It's a big, fat, fucking joke by West-Door-88 (DC and Young Justice)
Guy gets reincarnated as the son of The Question. I googled it, and apparently he's another Batman kind of guy, but is more into the detective work and less interdimensional universal threats Batman seems to fave every weekend
In the story, the Question is in the Justice League, which they added in. And the son enters the Young Justice squad.
He's also kind of Joker crazy, but on the good guys side.
---------------
Philosophers in the past and present have talked about free-will. Personally I believe that we have free-will, but when you wake up in a world where you know that your will is not yours, when you know that somebody is choosing every move and every thought you make, you are bound to get a little bit crazy. That's why I turned this miserable place into a sick comedy.
WC: 38k+
Website: Ffn.net
Chapter 1
My name… is Gary Sage.
…
At least my name isn't 'Dildoface'
That was the first shred of thought that went through my head as I ate a hamburger with my foster father on the other side, who wolfed down on his burger. I was at the age of six at that time and I knew something was up with my father Vic Sage.
He wasn't bad or anything. He didn't beat me and roared at me to get another bottle of alcohol; he didn't neglect me as if I were some excess luggage. He took genuine care in raising me up, and he had an honest job as a journalist. But if there was something that was off about Vic Sage, it would be the way he sometimes looked at me, which was filled with sadness and guiltiness. Not to mention his nightly activities where he would go out after checking that I was asleep.
Too bad he didn't know I had a few surveillance cameras placed in my own room.
Why do I have surveillance cameras in my own room? Well… my development of paranoia helped.
Paranoia was something that first came to me when I realized that there was an indestructible man flying around with a red cape and shooting lasers out of his eyes; a vigilante in a bat-themed costume with some highly advanced tech; a beautiful woman wearing something a stripper would wear and fighting head on with monsters that looked undefeatable. I instantly knew I would get fucked over by this world if I didn't keep my guard up. Fucking DC… fucking heroes and villains…
What earth am I even in? How many earths are there in the first place? Fucking hell, I should've read more comics when I had the chance. Yeah, yeah, I'm a reincarnation, yada yada yada, fuck off now will you?
I'm fifteen now, and I know for sure that my parents in this world had some weird ass genes in them that passed on to me because Jesus almighty I was ripped and I enjoyed exercises.
Can you believe that? I was a social butterfly nerd back in my original birthplace and I hated doing anything that has to do with stepping out of my blanket. Now? I do a 30 minute yoga routine the minute I wake up and perform about a thousand stomach crunches.
But I wasn't complaining. Exercising was good for your body, and having a fit body was important for survival.
…
At least we aren't in Gotham city. I doubt I could keep my sanity.
Anyways… where was dad?
I had no idea he would drive a taxi late at night and boy it is fucking hard to run and jump from roof to roof to keep up with him.
By the time the cab came to a stop, I was caked in sweat, dust, and feathers from the fucking pidgeons that flew right through me when I jumped from one roof to the next.
It was a miracle I was still alive.
…
Okay, dad's out of the ca— WHERE THE FUCK DID HIS FACE GO?!
My jaws dropped in pure surprise as I nearly dropped my binocular.
Instead of the strawberry-blond hair I used to see everyday, Vic Sage now had blue hair, a blue overcoat, and a fedora.
…
BUT WHERE IS HIS FACE?!
His eyes, his lips, his nose…! Everything seemed to melt down and become stuck with his face…! Jesus H. Christ! This was fucking horrifying! Was this the Matrix? Is there a fucking around here somewhere? That would explain the existence of DC heroes and villains lurking around this shithole…
…
Is that even dad?
Well… physical structure-wise, I would have to begrudgingly say 'yes'. That is dad.
…
…
…
The hell is he going?
The hell is this place?!
Chin€se mobsters?! This is the exact place I don't want to be in!
…
But I was mesmerized by my dad's fighting skills, I mean… I know my dad was ripped when we both worked out in the gym or in the park, but man that punch could break every single tooth in a human's jaw.
Can I do that?
Eh, better not.
…
Yeah, I'm definitely not going to do that.
…
Is he… dead…? Yeah, obviously. You don't get back up after that cracking sound comes from your neck.
…
You know what…? This is getting awfully enjoyable to watch. If I only had some popcorn and sprite…
…
When did that sniper guy appear? And how in the fucking hell didn't he saw me? Me, who is currently only a few meters away from him?! Oh no…! Oh hell no! Although this might not be quite realistically real 'real', I don't want some Chin€se asshole(this is not being racist. This is a factual statement of me describing an asshole who is apparently Chin€se) killing off somebody that has taken care for me and loved me!
