Progress on pissing off Black Mask

A/N: I have made a severe and continuous mistake 😱 Sorry but NEXT chapter is: The art of jumping. I apologize.

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Batman was not in Gotham City.

Usually if you said that sentence to any criminal they'd probably cream their pants. Batman was fear incarnate for any criminal. Anyone who said they didn't fear the bat, were either lying or were just insane. Barring some competent GCPD member's and the rest of the Batfamily there was few who actually kept this city from being much worse than hell. But Batman was at the top, he was but a man true. But was he ordinary? Hell no.

So yes. When Batman was out of town the criminals could crawl out of their holes and be more reckless. Sure there was Batgirl and Robin, but the two were far more preferable than Batman. Those two would knock you out, Batman would nicely send you to the hospital room with all your bones broken and traumatic brain injuries. So when Batman was away more risk could be taken. Bigger job's could be done, and by extension more profit could be gained.

Or that was how it usually was. But when Batman was away, 'he' had free reign to get as violent as he pleased whilst in Gotham.

"You know? Batman is really so cruel." There in the damp and dense darkness of Gotham City, a few dozen men layed spread about on the dirty pavement. They were unconscious, and were likely to stay that way for a good long while. Arm's and legs twisted in the wrong direction and heavy grotesque bruises on either their faces or bodies.

The figure responsible, and the one who spoke leisurely checked his gun. A modified M1911 pistol, the fire power was usually strong enough to tear through even thick body armour. But while in Gotham he was reduced to using rubber bullets, which was stupid honestly.

He stood at an impressive and intimidating height of 6 feet tall, his muscular and slightly lean physique was not hidden by his outfit. He wore a brown jacket over grey piece of form fitting body armour with a blood red bat emblem at the centre of the chest. Along with this he wore grey gloves and slightly baggy grey cargo pants with gun holsters placed on either side of his hips along with a black utility belt on his waste. Further more there was his heavy black combat boots and finally what stood out most. The blood red helmet that coverd the entirety of his face, the contrasting dense white lenses that acted as his eye's standing out all the more.

"You see when I use normal rounds I put you guy's down quickly." Red Hood spoke, seemingly content on continuing what he was talking about a moment ago. His voice was slightly muffled under the thick helmet, but who was it directed to? A downed man, several tears in his clothing and bruises forming all around his body. Despite his condition, he got of much easier then the other's. Red Hood had to gather information somehow after all.

"Look, I really don-"

*BANG*

"GAAAH!!" A pained scream ripped through the man's throat as a rubber bullet was shot at his right arm. What Red Hood was using was a modified M1911 pistol after all. Even if what just rubber bullets, the fire power behind it was still insane. So the man received a nice violent bone fracture, hence the scream. Said arm was also probably useless right now.

"You see? You could've been dead by now, but no. Rubber bullets and all." He seemed to give an exasperated sigh as he shook his helmeted head. "Now you suffer, broken bones, head trauma and even permanent injuries. Those are okay. But killing nah, we're better than that." His voice was of course heavily laced with sarcasm.

"Okay, okay! I'll talk!" The broken man all but screamed out.

"Good. Now I know Black Mask has been hiring hitmen from all around. The real question is who is he after, and why?"

"He's after someone. The guy stole something and pissed the boss off!" Seemingly not content with getting shot again, the man was quick to spill the beans

"And what was stolen that pissed Black Mask off so much?"

"I-I really don't know man! I'm just a grunt they don't tell me nothing!"

"Is that so..." Red Hood raised his gun and placed the barrel against the man's head. "Well I believe you."

"Wai-!!"

*BANG*

The man's head violently snapped back and to the ground violently under the fire of the rubber round. He definitely had a fractured skull now, but Red Hood could care less. It was easy to tell when someone was lying or not, after all the second a human loses their comfort zone the more simplistic their actions become. They don't lie, they can't lie. Because they know just want kind of a situation they are in, there is just no hope so might as well spill any Intel and avoid punishment, no?

