My World My Justice Ch.24

The otaku girl couldn't resist

I arrive at Oracle's apartment through the portal with more fast food from my fridge—which turns out to be ramen. Not those small instant ramen cups, but the big bowls that look like they'd feed more than one person per serving. I haven't seen instant ramen in any shop in the city, so it's safe to assume the shut-in must be missing this particular dish.

Which turns out to be exactly the right call, because Futaba practically bounces off the walls when she notices what I've brought.

"Oh my god, REAL ramen!" she squeals, dropping her controller mid-game and rushing over to grab the bags. "You beautiful, hammy bastard, I could kiss you right now!"

And she makes good on her words, jumping up with her arms wrapping around my neck and planting a loud kiss on my cheek before letting go and dropping back down.

Not wasting a second, she snatches the bag and sprints to the kitchen table, setting the bowls out with religious reverence. Then she rushes toward an electric kettle, which she takes off its stand.

However, once she partially lifts the lid of one of the bowls, she squeals again.

"YES! This isn't just 'pour boiling water and wait,'" she explains rapidly, tearing open what seems like dozens of small packets. "Oh man, this has your flavor base, your dried vegetables, your meat packets, your special seasoning oils..." She makes quick work of all the packets and then finally pours the boiling water. "Each bowl gets sealed and has to sit for exactly ten minutes before stirring, or you ruin the texture."

She definitely has experience with this, which makes sense since she is a shut-in.

Futaba proceeds to do the same with the other bowl before beckoning me to join her at the table.

We sit on opposite ends of the small table, the sealed bowls steaming as she brings out big spoons and places them next to each bowl.

Only then does she take a seat. But that's when Futaba clasps her hands together with a devilish grin.

"So, do you scream about ‘justice this’ or ‘justice that’ when having sex?"

I choke on my own saliva, my eyes going wide as I stare at her.

Who the hell starts a conversation like that?! I literally just sat down!

"Like, I know you can't speak normally anymore and you're always doing this really cool hammy justice theme," she continues, completely unbothered by my reaction. "So I was just thinking—if you were having sex, would you say 'I'm cumming' or would it be 'JUSTICE TIME'? Or maybe 'JUSTICEHAMMER' instead of jackhammer?" She leans forward with growing excitement. "And can you even moan normally, or you do something like... ju-ju-ju-ju-ju-JUSTICE!"

I just blink once.

Christ, this girl has no filter whatsoever.

The otaku then bursts into laughter, holding her stomach and nearly tipping off her chair. "Come on, you must have thought about it at least once! My question is totally legit!"

I continue staring at her with that same dry, unimpressed look.

"What? I'm being, uh... scientifically curious here!" she protests, still giggling. "Besides, think about it! Would you have to shout 'Behold! The mighty sword of justice rises!' when you get hard?"

I hate that this is actually making me think about it. 

I pull out my phone and type. 'I hate you.'

"Aha! So you HAVE thought about it!" she says triumphantly, pointing at me with a chopstick she's somehow acquired. "I knew it!"

She leans forward. "But seriously, what happens during the climax? When you finish? Do you announce something like 'justice filling!' or 'righteous baby juice!' I mean, the possibilities are endless!"

‘You done?’

"Oh no, we're just getting started!" She grins wickedly. "I've been thinking about this for a long while. Like, what about raunchy talk? 'Prepare yourself for my lance of liberty!' or 'feel the uh… burning passion of my justice filling your lawful chambers !'"

And she ends up bursting into laughter again.

'You must have been the troublemaker in the past.'

"That's what makes me so charming!" she chirps, completely unbothered. "But come on, you have to admit the mental image is hilarious. Some poor woman is all happy and bashful on the bed getting all hot and ready and instead getting a full cringe superhero monologuing while fucking."

I put my head in my hands, already regretting my decision to be nice to people.

"Oh, and foreplay!" she continues with obvious delight, getting more animated by the second. "Would you have to be like 'I shall explore your uh…. sacred hole of virtue!' or 'Tongue of justice!'"

And she laughs again, practically bouncing in her seat now and having the time of her life.

