Chapter 5. Gotham - Part 2

I was overwhelmed by a mix of excitement, curiosity, and... fear. Yes, for the first time, I felt fear in the presence of an ordinary human being. These characteristics, abilities, and peculiarities just couldn't leave anyone indifferent. The Nazis were humans. The organization Amanda Waller worked for mostly consisted of regular people, but this... this was hard to label as human. Despite this, I was still walking toward him to "introduce myself." Could I have gone so crazy that I wanted to draw the attention of someone who "Executes the Will of Chaos"?

It's true what they say, in all horror movies, it's not the killer's fault – it's the dumb victims of the movie, who lack even the most basic sense of self-preservation and have no concept of survival.

His gaze scanned the people present, but the people around didn't want to be in his sights. Nobody did. Except me. And then he stopped at me, at the one who was persistently and slowly approaching him. The brim of his hat concealed the upper half of his face, and only my thin, crooked smile anticipated the future "masquerade." I think it's always worth starting with something... unexpected!

I took off my hat and, with slightly open eyes, bowed.

"Hello! My name is Alex Tye. Keeper. I'm a big fan of yours!"

"Heh heh heh, I have many fans, young man," he said, as if a kind father, ruffling my head, and in the tones of his voice, I detected intrigue. "So young, yet with such beautiful eyes. Life... am I right?"

"It feels like someone just read me like a book in a matter of seconds," I admitted. "You're like a cat poking its nose into grown-up affairs and seeking adventures on its own. Fearless and fiery eyes that shine so bright..."

"Actually, I've killed before, so I'm not really a 'boy' anymore!"

"Killing doesn't make you an adult," he shrugged, slowly circling me and examining me as if I were an exhibit. "After all, a newborn baby can accidentally kill its mother at birth, and thus become a 'killer.' 'A terrible twist of fate,' they'd call it. And first of all, adults don't interrupt their elders, which again proves your youth. You know that saying? Curiosity killed the cat."

"Yes, but I'm a 'special' cat."

"Every cat wishes to believe that. Oh, there's one like that, what's her name...? Even 'Bats' used to chase after her like a cat after a mouse! Hmph! Argh! Forgot!" He comically flapped his hands and snarled in frustration. "Let's test your 'specialty'! — From an inner pocket, he pulled out a revolver with a rather long barrel and, without any hesitation, pointed it at my head and pulled the trigger. A thin metallic rod with an innocuous flag bearing the drawing 'BAAAM!!!' instantly shot out of the gun's muzzle. I didn't even blink. Boldness or foolishness...? No, judging by your eyes, you were confident. Quite interesting," the Joker remarked and pulled the trigger again, and this time I caught the projectile right next to my eye, which swiftly flew out of his pistol. Twisting the steel rod between my fingers, I effortlessly plunged it into the wooden wall.

"You're good at impressing. It seems madness makes me predictable," he said with a terribly bored tone in his voice and threw the gun aside.

"Okay! I'll play with you some other time, Alex. Maybe some other time," he continued, comfortably settling into a wooden chair that the seated criminal had "kindly" vacated, and putting his feet on the table. "Encounters like this usually imply a pretty solid reason for a gathering. After all, you're the one who brought us all together... 'Black Mask.' Wouldn't you like to explain to us, busy people, why?"

"I'm tired of one mouse constantly ruining my deals, so I decided to take extreme measures. I'll give One Billion to anyone who can bring me Batman's head," he declared.

The Joker burst into laughter. Horribly, insanely, and unbearable to the ordinary ear.

"So much time has passed, and none of you have understood that you can't just grab Bats with a mob. Trust me and my experience. Everyone here won't be able to do anything to him!"

"And what do you suggest, clown?!"

"I suggest letting me take the reins of this ragtag group! I don't care about the money. You should understand that perfectly."

"I'll never let some psycho lead my guys!" Penguin exploded with outrage instantly.

"Haha, who do you think you are, 'Penguin'? I'm talking about Black Mask's men and... Harvey. You don't mind helping, do you? You want to finally get rid of Batman, right?"

"Batman...! Yes! He has to die! Because of him, I...!"

