12

"All of Gotham City weeps, for the tragic, massive loss of life –"

"The man known as Zed Rander, The Consultant, a controversial figure best known for his challenge against the alleged, and presumed deceased mob boss Carmine Falcone, is said to be the one responsible for what is now being called 'The Gotham City Massacre'."

"Mayor Hamilton Hill has issued a general curfew on the City of Gotham which is to be strictly enforced by the Police –"

"The Justice League have issued a statement detailing that The Consultant is dead – as the criminal presumably blew himself up in what was a failed suicide attack against five of its members."

"A candlelight vigil service is being held today, in lieu of the massive death toll that has never before been seen in Gotham City's, and this Country's history –"

"Legend Industries C.E.O. Makarov Dreyer made a public statement today condemning the killing and the violence, and has called into the question the efficiency and efficacy of the Gotham City Police Force, and the Justice League, pushing for more drastic means of ensuring peace and order in the City –"

"Rumors speculate about the fate of Gotham's own vigilante, Batman, as he was last seen on the night of the massacre, and has not been heard from since. The Justice League, so far, have refused to comment."

XXXXXXX

"Amusing, isn't it?"

Rain drops fell, one by one, their combined might a small drizzle, pelting the ground and rooftops with a steady rhythm. Atop one of such roofs, two figures stood, umbrellas in hand.

"Criminals they were – nearly all who died. Yet, even criminals have family – even criminals have wives, fiancées and girlfriends. Even common criminals have daughters, sons and children. So even common criminals will have a vigil for their deaths."

Down below, gathered, were numerous people who shuddered under the cold.

"Of course, they chose a candlelight vigil – and then it rains. Either that's the way Mother Nature is trying to tell them that it does not care about the deaths of their loved ones, or that it cares far too much."

There was an annoyed grunt from a distinctively female voice. "Is there a reason why you called for this meeting?"

"Considering I pulled a lot of strings just to get you here, I should certainly hope so."

The man turned to her, his form immaculate, his face gruff with a suitable beard."The Batman has been crippled." He said with no preamble. "Though he will walk again, he will never fully regain control of his arms and will be but a mere shadow of his former self. Hence, Gotham City is left without a suitable protector; it is all but ripe for the taking."

"Then take it." The female voice said, "I have more important things to worry about."

"Oh, like completing your little Task Force?"

"How do you –"

"I am old." the voice said, laughing "With but a few exceptions less than the number of fingers I possess, I am the oldest living being on this planet. Do you truly think there is nothing of great import that goes on that I am not aware of?"

"I shouldn't even be talking to you."

"But yet," the voice mused, "You are. You are here, because you know, and I know, that if you were not of use to me, you would have died long ago." A chuckle. "Not that it matters to me if you die here and now. I will outlive you by eons regardless."

"What do you want?"

"The Man who crippled Gotham in twenty four hours."

"The Consultant?" a frown. "He's dead."

"I find it hard to believe, that after accomplishing so much, a man like that would choose to kill himself in an attack he knew was destined to fail." A smile. "Oh, no. It is much more likely, that he is biding his time, waiting, recovering from his setback – and planning something, something much, much greater."

"You want to find him?"

"Yes."

"Why?

"Is it not obvious?"

The immortal grinned.

"I want him to succeed."

DC – Remastered Edition

"I think we got fucking lucky."

Luck.

He had not believed in it before. Never accounted for it, and considered it mere probability than some universal force looking out for him. Yet, even he could not deny, the odds and strange fact, that the one target he had failed to capture, the one target he had failed to even locate, in all his years –

Happened to be someone capable of crippling the Batman, and wiping out thousands of people in one night, using an unknown method.

"No. Not luck. Skill."

It wasn't luck. It was skill. The Consultant had evaded them at every step and every corner, and made it so he could not be found. A man like that was above his paygrade, and although it stung at his pride, he valued his life far more than he did his ego. The knowledge that there were people much stronger and much better than you was always present, which was why he never deliberately targeted more dangerous foes in the Justice League. Not even all his skill with a sword and gun would help him against Superman.

"So… what do we do now?"

That was indeed the question. Gotham City was still very hot so to speak – although, as it stood, there were no real protectors of it. Batwoman, Nightwing and Batgirl were all that stood between Gotham City and complete anarchy – such an opportunity would be absolutely unwise to waste. The police force was already spread ridiculously thin in attempts to keep the peace, and several key players of Gotham had been eliminated – leaving hundreds of caches of weapons and other far more valuable goods left unguarded. Some… more valuable than others.

"All of the gang members of Gotham City were killed?"

"That's what the news is saying."

"Even members of the Intergang?"

She had always been quick on the update, and it was something which made him proud, as it was expected of his daughter.

"I'll get the preparations ready."

"Make it fast. I doubt we'll be the only ones after that prize."

The Penguin, Two-Face and Black-Mask had lost all their forces – which meant that they could not send their normal goons out to retrieve anything for them, and until they regained their members and lieutenants, they would be effectively crippled as well. However, this also meant that most of their guarded properties were also left open – ripe to the taken.

He personally had no interest in what they might have, but the thought was alone to make him realize just how much damage one man had caused. One person had effectively crippled crime in Gotham more brutally than anyone thought possible.

He would have respected the man, and actually would have liked to meet such a person, however, that was no longer possible.

So, the mercenary for hire merely said a silent posthumous thanks to the Consultant – for paving a way for a possible goldmine.

XXXXXXXX

You have completed the Quest – To Temper Justice With Mercy!

Merely hijacking another body was something that had never been in my intentions, especially when I could merely create one – as I had done when ripping off Pein's Six Paths techniques.

The issue, of course, was to create one that was far sturdier than the previous one. Using artificial minerals would be a pointless endeavor, as there was no doubt in my mind that Superman could shatter diamonds, and Wonder Woman could cut through it. So, instead of conventional methods of creation – I went with Alchemic Enchantments.

"Enchanted on the Flesh – Immunity to Fire. Immunity to Frost. Immunity to Wind. Immunity to Earth. Immunity to Lightning. Immunity to Piercing Damage. Immunity to Slicing Damage. Immunity to Blunt Damage."

Then the next layer.

"Enchanted on the Bone – Nullify Gravity. Nullify Wind Resistance. Nullify Weight. Greater Strength. Greater Fortify. Greater Magic Defense. Triple Greater Strength. Triple Greater Fortify. "

Then, the final layer.

"Enchanted on the Soul – Auto-Instinct. Animate: Auto-Dodge. Voodoo: Auto-Counter. Animate: Auto-Counter. Auto-Counter: Cain's Counter. Animate: Auto-Eject."

