Chapter 4: First Night Out II

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‘Six done, four to go.’

The next delivery was close to his position, only a short five-minute walk across the street. After bidding goodnight to a deeply amused Nina – the woman promising him to call for their services more frequently in the future, with an emphasis and a suggestive tone on ‘services’, the tease – Jack left for his next destination.

This time around, he decided to walk the short distance on foot without using his power, deciding to conserve the remaining of his energy.

Less than five minutes later, after a short power walk on the cracked sidewalk of the street, Jack stopped in front of a duplex. Like his previous stop, the house in front of him was one of the better-looking ones in the neighborhood.

He dropped off two boxes of pizza in the hands of an astonished woman who looked to be in her late forties to early fifties. Shockingly, the woman was only carrying a taser on her instead of a gun.

After a short but polite introduction and discussion, he left, but not before receiving another generous tip from the woman, 11$. So far, with the 5$ commission fee per pizza delivered, he netted 40$. Add to this the tips, 6$ for his first delivery, 16$ for the second one, and now 11$ for this one, he made a total of 73$.

Not bad, for what amounted to something like a little under one hour of work.

‘This pizza delivery business doesn’t pay as badly as I initially thought,’ Jack thought, ever the optimist. ‘Eight done, only two more deliveries to do before calling it a night and get some much-needed sweet food.’

Once again motivated, he opened a [chamber], slung off his backpack from his shoulders, switched it with a nearby object on a rooftop, then expertly mario’d his way up to said rooftop by using telekinesis platform to vertically hop on the roof of the two-storey building.

‘Damn, I’m good.’

The two last delivery addresses were relatively closer to each other's position, but far from his current one. With one situated at the southern west of Crime Alley and the other in the northern part of ‘The Bowery’.

A whole-ass 6 km from his position.

It was going to take a while, and by the time he arrived there, the pizzas would already be quite cold.

‘Next time, I need some kind of transport vehicle. Gotta ask Lorenzo if he has a scooter or something. I refuse to believe he used to make those deliveries on foot.’ He made a mental note to ask.

Jack sighed, breaking off into a slow jog.

---

Three-quarters of an hour later, he was winded, puffing and sweating, completely out of breath while standing on the roof of a two-storey building that also turned out to house a convenience store on the first floor. His destination was another building across the street, with broken windows and a ramshackle front facade. This one was in an even worse condition than all the inhabited buildings he so far had made his deliveries to.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he had a [chamber] opened and knew that people were living in the building, he would have thought to be at the wrong address.

That would have been quite infuriating.

Cracking his neck, Jack climbed off the building and made his way across the street to the building.

Once in front of the front door, he noticed that there wasn’t a bell to ring and so, he lightly knocked on the door, announcing his presence with a shout of: “Pizza delivery from Lorenzo’s!”

“Pizza… delivery?” A man hesitantly answered, walking toward the door. He was armed, his gun directly pointed at Jack.

Maybe it was his fatigue, but he was quickly getting fed up with this shit. Jack no longer had the patience to politely deal with people.

“Who else? Santa Claus maybe? Then again, I doubt that you were ever visited by him as a kid. And it’s 20 years too late for that now.” He drawled, “No seriously, you fucking ordered this pizza. What or who else were you expecting? And dear customer, for your sake, I advise you to lower that fucking gun.”

That startled the man, whose fingers tightened around the trigger, on the verge of pulling it. “Who the fuck are you?” He asked, shouting.

“The delivery guy from Lorenzo’s.” Jack deadpanned, his entire focus on the man as his brown pupils started blazing in an ethereal red flame, taut and ready to snap into action.

“The fuck is Lorenzo!?” The man eloquently questioned.

"Holy shit." Another different voice, still that of man, exclaimed. "Are you from Lorenzo’s?"

“Like I said, I’m the delivery guy from Lorenzo’s, yes.” Jack answered with exasperation, tired from this back and forth he already had for the second time tonight. “You ordered a pizza from us, yes?”

“Wait, Mike! Lemme handle this!” The second man said, walking toward him and passing his friend. To Jack , he shouted, “Yes dud–... uhhh, yeah. Yes, I’m the one who ordered that pizza! I thought you weren’t going to come, it’s been two long-ass hours since then!”

“I encountered some setbacks on the way, but I am here now.”