I roll my eyes so hard I'm surprised they don't fall out of my head.

"Aw, don't be such a prude! We're both adults here!" She's cackling now, the sound filling her small apartment. "Besides, you brought me ramen. The least I can do is entertain you a little."

She checks the timer on her phone. "Oh, and I haven't even gotten to the really good stuff yet. Like, what happens when you're trying to do the whole dating sim? 'Oh my fair maiden, there is no justice without you!' I bet you'd accidentally make it sound like those exaggerated medieval courtship rituals."

I don’t think I would actually say that and…. Oh no, I not playing her game.

'Next time I will bring the food ready.'

"Bold of you to assume I won't just come up with new ways to mess with you," she says, pressing her fingertips together. "I've got a whole l list of things I've been curious about! Like, do you think your speech thing affects other involuntary sounds too? Sneezing? Hiccups? What about when you stub your toe—do you have to yell 'Curse this villainous furniture!' instead of just saying 'ow'?"

‘My body is indestructible, so I won’t feel that curse anymore.’

“Bummers.”

She pauses, then tilts her head with mock innocence. "Oh! What about when you're sick?"

‘Body defenses and Everlasting talent, immune to virtually any sort of disease.’

"Right, company perks damn….Fine, fine, I'll ease up," she says, though her grin suggests otherwise. "The ramen should be ready pretty soon anyway. But just so you know, I'm definitely bringing this up again later. It's too good material not to revisit."

She leans back in her chair, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "Besides, someone needs to ask the important questions here."

And that’s when the timer goes off, and Futaba immediately perks up like a cat.

"Finally! Ramen time!" She rubs her hands together. "And don't think this conversation is over just because we're eating. I've got at least twelve more scenarios I want to run by you."

'Of course you do.'

"That's the spirit! See, you're already getting into it."

No. No, I'm really not.

But as she carefully opens the first bowl and the rich aroma fills the apartment, I have to admit it smells really good for a ramen, almost bless the company.

Almost.

That's when Futaba claps her hands together pretty loud.

"Itadakimasu!"

And she dives straight into her ramen, slurping the noodles with chopsticks she somehow already had ready.

In my case, I grab my bowl with one hand, feeling the heat radiating through the thick plastic. Screw the spoon—I lift it to my lips and drink directly from the bowl. The broth hits my tongue and... holy shit. This is seriously amazing. Rich, complex, with layers of flavor that actually make my taste buds sit up and pay attention.

The veggies and meat have that perfect texture too—not mushy like most instant stuff, but with actual substance to them.

Overall, it was really good.

After a while, we both put down our bowls and let out synchronized sighs of satisfaction.

"I really missed that," The otaku girl says, leaning back in her chair with a content smile and pats her stomach once. "Thanks, Daniel. Seriously."

I nod, still savoring the lingering taste. That was genuinely good ramen—way better than anything I expected from instant food.

So I pick up my phone. 'You used to eat this a lot?'

"Yep. Used to have my own stash in my room back home," she confirms, twirling a remaining noodle around her chopsticks. "And while I've got my own supply of new fast food and snacks here, it just doesn't compare. The fairy feast thing kinda ruined my taste buds for a lot of regular stuff."

I can tell. That company perk is practically addictive.

She slurps the last of the noodles and wipes her mouth with her sleeve. "Also, you know Japan totally sucks on Earth Bet, which just really sucks in general. You know the whole world's gone to hell, but that's why we're here, right? To try fixing this big mess and hope it doesn't get even worse."

There's a note of genuine sadness in her voice when she mentions that. Can't really blame her.

'So what about the plan with Lung?'

"Oh, that!" She perks up immediately, pushing her glasses up her nose. "It was going really well until you decided to drop Twice on me and I had to focus on dealing with that first so we don't lose the city."

Right. I don't know exactly what this girl did, but the PRT acted like she predicted—they were quick to accept the guy and fast-track everything to hire him so he is pretty content with his new job, so maybe he got a happy ending?

"Yeah, that was still super important and cool beans and all that, but there's always something that comes up to delay things." She waves her chopsticks dismissively. "Which is why I've got some new help lined up, so it should smooth things over. Have faith that in less than a week we can finally set our plan into motion."