He managed to win Harvey over so quickly. Even though he told me himself that he wanted to shoot me because I looked like him.

"Yes-yes-yes, old scars, I know. So what...? Agree while I'm still feeling generous."

Judging by the way Black Mask stared at him for a long time, he clearly had no intention of giving him the 'reins.' But given his reputation and experience in battling Batman, he didn't really have a good candidate for the leader of this gang of thugs and dimwits, who, apart from the motivation of a huge sum of money, wouldn't have much sense in their heads.

"Alright," he finally uttered a single word, and he, jumping up abruptly, headed for his desk.

"Then let's not waste any more time! This night will be especially long!"

The Joker's plan was simple: exhaust Batman to make it easier to strike from behind. Several groups of armed thugs with Thompson submachine guns would take over several buildings and set explosives. Batman would have no choice but to rush into these buildings. He had relayed the bomb locations to our main hero through an open radio frequency. The final destination was a place simply referred to as Arkham Asylum. It was a facility that helped the mentally unstable and those suffering from psychological disorders, and it had become almost a second home to the Joker. Too often, his crimes – murders, violence, robberies, and the like – led to his being sent not to prison, but to this asylum. Every time, he was declared mentally unstable and insane.

It was here that the Joker had freed his plaything, Harley Quinn. Why did the Joker divide everyone into specific locations? It was likely because of his inability to work as a team due to their stupidity and the likelihood that they would hinder each other more than help. The second reason was probably to get rid of excess baggage, ensuring that no one else but him and Batman would interfere.

"Mr. J! Who's this cute little boy?! Can I keep him?" Before I could even react, the blonde with two braids, who had come out of her cell, squeezed me in her embrace.

"No, Harley. How many times do I have to tell you not to take things without my permission?"

So now I'm a "thing," huh?

"In the end, this boy volunteered to participate in this performance as an observer. I'm just curious to see what role he'll assign himself in the final act."

"Phew! Alright, if you say so, Puddin'."

There weren't many of us. The remaining group consisted of the Joker, Harvey Dent, Harley, his twenty-four clown henchmen, Black Mask, and a few dozen men in black suits. When I asked the simple question of why Black Mask didn't hire professionals for such a complex task, like mercenaries such as Deadstroke or Deadshot, for some inexplicable reason, these mercenaries didn't respond or couldn't just attend his event.

Studying and simply observing the Joker's actions, I couldn't shake the feeling that this... "man," not insane, though. Well, not quite. Yes, he was unusual, abnormal, but calling him a definite psycho or lunatic would be too loud of a word. Rather, it felt like he had his own concept of the world, and he just didn't care about other people's concepts of the world. This condition could be termed a severe form of post-traumatic stress disorder. I couldn't see any hint that he didn't like what he was doing.

The main question that had been bothering me even before I met him was the strange crossed-out name in his character statistics. Essentially, I found the only clue as to who the Joker originally was. Asking Him about it would be equivalent to suicide and would attract a lot of undue attention to myself. I just couldn't predict his reaction. Maybe I could use this information in the future. After all, no one, not even Batman, knows who the Joker really is.

So, where did we leave off? Ah, yes, that we were in the asylum. We monitored Batman's progress through a laptop that transmitted the image from one person in each group. The Joker intentionally set the explosives in such a way that he alone would never be able to save everyone. However, he either knew or already suspected that Batman didn't always work alone. Batgirl appeared on Penguin's guy's camera. Her long red hair assured me that it was most likely Barbara Gordon, but who exactly the current Robin was—I had no idea. And he seemed to be slightly older than me, leaping into bullets without a second thought or doubt. I wonder how Batman managed to teach an ordinary person to dodge bullets?

However, if you looked closely, the boy and the girl were fast, precise, and always disappeared into cover after their appearance to attack from a different angle. Close contact looked more like a dance, in the chaos of which the criminals even managed to accidentally shoot each other. There were some particularly stupid criminals who, in this way, sent their partners to the afterlife, despite our incredible trio only coming away with a couple of bruises, scrapes, and bloodshot eyes. In short, Heroes - 3, Villains - 0.