Opening the door, he froze upon seeing him. They stared at each other for a moment, neither of them saying anything, just taking in the other’s appearance. Eventually though, the other man proved himself to be a hardened Gothamite. He regained his bearings, and acting like nothing was out of the ordinary, he silently took the pizza out of his hand, paid him and even left him a small tip of 2$. At no point did he question him.

‘I like this guy,’ Jack decided.

“Sorry ‘bout my friend, dud–... errr, sir. And thank you for… the pizza.”

Jack snorted, the action somewhat coming out menacing. “Just doing my job, you’re welcome. Sorry for the cold pizza.”

“Nah, I’m good, no stress.” The man sweated, frantically waving his hand away, “Imma just put it in the oven. Really, there’s no trouble!”

Jack hummed non-comically. Giving him a nod, he turned his back and then walked out.

“Shit man, who the fuck was that dude?” While leaving, Jack heard his friend's question. His ear perked up and he registered in his sphere the movement of the other man, the first man who greeted him as he approached his customer. “Who the fuck Lorenzo, dude? Is he some kind of kingpin of pizza or some shit?”

A laugh. “A kingpin of pizza!” Followed by a guffaw. “Lorenzo, the kingpin of pizza!”

“Yeah, keep laughing! Think it’s funny for me to think so, huh. Ha har. Did ya see the guy? Mf is scary as fuck! He knew I had my gun pointed right at him and my man was still acting chill. Like it ain’t a bother! How did he even fucking know!?”

This made the young rogue smirk.

“I know, I know. Why do you think I was being all polite and shit, man. It’s just— pffff… Alright, alright! Okay! I’ll stop.” A snicker followed by a cough. “Lorenzo’s just the owner of a small pizza in Burnley that used to deliver food in any part of Gotham. Even in crime alley. He closed but now, from words on the streets, he reopened recently from what I heard…”

Jack missed the rest of their conversation as they entered the building soon after, while he himself was making his way toward his last address delivery.

In his estimation, it was a short 10 min jog from this place.

‘Nine done, only one to go.’

He couldn’t wait to be done with his first night.

---

There were a lot of gunshot sounds, 'more than usual.' He couldn’t help but notice.

While making his way to his last delivery spot, once again, Jack was struck by how different Gotham was from Valence, Boston, or any cities he ever was to. The sky seemed to be perpetually dim, even in the morning, and in the night like right now, the city was downright grim. The air too was different. There was something in the air that made it hard to breathe, and it wasn’t just his fatigue talking. The air felt just heavier, with a stale quality to it. Undoubtedly, a result of the numerous chemical factories that were pumping out smoke and churning out toxic fumes, thus polluting the air. At least from what he could see in the distance.

And then, there was the people. The people who were either quiet and wary, or calculating and predatory.

The mood hanging around the small dilapidated building in front of him also didn’t help abate his feelings of unease.

Jack was… wary of knocking or entering into the building – which was another small convenience store.

From what his [scan] revealed, the building was a little bigger than a regular living room. From his estimation, it was maybe 200 to 350 square feet (18.6 to 32.5 square meters).

However, what made him pause was what he registered beyond the building… a basement.

'Geez… another basement hidden behind the front of a dilapidated building.'

The building has a basement and in said basement, there was a humanoid figure laying on what seemed like a sleeping bag. It was a mutant or someone with a genetic mutation as it was referred to here.

A humanoid figure over seven feet tall (211 cm), closer to eight feet (250 cm) than seven, and weighing maybe around 350 lbs (158,7 kg) with a dorsal fin on the head. The figure was… vaguely feminine from its… her body’s curves.

He hesitated, not knowing what to do next, wondering if he was at the right address.

Although he was inclined to believe that he indeed was. Because so far, every place listed on his orders turned out to be correct. Briefly, he also entertained the idea of just going back, but quickly discarding it.

“We deliver food to people, no matter who, everywhere and anywhere.”

Jack remembered Lorenzo’s words. Besides, it occurred to him that the woman waiting for her cold pizza might have been the object of discrimination and racism because of her appearance in the past. He would be honestly surprised if there were a lot of places she could go to and that would cater to her.. Going back because he felt… intimidated by her appearance and the place she lived in – admittedly this reason was a legit one in his opinion – would feel too much like he was… discriminating against a customer based on something that was probably out of her control.

