Chapter 84: Hercules And Gilgamesh #84

'Well... that was fun for about 10 seconds...' I mused, frowning as I watched the ridiculously dressed mercenary repeatedly opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

'This is why I fucking hate it here...' I sighed as I stood up and kicked the mercenary on the forehead, immediately knocking him out and putting him out of his misery.

And here I was prepared to test the mercenary's limits to see how far I could go before he broke. I even prepared the pink dynamite stack I removed from the family to rub it in his face.

The entirety of DC comics (outside of major events) was one shit show put on an endless loop. Most of, if not all encounters between heroes and villains were all the same.

The stronger the hero, the more the villains who use the good-old do as I say, or I'll blow a bunch of people tactic showed up, like flies having a rave party at a dumpster.

How else would the comic writers make that one powerless villain seem impressive while emphasizing his intellect and ruthlessness when facing Superman or any other ridiculously overpowered Justice League member?

It makes sense if you think about it. How would any of the countless metropolis street thugs stand a chance against Superman and the other Kryptonians patrolling the streets 24/7?

They wouldn't. So what's a simple, god-fearing street thug to do? Take hostages to threaten the man of steel or any other softhearted, jacked-up alien/god, and it works every gad-damned time, well almost works anyway.

The heroes would eventually find a way to save the hostages and send the evil doer to jail, but only after a struggle, creating the illusion that taking hostages might actually work.

And what happens when someone doesn't fall for that reliable, tried, never failing trick? What happens when someone refuses to humor the supposedly oh-so-cunning villain?

As you can see, the supposedly intelligent, ruthless villain with a million and one plan suddenly suffers a mental meltdown.

I could have taken Flamingo out without him knowing I was there before he could take out the detonator. I could have killed him in so many ways before he could even try to press the button, and if I could do it, why can't heroes more powerful than me do the same?

Because it would be fucking boring, that's why! No one would want to read anything about some god who can solve all his problems in the blink of an eye, even if he's capable of doing just that.

No one relates to a perfect, self-righteous prick of an invincible god, who can bulldoze through all opposition. That's why Hercules is part of almost everyone's childhood and why no one gives two shits about Gilgamesh.

One is a childhood hero, and the other is an edge lord that only, weebs, mythology geeks, and people from fucking Iraq would know about, convinced yet?

"You can come out. I know you're there," I exclaimed, sighing as I turned to a dark corner of the empty construction site and received a chuckle as Nightwing emerged from the shadow.

"Was all of that necessary? Kind of felt like a personal attack..." Nightwing said, his tone amused as he slowly approached me, his gaze alternating between me and the unconscious mercenary.

"If the shoe fits, take it for a run..." I replied as I turned to face Bludhaven's protector and Batman's former sidekick. "Don't you have more important things to do?" I asked, crossing my arms in front of my chest as Nightwing stopped before me.

"Matter of fact, I do; cleaning the streets that are crawling with mercenaries and thugs out for your blood," Nightwing asked, raising an eyebrow as he copied me and crossed his arms.

"And you're doing a pretty shit job by the looks of things," I replied with a snort as I took out the pink stack of dynamite from my inventory, shoving it into Nightwing's chest before I turned to leave.

Huh, so it did come in handy after all.

"You know, for someone who's only been a crime fighter for barely a month, you're surprisingly good at it," Nightwing said as he quickly caught up with me, seemingly unoffended by my remark.

"It's not that I'm good at it. The bar is just so low with you people that what I did looks impressive," I replied with a shrug as I kept walking without bothering to turn to Nightwing.

"You people?" Nightwing asked, raising an eyebrow and halting his steps as he stared at me while I kept walking away with a hard-to-read expression.

"Heroes, vigilantes, capes, masochists, self-righteous pricks, whatever you call yourselves," I replied with no intention of continuing the conversation, activating my phantom belt and disappearing before Nightwing could say or do anything.

...

Gotham City Park

"You worry too much, Richard," Benjamin said with a smile as he leaned on a tree, watching his old friend pace in circles, seemingly anxious about something.

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The martial arts teacher had been in a constant state of worry for the past three days since he learned about the price on his student's head and the ever-increasing number of mercenaries flooding Gotham to claim it.

"You know what the kid can do..." Ben added after seeing that his words did not affect Richard. "Heck, the only reason he hasn't kicked your ass in a spar yet is that he's always holding back unconsciously," he added, stroking his bald head as he heaved a sigh.

"You know as well as I do what those shit-eating mercenaries are capable of, old friend," Richard said with a heavy sigh as he stopped pacing and turned to his friend, giving him a bitter look.

"You and I took down our fare of share of motherfuckers we had no business beating," he added, shaking his head with a grim expression that was clearly unconvinced.

"Don't compare the kid to those brainless brutes. You trained him yourself; you know better," Benjamin replied with a grin as he stood up and approached Richard. 

"Besides, you said it yourself the kid has an impeccable survival instinct. He'll be fine. You need to trust him," Benjamin added as he patted his old friend's shoulder, causing the latter to sigh.

Richard looked like he had a retort, but the ringing from his pocket caused him to swallow his words as he fished it out, already knowing who was calling as he only had the numbers of two people, and one of them was standing before him.

"Gray... Are you alright?" Richard said as he picked up the call and put the phone to his ear. "Where have you been...? What? You just found out...?" he remarked, sighing and rubbing his forehead in frustration.

"What are you going to do about it?" Richard inquired after several seconds of silently listening to what his student was up to in the past few days.

"Smart. Take care of the disease, and the symptoms will dissipate on their own..." Richard remarked, nodding in approval as he heard Gray's plan. "I don't need to tell you that some people will think ahead..." he cautioned, his tone turning firm.

"What do you mean, that's not all? That's— are you sure?" Richard said, his expression slowly changing to show surprise. "Who are you, and what have you done to my student...?" he jokingly asked, bitterly smiling, much to Benjamin's confusion.

"Fine, do what you think is best. I'll see you later, then," Richard concluded as he ended the call and turned to Ben with a hard-to-read expression on his face.

...

Gotham's East End

"There you are, you a piece of shit..." I muttered as I opened my eyes, having found Black Mask's exact location with my personal computer power and a bit of hacking.

If this were a movie, then this is the part where you'd see a montage showing me viciously beating up one or multiple thugs in one or numerous settings while asking them where is Black Mask in a hoarse, gravelly voice.

Though that would be fun, it would also be terribly inefficient and a pain in the ass. Why would you go around beating thugs when you can just hax your way into what you want much more quickly?

But you might be wondering what I'll do now that I have Black Mask's whereabouts, and the answer is quite simple, really.

I'll fuck him up since this whole mess started with him, then I'll take him somewhere very special to make sure nothing like this ever happens again.

Now that I think about it, the plan might not be so simple.

Black Mask was the one who put a price on my head, but sending him to prison or even killing him might not necessarily solve the problem because if Black Mask can put a bounty on my head, then what's to stop other people?

The answer is nothing. Nothing is stopping anyone from putting a bounty on my head.

But will anyone be willing to take the bounty on my head once I finish what I have in mind?

I guess you'll just have to wait and see.

---

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