Chapter 3: First Night Out I

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Jack got to work immediately. Opening a [Chamber], he scanned everything present in his sphere, and quickly enough, found his mark. A fairly big chunk of rock, weighing around 5 kg (11 lbs) from his estimates, and the pressure it felt on the back of his mind when he tried levitating it off from the ground.

While there were several objects scattered across his target’s rooftop, it was much more ideal that the items he wanted to swap were approximately of the same mass because of the ease with which swapping said items was in contrast to swapping places between two items on the opposite scale’s weight, which was much more strenuous for his mind. On the other hand, the volume or density of said objects he was switching didn’t matter as much in terms of the strain it put on the mind.

So, satisfied with his finding, Jack deftly slipped off the backpack containing the pizzas from his back then swapped the place of said backpack with the rock that was on the roof of a nearby residential building. Without fanfare, the backpack disappeared from its initial position in his observation, replaced by the rock.

He then proceeded to swiftly climb the building where his backpack landed and once on top, hoslered it back on his shoulder before taking into a slow jog, doing his best to not shake his charge too much at the risk of ruining the pizzas inside.

He took off from the buildings, opting for his preferred method of travel when in costume.

This time, it was a little more tedious to move with a delicate charge added in a way that wouldn't jostle the pizzas inside too much while going from rooftop to rooftop. But in the end, he managed it by simply doing without rolls and hard landings, preferring to create multiple telekinesis platforms, if needed, that would act like steps which he could easily use in order to clear the distance between buildings without shaking his backpack around.

The entire process was more strenuous on his stamina and focus because of the repeating opening and closing of [chambers], and usages of telekinesis platforms. Added to that, the fact that he hadn’t eaten an appropriate meal since this morning, he was beginning to feel slightly light-headed.

An all-too-familiar warning sign of approaching power exhaustion. First, light-headedness, then nausea, and finally, headaches accompanied sometimes by vomiting.

Luckily for him, after a 15 minutes or so of slow jogging, he was close to his destination.

The place the GPS took him to was what looked like a nondescript residential area, with several apartment buildings lining the streets from which he could see laundry spread out on clotheslines and peaking out of balconies or windows, in the cases of apartments on higher floors with no balcony.

Opening a [chamber] revealed several people from the apartments around him, and the streets across, being armed.

His first client of the night was in one of those apartments… and from his observation, the client was also the most armed person to boot…

Jack let out a sound between a sigh and a groan at the realization.

‘Is this place a neighborhood for gangbangers or something…?’

Cursing his luck, he carefully climbed off from the back of the building he was on, making sure that there weren’t any witnesses watching him, then made his way in front of the door with the address number for his orders.

Jack knocked at the door and waited. Inside, there were five occupants, all men, sitting around a table filled with beer, snacks, cards and jetons. One of the men stood up from his seat before taking his gun which was lying on top of the kitchen’s counter – the safety of which was already off – and leisurely made his way through the mixed living/dining room and small narrow corridor.

The door opened itself to reveal a man in his early fifties wearing a white wife-beater and black jeans, with a gun hanging from his belt waist. The man looked up at him, his eyes widening at Jack’s appearance as his gaze locked on his helmeted face.

Ominously shining red lenses silently met the man’s gaze, reflecting his startled appearance on Jack’s lenses—

— Before long….

… Multiple things happened at once.

In one smooth and swift motion that betrayed practiced ease, the older man drew out his gun, pointed it at him, and then proceeded to squeeze the trigger.

However, he was ready for this reaction, and thus, faster than him on the update.

Before the man could squeeze the trigger, Jack turned on the key of the safety trigger, locking the firing mechanism of the gun.

Clicking sounds slightly akin to a gun running on an empty magazine resounded out throughout the place.

The man let out a curse of frustration at the result. He was panicking, frantically squeezing the trigger even after it became quickly apparent that his gun was of no use.

Rolling his eyes behind his helmet, Jack coughed to bring his attention.

And instinctively, the man answered you with a shout of: “What?”

“It seems like you forgot to pull off the safety,” Jack helpfully pointed out the problem, causing the man to shoot him an incredulous gaze even as he started checking what he said.

“Fuck,” Muttering a curse, the man swiftly pulled off the safety.

“Before you shoot me again,” Jack dryly said. “I want to point out that I’m here to deliver your pizzas, and unless I’m at the wrong house, which according to my G.P.S., isn’t the case, then shooting the guy doing his job and delivering your food is… a tad rude, I believe.” He drawled.

At his words, the man briefly stopped and looked over his shoulder; at the backpack jutting out from his back.

