Date

The interesting news was not limited to patent information alone.

While one hero was doing all sorts of stuff, like self-development, saving Chinese blacks and men in latex, as well as fighting with their pirate copies, Redhead brainstormed and realized that given the night activities on her own two games she can not pull, and for one to allocate free time she did not always manage. So Mousey hired two of her college friends who knew programming and design.

Babs had the keys to the rented office, I gave her a decent amount of money, and the patent for one of the mechanics was already officially registered, so there were no obstacles to attracting outside developers. As it turned out, the redhead turned to her friends just the day after my request, when after a sleepless night filled with programming, came to study with a buzzing head. In less than three weeks, three people have managed to bring "Three-in-a-row" to mind, writing two hundred levels, and now only tests were left to fix minor rough edges and catch bugs.

"Here, this can already be considered a beta version," the satisfied girl launched the prepared presentation and emulator on her laptop.

The game has a simple name: "Cristalia" and gameplay reminded me a lot of the legendary game "Candy Crash". Huh, it could hardly be otherwise, considering that eighty percent of the ideas, including mechanics and donation, were taken from it. From the new was an unusual colorful design with a lot of visual effects, as well as peculiar bosses, which must be fought every twenty levels, knocking out crystals of a certain color. Basically, nothing new or revolutionary, but it brings a little variety to the gameplay.

Naturally, if there are bosses, then there is also a backstory, but here no one began to make a lot of wisecracks, limiting himself to the standard scenario about a knight rescuing a princess from the clutches of a mighty black dragon named Nocard.

"We just haven't decided yet what the final battle should be like," Mousey said, showing the concept art. - It should be something epic, but except for the use of several phases and a little "cheating", when the boss can completely rebuild the field with crystals, removing successful combinations, nothing comes to mind.

"You know, don't add it at all for now," a good idea popped into my bright head. - Two hundred levels is quite low for a game like this, but a thousand sounds much more weighty.

The girl frowned.

"If we create a thousand levels, it will be out for a very long time. Even these two hundred guys could do it only by a miracle, using your developments and working almost without rest.

"Huh, you don't understand," I soothingly patted the redhead on the shoulder. - The game will be released in the near future, just a little PR-company, and new levels will be additional content, released, let's say, once a month. We don't need to be like "Strongman", who every six months clap a new part, constantly adding minor mechanics and small graphical improvements. We will have one game, but it will be able to expand to infinity, because it doesn't require a powerful engine. If desired, a level editor can be added so that users can share their creativity with friends.

"Sounds promising," Mousey replied thoughtfully, giving her seat at the laptop to Harley, who was already exhausted from trying out the game.

My faithful companion liked the beta version of Cristalia very much, and she really got stuck in it, not allowing Barbara to show off the next project properly. I had to be satisfied with a verbal report that the process does not stand still, and now the team is working on the first levels and on the design of towers, well, and the local Lore with the plot invented to be interesting.

That was the end of the good news, and Mousey "delighted" us with the information that her father had started digging for Harleen Quinzel in his spare time.

It's all about yesterday's appearance of my favorite at two places at the same time: near the oceanarium and near Maroni's restaurant. And while no one is surprised by several Jokers, even when one of them acts like a hero, Harley Quinn can't boast of such immunity. Yeah, this really, really sucks, and for now I have no options but to reduce activity and lay low for a while.

Seeing that the blond cutie was in no hurry to part with the new game, I decided not to put the matter off and, leaving the two beauties in the library, went to Alan, to discuss the issue of patents on superhero images.

The lawyer immediately bummed me out with the fact that this has been practiced for a long time, but not with respect to the heroes of the first echelon. And to acquire the rights to the image or symbol of some third-rate supercriminal, not to mention a more dangerous and famous supervillain with a worldwide reputation, will not even be a complete idiot, because he will immediately become a priority target and will soon find under the toilet seat of a bunch of grenades. Precedents have already happened and became a kind of chip, like the severed head of a horse in the mafia.

The most curious thing is that there are no obstacles to registering the same Superman mark on himself, except for the people's anger, and maybe the anger of the Kryptonian himself. But even so, according to Dershowitz, only a really badass person would do such a thing. At that point, my lips parted in a grim smile, causing the man to falter.

Ha ha ha, basically, I really have nothing to fear!

The remnants of reputation will cool the hotheads, the sunny boy himself will not do anything to me, as he remained a good-natured country boy from a small town with a strange name, in addition, the proceeds will go to a good cause, which, quite possibly, will bring reputation points.

"Sometimes I forget who I'm dealing with," the man complained with a sigh, seeing my eyes burning with enthusiasm.