Nobody would have reproached him had he decided to turn back.

Yet doing so would leave a bad taste in his mouth, as irrational as the feeling was.

So, it was time to face the music.

Decision made, Jack pushed open the door – it crashed on the ground with a loud reverberating bang sound, scattering dust everywhere.

He winced.

Because in the basement, the figure steered awake.

However, he pushed forward. Unsettling darkness greeted him as he stepped into the abandoned convenience store.

When it became clear that the figure was making her way to climb up to check up on what created the small disturbance, Jack decided to take up the initiative and act like he was unaware of her presence.

“Hello?” He loudly called, making the figure stop mid-step. “Is there someone here?” Hoping that the person has enhanced senses – they ought to as they’ve managed to pick up the noise made by the door collapsing – he whispered to himself in a smaller voice to further sell his act,”Am I even at the right address…?” Louder, he shouted out. “I’m the pizza delivery guy from Lorenzo! I have your order, is someone here right now?”

‘I hope that it’ll be enough to put her at ease,’ Jack thought, nervously tapping his foot against the ground even as he tracked the woman’s movements; she was now slowly climbing up the ladder.

He really hoped it wouldn’t come to a fight. He wasn’t exactly on top of his game right now. But if it came down to it, he would go lethal right from the gates as he couldn’t afford to do otherwise.

Though the fact that she was still climbing up to meet him after he made his present known instead of just pretending to not be here, reassured him a little.

Hopefully, it meant that he managed to diffuse a potential confrontation and she was climbing up to take up that pizza.

‘Hopefully.’

With a squeaking noise akin to chalk grinding against a blackboard – a huge shelf with empty canned foods and vegetables on display, parted itself away, sliding to the left and letting the figure of his client emerge.

And just like that, all of Jack’s worries and apprehension magically disappeared, leaving his body like the spirit of Tom once did when the blue cat dropped dead at the threshold of the divine staircase before its soul ascending it.

His first impression of the woman who slowly got up from the ground was… gigantic. And he wasn’t thinking about her boobs – ‘they are too’, his treacherous mind supplied – but he was thinking about her height!

It was one thing to have an approximation of her figure, height and everything. It was another to see her with his own eyes. From her tall appearance, closer to 8 feet than 7 as he initially guessed; to her musculature, biceps corded with muscles, plump and toned legs with well-defined abs; and to her curves, wide hips and a sculpted waist which made her ass protrudes out of behind her, teasing a promise of a round, big and perky, juicy fatass if she was to turn side-way or around. But last but not least, her breasts – each the size of a melon and threatening to burst out of her one-piece prison uniform, which on her, acted more like a skimpy porn outfit.

Everything about her was impressive.

Because of the dorsal fin on her head, he at first thought that she was some kind of hybrid between a human and a dolphin. But after seeing her, he realized that he was wrong. Her skin was mostly black at her side with hints of white at the center from taking a peek at her boobs from her neckline. Her face though, was mostly black with white patches near her eyes.

She was a Killer Whale.

Jack lightly gaped as the woman slowly walked toward him, prowling around him like a predator seizing its prey – taking in his appearance even as he was doing the same with her, drinking her in. The perks of wearing a helmet was that as long as he wasn’t moving his head, it was hard for someone to know exactly where he was looking at. And currently, Jack’s eyes were anywhere but on her face as his eyes were roaming over her entire body.

If she intended to appear threatening and make him feel nervous, then she was doing a poor job of it with the way her boobs subtly jiggled with every step she took, trying but failing to spill out of their confine.

Jack was more aroused than scared or intimidated honestly. His cock standing at half-mast was a testament to that.

“I believe I ordered that pizza more than three hours ago…” Finally, she stopped less than one foot away from him. Her voice was a low baritone, gruff and coarse. Not at all what he expected from her gender and appearance. “I even received a call from Lorenzo, asking if I received my order. I told him no and he apologized that his guy couldn’t make it. And now… you’re here.” She pointedly said, sounding vaguely accusative as she crossed her arms below her chest, making her boobs straighten up and perk up.

“Well,” he began, eyeing her, wondering if he should go for it. But guessing that some levity shouldn’t be amiss. In the end, he decided to go for it. “What can I say?” He shrugged his shoulders, “Traffic was Killer. Just like your looks.”

“...” A blink. “...” Then surprise.