The corridor in the asylum was a spacious place where I calmly observed how our "friendly company" gathered in the reception area. I sat calmly on Harley Quinn's lap, and together with her beloved "Puddin," I watched the quite expected and terrible result of their failed plan through a laptop. To alleviate my boredom and the gloomy atmosphere, I took a couple of cupcakes from my inventory.

"Wow! What else can you do?!" Harley exclaimed.

Manipulating me to make me spill the truth isn't that easy, Harley.

"Only, let's keep this our little secret, okay?" I asked with childlike straightforwardness and naivety, holding out my pinky finger for a promise. Of course, my whisper wasn't exactly quiet enough to turn it into a real secret. Instead, we were just fooling around and not taking the situation too seriously. Just the ordinary daily life of abnormal people.

"I'm a Wizard!" I proudly puffed up my chest and raised my nose towards the ceiling. Then, I magically made a military knife appear in my right hand. "Well... a 'beginner' Wizard. I'm still learning, but I'll achieve great success in the future!"

"That's awesome! Can you teach me too?! What else can you do?! Can you...?"

"Sorry, but I can't say. I gave my word not to tell anyone the secrets of our school."

"So, you're from Hogwarts?! Like that Harry 'Stopper'... 'Shoker'? Uh... anyway! Like that boy from that cool movie, right?"

I would have believed your foolishness and straightforwardness if I didn't see your character status with the skill "Manipulation" and the profession "Psychologist." So, you won't get the truth from me, I'm afraid.

"Something like that."

"Cool!"

Black Mask was nervous and on edge. He wasn't happy with the direction their plan was taking, and he didn't like that they had become the sole target of the city's defenders. Just at the moment when Batman took a microphone headset from one of the criminals' ears, he calmly said one phrase in a deep bass voice.

"I'm coming, Joker..."

Black Mask turned to Joker and aimed his Desert Eagle right at Joker's head, who was just smiling. Harley Quinn immediately jumped up and pulled out a pistol from behind her back. The rest of the people in this act followed suit, pointing their weapons at each other, resembling a scene from a Western movie.

"Calm down. It's too late to back down now. We know he's exhausted and walking straight into our trap, so act with dignity. Soon all your efforts will pay off."

This seemed to work on our client. Only Harvey Dent felt like a stranger in this situation, but he didn't pay much attention. He was the only one calmly puffing on a fat cigar and clutching his trusty Thompson submachine gun.

It all started with a power outage in Arkham Asylum. However, it only lasted a couple of seconds before the building's backup power supply kicked in, bathing the area in dim red lights. Suddenly, the entrance door to the room exploded into splinters, concussing those standing nearby, who groaned on the floor in pain. The rest opened fire at the entrance but found no one there. The ceiling of the lobby had glass windows that also exploded, and the main participants of this masquerade dived in from above. I considered myself merely a spectator. Meanwhile, Harley and Joker decided to join the fun. Shots, screams, and powerful strikes knocked the criminals off their feet. It all looked like utter chaos. When those who had used firearms were dealt with, only two were left standing: Harley and Joker. Once again, as I watched them, I realized that this entire "plan" had been devised for this very moment, to play this endless game again. Harvey lost to the boy, Harley lost to Batgirl, and Batman sent Joker flying with a final uppercut.

So, it seemed like everything was as it should be. Good had triumphed over evil, right? Out of curiosity, I decided to check Batman's statistics.

Name: Batman

Real Name: Bruce Wayne

Age: 31 years

Titles: Gotham's Protector, The Dark Knight, World's Greatest Detective, Human Arsenal, Reached the Limit, Keeper of Order

Race: Human

Class: Universal

Level: 70

Professions: Hero, Billionaire, Enforcer of Order

Strength: 80

Agility: 80

Luck: 150

Intuition: 250

Willpower: ??? - impossible to calculate

Wisdom: 170

Constitution: 100

Endurance: 100

Charisma: 165

Intelligence: 210

Stamina: 200

Special Features: Indomitable Will, Tactical Analysis, Master of Disguise, Peak Human Strength/Agility/Reflexes/Speed/Endurance/Resilience, Erudite, Master Detective, Leader, Polyglot, Brilliant Tactician and Strategist, Master of Escapes, Photographic Memory, Tracking, Acrobat, Adaptation, Pure Heart, Great Destiny, Emotion and Body Control

Skills: Master of Hand-to-Hand Combat, Master of Cold Weapons, Aviator, Experienced Mechanic, Skilled Driver.