The body was created from a lock of my hair which I had possessed in my inventory. It, was in essence, still my body – but with the new additions, it might as well be something else entirely. My soul slipped into it like as though I was slipping into a skin-tight body suit, and then the sensation faded away, as I literally got accustomed to my new skin.

"I believe Congratulations are in order Master Zack."

I turned, my attention landing on Nezumi, as he handed me a long robe. I took it, before merely humming.

"And why would that be?"

"You have made your mark on the world Master Zack," he said enthusiastically "Even now, I can hear the pitiful cries of the souls of the unworthy that you have delegated to the underworld. I attained a strong connection to Hell after consuming the flesh and souls of the demon and the magician, and your name is certainly mentioned with fear amongst the denizens below."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that information. I supposed it was good – in a way, it was progress. Although, I had a feeling that we would be meeting a lot more of the supernatural elements of the world, considering that Nezumi had succeeded in killing and consuming the soul of John Constantine – a person that both demons and angels alike were not quite fond of.

"You've done well, Nezumi – with the fortress, and with dispatching the heroes."

He bowed, "I am at your service, Master Zack."

So… all that remained now… was…

The Justice League.

I snickered.

"Master… Zack?"

I had been outmatched, badly, insanely outmatched. For whatever reason, I believed that the Justice League I was going to be facing would be the ones of the comics, or maybe the cartoons, or hell, the CW Series. That they would be inept, slow, ineffective, and grossly underutilizing their powers and their true potential.

Except – when there was no overarching 'plot' holding them back, the Justice League were insanely powerful.

I remembered the Flash series – Barry Allen, had, in one scene, ran with a buff man from a prison in Central City, to somewhere in China, all in the span of the time it took for a prison security camera to swing from left to right. That was about eight seconds, if I was being generous. Yet, in another scene, Barry, who had ran to China and back in less than that time, could not catch up to The Thinker in a slow flying chair that couldn't even be as fast as a private jet.

In that scenario – as it was in all scenarios – the Justice League lost because plot demanded them to lose. They struggled because plot required them to struggle. All of their powers were irrelevant, and they could only do what the plot needed them to, or needed them not to.

Except – here, they didn't have that restriction.

In this world, there was no conspiring force trying to stop them from winning – they stood an equal, or perhaps, better chance at succeeding against me, and that had shown in the one-sided beat-down that I'd been on.

The fact was simple:

I can't beat the Justice League head on.

It was… impossible, at least, with my current skillset and capabilities. In another ten, twenty, or thirty years, it would seem more likely, but as I was now? I'd have better luck trying to convert the Joker into a devout Catholic.

Even with my newest additions – I still would not be capable of taking down all of them at the same time. Perhaps, a guerilla styled war against them would be preferred – tackling them one after the other, and leaving The Flash and Superman for last. If I hit them hard and fast, there was no doubt in my mind that I would stand a significantly increased chance for success –

As long as I made sure that neither Superman nor the Flash could find out about the attacks. Both of them could circle round the entire planet in the time it would take me to inhale – rendering my ambushes pointless.

I snickered again.

"Master… Zack?"

It was funny for me to think, to realize, that my dream which I had felt was an inevitability, was somewhat closer to an impossibility. Until I gained the speed-of-thought to contend with Superman and The Flash – there was absolutely no way I could single-handedly contend with the entire Justice League at once and take them all down like I was Goku bitch-slapping characters from the One Piece fandom.

Another snicker escaped my lips.

Thirteen Years – what the hell had I been doing in all that time? I had been so deluded and assured in my power and superiority that I had not bothered to do something as simple as basic recon on the entire Justice League. Hell, I'd lived in Gotham for years and I only ever set my eyes on Batman just yesterday. Had I been that cocky in my superiority? Why wouldn't I be? My powers essentially made me nigh-godlike. However, 'almost-godlike' wasn't godlike, and I'd gotten a bitter taste of what true godlike power was.

I laughed.

Jesus! I couldn't help it – it was just… so… ridiculous. The Justice League was ridiculous. What were the writers high on when they decided to make people capable of comprehending information in attoseconds? What were they thinking when they created powers so terrifyingly powerful, that someone like me, was more or less a minor hindrance than a major threat? I could drain people's souls, mind-control them, alter atoms to turn air into cyanide – and even then, I couldn't scratch them! Scratch them!

I laughed, and I laughed –

It was – all of this was –

I grit my teeth.

It – IT – IT –

Gamer's Mind kicked in, and I calmed down. Of course. I supposed 'frustration' was a negative psychological effect. It couldn't have me feeling that now could it? Let me remain the perfectly calm, perfectly rational person who didn't and couldn't give up on his life dream because of a major setback.

Life dream?

Yes… a three year old boy who'd lost the only thing he ever cared about decided that killing and enslaving the world's greatest heroes and villains would become his life dream.

And for thirteen years – he was still chasing after something so ridiculous.

It's just a slight setback – why give up now? What kind of coward gives up on his dream just because he faces unexpected difficulties?

No – what kind of idiot would have such a pathetic dream to begin with?

But it's not like I had much options to begin with. With my Gamer powers, what would I do? What would I become? A desk monkey, crunching numbers for the rest of my life, and going back home to kiss my fictional wife? An astronaut? Exploring fictional space with fictional aliens? President? Leading a version of the world that had less rules and systems in place than Sid Meier's Civilization games?

A Superhero?

Deceiving myself to be satisfied into seeing the smiles of people who were unaware of the fact that their lives were meaningless?

What would I do?

What else would I fucking do?!

I grit my teeth hard, hard enough that it should have drawn blood, but yet, I felt no damage.

As the Gamer – I could have become anything. I could have chosen any other path, and I'd become rich and famous, the president, a superstar, a celebrity – I could have all the booze and alcohol in the world, all the women I could ever want, all the sex a man could hope for. But – what would it be worth in the end?

If I died here – I would be sent to either heaven or hell.

I would be condemned, to eternity in a fictional afterlife.

A fictional afterlife.

How… how was I supposed to live as a normal person, as a hero, as a president, politician or astronaut, when that fact hung over my head every waking second?

The alternative is immortality – to live forever in a fictional universe.

Hah! Considering that I'd be in hell forever regardless, immortality is the lesser of two evils – but it doesn't make it any less horrifying. Knowing that I am destined, to live for years and years and years and years – forever – and ever and ever and ever –

Why the bloody fucking hell, would I want to be a hero?

Why the hell, would I want to be normal?

As it stood, I would outlive the entire Justice League. I would outlive the Teen Titans. I would outlive Superman – all because, I can't afford to die. Not here. Not ever.

Let's say I did conquer the Justice League, let's say I did rule the world, take over everything and everyone, turn Darkseid into skinny girl with large boobs, made The Presence into my personal cobbler, ruled over the universe… the most terrifying question that came, was the most obvious –

What next?

