Rule III

There was much more cash than 20,000$ in the crate, Jack found out the next day after sitting down to count his loot.

67,475$

It took him a whole hour to make the count but once he did, the reality of it all began to settle down in his mind.

He was now in possession of more money than he knew what to do with. A problem the young rogue was now forced to confront. And that was without even including in the equation the weapons, ammunition, and military equipment he found.

Initially, after finding his current hideout and coming into possession of a bunch of firearms and grenades that were stashed in a locker, Jack was kind of stumped over what to do with this acquisition. Because ultimately, he didn't use guns or any kinds of firearms – never had. They were too needlessly lethal for his taste. Never mind the fact that his familiarity with guns began and ended at: 'release the safety lock, aim where you want to shoot, and pull the trigger'.

So the decision to leave behind the guns and sit on them for the time being wasn't a hard one for him to make.

At least, the smoke grenades, tear gas and EMP grenades were something that, while they haven't seen any use as of yet, he was taking with him every time he went out in costume.

They were that useful, for obvious reasons.

Jack was content with this arrangement.

Well… until the numbers of guns, ammo, grenades and military gear in his possession basically quadrupled overnight.

Now he was faced with the uncomfortable decision of what to do with them…

After giving it some thought, he decided in the end, to put the decision of what to do with the weapons on hold for now. Until he'd come up with a suitably good idea for his tastes on what to do with all these guns, he'd put this problem in the back of his mind.

"Alright, procrastination it is," Jack sighed, standing up to leave. "The weapons aren't going anywhere anyway. Might as well sit on them for the time being until something pops up or I get a flash of genius or something. No need to press myself and immediately decide on what to do with them."

Though, he has some ideas about what to do with all that money. Obviously, a part of it will be set aside to pay for his new ID and a good apartment – lease and furnishing – but the great part, he decided, would be used to… either further his agenda – whatever it would be – or put it into immediate use.

Jack did have a problem of homeless orphans, street urchins – 'who should be spending their time at school instead of begging in the streets,' – he wanted to solve but was torn about how to go about it, having no idea on what to do other than make sure they weren't taken advantage of.

While he wouldn't be able to solve everything with the money… he might be able to put things into motion to improve this situation.

Satisfied with dumping the firearms problem in the laps of another future him to solve, Jack climbed out of his hideout, heading outside to roam the city.

/-/

Jack considered himself to be a social creature by nature. Someone who craved social interactions and human contact over spending his time alone while watching TV shows or animes. He could do that too, but he preferred to not do this on his lonesome when the possibility of having some company while doing just that was up there.

So, it wasn't a surprise that he decided to spend the little free time he had before work going to talk with someone.

On that thought, Jack especially remembered the particularly big-chested woman who manned the reception desk at that Job Agency in Burnley he went to in order to find his current job.

His list of friends and contacts being what it was, he figured that it wouldn't be bad to make an idle visit to her but not before going over to some restaurant to order something for lunch. It would be only polite and the least he could do considering that he was planning to drop unannounced and not for work-related reasons.

He did work in restoration now and thus, has one place where he could order some takeout for a good price.

Heading for a telephone booth, Jack stepped into it and quickly dialed Lorenzo's personal number.

The phone only rang two times before it was picked up.

"Hello, who is this? If this is for a special order, know that we aren't open yet and this would be for early afternoon at best–"

"Yo boss, this is your boy, Rule," Jack cheerfully interrupted. "Are you cooking right now? Cauz I'm in need of a pizza, 15", chicken with onion, tomatoes and extra cheese."

He knew from the Internet and memes on social media that black people love their fried chicken. So surely, they would love having some in their pizzas too, right?

Except for the sound of an exasperated sigh, there was a short silence on the other end of the line before Lorenzo replied with, "... I'm at the pizzeria, I can whip you out that order but it's going to cost you." He warned.

"Noice, you're the best, boss!" Jack cheerfully praised, "Just put it on my tab."

"What fucking tab…" He heard the older man mutter under his breath. "I will. Come pick it up in thirty minutes."

"Sur–" Before Jack could finish his sentence, Lorenzo hung up, making him chuckle.

/-/

As agreed, 30 minutes later, Jack stopped by the pizzeria to fetch his order.

When he was in range and made sure that nobody was looking, he swapped the pizza for a small piece of paper – a notice he wrote on the way – informing Lorenzo that he already stopped by to take the pizza and went on his way.