'Extra help?'

"Secret!" She makes a zipping motion across her lips with a smirk.

She must have her reasons. Though knowing her, it's probably something either brilliant or completely insane. Maybe both.

"Oh, by the way," she continues, suddenly looking excited again, "I saw your new merch line. Pretty sick stuff, dude."

I blink in confusion.

"I already pre-ordered your action figure since the first batch sold out in like, less than an hour," she adds proudly, puffing out her chest. "Praise me for being such an amazing supporter and teammate!"

'Sold out?' I write.

I mean, I remember doing those voice recordings for those corpo guys weeks ago. But it seems way too soon for them to already have action figures manufactured and selling in the stores.

"Duh! You're like, the number one hero in Brockton Bay by now—if that's not the case, then the rankings are totally rigged." She pulls out her phone and starts swiping through screens. "Look, they've got the whole line—action figures, t-shirts, posters, even wallpapers. Oh, and get this—there's a workout DVD called 'Aerobic Justice.' I had no idea you were such a good fitness instructor!"

I mean, it was thanks to the fitness instructor who showed me the routine.

She shows me the screen, and sure enough, there's a plastic version of me in my costume, complete with an exaggerated heroic pose. The figure quality looks surprisingly amazing, and the price is actually reasonable—way more affordable compared to other action figures of similar quality that I remember going for hundreds of dollars.

"The action figures are surprisingly high quality too," she continues, zooming in on the details. "And since you're very family-friendly, a lot of the merch is aimed at kids, which is a pretty smart business move. Little Jimmy can now pretend to fight crime while his mom does aerobics to your justice workout routine." She grins wickedly. "Soon we'll have kids running around with toy versions of your fists, roaring and pretending to punch bad guys. Waaaa, Justice smash!"

I don't know whether to be horrified or proud of that mental image. More kids acting like Taylor? Well, as long as they are happy I will be happy.

"La Doña's marketing team is really good at this stuff, but of course they would be since it's led by Contessa and Alexandria. It would've been a real shocker if they couldn't make it successful. You're basically their golden goose for promoting heroes everywhere, especially independents." She grins even wider. "Speaking of which, when's the last time you checked your personal bank account? The real one, not your company contractor balance."

I pause mid-type. Bank account? I honestly haven't looked at it since... well, since before all this hero business started. There wasn't much point when I was barely scraping by as a skinny high schooler.

"Oh my GOD, you haven't checked, have you?" Futaba cackles, nearly falling off her chair. "Dude, you might actually be loaded now thanks to the royalties and not even know it! That's so perfectly you—too busy being all noble and justice-y to notice you're making bank off kids wanting to be like their favorite hammy hero."

She leans forward, slamming both hands on the table with excitement. "Seriously, go check right now. I bet you've got enough money to buy a house. Maybe two houses!"

The thought honestly hadn't occurred to me. I've been so focused on earning enough credits to pay off that stupid loan and handling hero duties that I completely forgot about royalties and licensing fees. Besides, I had a lot of money in that virtual wallet in my phone hence I never checked the bank account.

"The social media are absolutely loving the merch too," she continues, scrolling through comments on her phone. "Especially the parents—their kids are way happier and more active than before. One mom said her five-year-old now announces 'JUSTICE TIME!' every time he uses the bathroom.'"

I don’t know how to feel about that, no, better said why did she have to tell me about it?

"Hey, don't look so bummed! This is totally awesome!" Futaba says, completely misreading my reaction. "You've made it to the big leagues when they start mass-producing your catchphrases. Plus, think of all the good you're doing—inspiring the next generation! This is really solid long-term planning. Who knows, maybe we'll inspire some potential bad guys before they turn full villain and gain one more ally. I mean, we got Twice, right? Maybe we are extremely lucky and turn one of the current big baddies to our side!" 

She pauses, tapping her temple with one finger thoughtfully. Then she freezes, slowly looks at me, and that devilish grin curls across her lips again.

I have a feeling what she wants to say.