Life only had meaning because death was a constant.

Remove death – and what was the point of existence?

–0HP!

I had been punched. I could tell that I had been punched because of the impact, and although it had done absolutely no damage, and felt like someone had poked me, I was now across the room – which was more than enough evidence that the hit had possessed the necessary force to push me back.

I leveled a cold gaze unto the assailant.

"Nezumi… did you just… hit me?"

The Butler took a deep bow. "I am afraid so, Master Zack. Partially, to confirm the true extent of your newest upgrades, and partially to rouse you from your… state. I could taste an existential crises around you Master Zack, for which I quickly ascertained must be a magical ailment inflicted by an enemy. Although, it is preposterous for them to have infiltrated the fortress, so, hence, I assume it was a curse with a delayed effect."

My eyebrow twitched.

"Although, I must say, Master Zack, you are far… sturdier than before, and your Auto-Counter seems to be in fine condition." Nezumi rose his hand, which was a mangled mess, as though he had punched it into fine paste of flesh. I rose my attention to his face, where there was a fine placed fist imprint engraved on it.

Auto-Counter – it was exactly as it said it did. For every attack I received, my body would quite literally break barriers of time and space to inflict an attack with equivalent or greater damage to the assailant, immediately.

If you shot at me with a laser beam or a sniper rifle – the Voodoo mode etched into my soul would activate, and the damage would be immediately transferred to the attacker. Cain's Counter made it so that repeat damage or offense would be doubled. If you were to punch me once, and then punch me again, Auto-Counter would make it so I punch you four times. If you punched me three times, I would counter immediately with six strikes. Hit me five times, and you would be hit ten times. It was automatic, and the counters happened faster than I could even perceive – but part of me felt that The Flash would be able to see it happen.

"I believe I have dispelled the effects of the curse, now, Master Zack. You may, however, deem me with whatever punishment necessary for striking you."

I stared at him, waiting expectantly for a punishment of some sort or the other. Nezumi was loyal – but punching me was not something I could casually overlook.

"Destroy yourself."

He didn't even flinch. "As you wish Master Zack. It has been my pleasure, serving you."

He punched his hand into his chest, bringing out a phantasmal green essence that embodied his 'soul.'

"Alter!" A snap use of alteration turned his arm into a giant Popsicle before he could crush his soul. He turned to stare at me.

"You've proven yourself loyal, Nezumi," I said with a tired sigh. "I can hardly punish you when your only crime is being found guilty of loyalty."

He took a bow. "I am but your humble creation, Master Zack. A being who cannot be of service to his creator has no purpose existing."

The words were more chilling to me than he probably realized.

"If I may ask, Master Zack, what is our next plan?"

The question brought me back to the moment, to the issue of the Justice League, to the reason Nezumi had punched me in the first place. I'd already set some things in motion, and unless I became a speedster and went back in time, what was done was already done.

"It's November, Nezumi," I said slowly, "For now, the Justice League are still on high-alert, and doing their best to run damage control. Gotham City will become a hotspot of activity sooner or later once people find out that Batman is out of the picture… so for now… we enterprise."

"We… enterprise?"

I nodded. "Most of the villains will be coming out of the woodworks about now – drawn to The Consultant's legacy – either inspired by him, motivated by him, or attempting to take advantage of an opportunity that was created by his actions." I said, putting my palms together as I closed my eyes, "Those who lost significant manpower – Black Mask, Penguin, Two-Face – they'll be desperate. Their crime empires will crumble to pieces without adequate management – so they'll be doing their best to try and get as many new goons as possible. Drug deals in the city will crawl to an all time slow because most of the dealers and suppliers are dead – and now, people will need drugs more than ever because of the 'tragedy'."

"I assume that we will be taking advantage of this?"

I nodded.

"Right now – the city is lacking in numerous things – the first, is goons, thugs, and hired muscle. The second, is a steady supply of drugs and drug dealers, and the third, believe it or not, is suitable security – aka – a Police Force."

Nezumi rose an eyebrow. "The GCPD –"

"Have been crippled because more than half of the force was corrupt. My ritual wiped out all of Falcone's men – including those he had on the inside. Hundreds of cops were on his payroll, and if not his payroll, they worked for one of the other gangs in Gotham. As it stands, the GCPD has been purged of corruption – but, that means they are now effectively understaffed."

I rose, putting my hands behind my back. "Less police translates to more crime – but with nearly all the petty criminals dead – this means that only the major players will be coming out. It's almost guaranteed seeing as how Gotham has less protection without Batman in it – so this means a series of heists or villain attacks will rapidly skyrocket in the upcoming weeks. It's also highly likely that a breakout occurs at Arkham."

"You wish to prevent that?"

I nodded. "Yes, but first – I need to take control of the drug trade in Gotham. Wipe out heroin, cannabis, LSD, cocaine – and replace it with a far better… substitute." I said with a smile. "To do this, I need better knowledge of chemical compounds and plants – so that means I need Scarecrow and Poison Ivy."

I withdrew a card from my inventory, turned it into a chalkboard, generated some chalk and then wrote it – Item One.

"Once that is done, I need distributors, but more importantly than that – I need workable, disposable, but still highly efficient minions. A veritable Army – one actually capable and dangerous, which will immediately control all crime within Gotham."

I wrote down – Item Two.

"A portion of this army will join the police, and another portion will work as independent contractors – skilled, capable, an alpha team. This ensures that they gain a form of rapport and solidify my control over Gotham. It is at this point – we begin the systematic elimination of the crime lords."

I marked it – Item Three.

"At this point, I'm essentially in charge of all of Gotham – all that's left, is legitimate political power, so, Makarov runs for Mayor. First decree? Make Vigilantism an offence punishable by death in the City of Gotham."

I penned – Item Four.

"Then we tear down Arkham and establish the 'Metahuman Reformation Institute.' A… place where criminal Metahumans with special powers are 'reformed' for the good of society."

Then, it was complete – Item Five.

I turned to Nezumi. "Gotham City will mark the change in the world – honestly, with the level of technology this world has, it should be Mass Effect Level or Star Wars Level by now – there should be readily available interstellar and intergalactic travel – but somehow, it's still stagnating in the Information Age. Definitely need to correct that as the emperor of the earth."

Nezumi was grinning. He was grinning so widely that it almost took me back for a brief second.

"I, of course, always knew, Master Zack – that you were indeed destined to rule this planet."

I coughed uncomfortably into my hand. "Er – well yes. Anyway – this is essentially the starting point. The drug I create to replace all drugs is essentially going to be one of the major points of progress – so, the sooner I get my hands on Poison Ivy and Scarecrow – the better."

Nezumi nodded.

"And the army…?"