“Huh,” he blinked after registering the words said. It also helped that Jack has been nonchalantly standing still, refraining from doing anything. “Color me surprised, it’s real... Lorenzo’s delivering again.” The man whistled, coming to a conclusion after taking stock of his words and noticing the red parka resting on his shoulders. Even as he tentatively kept his arm pointed to the ground, letting his gun rest on his side, his wary eyes were still on Jack’s form, waiting for him to do something.

“Yes,” Jack nodded, and slowly slid the backpack in front of him, making the man’s shoulders tense, and his finger twitched. Opening the bag under the other man’s scrutinizing gaze, he took out four pizza boxes. “Two pizzas with butter chicken and sausage, topped with Emmental and Swiss cheese. Another two pizzas with red onion, carnitas, shrimp, ham, pepperoni and Cajun spices.” He listed off his order.

“Goddamn!” The Man’s eyes lit up upon opening one of the boxes himself with his gun’s muzzle, and seeing the pizza inside. The smell wafting from it made Jack’s stomach rumble. “You weren’t lying, you’re really our fucking delivery guy, ahahahaha!” He cackled, “Lorenzo got himself some kind of fucking Merc to deliver his fucking pizzas after last time!”

“Oi, Mark, something the matter?” One of the men inside the apartment shouted, “Who is dis? Who are you talking with at the door?”

“The delivery guy!” Mark turned his head and yelled back over the door, “Took me by surprise. Wasn’t really expecting someone to pull off a delivery and come drop off our order!“

“What? A delivery? What delivery?“ Another one shouted in surprise. “You got delivered here? In the middle of fucking crime alley? I didn’t know restaurants delivered around our part of town!”

“They don’t,” Mark confirmed, shouting. “No restaurants have the fucking balls to deliver in Crime Alley or the surrounding neighbourhood. I ordered from Lorenzo’s.”

“Lorenzo’s? Who the fuck’s Lorenzo?”

“Holy shit,“ The first man that initially questioned Mark, was the one to exclaim. “Did I hear you right? Did you say you ordered from Lorenzo’s? Lorenzo’s Autentico? The pizzeria from Burnley? The same?”

“The one and only, Steven.” Mark, his client, smirked. “Lorenzo’s back, baby."

“Lorenzo’s back? Since when?!” Jack heard the sound of chairs scraping against the floor and of footsteps stomping against the floo quickly growing before coming face to face with a slightly younger man, this one in his early to mid-thirties.

“Why it is only now that I’m hearing about thi–” The man stumbled back upon seeing him standing behind his friend – his movements unsteady and awkward. He was clearly buzzed. “Wh-what the fuck! Who the fuck is this???”

Three other different footsteps quickly joined him at his yelling.

And once again, when they saw Jack’s helmeted appearance, they all were taken aback. One of them even quickly pulled out his gun from his belt and aimed it at him.

“Stop!” Mark roared, putting himself in front of his friend and in front of him. “Fucking lower that gun, Nathan! He’s the delivery guy from Lorenzo’s, not some dumb cunt here to fuck with us!”

At his friend’s order, or was it superior (?) – Jack guessed – the one named Nathan lowered his gun, frowning.

“The delivery guy???” The tipsy man loudly said, “Since when are mercenaries delivering pizzas? You sure he ain’t one of Penguin guys?”

“Crystal,” snapped Mark. “I ordered from Lorenzo, he guaranteed me that he could make the delivery or would cancel if he couldn’t. And only Lorenzo got the balls to make deliveries here, and there it is.” He gestured at the boxes, “It has his logo on the boxes, and look, the guy got Lorenzo’s iconic GPS on his wrist too!” And pointed at the GPS on your wrist.

“The delivery guy, huh.” Nathan, the guy who pulled his gun at him, sniffed, “Didn’t know that they come fucking dressed for war now.”

“Unfortunately, the current climate of the city and this profession require this much,” Jack politely interjected before nodding at his gun. “As you can see sir, to do my deliveries as safely as possible, I need to be decked in as much protection as feasible in the… eventuality that I encounter some troubles during my shift.”

“Encountering troubles, he says.” Mark laughed, “Hah, most people will give you a wide berth if they see you coming dressed like this. You cut an imposing figure. And people have long learned to not try their luck and fuck unnecessarily with crazy masked cunts.” He shook his head, chuckling. “Never heard of a guy with a getup like yours before. One who also happens to deliver pizzas. New in town?”

“First night on the job, sir.”

“Got it,” Mark nodded, sending him a knowing grin. “Either way, you’ll do just fine. Don’t worry about encountering troubles in this part of town, I’m gonna put the word around that you’re Lorenzo’s boy and shouldn’t be fucked with. No need to pay a toll or anything. In fact, if someone in the neighborhood ever tries to extract one from you, inform me.” Mark’s eyes hardened. “I will take care of it and personally ensure that you’re left alone. I can see that Lorenzo’s really giving this whole comeback a shot, and I’ll be damned if I don’t do something to make sure that his business keeps running this time if I can help. We’ve taken for granted his place before and when he closed, we fucking felt it. You can’t fucking believe how much of a pain it is to get some good fucking food delivered around. Other fancy places in East Gotham or Diamond won’t even fuckind hear you out as soon as you mention wanting to be delivered at a place near Crime Alley.” Mark spat, “Only Lorenzo has the balls to deliver anywhere, no matter who asks. Help that he isn’t a snitch too.”