Sooooo… that was my first kill and the way the gangster died was… pretty pathetic.
I had no idea a shard of glass would be so effective up against a man's ass that he would squeal a soprano and jump downwards, headfirst.
…
To be fair, it went up 3 inches.
So down he went onto the hard concrete floor as his head cracked open like an egg and the first reaction I showed was to wince and put my right hand to my mouth, as if a dainty lady would do when she gossips with her friends. But… I had to stifle my laughter from coming out.
The position of the dead body was quite hilarious when I took a second look. His face was caved into the ground and his butt was sticking up in the air with the self-improvised glass dildo. And… seeing it from so far up from where I was spying on my dad, I easily ignored the blood and the gore on the floor, but rather focused my attention to the funny pose of the dead gangster.
So I laughed, without noticing that my dad had already rounded up the Chin€se gangsters 3 minutes ago and was staring with an extremely good poker face in my direction.
"So… is this how you publish your kickass stories in your newspapers?"
"..."
"Are you ever going to talk?"
"..."
"Look… I know you're dad okay?"
"... no I'm not"
"Dad, that's the lamest denial I've ever heard. I literally followed you all the way up to here"
"..."
"Oh come on! Isn't this the time you get your facial features back, get rid of your dye and costume, then have a serious conversation with your son about killing Chin€se gangsters?"
"Oh fine then!" Cried my dad as he sprayed some kind of weird chemicals all over his face.
"What are you… ohhhhhhh" I exclaimed in pure surprise. "It was a mask…"
It was a mask indeed as it peeled off from my dad. Surprisingly, the weird gaseous chemicals also turned his hair and clothing back to normal.
"Gary, we need to talk"
"No shit , is that what you've been doing this whole entire time?!"
"Don't talk to me like that!"
"... okay, I do apologize for saying the s-word"
"Isn't there anything else you should be apologizing for?"
"Uhhh… disregarding the value of my life?"
My dad actually blinked before talking again.
"Well… yeah, that"
We sat together in silence as the cab played on the crappy disco music.
"Oh, I'm also concerned by your lack of respect for life. You've been showing that tendency for some time"
That is… true. I saw this world as fiction and everybody in it didn't feel quite real to me. Although I knew that this world was real to me and having people in capes was a reality, the fact that this was a comic book plot always pulled me back into a state of uncaringness for many things.
"Come on dad!" I whined. "The dude was going to blow your head off with a sniper, and as far as I know, your only ability is to use some martial arts and make yourself look creepy as fuck. You can't avoid a sniper bullet dad, you could've died! Of course I feel no guilt for saving your life!"
"Also, I'm quite shocked that you laughed after killing somebody"
"... okay, I will admit that was kinda psychopathic of me, but you should've seen what I've seen! The dude died hilariously! His butt was… his butt was… haha… Pehahahahahahahahaha…! Ha… ha… … sorry"
Dad groaned as he slammed his forehead down on his handle.
"Fuck… it feels wrong to even scold you for what you did… Since I've had my share of killing…"
"Do you feel anything yourself?"
"... some stress relief I guess… no guilt since I was doing the right thing…"
"... speaking of guilt, when are you going to tell me how you adopted me?"
"Later Gary. Later"
"..."
"..."
"... can you teach me how to fight?"
"Wh— fine, I guess"
"Really? Just like that?"
"I want to shield you away from the world I live in Gary… I really want to, but after seeing you up there, laughing your head off after killing somebody? … I don't know what to think anymore. I love you and all, but… do I need to get a therapist?"
"Absolutely not!" I cut in. "They only make shit worse!"
"Of course they do" Murmured my dad as he banged his head one more time on the steering wheel, ignoring the fact that I cussed. "And I don't think your tendency to devalue life would drop… The least I can do to you is to make sure you don't make a habit out of killing or having fun while doing it…"
"Soooo… you've given up on my lack of empathy…? Sorta?"
"Well…" Dad scratched his cheek in embarrassment. "Yeah… I mean, you're not that unsympathetic. Heck, you're a social butterfly in your school unlike me. Also, I don't really value the lives of those who turned to the side of evil and that's why I don't have any guilt from taking their lives… I do what I must, to protect the innocent"
I listened with interest as I took off my shoes and sat cross legged. Similar to his, my philosophy with dealing with criminals was the same, but…
…
…
…
Knowing the truth that this isn't a 'real' world helps me to hurt others without remorse.
"So, why does that have to do with training me how to fight?"
"Somebody else saw you when you killed that sharpshooter"
"... really?"