Her eyes widened as she blinked owlishly. Once, twice, thrice, clearly taken aback.

‘Oh?’ The sheer look of surprise on her face proved to him that he made the right decision going for it. Even more amazing, Jack saw her blushing. On her white cheeks, it was very blatant.

“Seriously though, sorry about the cold pizza.” Grinning now – Jack apologized while handing the statuesque woman her pizza box – already feeling much more chipper now. She reflexively took it. “This city’s a mess! I like, came across 5 gun shootouts, 3 collapsed buildings and a zombie horde on the way here. And that was just on 3rd avenue, the one around the corner. Also, I’m Lorenzo’s only delivery man for the whole city.” He added, “And I’m foot. After my bike got stolen on the first stop by some weird walking lizard-man.” She looked at him dumbly even as he kept talking, sighing ruefully while shaking his head. “If I knew that I was making a Lady wait, I would have made more haste!”

“I-... uh, you aren’t…?” The woman stuttered, probably unused by the flatteries, not knowing what to make out of his flirting or compliments or excuses. The fact that she wasn’t calling him out on them was a testament to how much you managed to fluster her.

‘That or there’s maybe a zombie horde chilling around and walking lizard-men prowling the streets, because at this point, why not? Aliens are public knowledge here.’ He thought, smirking as he kept eyeing the woman in front of him.

Seeing the tall and imposing woman on her back foot, lighted an animalistic feeling of exhilaration in his chest, tingling every cell in his body and sending a jolt to his spine.

It was a thrilling feeling.

“I’m not what…?” Jack questioned leadingly, stepping forward into her personal space, having to raise his head up to look at her in the eyes.

“Yo-you aren’late!” She fired off in a single breath.

“I’m aren’t late?” He parroted, “You said I was though.” There was no hiding the amusement in his tone even with his voice modulator. And expectantly, she caught on to his teasing.

“A-anyways!” She exclaimed, bringing her fist to her mouth and coughing, clearing her throat in the hopes of changing the conversation. “I mean to say that I understand why you are late. You are excused,” she stated as imperially as she could manage before fishing a 50$ bill out of her pocket and all but forcing it into his hands.

“Now, you can go on leave and go back to work!” She said, gently pushing him out of the door. “I’m sure there's a ton of orders waiting for you.”

“Ackchyually!” Jack replied in a nasal voice while raising a finger. “You were my last client of the night. So I have plenty of time on my hands.” He turned back and tried to dig his heels in.

“Lorenzo probably wants to hear news from you as soon as possible!” However, she changed track and turned him around once again before pushing him out. More firmly this time, “And I’m sure that you have better things to do with your time than teasing me.”

“I don’t.” He made a token effort at resisting. Not that he could truly resist if she wanted to force him out. She was that much stronger than him.“I’m sure that Lorenzo would excuse my tardiness if I told him that I was caught with a Killer –eh – Lady.” The pun made him snicker which in turn made her pull a face halfway between fed up and a grimace. “Besides, I find that spending my time with you would be far more interesting. Far, far more interesting, hmmm. I find you fascinating, my killer lady. Does it bother you if I start calling you that?” He asked, turning back again. Just in time to witness her blush coming back with a vengeance. “Also, what are your thoughts on pineapple on pizza? Because, depending on your answer, I might be a little put out. Nothing unsalvageable, really. I think that I can find it in me to close my eyes on potential dubious tastes in food if you let me inside for a drink and quick chat. Oh! Oh! Also– ”

“Just go away or I will report you to Lorenzo and file a complaint to him!” Even as she scowled – baring a set of white sharp teeth, Jack couldn’t help but find her cute.

“At least answer the pineapple question!” He yelled, struggling a little more. “It’s an important question! I know that you didn’t ask for pineapple on your pizza, but maybe you weren’t in the mood!”

“Just. Go. Away!” She groaned out, voice brimming with frustration and mortification, cheeks burning with either shame or embarrassment. Maybe both. But it couldn’t be anger because he was sure that she could effortlessly shatter his shoulder if she truly was pissed off.

“The client is queen, and the client wants me gone.” Jack dramatically sighed, deciding to stop his teasing here. “Thank you for your patronage, Miss Killer Lady. I hope you will enjoy your pizza even if it’s cold.” He exaggeratedly bowed once she pushed him to the threshold.