I grinned. "Homunculi. The Justice League will think they're real people, and will try their best to avoid killing them – they, on the other hand, have no such restrictions. Plus, it will make them far more efficient, and less likely to be red-shirted Stormtroopers."

If it was possible, Nezumi grinned even wider.

"And the Justice League, Master Zack – how exactly do you intend to deal with them?"

I took in a deep breath.

"The Justice League's major point is that they are the defenders of the world – of earth. The 'heroes' of society. I don't even need to fight them – at least, not without avoiding it. So, how do I completely defeat them without raising a finger?"

I grinned.

"I make them obsolete."

Main Quest Unlocked!

Main Quest Tree Unlocked!

The Evil Overlord List – Part I

It's time to fight smart and not hard. To avoid idiotic mistakes, and to take the smartest path to victory. Cheating? Underhanded tactics? Cowardly behavior? I think you mean – Common Sense.

Main Objectives:

Item One: Kidnap/Abduct Scarecrow and Poison Ivy to create the Super-Drug

Item Two: Create an army of Homunculi

Item Three: Have your army infiltrate the Police and have them distribute Super-Drug

Item Four: Makarov Dreyer Runs For Mayor

Item Five: 'Reform' the Villains of Gotham

Bonus Objectives:

Allergic to Red: Make your army an antithesis to Stormtroopers and Redshirts

On Their Own Volition: Have any Villain/Hero join your cause without forcing them

Total Makeover-City Edition: Eliminate Gotham's Crime Rate/Turn Gotham to a Utopia

?

?

?

Rewards:

Title: God of Gotham

10,000,000 EXP

?

?

?

?

Failure:

Death/Incarceration

Anarchy of Gotham

It was a plan. A plan that didn't account for godlike speedsters or Kryptonians – but it was a workable plan nonetheless.

"So – Poison Ivy and Scarecrow –"

"I can sense both of them, Master Zack." Nezumi said. "They are both currently at Arkham Asylum."

I nodded, slowly closing my eyes as I began thinking.

"One Week."

"Master Zack?"

"If no breakout occurs within the next seven days, we launch our own strike at Arkham to extract them. This is suitable enough time for things to settle slightly in Gotham – and also a time frame that I think would be optimum for a breakout to happen."

I marked on the board – Seven Days' Time

"In the meanwhile – we have an army we need to begin working on. I think we'll start small – with five hundred homunculi first."

"Master Zack." Nezumi said, taking a deep bow, "I would be deeply honored, if you will accept my selfish request, and make it so I take care of the creation of the Homunculi for you."

I quirked my brow. "You can do that?"

"Master Zack, for you, I can do anything."

Those words again, I grinned.

"Alright – so that leaves item four – Makarov Dreyer running for Mayor." I frowned. "Superman and The Flash can both see through my illusions – so I need to be able to find a different way of changing my appearance – Shapeshifting is the best option – but because I can't Alter living matter, I need to figure out another way to shapeshift."

To this end – It meant I would need to find a character who could naturally shapeshift, and then absorb their powers. The only person who came to mind now, was Clayface – which meant that I'd have to track down the petty criminal and gain his ability.

Alternatively, enchanting an amulet to change my appearance would work, but it would be a far less effective solution. I rubbed my nose in irritation, as I realized that tracking down Clayface was going to be my best option so far.

"Master Zack, if you will permit me," Nezumi said "But – I believe that you are in need of some, rest and relaxation, as it were."

"What?"

"Your goal to conquer Gotham, Master Zack, operates fully at your own schedule. There is no need for urgency, nor is there for everything to be rushed – time is trifling to a being such as yourself." The butler explained, "As it stands, Master Zack – a few days spent – clearing your head, or perhaps partaking in cuisine, women or wine – would certainly benefit you in the long run. After all – there is no point in conquering this feeble world Master Zack, unless you are suitably happy doing it."

"I –" I wasn't quite sure what to say to that. "I think you may be right, Nezumi."

Some time off?

Rest and Relaxation?

That was true – in a way. Still, I felt as though I had rested and relaxed enough – I felt as though these past thirteen years have been that – except – it hasn't. It was work, grind, train, and establishing a billion dollar enterprise whilst making sure everything looked legal and fine.

Yeah… I think I could go for some of that.

"Oh, also, Master Zack," Nezumi added, "Whilst I was impersonating your Makarov Dreyer persona to make the speech condemning the massacre, I aided you in leaking certain information about the fact that Bruce Wayne has been diverting funds from his company for 'unknown' expenses. I believe, in lieu of the massacre, the public would be quite incensed at discovering that their supposed beacon of hope does not shine as bright they previously believed. This is too your satisfaction, I believe?"

I smiled.

"Nezumi – have I ever mentioned how awesome you are?"

"I do not believe so, Master Zack," the butler said, chuckling "But, such praise Master Zack, should belong to my creator alone."

"I am your creator."

"Then you, Master Zack, are the awesome one."