With his order now in hand, he headed to the job agency.

Burnley Gotham Job Agency

Sponsored by the Wayne Foundation

Pushing open the door with his shoulder, Jack stepped inside the small one-storey building.

Once again, he noted the lack of customers in the place. It was currently a little before noon unlike the last time he was there – when it was late afternoon – so the fact that the place was still as empty as the last time, didn't say good things about the state of the job agency.

It was official, Bruce Wayne was probably losing money funding this thing as obviously, people weren't making use of the service in place. Unless, the whole gig was some kind of tax exemption thing, something he couldn't write off as far as billionaires were concerned.

The same, bored-looking, gun-carrying, black security guard was standing at the threshold. While sitting in the center of the room, was the same big-chested employee from last time, his target of the day.

'Perfect.'

The woman wasn't slumped over her desk this time, instead, she was slightly leaning back on her seat with an expression that screamed: 'bruh' plastered all over her face.

Jack strode forward, making the woman tear her eyes away from her phone to look at his all-smiling face. She squinted her eyes at him before slowly blinking in realization, evidently recognizing him.

"Hi! How are you doing since last time? Good, I hope!" Jack chirped, not letting her the time to honestly answer his rhetorical question. With people like her, he quickly found out that asking a courtesy question like this was asking for a pessimistic answer like: "Terrible. Been doing shit." – a total mood killer.

The woman made a dubious expression and gave him a queer look, seemingly put out by his cheerful demeanor and sunny disposition – probably not used to seeing a smiling, happy person stride into this place. Or interacting with one in her day-to-day life.

"Oh. It's you again," she said, voice perfectly flat and dispassionate. In answer, Jack beamed harder at her. Behind them, he heard the security guard cackle. "What do you want, this time?"

"I was on the way to work when I passed by the place and thought about you. So I decided to stop by to thank you for your help last time," Jack replied, still smiling but wilfully. "You've been a great help last time I was here, pointing me in the right direction. I've been told that I'm kinda impressionable, so if not for your intervention that day, I'd be just another random mugger in the city or another criminal working for a gang, no doubt. And so… I've returned here bearing food as a totem of thanks!" He told her, putting the pizza box on her desk along with two cans of soda.

The clerk, Jennifer from her tag, stared at him with not-a-small amount of wonder and befuddlement.

"You gotta be shitting me right?" She asked before proceeding to answer her own question anyway, "Yeah. You're shitting me because ain't no way you're serious. I remember only giving you a goddamn paper sheet with a list of contacts before sending you on your way."

"Nope!" Jack chirped, popping the p. "I'm dead serious, Jenn. Can I call you Jenn? Jennifer is a mouthful to say."

"Call me Ma'am."

"You look too young to be over 30," he quipped instead.

"Because I'm not." Jennifer deadpanned, "And you looked wayyy too young to be talking casually with me like we're some old friends 'n shit. You don't even look like you graduated from high school."

"That's the baby face, it does give that kind of impression." He sighed dramatically, shrugging in a 'what can you do?' manner. "Alright, Jennifer." Jack settled for calling her by her name, making her pursue her pouty lips in displeasure. "Like I was saying, I'm serious. When I first came here, I was really lost–"

"You didn't look lost. You waltzed into the agency like you own the damn place."

"—AND disoriented." He continued, ignoring her interruption. "I was lost and disoriented, knew nothing of the city, was new in town, was naive and had no repairs." He listed, "One of the worst combinations possible, I've come to realize. You taking the time out of your day to listen to my problems, guide, counsel and show me what my options were? It was a big deal. Thanks to the job you recommended to me, I've been able to find gainful employment. A legal job where my skills are valued and I'm respected. In this current unstable climate? Around this part of town? It was a godsend."

Jennifer blankly stared at him.

"And for that, I'll be eternally grateful. It might have been a small gesture to you, but for me, it wasn't. It meant everything! The least I can do is to buy you some food to show my gratitude." Jack smiled, making a show of gesturing to the pizza and drinks on the desk.

Jennifer stared at him.

"I literally," she began, slowly enunciating each word. "JUST. Gave. YoU. A. Sheet. Of. Paper."

"Like I said, it meant the world to me." Jack replied, smiling innocently at her.

The security guard snorted out loud while Jennifer kept staring at him with an exacerbated expression on her face.