“My name is Orca!” She yelled before picking up the collapsed door from the ground and slamming it on the door frame, closing the opening.

‘Ah,’ He ruefully exclaimed, ‘Did I come too strongly on her?’ He was admittedly a little… overly enthusiastic with the flirting once it became clear that she was weak to it and more than a little receptive.

Amusingly, she was still standing on the other side, holding the door to prevent it from falling back on the floor – probably waiting for him to leave, on the lookout for hearing his retreating footsteps.

Chuckling, Jack loudly bade her good night and sweet dreams before leaving for good, making his way back to the pizzeria to report on his first night.

All in all, bare all the running around, he could see himself doing this job for as long as it would take him to gain his footing.

It was a productive first night if he said so to himself.

---

It took Jack a long hour and a half to make his way back to the pizzeria.

By the time he was in front of the facade, his legs were itching and throbbing from the strain and exertion he put them through – courtesy of all the running he did around.

Honestly, if he could, he would have gladly taken a bus and paid that 3$ just to spare himself the time and effort it took him to walk from The Bowery to Burnley. He could easily afford to.

Unfortunately, past 6:00 pm, there was no public transport working in this part of the city. And he was pretty sure that this unilaterally imposed curfew was only for this part of the city. Or at least, from parts of the city which was ripped by gangs and crimes. He honestly doubted that neighborhoods like Diamond, or Old Gotham where Wayne’s headquarters was situated – had the same public transportation curfews.

It was no wonder that neighborhoods like Crime Alley were infested by crimes. It was literally in the name to boot: Crime Alley.

According to some online studies, there was a correlation between places with a great amount of crime and the ease of travel thanks to a decent public transportation network.

Jack read somewhere on the internet that places with a lack of public transportation – isolated and unconnected areas of cities – were way more likely to be sunk in poverty, crimes and hopelessness. Transports bring opportunities, allow people to leave their neighborhoods, go from place to place for work or look for one, thus allowing for people to become part of a wider city network. It also has the benefit of allowing outsiders in.

The logic was sound. It wasn’t rocket science. After all, why would you go home on foot after work when it was already dark outside? Especially when you could simply take the bus and jump out of it once you reached the nearest bus stop to your home.

It certainly decreased the risk of getting mugged because someone decided to take a shortcut by cutting through a dark and humid, disease-ridden back alley instead of taking the bus home.

However, in Gotham, apparently, you weren’t even fucking safe in the metro or bus. Hijacking and terrorism were an alarmingly high possibility.

‘Only in Gotham,’ was a meme and common saying for a reason. Although, it was said jokingly most of the time, but sometimes, it was said with fondness, exasperation or resignation.

Sighing, Jack pushed open the pizzeria door. Lorenzo was sitting at the counter, his back to him with a quarter of a glass of what he assumed to be whisky resting in front of him. Upon hearing the door opening, he turned around and regarded him with a dazed look that quickly morphed into his default grumpy expression.

From his reading, Jack guessed that he hadn't expected him to come back. He could understand why. He was gone for more than five hours or so. Lorenzo assuming that he skipped with the money or the pizzas wasn’t unfair.

“You’re back,” The man gruffly said in lieu of greeting. “You’re really back.” He repeated, his voice shaking with emotions. “... Did you complete all the deliveries?...”

Jack nodded his head, which earned him another look of wonderment.

“Accidenti…” Lorenzo cursed in what he guessed was Italian, “I’m truly back into business.” He muttered absently, his voice trembling even as he shakily stood up from his seat.

Lorenzo looked at him with a gaze full of hidden meanings – a myriad of emotions flashing through his aged grey eyes: melancholy, sadness, hope and joy. He was gazing at Jack but not really at him. His gaze was vacant, inattentive and distant, lost staring at somewhere into the space which happened to be where he stood.

Jack guessed that by the melancholic look on his visage, he was having a flashback, remembering his glory days, the sacrifices he made in order to make his pizzeria thrive, the recognition he gained after thousands of hours of hard work, and then, his pizzeria and live work’s decline which saw him forced to close his small restaurant.

He understood the sentiment and could even relate. Which was why he politely stood by, not speaking or interrupting the older man, letting him have his small moment – his flashback episode.

‘He’s probably reminiscing about his journey while a remix of My Heart's a stereo is playing in the background.’