Once again, these monstrous characteristics and an enormous number of skills and abilities. And he managed to acquire all of this in about thirty-something years. Seriously?

And then I noticed that Black Mask, who had regained his composure, stood up and, aiming squarely at Barbara's back, fired. At that moment, I froze time. I positioned myself directly in the path of the bullet and, carefully calculating, held a knife in front of me. Time resumed its normal flow, and I calmly realized that if it weren't for me, she would have either been seriously injured or, in the worst case, had an extra hole in her head because she hadn't even had time to react to the shot.

"Th-thank you...?" she said uncertainly, thanking me for my help. I smiled silently like a fox and shrugged.

Inside me, the realization of how I wanted to end all of this came. Fortunately, our client was already reloading his pistol, so it was easy for me to quickly catch up to Black Mask. I grabbed the edge of his shirt and thrust my knife under his chin. The blade entered with a squelching and unpleasant sound. For a few seconds, his body convulsed, until I pulled out the blade. A second later, his lifeless body fell face-first, showing no signs of life.

"No! What have you done?!"

Relationship with Batman / Bruce Wayne -2000 (Criminal), Relationship with Robin / Dick Grayson -1000 (Criminal), Relationship with Batgirl / Barbara Gordon -800 (Criminal)

Relationship with the Joker — +100 (Interest), Relationship with Harley Queen — +100 (Cute Plush Toy)

Despite my actions being entirely with good intentions, in the eyes of these "Heroes," I still appeared as a criminal.

"You're welcome," I replied nonchalantly to Batgirl. "Oh, these 'heroes,' imposing their vision of justice and rules on others. I'm curious, what do they call a police officer who shoots a criminal trying to kill an innocent person? Three? Five times? And how many regular people would still suffer in the future? You could say I did you a favor by getting rid of him."

+100 Reputation with Batgirl and Robin

Interestingly, after their reputation had slightly improved, their attitudes changed from simply "criminal" to "dislike." It seems my arguments were taken into consideration, although it clearly didn't work on their main man.

"Murder is a crime, and even with good intentions, it's unacceptable," Batman stepped forward. There were three meters between us. Batgirl and Robin were busy handcuffing the criminals.

"Then you're an even bigger child than I am, Bruce..."

Not even a muscle twitched, while Barbara and Dick couldn't remain indifferent to such a revelation.

"Don't interfere. He's dangerous," he gave them a short command. "I'll deal with him myself." He stood in a fighting stance, waiting for me to make the first move. Although, I would have started anyway. I froze time again and approached him from behind. With all my strength, I struck his side with my right hand. His body moved extremely slowly from the floor and began to levitate slightly. The costume he wore was clearly not for show, and every blow to it caused pain in the bones of my fingers. After finishing a series of strikes with a bloody palm, I simply snapped my fingers, and...

"Cough...!" Batman's body flew from the center of the room, through the entrance, and crashed violently against a lamppost.

"I'd love to see that," I chuckled, walking calmly outside, turning back to Batman's companions with a foxy smile.

"I wouldn't advise you, kids, to interfere. Who knows, I might not be able to hold back."

Status: Petrification — that's what the system said about their condition. Apparently, they hadn't seen anything like this before. Amusing.

As soon as I finished speaking and turned around to where Batman should have been lying a few seconds ago, I received a powerful uppercut to the jaw.

"What the...?! How the hell did he recover so quickly?" That thought raced through my mind when Batman showed no intention of stopping and executed a "Combo" like in a fighting game. A series of hits to the chest, palm strikes to the ears causing a loud ringing, headlock, and a knee strike. My head was ringing, and everything around me blurred. Slightly swaying, I took his final and famous "Whirlwind" strike right to the jaw, which knocked out a couple of my teeth and sent me sprawling.

"You... you're ready. You won't harm anyone else."