But it had been a while since he was in Gotham, he mostly steered clear of it as whenever he enterd he needed to play by Batman's rules. Meaning killing was a big no-no. The only reason he was in Gotham was because he had been tracking someone down, and they led him to the city. But the city was a buzz, he had not fail to notice all the mercenaries plaguing the city. Deadshot and KGBeast stood out the most, and it was easy to deduce why they were in the city.

They were here for a target. Figuring out who said target was, was for the time being neglected in favour of finding out who put out the hit. That part was comedicaly easy. Just scare some wannabe hitmen and they would sing any tune he'd like. That is how he figured out his old pal Black Mask was behind the new bounty.

He honestly felt like laughing at that. A good while ago he was ready to kill the bastard but he spared him at the behest of Batman, the criminal boss was placed in Black Gate but Red Hood knew that was not going to last for long. Here in Gotham criminals rarely stayed behind bar's. And who would have thought, Black Mask got out and he was already starting trouble.

But he was no fool, Red Hood. Killing Black Mask now would be counterproductive, the man already reclaimed a good chunk of his territory. If he was out of the picture every other crime boss would be gunning for that territory again. A gang war could break out again, and there would be some major casualties.

But for now Black Mask was not a priority, he would focus on gathering some information in the mean time though. But for the time being he still needed to track 'that man' down.

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Chris was like most other Gotham citizens. As in he hated this shit hole of a city to its core but he did not leave. Some may think this an idiotic choice, but Gotham was still a city of opportunity even if it was a shitty place to live in. Like most he wanted more in life, but he was too lazy to work for more. Working unreasonable hour's at some random low wage job just did not sound at all appealing. So he turned to a life of crime, naturally.

It was simple at first, just mug some unlucky schmucks. Though the only thing that was good for was getting chump change. So he found himself working under minor crime bosses. He made decent cash for just being another random grunt, but of course he had to jump from boss to boss as Batman rarely left any crime boss in Gotham City alone for long.

Thus he found himself working under Black Mask. Of course he was just another grunt at first, he did not even get to see the big man himself. But that was fine for the time being, the less important a job he had the less chance there was to run into Batman or his brats. So he did simple job's, protect precious merchandise or go raid rival gangs. Killing was something that took getting used to but he eventually got a feel for it. But eventually his tenacity and knack for crime was noted by the boss himself. And he was entrusted with one of 'those'.

Though he had been working for Black Mask for year's now, there were still some job's more unsavoury than other's. And the one he was busy with now stood out in the top of said list.

Him along with a good chunk of other's who were heavily outfitted were currently located within an old Gotham railway station.

Rows of abandoned train carts sat along the tracks, once bustling with commuters and cargo alike. Their corrugated metal exteriors were faded and weathered, marked with years of neglect and the ravaged by time. Worn wooden benches and creaky doors hint at the faded grandeur of once prominent stations. Weeds and shrubs hhadlong since taken root along the tracks, a testament to the long years of disuse. The no doubt once-bright signage was now faded and illegible, and the platform was littered with debris and rusted fittings.

All of Black Masks men including him were mostly spread out throughout the area,  there was about ten including himself that were stationed near two large train carts. Both of which withheld the 'merchandise'. Said merchandise was suppose to be shipped to Bludhaven tonight, but with Red Hood in town they held off. If Batman was known for not showing mercy then Red Hood was known for showing no moderation, not mercy but moderation.

Chris saw one the men scowl deeply as he heard the incessant whimpering coming from inside of one of the train carts. The man banged his fist loudly against the side or the cart as he yelled out.

"Shut the fuck in there! Or I'm coming in there again to teach you bitches a lesson!" The man practically growled out and that seemed to shut the merchandise up.

"Jesus, Frankie. Ya know how piss the boss gets when we touch and use the merchandise." Another man stepped forward, addressing the other one from earlier.

"C'mon don't play coy. Who the fuck even cares if we use 'em? The boss doesn't even know." Frankie spoke with lecherous sneer. "Besides you had your fun with them earlier too."

"Heh, fine, fine. Ya got me. Just don't slip up infront of the boss. I don't want a bullet in the brain."