It was official –

Nezumi was the best.

~~~~~~~~~~ DC – Remastered Edition

Gotham City

2:21 PM

11th of November

Rest and Relaxation… Nezumi had said. Rest and Relaxation.

I found myself idly walking down the streets of Gotham, attempting to find some 'rest and relaxation.' I looked no different from my normal sixteen year old self, although, I had dyed my hair black and changed my eye color to a dull green. I added a few inches to my height, and my hair was now in a short ponytail. If I stood side by side with my previous appearance, no one would be able to tell that I was the same person.

"Rest and Relaxation… where do I find that?"

Maybe I'd go to a Spa?

No, my body would probably freak them out with how solid it was.

A strip club then?

I hadn't entered one of those since Eva was alive.

Sigh – I guess all that left was a bar – where I'd use my quick witted tongue and take whatever girl I saw to a hotel for some action. Though, my sixteen year old form would probably draw some strange looks in a bar.

Maybe I'd find Barbara and torture her for kicks and giggles? I did wonder how the girl was doing considering I'd crippled her father figure and killed thousands of people in her city. Had she broken yet – or was her will still going strong?

Alright – I guess all that was left was to toggle on my Luck and see where it led me.

I waited in place, as if to see if some magical event would suddenly happen from activating my luck –

Nothing.

I sighed, turning my attention to a random storefront in front of me. Should I rob the place for fun? No – counter-intuitive to long term goals. How about possessing the shopkeepers? Or…

Shoplifting.

A wave of nostalgia hit me.

Shoplifting. That was something I hadn't done in ages. I could still remember the time I'd hesitated to shoplift, and how I'd ended up killing a Trigon cultist because of it.

Ah – good times.

I skipped my way over to the store, entering it as unassumingly as ever, and immediately turning my attention the numerous aisles available. So… what to steal, what to steal?

I leaned over a set of watches and sunglasses, particularly a cool looking shade that I fancied. Maybe I'd take thi –

I immediately perked up when I noticed a dot on my map. A blue dot.

That was odd – blue dots indicated allies, and I most certainly did not have any allies so to speak – so who –

I turned around, bumping slightly into a woman behind me. She seemed to be in her thirties, but still had a surprisingly good looking body for it, with thick brown hair, and dressed in what was clearly the store's employee shirt and a pair of jean trousers. My eyes landed upon her face, and whatever quick-witted flirt I wanted to roll off my tongue died as soon as I saw her.

"A-Aunt… Purity?"

She went still as her gaze turned to me.

"What – did you call me?"

My mouth was dry.

"Isaac?"

I froze.

"Isaac… is – is that you?"

I stared. She stared back. There was no denying the face, although slightly more aged, wearing far more conservative clothing and much less make-up – I could recall the face. Anywhere. Anytime.

"Aunt… Purity?" I let out a small smile "Yeah… it's me."

"Oh my god," I didn't know how to handle overwhelmed women. Or, more accurately, I didn't know how to handle them without resorting to mind bending. "It – it really is you – you –" she clasped her hands to her mouth, and then she lunged at me.

Honed instincts and Auto-Counter wanted me to either dodge or counter – stopping the threat before it had a chance to get close – She barreled into me, a move that was not an attack, because any person who attacked like this would be dead, and because if it were an attack, Auto-Counter would have kicked in. Her hands wrapped around my form, and she squeezed me closer to herself, close – too close – a thin needle could have been kept firmly between us with the lack of space available. My nose picked up the scent of sweat and cheap cherry perfume, long hair tickled at my nose, and I stood, awkwardly unsure of where to place my hands at the sudden close contact. Did I put it on her back? That would be touching her bra – which would be odd, or did I put my hands lower, at her waist? Would that be seen as sensual?

It was the first time in a long while I'd felt uncertain about something.

It was also the first time in a long while that I'd been… hugged. That I'd been given a genuine hug. It was the first time in a long while that I'd felt this physical sort of intimacy, and not the cheap, empty ones I'd gotten from picking up high school and college girls.

There was an annoying warmth in my stomach, it was spreading to my throat, spreading all around me like some sort of virus. It was making my lips relax, and contorting it into some form of… smile.

I chalked it all up to the effects of this new body. It was most likely the sole explanation.

The hug grew tighter, and although it'd be ages before she was capable of actually exerting enough pressure on me to break my bones, I let out a slightly uncomfortable cough to point out my discomfort.

"Oh!" she released me, a sheepish smile on her face as my eyes pointed out the pinpricks of tears around her eyes. "Sorry – it's just – I – I can't believe you're –"

"Alive?" I added helpfully, and watched her nod. "I'm still kicking. At least – for now."

"Where've you been? How have you been? You've grown so much taller! You dyed your hair? Why are your eyes different? You grew a ponytail! Did you eventually go to Gotham Academy? Did you get a scholarship? I always knew you were smart for your age! You –"

I had a feeling the never-ending tirade of questions would not stop, so I promptly put a single finger on her lips.

"Aunt Purity –"

Thankfully, she had the decency to look embarrassed. "Sorry – it's just – I'm just… happy to see you, to know that you're still alive."

I wondered if she'd still have that feeling if she knew what I'd done.

"So… er – um," she struggled for the words "I really, really want to catch up and know what you've been doing and everything – but I've also really got to go pick up my kids from school –"

My brain paused for a brief second.

"Kids?"

She gave me a simple, sheepish smile.

~~~~~~~~~DC – Remastered Edition

The last time I'd been in a car driven by someone else, was when I was being taken away by the police. The view across Gotham had been one of those things that had enthralled me, particularly because I'd felt it a wonderful, large and lush landscape for a gritty-type adventure.

Now, though, when I looked at Gotham – I saw a fictional place that suffered because someone said it had to suffer, just so one man would have a cause to fight. I shook my head at the thought, instead, I turned to the woman sitting in the driver's seat, giving her a slightly amused look.

"So… little Aunt Purity has kids now?"

"Yes." She gave me a playful glare. "It happened about three years after you went missing and Eva… anyway. I just couldn't bring myself to go through with another abortion… and thinking of you and Eva… I decided that maybe a family of my own wouldn't be too bad."

I rose an eyebrow. Was this one of those cause-and-effect, butterfly-effect things? My presence changing things without me even realizing it?

"Also, I'm not in that line of work anymore, so please don't call me that in front of the kids."

"Okay," I said with a roll of my eye "What do I call you?"

"My name?"

I gave an exaggerated gasp. "You actually have a name?"

"Harr-Harr," she said, "Of course I have a name. What do you take me for? An extra in an action movie?"

"More like a 'fill-up-the-world' character in a comic book." I quipped.

"You know," she grumbled "I don't remember you being this cheeky when you were younger."

"I was plenty cheeky," I said matter-of-factly. "Just never to you."

"Wait – so, Eva wasn't lying through her teeth when she said you often outwitted her and scolded her like a child?"

She did that? Huh. I could almost picture how funny it must have been.

"Nope." I popped the 'p', before reclining the seat of the chair back. "I don't think she had it in her to come up with a lie that crazy."

"But – you were a year old!"

I nodded. "I was."

"That's… impossible!"

"And so is flying through the air and aliens. But, no one seems to have given Superman the memo."

The car came to a gentle stop in front of a traffic light, and Aunt Purity turned to look at me out of the corner of her eye. "So… you were some sort of 'super-baby?'"

I shrugged, mixing a blend of the truth and a lie. "Kind of – just enhanced intelligence and limited precognition mostly."

"That's… amazing!"

I nodded. "Yep." I popped the 'p'.

She chuckled. "Well, you're certainly not lacking in any confidence."

"Nope." Another 'p' popped.

"Wait… Does… does that mean that you remember everything that's ever happened to you?"

There was a certain uneasiness in her voice. "Yep."

"E-everything?"

I nodded, giving her a knowing look. "Everything."

And I could feel the jovial air shatter.

"The light is green by the way."

She momentarily panicked, stalling the car for a bit, before she hit the gas and continued onwards. I'd have to be a complete idiot not to have noticed the change in demeanor, and I sighed.

"I don't hold you to it," I said dryly. "So you and a couple of other women got off on manipulating a child to give you cunnilingus – I don't care. It's gone – it's something so trifling and insignificant that I'd almost forgotten about it."

The car screeched to a stop, forcing me to adjust myself lest my head go flying through the window.

"Uh – Aunt Purity –"

"Naomi." She whispered. "My name… is Naomi."

It was funny, how I knew that information. People's names were always floating on top of their heads after all, and hers, Naomi Brooks, had been there since I met her. Of course, I still called her Aunt Purity – but something told me she didn't like being called that.