"You were laughing really loudly"
"Well… at least they don't have a picture of me… right…?"
"They already have I'm afraid"
"Fuck"
"Don't worry, it was dark so I they haven't got your face… but I have to make sure you can protect yourself. Good thing you already have a strong and a flexible body, it wouldn't take long to train you how to fight"
"... I would prefer a double barrel shotgun?"
"... yeah, firearms could work too"
"You weren't joking when you said you would prefer a double barrell shotgun" Grumbled my dad as I pumped my shotgun as two empty pellets dropped to the floor. Man, I felt like James Bond.
As for hand to hand combat, I learned the basics from dad. Always look at the person's eyes and chest. That's where the intentions and movement start from.
Next, using the environment to my advantage.
I've been learning that for the last few weeks until I picked up using a revolver. Nearly blew away my dad's fingers when I didn't know they were already loaded. We changed the cartridges to rubber since they'll still hurt like a bitch.
As for the shotgun… I have no idea what I should change it's cartridges to…
"Have any idea what I should change them into?"
"Rubber?"
"Dad, we already used that for my revolver. Can we get a bit more creative?"
"The reasoning is quite illogical, but I'll accept if you come up with a better option"
"Tear gas?"
My dad blinked by my suggestion and then sent me a genuine grin.
"That'll work for sure"
"Get that thing away from me!"
"It's not dangerous or anything! It's just a chemical concoction that would make sure the mask stays on! Gary, GARY! Come back here!"
"How do you know that chemical isn't some kind of long-term poison that would slowly kill you and give you cancer!"
"... I-I'm not 100% sure…"
"Dad, you're probably one of the most paranoid guys in Hub city, how can you NOT consider such a fact?"
"It is only poisonous to lethal wounds… but… that information only came from the notebook of the experiment… But I do trust Tot…"
"Thot?"
"Tot! Not 'thot'! He's my mentor!"
"... who fucks with you? Haha, dad I'm just joking, no wait, don't point that at me! It was just a joke! That's loaded with a real bulle—"
BANG
I screamed as I was flung across the room as the steel bullet was stuck on my bulletproof vest. Then, I started to curse like a sailor as my dad laughed.
"How does it feel like to get hit with a bullet?"
"Fucking… HURTS!"
"No shit son"
"Coming to think of it, I never got your name"
My dad paused before speaking.
"You know my name, Vic Sage"
"... holy shit dad, is that not even your real name?"
"It's a long story okay?!" Yelled my dad as we drove through the streets.
It has been a full month since I've killed, and when my dad and I noticed that the Chin€se mobsters started to get quiet we decided to investigate what they knew and hopefully, get rid of the photo of me laughing. But, we both knew the probability that we could take back that photo is close to a freaking zero.
We debated on whether I should stay in the panic room while he went to investigate, or if I should tag along with him. Dad and I agreed on the fact that it would be safer if I stayed by his side.
Then came the problem of not knowing what the people called my dad. I couldn't just call him dad now can I?
Unfortunately, I have only seen a few of his appearances in the newspapers and I was too busy learning how to fight to do a proper research.
"They call me the Question"
"So… I'll call you Q?"
"That'll work, what do you want me to call you?"
I blinked, then threw my head backwards and gave a good roaring laugh. Dad wasn't fazed, since I've been doing that every now and then when I learned Superman existed. I laughed my head off when I heard that the Joker was arrested. I laughed my heart out when I saw masked freaks in the streets. I laughed and laughed and laughed in front of the television screen. When my dad asked me what the punchline was, I simply told him what Charlie Chaplin told the world.
"Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up, but a comedy in a long-shot"
My dad understood me instantly after I said those words.
Now I was laughing because I was becoming what I dreaded of becoming: a part of this world's secret society, having my own story, and becoming an entertainment for those who would most certainly read my expeditions.
I have already decided what I would be called. Me, an entertainment. Well fine then. I played the part of a fool many times in my original world, what's one more performance going to do?
"Call me the Comedian" I replied as I flicked a yellow smiley face into the air.
"How fitting" Murmured the Question as yellow gas began to fill our car.
Just because Question wears skin, does not mean that his son would do the same. It was creepy and I disliked it. It didn't fit me. It fit the Question a lot more.
So, with a bulletproof vest, night-vision goggles, and several armor I walked side to side with my dad with a simple smile on our faces(although Question's face was unseeable) humming crappy music from some bad pop artist.
Before we decided on intruding, we did some homework on the place we were going to invade. Apparently, there was an unused hatch somewhere around…
"Ah-ha!" Exclaimed the Question as the hatch opened with a click. Meanwhile, I was checking our back making sure that there was nobody.