"Besides, I can't wait to see what they do to start a sex toy line or videos. 'Justice: After Dark Edition' featuring all your righteous spunk. A LOT of heroines would totally jump at the chance to—"

I hardly make the zip gesture.

"Come on, admit it," she says, rubbing her hands together in a very scheming way. "Part of you is at least a little curious about how that would work, right? The cape porno industry is a real moneymaker, although most of the pornstars aren’t actually the capes but doubles."

And we're right back to square one. I should have seen that coming from a mile away.

Damn it, Futaba. I thought you were just a shut-in otaku gamer girl, not a full-on pervert too.

Wait a minute…

'Are you trying to seduce me into being a full on degenerate gamer girl?'

"Maaaaaybe?” She grins, pushing her chin up with one finger. "Still, someone has to ask the important questions! You must know by now you have some hot capes that are totally into you?"

I stare at her with the most deadpan expression. Because I know that, but I simply don’t fucking even know how to try anything with this crippling cape speech.

'I'm never bringing you food again.'

"Yes, you will," she says confidently. "Besides I’m probably the only person you can be just you instead of this crazy big guy screaming justice from atop of his lungs."

...She's not entirely wrong about that, which is irritating. Ugh, I'm really tempted to use that consumable to get one day as a relatively normal person again. Just to see what it feels like to have a conversation without every word coming out like I'm an old corny cartoon.

"Plus," she adds with a sly grin, "I still need to raise your affection level so I can finally join your party and get all my cool powers back!"

Right. Good luck with that, girl. I'm rooting for you, but you've got your work cut out for you.

'Have you learned anything new?'

"Nope!" she says immediately, then pauses as her face twists into a slight frown. "Okay, yes, some kinda important stuff, but mostly just confirmation of things that were already worrying me."

She fidgets in her seat a little before taking a deep breath. "Coil's back, though he's sticking to his civilian identity for now. I'm keeping a close eye on that slimy snake—you can't just ignore someone like that when he's got timeline shenanigans. At least Jin is pretty much safe and away from danger. Even got a secret tracker on him, just in case anyone tries to grab him."

She scratches her head with a frustrated groan. "Problem is, I still don't know what Coil might be planning right now, or if he's finally figured out a way to bypass or work around that blank spot you create in his power. That's the scary part about dealing with precogs or timeline simulators you never know when they've found a workaround."

Before I can respond, a phone rings. Futaba pulls out another device from her jacket pocket and reads the screen. Her expression immediately shifts to concern.

"Hookwolf disappeared," she says, looking up at me with a frown.

'What?'

"Hookwolf disappeared, or more like he was taken. There isn't any explicit evidence, but according to my contact, all that's known is a strange portal opening and a massive hand just... yanking him away. It definitely wasn't Magik, otherwise the Empire would be celebrating and rallying instead of cowering in their hidey-holes."

I frown at first, processing the information, but then my eyes widen in realization.

"Fear not, my dear friend!" I declare very loud. "The forces of evil did not escape to threaten justice once more!"

She blinks at me, clearly confused. "Uh... what now?"

At least I got her attention. 'He didn't escape if that's what's worrying you. He was taken by the company.'

"Wait, what?" she repeats, looking genuinely confused. "I thought you couldn't stamp or bite anybody to start a capture process."

'Company mission. There was a note about the capture and sale of Hookwolf after I beat him.' I shrug casually. 'Very unlucky timing for him.'

"Oh, so that psycho's gone forever?" 

I nod.

"Mmm, good riddance," she says with obvious satisfaction, leaning back in her chair. "One less Nazi to worry about. I was getting a little paranoid that the Gesellschaft might try something and spring both Stormtiger and Hookwolf at some point in the future."

I shrug. Honestly, I don't particularly care what happens to Hookwolf now. The guy was a murderous bastard who liquified people for fun. Whatever the company does with him, he's earned it a thousand times over. 

She pauses, then grins wickedly. "Plus, imagine the morale hit. Their big scary blender-man got casually yoinked by some mysterious force right out of prison. That's gotta mess with their heads."

"Anyway," she continues, checking her phone again and clearly deciding to move on, "why don't you check your bank balance now? Come on, I wanna see that number. I bet it's absolutely ridiculous."