"Oh, don't worry about it," I said. - I'm sure nothing bad will happen.

"Uh, you know what," Alan said seriously. - See if you can get Bruce Wayne to do it. In case of trouble, Wayne Industries will definitely be able to take the hit, and you'll be only tangentially affected.

"That's not a bad idea," I leaned back in my comfortable chair, thinking about how to get the patents to Bats. - Oh, before I forget, do you know any PR people? My game is almost ready, and it needs publicity.

My question caused Dershowitz to seriously strain his memory. After a long pause and digging in his notebook, the man gave me two contacts, telling me that these people were among the best in the business. That was the end of the patent discussion, and the lawyer began showing off the collected materials on the Victor Fries case that he hadn't stopped working on all this time. I was not aware of it, but my interlocutor had even visited the scientist in Arkham once, and had managed to talk to him and form his personal opinion.

What a pleasure to deal with business people who know their jobs.

The discussion of Victor's fate was not long, and ended with the fact that first I would have to persuade the doctor to leave his wife for a while: like the other clown, he would have to spend a couple of days behind bars after being discharged from Arkham Asylum. Yeah, the idea of getting Dr. Freeze on my side was getting dumber and more problematic by the day, but it was too soon to give up.

When I left Alan, I drove to the Clock Tower and stayed there for almost an hour, secretly placing the tracking equipment, for which I had to change into a repairman's suit. It was good that my cheeks had healed a bit and I could put makeup on them to hide the scars. It's bad without magic, but it was my own fault for deciding to intensify when I was almost unconscious from the pain in the past. But it didn't seem to be so bad now, as the pain from the crowbar in my stomach almost stopped bothering me.

After hooking up the cameras and making sure everything was working, I set about creating a cozy little nest on the roof of the pub, where I had a wonderful view of the gloomy Clock Tower. Two sack chairs, a low table, a wind awning, a propane fryer, a snack and some good alcohol. It was a bit of a hassle to deliver all this stuff discreetly because of the temporary problems with magic, but I had a clear goal, the right knowledge, and a needle in one place, so I didn't take the easy way out, and instead of just relaxing in the pub, I decided to do everything in a more original way.

Frankly, I seriously wonder about people who completely ignore the maintenance staff. So what if someone uses a cart to carry a bunch of stuff up to the roof. Since he's wearing a local uniform and wasn't detained by security at the entrance, he has the right to do so. But few people think that this unsuspecting man could have secretly entered the building by opening a window on the second floor, expropriated clothes from the locker of one of the employees, and even hacked the local security systems just in case, before paying some beggar to make a drunken debauch at the entrance, distracting the guards. What do I want from a regular halfway house hotel, though? It's not Fort Knox, and you don't have to report every oddity and be on guard all the time.

I glanced at the screen of my smartphone, showing a man in rags puking gleefully in the lobby, surrounded by five local security guards. Maybe I should charge him another hundred on the way back for the performance. No, Jay, you'd better take pity on his liver, or it won't be able to take this kind of happiness.

So, everything is ready, and there's still an hour and a half before your beloved comes home. We should spend it doing something useful. How about some magic? No, not the kind that one overactive idiot temporarily lost due to his own stupidity, but rune magic. Huh, though it's all rune in a sense, but in this case it's about drawing magical symbols on any suitable surface with the help of magic paints.

It is decided, that's what I will do, and at the same time I will test the created gel in the field.

I whistled a happy tune and began to draw the runes of privacy. The name was suggestive, but the privacy granted by magic was relative. It merely muffles sounds unilaterally, and imposes a slight averted eye. And when I say light, it is exactly what I mean: any person who comes closer than five meters, will safely see everything inside the circle. Further than ten meters he may not notice anything, provided that he is relaxed, or his attention will be focused on something else, such as a smartphone. However, this is only true for ordinary people, while most metas have enhanced senses, and for them the spell even in a relaxed state is unlikely to be a serious obstacle.

I regretted that I hadn't paid much attention to magic practice, having limited myself to the school of illusion and a little bit of the most popular schools, setting the bar at a couple of my reserves. Since then, thanks to the constant use of magic, my seventh beginning has grown quite a bit, and I can cast the same trio of fireballs without too much strain.

Maybe Zee'll be a little nicer after the gift. I should try her in two or three days... Not without Harley, I don't want to put her at risk of a humiliating curse.

Okay, back to the sheep.

I opened the second large syringe with a narrow spout and then carefully squeezed out its contents, drawing neat lines. The thick greenish gel lay perfectly on the roof and quickly solidified in the form of bizarre shapes when it came into contact with the air. It was the twenty-first century, after all, and it was no good for decent magicians to use vulgar salt trails... Ha-ha-ha, unless it was some kind of party with alcohol, drugs, and succubi.