"We're not yet at Gargoyle Middle School." I stated, "That's about three blocks away."

"What I did to you –"

"Forget about it." I interrupted before she could even begin, waving my hand. "You were a horny prostitute who'd made horrible life choices, and taking advantage of a child was just one of them. That's in the past, and it's not a big deal."

She stared at me, genuinely conflicted. "How can you just – forget about it, forgive me for it –"

I shrugged. "This is Gotham City."

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

I opened my mouth to respond, and then closed it. Gotham City brewed psychopaths like the Joker, Two-Face, and even the twisted persona of someone like Batman. In such an environment, it was only natural to be predisposed towards certain tendencies. Of course, I had a feeling she wouldn't like the argument.

"Nothing," I said instead. "Just… don't blame yourself for what you did while you were in a dark place in life."

She still seemed conflicted, and I sighed. "If it'll alleviate any of your guilt, how about I take advantage of you and we call it even?"

Nothing but the sound of cars rushing by past us filled the small family vehicle for several seconds. I could tell that she was considering it, mulling over it in her head, and at the looks she gave me, I knew, that a part of her felt slightly disgusted with the fact that I'd brought up the option. Then, there was disgust with the fact that she'd actually considered it.

"You- you're still sixteen. No – doing what you suggest – it's not any different, I'm still the one taking advantage of you." She stopped, "And… I've given up… that sort of life, exchanging sex for something… anything. It isn't the answer?"

"Then... what is?"

"I… don't know."

I didn't say anything afterwards, as the sound of the car engine roared back to life, and the car was once more back on the road. It didn't take long before I spotted the large iron gate of Gargoyle Elementary, the cartoonish versions of the beasts that stood on each side of the gate, and the slew of schoolchildren and parents leaving the premises. A part of me felt it would be funny, to Animate the gargoyles to life – although I knew it would send people screaming in terror, it would have made for a good prank.

"I… um –"

"You're having second thoughts about introducing me to your kids."

"What? N-no!" she sputtered, "I –"

"It's fine." I said. "You don't have to lie. If they meet me, they'll want to know what our relation is – and you can't exactly tell them, I'm the son of your stripper/prostitute ex-worker you thought dead several years ago, and conned into performing sexual acts on you. You'll have to lie or come up with a convenient excuse – one which you'll have to keep up and remember, making you lie again and again to your children's faces."

I turned to stare at her slightly stunned face.

"This is that… super intelligence thing you were talking about… isn't it?"

I chuckled. "Kind of. But honestly? I just don't really want to be the reason you have to lie to your family. I'm a lot of things… but, hypocritically of me, I'm not a liar. At least – not when someone I care about is involved."

There were too few people on that list for it to matter anyway. I opened the door, and stepped out of the car, before leaning on the open window.

"Nice meeting you again – Aunt Pu – Naomi."

"Isaac – wait!"

I paused, partially out of novelty, partially out of curiosity.

"Stay."

"What?" I wasn't sure I heard her right.

"Stay – I – I want you to stay. To meet my kids – to get to know them," she said, slightly faltering "It isn't much… and it can't make up for all the years lost, but I'd really like for us to be something… something like family."

Family.

How… quaint.

I laughed. "And what will you tell your kids?"

"That you're an uncle… or something – it doesn't matter."

"You'll be lying to them."

"I'll tell them the truth," she clarified, "Eventually. But… I want them to at least be older, before they learn that their mother was a prostitute."

I… could honestly say I wasn't expecting this. Still…

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." She smiled. "Maybe with your smarts you could even tutor them a bit? God knows they need it."

Hah. I could almost laugh at that. Zack Cabrera, slayer of men, killer of mooks, breaker of heroes – Middle School Tutor Extraordinaire.

I chuckled. It'd make for one hell of a story. Naomi saw my chuckle and mistook it for acceptance of the situation, and somehow, I just rolled with it.

"Just wait right here –"

It didn't take long for her to come back, with two people walking beside her. A young boy, Lucian, with short, messy black hair, a pair of glasses, and wearing a simple checkered button-up shirt, a sweater and a pair of jeans. Then, a girl, who appeared the same age, with longer black hair combed into a ponytail, wearing a frilly purple skirt with a pair of striped stockings, and a jean jacket. What drew my attention the most about her was her name –

Evelyn Brooks

Evelyn. Huh.

"So, Lucian, Evelyn – I'd like you to meet someone. He's… kind of closely related, but not really. His mom was someone that was like a sister to me – but she passed away years ago. This is Isaac Cabrera – but you can call him Zack."

Children. I'd never interacted with them. I didn't remember interacting with them. Not in my previous life, considering I had no memories of my previous life to begin with, and in this life, I did not quite have a 'normal' upbringing. But, children were people, they had desires and wants and were slightly the same as adults, if just slightly unable to grasp higher vocabulary and conceptualize certain ideas.

So, when Lucian began sizing me up, I could already tell that he was questioning what someone my age was doing with his mother, evaluating me, judging me – and he sent me a look which was supposed to be intimidating, but was somewhat funny, considering that a round-faced thirteen year old had nothing on Superman's glare.

Of course, I could read him like an open book, and I moved forward, bending slightly to reach his height, before grinning.

"Want to see a cool magic trick?"

I didn't let him respond, instead, I showed him my hands. "Empty." Then, I rubbed them together, shooting them behind my back, and then I brought them back, forward, and in its place, a quick use of Alteration with a card from my inventory had me creating an item –

"Ta-da!"

His eyes immediately lit up, particularly as he spotted the now extremely life-like miniaturized version of a fighter-jet that had appeared in my hands.

"Woah!"

"Would you like to have it?"

"Duh! Yeah!" Excitement overcame his face as I kept the miniature jet in his hand, and he began examining it with the literal exuberance of a child given a new toy.

Naomi's gaze was one that was equally surprised, as she shot me a 'how did you do that' look. I gave a coy smirk and a nonchalant 'who-knows' shrug in return, before I turned my eyes to Evelyn.

I analyzed her in seconds, determining her approach, and I merely went with a simple disarming smile.

"And what is the name of the pretty lady in front of me?"

"Uh… I'm… E-Evelyn."

"So, Evelyn –" I gave her a conspiring look, "Just between you and me," I whispered, putting my hand exaggeratedly to my mouth to try and 'hide' what I was saying.

"I think your mom is trying to steal your look."

She glanced at me, and back to her mom, before snickering. "I think so too."

I nodded sagely. "She doesn't have the youth to pull it off though – it's almost sad."

She snorted again, before outright giggling. For some weird reason, both Lucian and Naomi looked at me as though I had made the devil repent.

"Oh? Evelyn, I didn't know you could giggle."

