Chapter 9: Home, Sweet Home #9

[+1 level to the Crime skill] [Crime 20]

[+1 level the Thief class] [Thief 10]

[New Class available. Chose a new class now? Yes/No]

[quest completed: Get Rich Or Die Trying (Literally)]

...

Get Rich Or Die Trying (literally):

Money makes the world go round. You want it; you need it. Go for it.

Requirement: Gather $1000 through any means.

Rewards: [Random equipment] [+5 levels to the crime skill]

Progress: $1034/$1000

...

[Receive quest rewards now? Yes/No]

Looking at the notifications filling up my vision, I couldn't help but grin as I moved the wallet I'd just stolen from my pocket into my inventory after emptying it of its contents.

However, my good mood instantly soured as I saw a dark alley to my left and began looking around, expecting a supervillain or an angry mobster to come out of nowhere and ruin my day.

I've been thinking about my failures, and I noticed a pattern; whenever I'm about to finish the money quest, I'd walk into an alley, and things would immediately turn to shit. So, in my infinite wisdom, I've wisely decided to break the cycle and start avoiding alleys.

And I've been doing just fine while avoiding any form of alleys, dark and dingy or otherwise, which only proves my point; alleyways are pure evil and the source of all my trouble, especially the dark, dirty ones.

Yes, I am blaming my rotten luck on all dark alleys in Gotham, and yes, I realize that I might be suffering from dark alley PTSD. I didn't care one bit, though. Alleyways are evil, and that's that, moving on.

It's been 15 days since my last encounter with the homeless man (note to self: ask his fucking name next time we meet), and I've been frenziedly pickpocketing people's wallets to complete the money quest while continuing my training.

It took me this long to complete the money quest because I was only stealing cash, as I didn't want to go back to Old Jack's to sell jewelry since the gangster could have told his gang friends about me. I already had my fill of those. Let me tell you, if I never saw another gangster, it would still be too soon.

I, of course, could have finished the money quest much earlier since I made up for not stealing jewelry by stealing more often, but I decided to stop obsessing about it and moved out of Logan's apartment.

I had to pay $600 for two months' rent in advance in cash, plus $100 so the landlord wouldn't ask any questions, and the apartment was barely an upgrade over Logan's own. But it was all mine and in a safer spot in the midtown near the park.

I also didn't need to look at Logan's ugly face or get blue-balled by prostitutes who didn't know how to keep their hands to themselves and didn't give two shits that I was technically a minor every time I walked in or out of my apartment complex. Because, as it turns out, I was very susceptible to being blue-balled by prostitutes.

And oh my god, I think I just discovered my personal kryptonite. I only hope it doesn't have any weird variety like pink kryptonite, which would make me gay like superman. That would suck.

All jokes and my thieving activities aside, my training went just as well and slowly. I had managed to increase my Mind attribute by 3 points, raising it to 14, and my body by 2, raising it to 13. And yes, I didn't use my stats points yet. Pathetic, I know.

On the upside, I noticed something about the system and how my stats increased; the increase in my physique and brain wasn't instant or notable as soon as the number on my character screen increased.

The increase was gradual, and the system wasn't rewarding my efforts and raising my attributes because of my training and study. It was merely quantifying it instead. And that was probably the best thing I discovered since coming to this world.

Sure, I'd be sweating my balls off during the day and feeling sore all night, but the improvement and hard work felt authentic and non-fictional if that made any sense. It felt real. It was all me.

It didn't feel like some carrot dangling in front of my face for mere entertainment value courtesy of whatever or whoever bastard brought me into this shitty world. Up yours, you bastard. You and whoever's reading, watching, and consuming this shit as entrainment in any form.

In any case, I had enough money to finish the quest, and I knew better than to be greedy, so I called it a day and made my way home before someone came and nuked me or something. I'll have you know; that's a real possibility in this world, so do with that, what you will.

I sighed, relieved as I reached the apartment complex without trouble and found no overzealous prostitutes anywhere within sight while looking around for signs of trouble.

Looking at the apartment building, I really felt like sleeping the architect or DC artist who came up with the city's theme. Everything looked pointy and dark gray for some reason, including my apartment complex.

"Hang in there, Mark."

I nodded in greeting at the building's one and only security guard, stuffing a pack of cigarettes into his hand and patting his shoulder on my way inside.

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"Oh! You don't know you have to keep getting me stuff, Gray," the security guard, Mark, remarked as he stuffed the pack into his back pocket, sending me a smile, which I returned with a wave without saying anything.

I'd made a habit of getting a treat and passing it to Mark every time I went back into my apartment. It was never anything expensive or fancy, but it made his day, and I was more than happy to get on the good side of whoever was standing between me and the crazies out there while I slept.

I quickly reached my apartment, then fished the key out of my inventory and opened the door.

"Home, sweet home," I muttered with a broad smile splitting my face as I looked at the interior of my apartment. It was small, with one bedroom, a living area, a kitchen, and a small bedroom, and I had absolutely no furniture other than an air mattress in the middle of the living room.

Still, it was mine; it was safe, and it beat living with Logan or being homeless.

I quickly took a shower to wash away the wariness and accumulated grime of the day and plopped into the air mattress. Then I opened the system interface and accepted to receive the money quest's reward.

[+5 level to the Crime skill] [Crime 25]

[Due to reaching a milestone in your Crime skill, you have unlocked a new perk: (Silent Step)]

[Silent Step: as a seasoned, hardened criminal (your mother must be proud,) your footsteps are silent, and only those with supernatural hearing ability can detect you through the sound of your footsteps]

[+2 Class levels. Thief Class is already at maximum level; the system will add the excess to whatever class you choose next]

[Randomizing equipment.... randomizing complete]

[You received: Bulletproof Black Trench Coat]

[Bulletproof Black Trench Coat: the wet dream of every edge lord and their mothers out there, and a stable in Gothamite fashion (it's a bulletproof trench coat, what more do you need to know?)]

I sighed in frustration as information about how to better steal and break the law to my benefit began flooding my brain after the number next to the Crime level went up by five.

I felt no sense of achievement or realness from the increase in the skill level, my good mood souring. I didn't even want to inspect my new toy, the trench coat, and merely decided to sleep instead of brooding about it.

'And here I thought the day wouldn't possibly turn shitty at the last possible second. Serves me right, I suppose.'

...

Gotham City Park

The pale moonlight slithered its way across the leaves of the thick greenery, shining on a man punching the air as he stood rooted in place, his face a mask of calm and concentration.

Every time he punched the air, his fists created an audible thud, his toned muscles that looked more steel than flesh, hardening and constricting with every strike.

'Unfortunately, no one was there to enjoy the sight.' the man jokingly mused. However, the sound of footsteps quickly snapped him out of his thoughts.

He turned to the source of the sound, and a knowing smile tugged on his stoic visage upon seeing the face of the woman walking towards him with deliberate, measured steps.

"Miss me already, Sandra? I knew you couldn't stay away from for too long," the muscled man said with a snicker as he regarded the approaching woman, to which she scoffed.

"Don't flatter yourself, Richard. I'm here on business," the woman, Sandra, or Lady Shiva, blankly replied, dismissing the man's flirting with a wave of her hand.

"Oh? And what business could the great Lady Shiva have with a humble martial arts instructor like myself?" The man, Ricard, questioned, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I said not to flatter yourself, Richard, but that does not mean you must depreciate yourself on my behalf..." Lady shiva said with a slight smile as she stopped one meter away from Richard, locking eyes.

"I am here because of my daughter..."

 

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