I roll my eyes. Of course she'd be this excited about my potential financial situation.

"But seriously though," Futaba adds, suddenly looking more serious, "it's actually kinda important because you need to file your taxes."

I freeze mid-eye-roll.

Wait. What?!

-----------------------------------------------------

I'm walking through the streets of the city, looking for small ways to help people. So far, I've helped an elderly woman carry her groceries, retrieved a frisbee that got stuck on a fire escape, and assisted a shop owner with moving some heavy boxes. Normal, grounded work, but I'll repeat it once more; justice isn't just about punching bad guys in the face.

Well, mostly not just about punching bad guys.

And yes, I did check my bank account. Turns out I'm officially a millionaire now. Multiple times over, actually. And that's not even counting the balance I have on my phone wallet thanks to the company missions.

Which means, according to the otaku girl, I need to hire an accountant immediately, because I sure as hell have zero idea how to fill out tax forms or calculate all that financial bullshit. The last thing I need is the IRS coming after me while I'm trying to save the city.

However, Futaba had some solid suggestions about what to do with the money and the future loads of them, though. She recommended using it to start some small welfare programs or a charity with my image to help people. Even suggested creating a fund specifically to help other heroes dealing with medical bills, since healers are extremely rare and heroics definitely don't pay.

I mean, Mirko got pretty pissed at me because of the medical bill she got hit with after I dropped her at the PRT HQ. Although she didn't hold a grudge about it afterward.

Not a bad idea, honestly. I'd need experts and actual competent people to help me run something like that, though, because all I can really contribute is my persona and the cash.

"Come on, big boy! There's justice to spread!" shouts Mouse Protector as she pats my head from her perch on my shoulder. She actually fits there pretty well since I'm massive in comparison to her small frame.

Yeah, she just appeared out of nowhere about ten minutes ago and decided to tag along. This time there's no dramatic team-up against a major villain, so thankfully no need for coordinated cheesy one-liners.

Pun totally intended.

"My crime senses are tingling!" she suddenly shouts, tapping my head again to get my attention. She points dramatically down the street. "That way, my noble steed of righteousness!"

I follow her gesture and indeed spot a crime in progress. Some guy is trying to carjack a vehicle in broad daylight. He must be either blind, desperate, or just completely stupid, because he's doing it right in the middle of an open street with witnesses around who seem to be calling the police.

"Behold!" I boom, my voice carrying across the street. "A misguided citizen commits a grave transgression against the innocent! Your keen sight pierces through the veil of villainy, my fellow champion of justice!"

"Hehehe, this is gonna be gouda!" Mouse Protector says, practically bouncing on my shoulder with excitement. "Come on, big boy! Throw me into action! Time to make this criminal swiss he'd never been born!"

I understand immediately. Extending my arm, I watch as she shows off her agility by easily jumping onto my forearm and crouching in my open palm, getting into position like she's done this a thousand times before.

I start preparing for the throw, pulling my arm back while she balances perfectly in my hand and forearm.

"JUSTICE SPECIAL!" I shout the new made up move.

"CHEDDAR BOMBARDMENT!" Mouse Protector shouts in response.

And I launch Mouse Protector through the air. She flies in a perfect arc,laughing all the way as she rockets toward our target.

The would-be carjacker doesn't get enough time to do more than look up in confusion before the heroine lands on him with a flying kick that connects perfectly with his jaw, dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

A perfect knockout hit. The guy goes down and stays down.

"And another criminal gets his just desserts!" Mouse Protector declares triumphantly, raising her fist in victory while standing over the unconscious criminal. "That's what I call a grade-A beatdown! No holes in that justice!"

I have to admit, that was fast. The whole thing took less than a minute.

"Magnificent work, valiant warrior of righteousness!" I call out as I approach her, thumping my chest with genuine pride. "You stoke the fires of righteousness!"

The car owner, a middle-aged woman who'd been frozen in shock during the attempted carjacking, finally snaps out of it and starts thanking us profusely. A small crowd has already started gathering around us, and I can see at least three people holding up phones to record the whole interaction.