“I can understand where you’re coming from. Thank you for your offer, sir." Jack gracefully accepted his help. “I will notify you if I encounter such troubles."

“Truly? There was a guy like that? Never heard of this guy before though,” One of the men said, watching their entire exchange.

“The guy been out of business for what? The better part of five years now, I think?” Mark answered, “Normal that you never heard of him. Five years is a lot of time. People forget, and while they may have forgotten about his place, the streets haven't.”

“HECK, YES!” Steven bellowed in agreement.

Mark took up a box in his hand with a large smile on his face, then dug into his pocket to take out a wad of cash. “I reckon that Lorenzo said that it was something like 134 dollars with the delivery fee correct?” He asked, counting the cash before giving him seven bills of 20$. “Here, you can keep the change.”

“Yes, it is. Thanks,” Jack took the offered cash, not bothering with counting, knowing that the money was counted for. “I’ll be on my way then, thank you for your patronage again. I hope you’ll enjoy the pizza. Have a good night, sirs.”

Nathan scoffed, and besides you, Mark only looked at him with eyes filled with amusement. “Such a rarity, he got a guy who seems to be polite.”

“He’s only acting this way because of that tip,” He heard Nathan sniffed as he descended down the steps of the patio.

The door closed as Jack switched addresses on the GPS. His next destination displayed; he once again swapped his backpack with the nearest object on a roof before climbing up said roof, after making sure that no one was around to see him do so.

---

‘Four done, only six to go.'

According to his GPS, the next three delivery addresses were still in Crime Alley, while the last one was in a neighborhood called The Bowery, a neighboring district of Crime Alley.

Once again, he stuck to the rooftops as he made his way toward his next destination.

From time to time while reopening a [chamber], he caught on to some crimes happening.

Sometimes, it was people dealing weapons or drugs in back alleys, and other times, it was a good old case of mugging. Either way, Jack didn’t bother to try to stop those crimes. For starters, he was on the job, and thus on a timer. Secondly, it might be callous of him, but he wasn’t interested in stepping in, even in the case of a mugging to help the victim, because as far as he was concerned, as long as the person complied and didn’t try to act with false bravado, chances were that they would be fine. And from his understanding, Gothamites were a hardy lot.

Of course, were it a woman getting mugged, he would have intervened – for obvious reasons. Chief of them, the real possibility of sexual assault happening.

‘Shame that I am on the job,’ he thought, slightly lamenting. ‘Some of those dealers did have a lot of cash on them. It wouldn’t have hurt to requisition their cash. Then again, by doing so, I might step into the territory of whoever's the local mob gang in this part of town. A thought for later.’

Eventually, he reached his destination. A two-storey building, one of the rare, nicer ones in the area, made of brown masonry stone, with no visible sign of dilapidation or disrepair.

Climbing back to the street, he walked to the front door, then rang the bell.

And waited.

Soon, a woman clad in short blue denim jeans, and a white tank top opened the door. She was probably in her mid-to-late thirties in his estimation, with short black cropped-up hair, grey eyes and tan skin.

The woman stared at him, not quite openly gaping in shock but still giving him an astonishing look-over. Meanwhile, Jack shamelessly took in her appearance. From her handful breasts, to her toned stomach, to her long and plump legs, to finally, her wide child-bearing hips, jutting out of her behind like a shelf.

“Can I help you?”

Jack broke out of his small spell when the woman subtly shifted on her feet, angling herself so that now her thicc ass was positioned diagonally from his view.

‘Damn, dat ass!’

“Hi! I’m your pizza delivery guy from Lorenzo's!” He introduced himself with levity after having decided that this was probably how he was going to proceed from now on if he didn’t want to be shot. Because while the woman in front of him wasn’t armed, the other woman inside, who he assumed to be her friend, on the other end… was shockingly, in arm-reach of a shotgun and a machine gun.

Besides, menacingly standing there while staring at people and not saying anything would probably lead to a lot of misunderstandings.

”Lorenzo’s? So he really did reopen, huh? I half-expected not to have my pizza delivered. Never thought I’d live to see the day when he once again made deliveries, even if he doesn’t do it himself." The woman replied after taking a look at his backpack before leaning her hips against the door frame and crossing her arms. She sent him a smirk. “So? What’s your story big boi? Why's a tall, dark and scary-looking guy like you delivering pizzas?”