Ah… that was probably why.

I supposed it was about time for my handsome looks to actually get used for something, although, making a thirteen year old have a crush on me with but a few words was not entirely my intention.

"I – I wasn't giggling!"

"Of course you weren't!"

"I wasn't!"

"I know, and I'm supporting you."

"Gaah! Mom!"

I almost laughed at the sight. Puffed up cheeks, flustered face and wide eyes – the features, so well formed, the hair, blowing in the wind, the clothes ruffling, with creases forming in all appropriate areas. A scent of perfume and natural combinations of hormones – a distinct voice and manner of speaking –

She felt so… real.

They all felt so… real.

How… why… why did they feel so real?

Just the three of them felt more real than the entirety of Gotham, more real than Superman or Batman or Batgirl – made me forget, momentarily, that this whole world was someone's imagination. The complexity of design, in which I saw in these beings that should not exist, but existed purely as a result of my interference, and this being – was… real.

How could something real be created in a world that was fake?

"Um…" she looked flustered "You're staring."

"I am… aren't I?"

"Evelyn's got a cru~ush~!" Lucian sang.

"Shut up Lucian!" she hissed, the flustered expression on her face doubling.

I merely chuckled at the interaction between the siblings, turning to look at Naomi as she gave me a strange look. I was technically sixteen, and her daughter was thirteen – it didn't take a genius for me to figure out what her 'look' meant. It wasn't my fault, however, and she'd been the one to insist I stayed.

"All right, all right, Lucian, stop teasing your sister – Evelyn, stop staring at your… uncle, and get in – we need to get home before curfew."

"Will Isaac be joining us for dinner?"

"Hmm... I'm not sure. Will he?"

I looked to the girl's expression, to the mother's expression, and the boy's expression, and I sighed.