Chris shook his head is exasperation. If you could not tell, the 'merchandise was people. Mainly women and children that were abducted some time ago. He really did not like these type's of job's but who was he to refuse any kind of order? When Black Mask orders you to do something you do it. Or you get the courtesy of becoming a human beehive thanks to getting riddled with bullets.

But at the end of the day, a job was a job. And he was getting paid.

"Where the hells those idiots?" Frankie spoke up again after some time. The 'idiots' he was reffering to was the other guards who were suppose to take over the shift of keeping watch on the two carts.

"Fuckers are probably fucking around again."

"Eh, they're probably sleepin' on the job again, buncha lazy fucks."

"Maybe they're high again?"

"Nah, pretty sure last I saw them, their limbs were unusable."

The other's did not seem to take note of it, but he did. The fourth voice was unfamiliar, it definitely did not belong to any of the men stationed here at the railway station. Chris glanced around, but he did not need to do that for long as he immediately spotted him.

A high-collard closed dark jacket with matching pants and dress boots. Along with a head of spiked up white hair, and bandages over his eye's.

"Shi-!!!" His exclamation seemed to rally the attention of his 'comrades' but it was much too late.

The unknown individual appeared before him in a flash, he barely had time to blink and he was already infront of him.

"Hello there." And then pain, it took him awhile to register what that pain was. A punch to the stomach rattled his guts and bones as a mouthful of blood violently erupted from his mouth. The punch sent him reeling back, before he harshly collided and skidded around on the ground.

This time the other men turned their attention to the assailant.

"Who the fuck are you!?"

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EARLIER

Catwoman surprisingly enough came through early. He had thought the information on dear 'ol Black Mask would have taken some time to gather and accumulate. But lo and behold, it just took an hour and then viola. He had free access to Black Masks territories, their locations and what not. What kind of merchandise they held and so on.

"I really have my work cut out for me, huh?" He couldn't help but mutter to himself as he scanned through the information quickly.

But it was nothing he could not handle. So he had promptly went to work, he atleast wanted to make progress before the job tomorrow. And so it began. Black Mask had property all around Gotham City, though obviously it was not legally owned by him. It was of course under another name, but that was only for the sake of his secrecy.

It did not matter though. As Gojo had engaged ass kicking mode.

He cleared a good chunk of the guarded territories, and deliberately stood infront of the cameras for Black Mask. Sure he'd attract vigilante attention but he didn't really care at the moment. Most places were warehouses located all around the city, they were mostly used to house narcotics or firearms. No doubt to sell the later. It was easy enough to clear out of course, though there was only one notable thing that caught his attention as he cleared out the various area's.

Standing atop a tall building, Gojo leisurely pulled something out of his pocket. It was a lean black box container, opening it revealed a syringe with a bright green almost radiating serum being withheld in the barrel. He had found it on one of Black Masks men whilst he was robbing them of their belongings. With his eye's it was easy to see that it contained a number of mashed up chemical compounds. Though he did not recognize some of them.

"Titan serum maybe?" Gojo shurgged. If it was then he had no clue as to why Black Masks men possessed one but he didn't really care. "One more." He mutterd as he closed the container before shoving it back into his pocket.

He had made some pretty good progress, he had atleast put a stop to several dozen properties owned by Black Mask. Though this last one was a bit unique. As in it was not a warehouse, instead it was some long abandoned railway station. And the information he got from Catwoman didn't specify in what was kept there. Though he suppose he would find out once he got there.

Clasping his hands together he created the negative distance in space that should never exist. His destination forcibly filled in the void, collapsing the distance between the two. And then his view changed as he disappeared and reappeared somewhere else in an instance, levitating high in the air he overlooked the old railway station beneath him. He scanned everything.

"Thirty, huh? What could they be guarding that's so important?" He wondered before shrugging it off. He was guessing that those ten near those two train carts were guarding whatever merchandise there was. "Guess I'll take out the other twenty first." A grin found its way onto his face as he cracked his knuckles.