"Come, Comedian" Said the Question as he rubbed his hands together. "Let us find where these questions lead to shall we?"
I gave a grin as we went inside.
I shot a guy in the dick.
Sure it was a dick move, but at least I made the pellet bounce on the floor before it got to the man's crotch.
He did scream like a little bitch.
"Here comes the punchline!" I roared as a fist with a brass-knuckle smashed into a guy's face causing him to lose a couple of teeth. Meanwhile, the Question was handling things quite well on his own as he threw a chair at a group of men who were firing from their machine guns before rolling away.
Grunting, I hid behind a wooden box that was filled with toy dolls that had a little package of drugs. Taking out the flashbang, I threw it towards the people who were shooting at us without looking.
"Did you throw it well?" Asked the Question.
"Wait for it…" Then with a loud bang, a cries of "-----------"(not mud grass horse) spread out like wildfire.
(Turns out Webnovel don't like having Chinese characters in non-Chinese works. At first I didn't know and it just said 'as you included Chinese or Korean', so I went through every Chinese and replaced it with Chin€se. That was me not the author. So yeah)
"Now" I said as I threw a smoke bomb towards them. I signaled the Question to retreat as I began shooting tear gas towards the billowing smoke and any signs of movement.
"Nice" Spoke the Question as he cleared our way, punching and kicking down gangsters who were in our way of retreat.
"You got what you came here for?" I yelled over the noise. Q signalled me a yes. With a nod, we ran out as the Question paused to take a few photos while nobody was noticing.
"For your… you know, work?" I asked cautiously.
"Indeed" He replied as we fled through the night. "The Chin€se are going to spend a few months recovering after I let this big article blow up"
"The photo?"
"I checked, it luckily doesn't have your face"
"But it's still there right?"
"Yes, it's now impossible to erase the trace of it since it's already uploaded and shared amongst others"
I cursed.
"This is so coming back to bite my ass someday"
"It unfortunately is… but we are going to be prepared for the day it does"
I sighed.
My future is already half fucked up. I wouldn't be surprised to meet with new shit that comes up tomorrow.
The day after the Chin€se were the Irish. The next episode after the Irish were the Russians. The week after that was a bunch of American gangsters. Then we figured out the corrupt government official behind this shithole where he orchestrated a steady stream of income into his wallet.
The Question and I stripped him naked, sparing his boxers and hung him by his ankles using a crane that was being used to build a hospital which it's real purpose was to wash the politician's money along with having a new way of smuggling drugs.
A reporter named Vic Sage reported all of this shitstorm in the newspaper after the authorities arrested him for carrying illegal firearms.
One sad thing I learned while dealing with crime was that Hub city was notorious for having more crime than in Gotham city. At least this place wasn't infested with psychos and named villains who killed hundreds within 3 hours.
Slowly, but surely we were tearing down the crime organizations of Hub city.
While doing so, I managed to upgrade my double barrel shotgun. Now, the big beauty was way larger, way fancier, and way cooler. Plus, I had multiple types of cartridges, while rubber was the most common one. When using teargas, we found out that it caused too much smoke for our liking, so we decided to use them when the situation asked for it.
Also, my outfit changed and… to be honest, I ran out of ideas, so I copied the costume right off from a game character 'Graves', with the mask of the Comedian, a.k.a. Edward Blake. Heck, I even reforged and reformed my double barrel shotgun into something that looked exactly like what Graves used. But that wasn't the highlight of my costume. The yellow little badge, was the star of my outfit.
All I needed was the little yellow badge. That was all I needed to show the world who I was. Now in the streets of Hub city, one could easily see the bright yellow smiley face paintings on the wall with the sentences that promised the people of Hub city that a brighter tomorrow was coming.
I didn't plan it, but the media took my name 'Comedian' as a philosophical stance, stating that I was a hero who wanted the people in Hub city to smile from the slowly dropping crime rates and corruption.
…
I sighed instead of laughing.
This… hero gig started off not as a sense of justice, not as an impulse that was made when I saw the darkest side of humanity. It started out as a simple curiosity to see what secrets my dad was keeping from me, then as I went deeper, deeper into the rotten filth of the abyss of drugs and child pornography…
…
Even if this is a bullshit world, there is a certain level of cruelty and insanity a person can unleash into the world. What I've seen, some people certainly crossed that line a long time ago and I was more than happy to push them back and deliver karma.
So here I was, in broad daylight watching a bank robber holding his glock against a crying hostage's temple. Currently, we were at the ceiling, hanging from a single strand of rope.