Which is pretty expected at this point. Everything we do ends up online within minutes.

Mouse Protector runs over to close the distance between us and laughs with genuine delight. "See? This is why we make such a grate team! We're like the perfect recipe for justice!"

"Indeed!" I respond, striking a heroic flexing pose for the gathering cameras. "Together, we shall ensure that no evildoer escapes the swift and righteous hammer of justice!"

The crowd seems to love it, with several people cheering and applauding our performance.

"Huzzah! Can we do it again?" Mouse Protector asks eagerly. " Maybe add some spinning next time? Ooh, or I could try a double flip before the landing!"

I glance around the street, scanning for any other signs of trouble. Knowing Brockton Bay, we probably won't have to wait long for another opportunity. But for anything really exciting, we'd need to head to a much more isolated and dangerous part of the city.

"Fear not, friend!" I declare. "Should villainy rear its ugly head once more, we shall be ready to deliver another delicious serving our justice!"

"With extra cheese on top!" Mouse Protector adds extending a fist.

Which I promptly gave her a heroic fist bump.

-------------------------------------------------------

-Victoria Dallon, Glorygirl-

Victoria savored the rare moment of normalcy as she sat across from Dean in their favorite coffee shop. They desperately needed this—a real date, not just stolen moments between patrols and crises. Seeing Dean back to his cheerful self after the whole Toiletnator debacle made her quite happy too.

"So Mrs. Henderson is still giving you grief about that history essay?" Dean asked, taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

"You have no idea," Victoria groaned, gesturing with her cup. 

"To be fair, nobody likes history," Dean chuckled, that warm smile she'd missed so much finally back in full force.

"True." Victoria protested, but she was grinning too.

Yet their moment of peace shattered as the coffee shop door burst open with enough force to rattle the bell above it.

"I HAVE BEEN SUMMMMMONEEEED!" a squeaky, high-pitched voice announced an arrival, a very unwelcome arrival.

Both teens whipped their heads toward the entrance to see the unmistakable figure of the Toiletnator. It was impossible to mistake anyone else for the cape who wore a giant toilet paper roll as a helmet, complete with the toilet seat and single wide sheets that fluttered dramatically behind him.

"Oh, come ON," Victoria muttered under her breath, already starting to rise from her chair to deal with this nuisance.

Dean's smile vanished entirely, replaced by that haunted, defeated expression that she knew from weeks ago. Before she could fully stand, his hand caught her wrist with a gentle but surprisingly firm grip. And he shook his head slowly.

"Dean, what—?"

The barista, a college-aged girl with pink streaks in her hair and multiple piercings, barely looked up from cleaning the espresso machine. She simply pointed toward the back with her thumb. "Bathroom's over there, hon."

"YEEESSS! THE SACRED CHAMBER CALLS TO MEEE!" The Toiletnator pulled out a pristine plunger, raising it above his head with both hands. "Prepare yourselves,  for your reckoning approaaaches!"

He charged straight toward the restroom. Before disappearing inside, he carefully hung a laminated "Deep Cleaning in Progress - Premium Four-Ply Installation Underway" sign on the door handle.

Not a single other patron bothered to turn their head. The soft jazz continued its mellow rhythm. Someone's laptop kept clicking away. A businessman reading the newspaper.

"Dean, what the hell?" Victoria hissed, still half-standing.

"It's not worth it anymore," Dean said. "Just... let it go. I'll file a report later."

Victoria stared at him.. "We should still stay and make sure nothing bad happens." 

Dean ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply. "Okay. But we're not engaging unless someone's actually in danger."

So they sat there, their romantic coffee date transformed into the world's most absurd stakeout. Victoria checked her phone obsessively. Dean stirred his coffee.

Thirty-seven minutes crawled by.

Finally, the bathroom door was kicked open.. "HA! Another glorious victory for the mighty Toiletnator!"

Victoria craned her neck to peer past the dramatic figure and blinked in confusion. Because the sight was the same from that other time as well. The bathroom looked squeaky clean, and from her seat she could smell the lemon scent.