“I saw Lorenzo’s job annonce,” Jack replied, nonplussed. “He needed someone who could handle the streets of Gotham, and he got me.”

“He sure has,” she agreed, smirk still tugging on her lips as she dug through her short’s back pocket for something before retrieving a wad of cash and handing it over to him. Four notes of 20. “Keep the change, big boi. It’s a thank you for the service and a small encouragement on my part for doing this. I don’t remember the last time someone agreed to make a delivery over here or even made the delivery. Hope you guys keep at it for a while. I was missing my friday nights of pizzas and chill.”

“Thank you and you’re welcome. I can understand why after doing my shift.” Jack replied even as he accepted the money and traded it for her two pizzas. “It seems like there’s a lot of things going around this part of Gotham at night. And as a consequence, people here are armed, to the teeth in some cases. It can quickly get dangerous and ugly, fast, I notice. Some guy delivering pizzas in the middle of it can be an enticing target for the hungry, desperate or downtrodden.”

“Orrrr, the clinically insane,” she added with amusement. “You forgot the clinically insane. Never forget the clinically insane but also the criminally insane. We have a lot of them roaming around.”

“Lovely,” he drawled. The sarcasm lacing his voice managed to get translated even with the voice modulator. “I love the distinction you made between those two. From your tone, I can tell that this is an important one to make.”

The woman laughed, “Because it is.”

“Well, I’ll try to be careful then and not end up as just another statistic,” Jack shook his head self-deprecatingly. “Thank you for your patronage, ma’am. I hope you’ll enjoy your pizza.”

The woman turned around and crouched down to place the pizza boxes on the floor inside, at the corridor’s threshold – showing off her pairs of round perk mounds, a third of her doughy asscheeks bared to the open air and bulging out of her denim shorts, threatening to rip off the fabric of it.

Jack stared at her ass. She had to know what she was doing, he wouldn't believe otherwise.

“Ohh, I think I will. And please,” Turning around, she gave him a demure smile – it was a little too forceful, a little too fake, with a teasing edge – even as she extended her hand to him for a handshake. “You can call me Nina. Ma’am makes me feel self-conscious about my age.”

The young rogue reciprocated the gesture, his gloved hands coming in contact with her gloveless ones. It was rough and calloused. “You certainly don’t look a day over twenty-five, Nina.”

“Flatterer,” she sounded pleased.

“Guilty as charged. You caught me.” He quipped, “I’m trying to get into your good graces and butter you up so that you keep ordering from Lorenzo’s. I only want one thing, Nina— that those generous tips of yours keep flowing my way.”

Nina snorted, “I will no longer tip you with that attitude, big boi.”

At this point, she was making it easy for him, advertently or inadvertently. With an opening as big as her ass, it was hard to refrain from making a comeback.

‘Should I or shouldn’t I…’ He mulled.

Before ultimately deciding against it. This was his first night on the job doing deliveries and if he’d read the mood wrong, put his foot in his mouth or come across as a creep, it wouldn’t be good for his budding reputation and his job’s prospects.

Jack was pretty sure that he was still in some kind of trial phase with Lorenzo to see if he was reliable and could do his job well. And besides, throughout their entire exchange, he got the distinct impression that she was teasing him, gauging him and his reactions, to try and see what makes him tick.

Yeah, he prefers not to rise to her bait.

While she was clearly aware of the effect she had on him and knew exactly what she was doing by flirting with him, he honestly doubted she was down to fuck with a complete stranger after having shared a single conversation.

'Maybe after being a recurrent thing.' He idly mused, entertaining the thought of a scenario not unlike what he’ve seen in porn, where, the delivery man fucked the hot customer after having a conversation charged with sexual tension and filled with innuendos.

God, he was horny as fuck. He needed to get laid asap.

“I hope you won’t be too cross with me, Nina. I’m simply doing my job, it’s part of the customer service experience to try and flatter clients,” Jack eventually answered with cheer. “While I was no doubt buttering you, I was still telling the truth.”

“Ha! Were you really being truthful now?” Nina curiously asked, her eyes glinting with slyness.

“I was. With every fiber of my body.” He whispered, making her snicker.

“When I first saw you, I was worried that we had another edgelord in the city, another Deadshot wannabe, all business and no chill. I’m happy that my first impression of you was wrong. What do I call you, big boi?” She asked, cocking her hips, causing her curvy hips to quake and her mocha-colored cheeks to wobble like jelly. “Because I have a feeling that you’re going to be a permanent fixture in the city and that I’m going to see you around for a while.”

“You can call me...” Behind his helmet, Jack’ smile was savage. “... The Delivery guy.”

Nina chortled. “Really big boi? The delivery guy? Talk about original.”