"Hahaha!" I laughed, slightly choking on blood. I turned on my side, spat blood onto the asphalt, and managed to lift myself a bit.

"Impressive, Batman. Extremely... impressive. When the 'time' comes, I'll definitely be better prepared. Until then, don't let yourself get killed, Man-Who-Lost-His-Parents."

It didn't hurt much, to be honest. My body was just burning, and it was slow to move due to a couple of unpleasant debuffs.

Debuff: Mild Concussion, Broken Ribs, Broken Jaw — Full Recovery (23 hours 23 minutes)

Stopping time, I calmly realized that in my current condition, I wouldn't be able to do anything to him. Yes, I could easily kill him right now, but I didn't want to see the terrible consequences of that action. Let's go through the list:

1) He's Joker's main and favorite toy. If I kill him, I can't predict what Joker will do next. Yes, I can kill both Batman and Joker, but something tells me that even scarier monsters will take their place. They complement each other perfectly. A Particle of Order against a Particle of Chaos. An eternal confrontation that I can only postpone briefly.

2) Thanks to him, this city is under "relative" control, and if I remove him, the criminals in this city will run rampant.

3) I respected his achievements and experience. Even with my Time Stop ability, he turned out to be much stronger and better than me. He defeated me, and that's the plain truth. Killing him won't bring me the joy of victory. As Joker said, "Killing doesn't make me someone significant or grown-up."

Holding my painful side, I pushed aside a sewer hatch and closed it carefully behind me. My last MP ran out, and I walked slowly through this foul-smelling tunnel, opening my Player Map and heading toward the city exit. I think I should leave it as soon as possible, before I meet...

Behind me, I heard the sound of heavy boots. I quietly smirked, bowing my head. He's so persistent. I had forgotten about his "Tracking" skill. I turned to face Batman, who stood calmly with a bloody lip and a battered costume.

"You will come with me."

"And what if I refuse?"

"I can be very persuasive. How do you know who I am? Who are you?"

"I..." I paused and decided to answer him with pure honesty. "I'm 'Player'. Ended up in somewhat uncomfortable conditions in a laboratory among fanatic and hostile Germans who were conducting experiments on such a little me, but then I got fed up with it, killed them all, and escaped. A sad story of another villain."

"You haven't answered my questions."

"Do you really think I'll just give you the answers? You haven't done anything to deserve them. Do you think that because you beat up a thirteen-year-old kid, he should automatically become your friend? You don't even have a clue who the Joker is."

"And do you... know?"

"Doesn't my appearance give you a hint? We are similar and yet vastly different from each other. I am the Player, and he is a Pawn in the hands..." I bit my tongue, almost revealing an important detail that would give him much food for thought and various "Ways to Save the Joker." Why do I think he wants to save him specifically? If a person like the Joker can be cured of his madness, he will prove to himself and the world that even the worst people on Earth are deserving of a second chance. He's even willing to overlook the casualties of their merry games and continue indefinitely. At least, that's what I think."

"Whose 'Pawn'?! Answer!" There he goes, getting agitated. You're losing control because some pitiful little kid is bargaining with you in such a pathetic state, and he knows something about Him. Maybe he knows key information for his rescue.

"Let's put it this way... Bruce," I decided to sit down and lean against the cold wall.

"I'll give you a few options for how this can play out," I said, extending my right hand with my index finger. "First option: you take me in and send me to jail or a mental institution, depending on their evaluation, and gain practically nothing from it. Meanwhile, I can reveal your little secret to a couple of influential criminals and give them something to think about. Do I need to mention that after that, Batman's life will come to an end, and Bruce Wayne's life will turn into a real nightmare?" I added while raising my middle finger. "Second option: I give you a name, and not just any name but the name of the person hiding behind the Joker's mask. And you pretend I don't exist here. There's also a Third option. The Most Brutal one. To avoid your fate in the first option, you knock me out, take me to your beloved cave, and subject me to torture, experiments, and interrogations until I break. It would be amusing to see the faces of your so-called family when they see what you can do to a teenager who has a thin thread connecting him to your eternal enemy."

"I won't do that."

"I calculate all possible scenarios. So, what's your choice?"