"He just..." Victoria started, her voice flat with disbelief. "He literally just cleaned a bathroom. Again."

The barista, maintaining the same bored expression she'd worn throughout the entire ordeal, caught the Toiletnator's attention and handed him a cup of coffee.

"AWWW! You didn't have to, but thanks!" 

What?

The idiotic villain accepted the cup, practically bouncing on his toes. 

And then—Victoria had to rub her eyes to make sure she wasn't hallucinating—he actually skipped out of the coffee shop, bouncing with every step like an overgrown child who'd just been told Christmas was coming early.

Victoria stared after him, her mouth slightly agape, trying to process what she'd just witnessed. "What the actual hell was that?"

Dean slumped back in his chair, looking like he'd aged a year in the span of an hour. "I don’t know either."

-------------------------------------------------------

-Daniel, True Might-

I easily restrain a group of thugs with a bent metal tube—Merchant druggies who were so high they thought driving recklessly through downtown was a brilliant idea. They even almost hit a teenager crossing the street if I hadn't been around to intervene. They barely put up a fight, just kept pointlessly emptying their magazines at me while I casually wrapped them up like Christmas presents. The bullets bounce off harmlessly, of course.

After calling the police to pick up the idiots, I continue on my actual mission.

Oracle had been sending other capes to deal with various Merchant operations throughout the week, but now it's my turn. She told me she'd gathered enough intel to pinpoint a storage building for their drug operations that needs busting, so I'm en route. Walking this time, not bunny-hopping like I usually do when I'm in a hurry.

I take the opportunity to really observe the area as I move through it. The whole neighborhood is pretty run-down, just like the first time I walked through these streets months ago. Some community investment could definitely help deter people from joining gangs, though it would probably only affect a small percentage since some people are just genuinely shitty—and this is Earth Bet, where everything's worse. Still, every person we can keep out of the gangs is a win in chipping away at their foundation.

I should definitely talk with Futaba again to iron out the details about those charity ideas. She seemed to have some solid thoughts on implementation and maybe connections to help pick the right people to run things.

I keep walking until I reach the target; a two-story building that looks like it's seen better decades. Probably better centuries, honestly. The surrounding streets are completely empty, not even lookouts stationed outside to keep watch like the Empire had when I hit their storages. So either the Merchants don't give a shit about security, or they're all inside getting high off their own supply. 

Knowing the kind of people they are, probably both.

I walk up to the entrance, which is just a plain wooden door that's accumulated years of neglect.

Heroic entrance or normal entrance?

Who am I kidding? Heroic entrance all the way.

I cock my fist back and easily shatter the door into splinters with one solid punch. "JUSTICE HAS ARRIVED!"

Instantly, multiple pairs of bloodshot eyes snap in my direction like startled rats caught in a flashlight beam.

We all just stare at each other for a moment. And the smell is totally disgusting, so this isn’t just a place to store or maybe produce drugs but a crackhouse as well.

Then a very short, messy woman with long dreadlocks wearing tattered overalls throws her hands up in immediate surrender. "Nope, not doing this shit today. Skidmark can eat a bag of dicks for all I care."

And just like that, everyone inside either bolts for the back exits or quickly drops to their knees with their hands up in surrender following their short leader steps.

Huh. That's surprisingly convenient.

I guess people have learned their lesson about fighting someone like me. Can't say I'm complaining—makes everything a lot easier when criminals develop some basic survival instincts.

"Fear not, misguided citizens!" I boom to the surrendering Merchants, even though calling them citizens feels extremely generous. "Justice is merciful to those who choose the righteous path of redemption!"

Straight to jail, obviously, but the speech sounds better this way.

The woman with the dreads moves her hands to push aside her long, messy hair and just stares at me with tired resignation. "Dude, we're just gonna sit here quietly, so no need to bullshit us. And the drugs are in the basement, by the way."

Everyone around her frantically nods their heads in agreement, like they're all eager to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Oh. Well, that's... refreshingly honest, I guess.

"Look, big guy, we all saw what you did to Hookwolf and Stormfront. Just... do your justice thing and let's get this over with."

Fair enough. At least they're being practical about it.