The thing Harley and I created was incredibly cool and useful. Eh, at least don't fool yourself by taking credit for someone else's glory. My faithful assistant single-handedly created the gel under my wise guidance. Now, that sounds much better.

There are only four ingredients in the composition of my charm, namely elastic hydrogel, elastomer and magical powder made of diamond dust charged with natural mana and salt.

It would seem, why reinvent the wheel, if there are simpler and cheaper solutions? The answer is elementary: gel has a number of undeniable advantages. Firstly, after solidification on its surface is formed hydrophobic film that repels water, and therefore no need to make any more wisecracks with the protection of runes from moisture. Secondly, in contact with air, it becomes relatively strong, so even on purpose it is difficult to damage the paths. Third, included in the composition of diamond dust, left after unsuccessful attempts to charge the dryad gems, had a very decent conductivity and almost did not lose its energy over time, unlike the same salt, which in this case acted as a binder, adding volume. Fourth, despite its durability, the composition was vulnerable to organic acids: a couple of drops of acetone, and a chain reaction starts, destroying intermolecular bonds, from which the drawing begins to evaporate quickly, leaving only diamond dust and salt, which can be blown away by a light gust of wind.

In short, the created substance was ideal for drawing something without fear of accidental deformation of the drawing, and when it was no longer needed, it could be easily erased, leaving almost no trace.

Yeah... I finished that quickly.

I looked thoughtfully at the green rune circle, then looked at the clock, which showed it was exactly eight o'clock in the evening. I'd written my exact coordinates in the text message, and I'd written my clothes, too, which meant it was time to meditate. The more so, I was clearly making progress, considering that the only thing left from the horrible wounds were the horrible scars.

Harley arrived a little early, so there was nothing to stop us from starting our date a little earlier. Elle, meat appetizer simmering on the grill, a beautiful girl across the table who was not against junk food at all, but very much in favor of it, casual conversation about everything in the world, a cute girl's enthusiasm for a new game. What can I say? Perfect.

~Pip~

My smartphone beeped, causing Sailor to jump up. A second, and we were standing at the parapet, looking up at the Clock Tower, with two figures standing on the roof. A man in bat cosplay and a woman in a tight latex costume with cat ears on the top of her head.

I was about to start the broadcast, wanting to eavesdrop on the conversation, but it looked like Cat was more upset than I thought. Instead of talking, Bats had to dodge a whip flying at his face. I'm glad I didn't mess with that lunatic, sweet Harley is a hundred times better!

The fight was gaining momentum, the Dark Knight went completely on the defensive, allowing the charming and deadly beauty to vent all her anger. And this approach bore fruit. During the next attack Selina made too deep lunge, almost falling off the edge of the roof, and the hero had to gently hold her by the waist. The fight came to a standstill. The two sentients did not seek to disturb the delicate balance. The thief's hands went up, but instead of another attack, she suddenly hugged her opponent, saying something.

"Weeeee *-*," Harley looked at the couple with eyes full of delight.

Bats and Cat pulled away a little and after a second they kissed each other hotly. Heh-heh-heh, Alfred will be glad, now, as long as Mouse doesn't ruin everything, because he can.

"Yay!!!" The blonde girl clutched me in her arms in joy.

The kissing couple momentarily pulled away from each other, looking intently in our direction.

"Hide!" I dragged my faithful assistant over the parapet.

"Do you think we've been spotted?

"We'll check it out," I finally answered, turning on my smartphone. - Hmm, Bats's cameras are out of order," I switched the images, but there was interference everywhere.

"Not the Bats' cameras?" Harley pressed herself tighter against me, staring at the screen.

"The cameras from Martha's house," I pecked the girl on the cheek, starting the broadcast.

"Do you know these perverts?" Selina kept looking in our direction.

"Yeah, worked together a couple times. Don't be fooled by their behavior. They're a lot more dangerous than they look.

"I realized it when Knight used one hand to send a huge boogeyman flying into the wall. Can we go someplace more private?" The girl whispered, clawing at the bat symbol on the superhero's mighty chest.

"You don't have to go far," the man made a couple of taps on the cuff, and a part of the tiles split apart, revealing a secret entrance.

"Oh, that's clever.

"Ladies first," a slight smile appeared on the superhero's lips for a moment, and I had to wipe my eyes, unable to believe what had happened.

Cat disappeared inside, followed by Grim Mouse, and then the hatch closed, leaving no hint that anyone had been on the roof a second ago.