"Whatever, you know what? I don't give a fuck. Doesn't matter if you gon take the piss with me, you can take all the goddamn piss for all I care. I won't say no to free food." Jennifer huffed, her words betraying her frustration even as she rolled her eyes and opened the pizza box to help herself to a slice of pizza.

"Don't be shy or modest, Jennifer. You went above and beyond what was required from your job! So help yourself." Jack beamed at her while ignoring the middle finger directed his way.

Turning to the other occupant of the room, he called out. "Hey, I bought the pizza for you too bro. It's 15 inches, she won't finish it alone. Come get your part."

The security guard smiled indulgently at him before making his way to the desk.

"You don't know that. She can eat her weight in food." The other man good-naturedly said. The comment earned him a middle finger from the woman in question. "Thanks kid, I appreciate it. Never got offered food on the job by people, even less previous customers." The security guard thanked him, taking a slice of pizza and gulfing it down.

"You're welcome!" Jack enthused, "Oh, oh! Does that mean I get that n-word pass with you?"

Not like he hadn't been using it before. He was using that pass from his grandpa but at this point, it was already expired. The man, bless his soul, had been dead since Jack was in his high school senior years.

Jennifer choked on her soda mild gulp while the security guard laughed out loud.

"You're a riot, kid. You know what? Sure, why not?" He grinned. "You brought me free food, and from Lorenzo to boot, that warrants a n-pass in my opinion."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, waitwaitwait! The pizza's from Lorenzo's?" Jennifer interjected, choosing to ignore the current by play to ask him.

"Yes, it is. Ain't ya saw the logo?" Her co-worker replied with a question of his own before Jack could, "You really went straight for that pizza, pfff."

"How? He's supposed to be closed now."

Jack hadn't thought they might question him about this. Thankfully, he was a smooth liar. "I know a guy, some gangbanger, who knows a guy, who works with a guy, who is a cousin of that gang leader in crime alley who's tight with the Delivery guy." Jack explained. "Got invited to a party and went home with a pizza."

"Huh." Was Jennifer's unintelligent comment. While the security guard was giving him contemplative looks. "What kind of job you said you got already…?"

"Why? Curious?" Jack teased, leaning forward "Looking for a more interesting job, huh? Well, we do have an opening but fair warning, between you and me, my job kind of… blows."

She groaned out loud and he and the security guard shared a belly laugh at the cringe joke.

'Being cringe always does successfully divert people's attention,' Jack thought, taking a slice of pizza for himself even as he absently avoided a wrist slap from Jennifer.

The rest of noon was spent chatting with Jennifer and Paul – which was the security guard's name – and being an overly cheery, obnoxious smartass with Jennifer while teasing her from time to time. The woman got a bite, Jack could readily admit without trouble. Because she wasn't taking any 'lip' from him as she put it and gave as much as he ditched.

By the end of the conversation and impromptu lunch, he was on good terms with Paul and Jennifer too. He felt like, despite her cranky exterior, he was… not exactly making her swoon per se but he was definitely intriguing her by being a mix of intentionally mysterious and over-the-top cheerful with a dash of exaggerated naiveness, while simultaneously being shameless and daring on some occasions.

As was expected from an archetypical Chinese protagonist. Even though he was only half Chinese and never set foot in his mother's country before – shamelessness was in his veins. It couldn't be diluted.

Well, at least he didn't inherit any melomaniac or trigger happy genocidal tendencies from the Chinese protagonist template.

Jack counted it as a plus.

"Well, gotta prepare for work, folks. I'll see you around." Jack told them, heading for the exit. "Thank you for your help once again, Jennifer. Oh, and you too I guess, Paul."

Paul chuckled and flashed him a smirk.

"Wait, before you go, throw this in the trash on your way out, will you?" Jennifer requested, stopping him before he could leave. She was waving around a disposable handkerchief.

"Sure," he readily accepted, taking the handkerchief from her hands before stepping outside.

Outside, the sky was shining brightly with no clouds obscuring the sun as was usual in Gotham.

Jack took to the sidewalk in the direction of his hideout, needing to change out of his civilian clothes before going to work.

When he was about to get rid of the disposable handkerchief that Jennifer had tasked him to throw out, Jack noticed a series of numbers written on the handkerchief in bright cherry red color.

He couldn't help but smirk.

'Ah! So, she did find me charming.' He knew that his word game and pun about Emerson's big titties hadn't left her as indifferent and annoyed as she would have him believed.

Everything was in the delivery and timing.