focus on a building more than a hundred meters away.
The 'meetup' warehouse right now had people in it unlike how he first discovered it. During his visit with Tockman, he learned that on Fridays, the camera recording the building and surrounding vicinity produced nothing but static for the full 24 hours. Knowing this, his next steps were easy.
When morning broke today, he put a pause on the vigilante activities and positioned himself at a suitable vantage point to stake out the target. They arrived at 9:00 on the dot, but the person he wanted to see wasn't with them.
Dante didn't come with his subordinates, giving weight to his theory that Emiko hadn't accepted his offer to join the organization.
In the past three days, he made sure to check on her at regular intervals to see if she made contact with her circle daddy. Nothing of the sort of happened, with her rather calling her mother and visiting her everyday.
In an attempt to deduce her state of mind, he used [Enhanced Synesthesia] on her and discovered something he didn't expect.
Guilt, regret, and sadness. These were the messages her aura conveyed to him. The discovery shocked and confused him. Didn't she hate Robert for abandoning her?
Just like Moira's grief though, he soon understood that her emotional state was due to the machinations of that pesky phenomenon: love.
Even though Robert treated her and her mother like dirt, he was still her father, and she loved him. Her regret probably stemmed from letting her emotions get the better of her, leading to his death. As for the guilt and sadness, they were self explanatory.
Taking all of this and Dante's absence into account, he deduced that she probably hasn't spoken to him since then, meaning joining the circle was the last thing on her mind right now.
'Good, I can work with this,' he thought and stood up.
With regards to the reason why Dante's subordinates had come to the warehouse, the two couriers that had come to make deliveries there served as the only clue. If the sound of paper shuffling against each other told him anything, money is what these delivery boys and girls carried to the warehouse.
Sensing another courier approaching the building, he opened his eyes and stood up before leaping onto another roof. Using controlled bursts of speed every time he landed, he soon arrived at a position to intercept the courier.
Waiting until the hooded guy entered the secluded alley, he jumped down and landed behind him with a loud and audible thud.
Shocked as to what the noise could be, the courier felt a small breeze as he spun around in alarm, his legs poised to carry him to safety. When an empty alleyway graced his sight, he chalked it up to a trick of the mind, only for him to rescind that thought as he felt something prick his neck.
He swung his arm back on instinct, hitting empty air, an act that seemingly sapped the strength out of him. Clutching his neck, he swung wildly as darkness crept on his vision and his legs turned to jelly. Soon, he lay on the ground, positioned in a manner that suggested an attempt to crawl somewhere.
Oliver, naturally the one responsible, appeared near his Trojan horse in a burst of speed and got to work. He opened the backpack and saw bundles of money wrapped up in cellophane, eliciting a jubilant smile from him.
'I knew it.'
The fact that they all had wrappings didn't bother him despite his objective.
His goal was to find the base of the Ninth Circle. But these guys were slippery and paranoid motherfuckers.
With his [Spirit Marking] all he had to do was mark the representatives Dante sent today and follow them to him. That however, was easier said than done.
None of their vehicles were parked outside the building. All of them were in the tightly secured and guarded warehouse, crawling the acolytes of the circle.
Even with super speed, he could not break in and mark anything or anyone without alerting them to a mishap.
These guys had remained anonymous for a reason, and he wasn't prideful enough to think they would overlook such an occurrence. And so he settled for a Trojan horse.
Mark the money being delivered and follow it to wherever it goes. Dante was guaranteed to be at wherever it ended…that is if the comics were accurate.
And so, picking up a wrapped bundle of money, he channeled spectral energy into his finger and pressed it against the bundle. Like the wrapper did not exist, the energy went through it and marked a random five of the notes underneath.
After running all sorts of tests when he first received it, Oliver discovered this unique thing about spectral energy. It ignored anything he wanted it to ignore, passing through them like they did not exist. Such a property brought to mind ghosts and attacks that bypassed defense.
Unfortunately, he could only shelve those ideas since every attempt to weaponize the energy saw failure. Moving on, he marked a couple of notes in every bundle with success and put them back in the bag, making it as though nothing had changed.
With the payload setup, the time had come to wake up the person who would deliver it. Taking out another syringe, he injected the courier with something to wake him and made himself scarce, vanishing from the area.
Slowly but surely, the sleeping guy regained consciousness and sat up, shaking his head and blinking repeatedly in an effort to remember what happened.
Once clarity returned, remembrance followed, causing terror to grip the young man. He pulled his bag from behind him, opening it and hoping to death the money hadn't been stolen.
His worries turned out to be unfounded as he set eyes on carefully wrapped packages, their numbers and sizes intact.
Unable to believe his luck and understand why or who did this to him, he slung the bag back into his shoulders and skedaddled out of the alley, leaving the truth of what happened to him back there.
Under the watchful guidance of his stalker, he arrived at the warehouse, received a full and thorough search before being allowed in.
Using the combination of [Enhanced Synesthesia] and [Eagle Pulse], Oliver maintained a close watch on the courier's actions and whatever he said. His worries did not come to pass.
No words or secret signals were exchanged between him and Dante's representative. The guy just delivered the money and hurried out of there.
With the success of this plan, Oliver returned to the stakeout point to wait and meditate. Even though he meditated, some part of him remained vigilant and watched for any changes.
After about two hours, Dante's representatives, a duo of a man and woman, moved, prompting Oliver to wake up and focus on the warehouse fully. The duo moved downstairs, where the acolytes started the vehicles and held the doors open for their leaders.
That isn't what interested him though, as the duo started conversing on their way down from the upper floor. The woman dressed in black with an overcoat of the same color, said with slight venom in her tone.
"I told you she won't come today. Why does Dante keep sending us here? What does he see in her?"
The man, dressed similar to his partner, showed no reaction to the complaints, having heard them an uncountable number of times. And like every other time, he gave this response.
"Dante is the leader. Our job is to follow his orders, not interpret them."
"Tch…I know. It just bothers me how much time and space he's given her. She should've joined us by now."
Despite his earlier words, the man agreed with this sentiment, but that didn't mean his words were empty. Even if he couldn't understand Dante's motives, he had no right to question them. And so, shelving the matter aside, he stopped at a vehicle and gestured at his partner to enter.
"Alright. Let's go."
In less than a minute, everyone was seated, and the cars rolled out of the warehouse, driving to a destination Oliver could guess. Having received proof of his theory regarding his wayward sister, he felt relieved that he didn't have to kill her.
Locking in on the marked currency notes, he started tailing them, using his speed to keep up and remain hidden in the broad daylight.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
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