"What guarantees do I have that everything you're saying is true?"

"There are none. Maybe everything I said is pure fiction, and I'm just saying it to save my own skin. Or perhaps I'm pretending to be all-knowing, while in reality, I just pointed my finger in the sky and named your name to see your reaction. Having this kind of access to expensive equipment, it's not hard to guess that it takes a lot of money. Anyway, it's up to you."

"...You don't talk like an ordinary kid."

I chuckled slightly at his remark and pointed my finger at my hairstyle.

"Have you ever seen ordinary kids with 'this' appearance? Tick-tock, Bats. Time's ticking. Aren't you afraid that while you're here with me, Joker might pull off some stunt?"

It clearly bothered him.

"I choose the second option."

"Excellent. I'd like to issue one more warning: if you don't fulfill your part of the deal and let me go, I promise you that I'll kill you and everyone dear to you. To illustrate the seriousness of my intentions, I'll give you the names of these people: Alfred, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, and Commissioner Gordon."

"I'll keep my word."

"Don't think of me as some kind of lunatic! 'Bats'!" My slightly mocking tone could convince a person otherwise. "I just trusted one single person, and it happened to cost me my life. That's why I'm using all possible options. The city loves you. The shining figure of Good and Justice. Reputation is one thing, but trust is an entirely different matter. There's no trust between us, and I have no idea what lengths you would go to achieve your goal. Alright, enough of the unnecessary words. I'll tell you what you're so eager to find out: Joker's real name used to be John Doe."

"John... Doe..." he repeated thoughtfully, as if savoring the name.

"Try to find something about this... dead man. Maybe, having found information about him, you will be able to awaken him from his grave and, perhaps, you will be able to "resurrect" him by some miracle. Anyway, that's your concern. I just gave you a hint and nothing more," after standing a little longer, he turned his back to me and slowly began to walk away, which made me exhale with relief and shout out to him one last time. "By the way, Batman! Please don't tell him that I told you that, otherwise I'm just... as stupid as it sounds... afraid of his reaction."

"You possess some sort of speeding magic, and you're still afraid of him?"

"Well, it so happens that the man you're looking for and what he has become are two entirely different things. I can only say this as a parting thought, Bruce. If you kill him, the consequences of that action could be simply... catastrophic."

"Leave the city and don't cross my path again. After all, you're a criminal."

After that, he disappeared, and I was able to breathe a sigh of relief and continue my journey through the sewers. I didn't want to wait too long for my recovery, so I decided to use my stashed dessert to speed up the process. A couple of hours later, due to my paranoia, I decided to check myself for bugs or listening devices, as Batman also had a penchant for being paranoid. After half an hour of thorough searching, I managed to find a bug and discarded it. Once my body was more or less back to normal, I simply ordered a taxi to take me out of the city onto the nearest highway. As soon as I crossed the city limits, I received a notification.

Your actions in Gotham have been noticed by the key figures. You are one of the few who managed to kill the head of one of the city's major syndicates and evade the consequences from the city's main crime-fighting threat, Batman. You've shown impressive results and have made quite a name for yourself.

Task Completed!

Reward: +1 level, +20 World reputation, Item: Body Control (Can only be used once. Reuse: Impossible. Access to Dungeons unlocked!)

Congratulations, you've reached Level 16!

Gotham

Reputation among Heroes: -500

Reputation among Villains: +510

Overall World reputation: 25

Your current status is Confirmed Anti-Hero. You tend to do bad things to bad guys.

Now that I have a chance to think, I've come to some sobering conclusions. I overestimated my abilities and naively believed that it was enough. It was a painful but necessary lesson that brought me back down to earth. I must accept the fact that I am weak and stand no chance without time manipulation against someone like Batman or the Joker. This power... it intoxicated me. I shouldn't constantly rely on it. Who knows, there might be people who can resist this effect or even block it?! Even the System hinted that I am too weak and offered me the only quick way to become strong in my current situation. The System already knew in advance that I would end up as the loser in any outcome, or miraculously survive future troubles. Now my task is to finally allocate skill points, gather all the necessary items for the Dungeon, and test it at my own peril. There's no other way.