"I guess he will."

~~~~~~~~~~ DC – Remastered Edition

"No, no – you're my guest – I can't let you do the cooking –"

"No, I'm family remember? So you sit back and relax and watch me work my magic."

Naomi's home was something far more generous than what I thought a single mother would be capable of affording. For one, it was an actual home, that is, a house, in one of the relatively nicer neighborhoods of Gotham City, and not an apartment complex in the East End. My main theory behind her wealth was that she had saved a large percentage of the money she had during her 'work' and put it together to be capable of affording this place.

It was certainly spacious, four bedrooms and two baths, a nice kitchen with plenty of space for the dining area to fit in snugly, and a homey little living room with a small television.

Considering that I'd seen her working as a clerk in a small supermarket, sure, a good looking supermarket in a relatively respectable part of town – it didn't quite add up as to how she seemed so… well to do. Or, maybe it was just my general skepticism and a maybe a small part of envy in me at seeing Naomi capable of doing something that Eva couldn't.

Was it so hard for me to believe that someone could clean up their act, change, and become a much better person?

Yes, it was.

"Sigh… all right – all right – how about a compromise? I help you out with the cooking?"

"I've got a better one. How about, I do all the cooking, and in exchange – you wash all the dishes?"

Arguing it out with me was an exercise in futility, and she merely let out a slightly exasperated breath, although, I could see the slight hesitation and wariness in her eyes at letting me cook. I suppose I would be wary too – actually, no, I'd most likely have barred any strangers from my kitchen, so I supposed Naomi was just far more trusting than I was.

I turned my attention over to the kitchen, closing my eyes, and letting a small chuckle escape my lips. Homestyle Cooking had been maxed out for years – and I'd never used it. I never thought I'd even have to use that skill again.

Yet, everything came to me, with dexterity and flourish, I twirled equipment in my hands, spun knives and placed chopping boards, diced, sliced, cut, simmered, fried, and let myself get completely lost in the creation process. I'd taken stock of their inventory, and taken stock of what I had available and decided to create whatever meal I could throw together and see what became of it.

Less than two minutes after I had begun my process, I became distinctively aware of the fact that I had an audience.

"Whoa…" Lucian whispered "Mom… either Zack's really good at cooking… or you seriously suck."

I heard the woman in question clear her throat. "Well then, maybe you'll ask Zack to pack your lunches from now on, hmm?"

"Uhh… forget I said anything."

I ignored the proud smirk that was threatening to spill out of my lips in exchange of giving more of a show, tossing up several vegetables and onions into the air, and then twirling the kitchen knife in my hand, bringing it down in a flash, and dicing it all up into exactly perfect cubes.

Naomi grumbled. "Okay… now you're just showing off."

I turned to the woman and grinned. "I don't know what you're talking about – this is just basic cooking – anyone can do it."

"Not mom – she usually cuts her finger once a month just trying to peel the onions." Lucian quipped. "And there are also a lot of tears involved. Blood, and tears, and sweat – a lot."

I saw her right eye twitch. "Lucian dear?"

"Yes mom?"

"I think I heard your sister get stuck in the bathroom again."

"Really? I don't think –"

"Go. Help. Your. Sister."

I snickered at the interaction, before I turned my attention back to the food – making sure to time it properly and ensure the proper richness of taste. Already, the entire house was filled with the rich aroma of spices and flavors – an aroma which I had actually forgot existed.

It was strange… for the longest time I'd been so focused on destroying the Justice League – believing it to be the way to attain some sort of satisfaction and pleasure in life, but in the process, I'd abandoned all the small things – even in a world as fake as this. Even the adventurers that had been stuck in SAO had stopped now and then to gaze at the scenery, enjoy a good meal or just sleep under the sunlight – and they were in a death game with a race against the clock.

Me?

There was no clock.

There was no deadline.

All of it was just self-imposed – and I'd sacrificed the minor comforts in life in some attempt to gain a perceived greater one.

Nezumi was right. I really needed this – didn't I?

"Okay, I have to ask – how in the world can you cook so good?"

"Well."

She rose an eyebrow.

"How can I cook so 'well'." I corrected.

She rolled her eyes. "Grammar Nazis – everywhere you go." She shook her head, smiling. "Alright, how in the world can you cook so well?"

"Practice mostly," I said with a shrug. "Spend hours at it every day, for several years, and you'll learn a thing or two. Cooking is basically the artistic form of chemistry anyway – so measuring spices, perceiving flavors, and watching how different components react together to a particular effect was easy for me." I tapped at my forehead and gave her a wink.

She folded her arms, leaning against a kitchen counter. "Super-intelligence?"

"Something like that."

"That's so cheating."

"You have no idea."

She laughed, and I couldn't help the smile which came up to my lips at that. As The Gamer, I was cheating – cheating in every way and every manner that counted, and using whatever methods I had to make sure I rose to the top. Somehow, now, at this moment, all of it felt so… irrelevant.

"So," Naomi began "Where have you been all these years?"

I put on my best Act and allowed the words to flow from my lips like they were the gospel truth. "I bounced around from foster home to foster home for a while, but I never stayed in one place too long. I couldn't… I guess. I lived on the streets for a while… I stole for a while… I got mixed up with some bad gangs here and there who wanted to use my talents… it… wasn't pretty."

"Oh – Isaac – I'm – I'm so sorry – I didn't know."

I gave a nonchalant shrug. "It's okay – you had your life to deal with and your problems – and I doubted you'd be the last person to take in a kid like me."

She frowned. "Isaac – I'm not –"

I rose one hand in surrender. "I wasn't implying anything." I wasn't calling you a pedophile. "I'm just saying, with your… past job, it wouldn't have been for the best."

I turned back to the meal, making sure it cooked properly.

"Besides, it's all for the best. Now, you're doing great, you have two nice kids, a great house, and a job…" I tethered off. "…Though… this house is kind of good… way too good for a Convenience store clerk's salary."

She gave an awkward laugh. "I kind of get that a lot." Her feet shuffled slightly. "You probably think I slept my way to get this house don't you?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well… you were thinking it."

"Actually I was thinking that you have some extra jobs on the side, or you got this house rather cheap, or it belonged to a relative and was inherited." I quipped dryly. "Not everything has to do with your past as a whore."

She cringed slightly, awkwardly rubbing her elbow. "Well, you were right about that. I work four jobs on alternating shifts, and this house did belong to someone – my boyfriend, Lucian and Evelyn's father."

I nodded, coming to an understanding.

"How'd he die?"

"Bank robbery," she said bitterly, "Intergang. He was a cashier at the bank when they showed up – and – and –"

"You don't have to tell me," I murmured. "If it's too much – to handle."

She smiled. "Thank you."

The sound of sizzling spices echoed softly in the room.

"So... you lived on the streets, and you stole for a while?"

I smirked. "Don't worry, I'm not going to burgle you."

She rose her hands "No - no, heavens no – that's not what I meant. I mean…" she hesitated "That lifestyle… it… it must have been hard, on you – being so young." She sighed. "You must have seen things and… done things…"

I rose an eyebrow, not sure where she was going with this.

"Evelyn and Lucian – they – they were outside, when the massacre happened. They saw a group of men – watched them die, their hearts –" she stopped. "I think it'll scar them. They tell me that they're fine but… but… you can't just watch someone's heart tear out of their chest and be fine!" she hissed.

Part of me, wondered, idly, what she'd do, if she knew I was the one responsible for that?

"I don't know whether I should take them for some sort of therapy or counselling or something – I don't even know if I can afford it – I'm not sure if doing it will help them or just make them push me away – so – I don't… I don't know." She took in a deep breath, rubbing her hands down her face. "They won't talk to me about it… but… even though they don't know you well enough – I think they like you – and you're much closer in age to them, so maybe – maybe you can help them?"

"Help them?" I repeated, "Help them how?"

"I don't know… just – listen to them – try to do stuff for them, or be an elder brother figure?" She paused, almost as though realizing what she was asking of me. "I-I'm sorry – pushing all of this on to you – I'm sure you have your own problems and issues to deal with and I'm just selfishly asking this of you –"

She took a seat, burying her hands into her face.

"They don't have any major male authority figures in their lives – and I try, I try my best – but I can't be that." She turned her gaze back to me. "Between my jobs taking up nearly all my time just so I can have enough money to pay the bills and buy groceries, and my past, I haven't even considered dating – and let's not even talk of getting married. Very few men would want to be a father to children that aren't his – so… they're missing something. Something important – and this is so selfish of me to ask but if you could just try to be that missing piece, or something close to it –"

What was I supposed to say? That she was asking the wrong person? That she had no clue as to the fact that she wanted a serial killer and murderer to be the responsible male adult in her children's lives?

"I'm not exactly 'role model' material." I said slowly "Putting me in charge of children would be the most questionable thing anyone can do. Aunt Pu – Naomi, I've done a lot of things… things that you possibly can't imagine."

Somehow, this only seemed to increase her determination.

"That's why you're the right choice," she stressed "You and me both know how dark and horrible this City is. We've both experienced the worst parts of it – but they – they don't know. They're not aware – and I don't know how I can preserve their innocence, and make them aware of the world's harsh realities at the same time."

She took in a deep breath, her voice dropping.

"I don't know how I can do it, without telling them what I was. Without making my own children look at me like I'm… filth."

I sighed. So much power at my fingertips – so much – and at this moment, there wasn't truly anything I could do that would solve her problem. Well, nothing short of giving her a hundred million at least, but even then, money wouldn't make the problem go away – it'd just make it vanish to the background in lieu of enough distractions.

Instinctively, I was aware that it didn't matter – her life, short as it was, would end sooner or later, her problems and fears and worries were worthless in a world where she was not the central character. All of it would be meaningless, and in the end, her soul would either be sent to this world's fictional heaven or hell – so, her problems and complains shouldn't bother me.

Except… it did.

She felt real. Right here, right now, in this moment – I was not looking at a fictional character –

I was looking at the woman who'd sat me on her lap as a child and taught me to read –

And she was pleading for my help.

What kind of monster would I be, to turn her down?

"Alright."

She looked up to me, eyes wide.

"Just call me… Uncle Zacky."

New Family Quest!

Quest Tree Unlocked!

The Things We Do For Love – Part I

A chance encounter with Aunty Purity aka Naomi Brooks – the stripper and prostitute from your earliest childhood, as brought about her desperate plea for help in taking care of her two children, and putting them on the right (or wrong) track of life.

It is up to your tender guiding hands to make sure they become successful, upstanding members of society, or perhaps, the most sociopathic, manipulative, deviant criminal minds ever witnessed by history.

Main Objectives:-

Good Path:

Comfort Lucian and Evelyn about their experiences with the Gotham City Massacre

Help them come to terms with any underlying issues

Explain to them the evil of the world, and how to be better than it

Evil Path:

Confront Lucian and Evelyn about what they saw and what they taught of it

Aid them in finding a method of 'release'

Show them the evil of the world, and how to master it for their benefit

Rewards:

Increased Closeness with the Brooks Family

Increased Reputation with the Brooks Family

Re-establishment of the Cabrera Crime Family

?

?

?

?

Failure

Death of Naomi, Lucian, and/or Evelyn Brooks

For once, I'd actually like a quest where the consequences of failure did not include death – but of course, things wouldn't be interesting if that were the case.

"Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

She barreled into me in a hug, and I let out a small frown. It would be beyond hypocritical of me to go for the good path, my hands, as they were, were stained with blood, and my very soul was an instrument of suffering – or something emo like that.

She was essentially thanking me for turning her children into deadly criminals and monsters of society –

She just didn't know it yet.