Chapter 11: Rule II
There was much more cash than 20,000$ in the crate, Jack found out the next day after sitting down to count his loot.
67,475$
It took him a whole hour to make the count but once he did, the reality of it all began to settle down in his mind.
He was now in possession of more money than he knew what to do with. A problem the young rogue was now forced to confront. And that was without even including in the equation the weapons, ammunition, and military equipment he found.
Initially, after finding his current hideout and coming into possession of a bunch of firearms and grenades that were stashed in a locker, Jack was kind of stumped over what to do with this acquisition. Because ultimately, he didn’t use guns or any kinds of firearms – never had. They were too needlessly lethal for his taste. Never mind the fact that his familiarity with guns began and ended at: ‘release the safety lock, aim where you want to shoot, and pull the trigger’.
So the decision to leave behind the guns and sit on them for the time being wasn’t a hard one for him to make.
At least, the smoke grenades, tear gas and EMP grenades were something that, while they haven’t seen any use as of yet, he was taking with him every time he went out in costume.
They were that useful, for obvious reasons.
Jack was content with this arrangement.
Well… until the numbers of guns, ammo, grenades and military gear in his possession basically quadrupled overnight.
Now he was faced with the uncomfortable decision of what to do with them…
After giving it some thought, he decided in the end, to put the decision of what to do with the weapons on hold for now. Until he’d come up with a suitably good idea for his tastes on what to do with all these guns, he’d put this problem in the back of his mind.
“Alright, procrastination it is,” Jack sighed, standing up to leave. “The weapons aren’t going anywhere anyway. Might as well sit on them for the time being until something pops up or I get a flash of genius or something. No need to press myself and immediately decide on what to do with them.”
Though, he has some ideas about what to do with all that money. Obviously, a part of it will be set aside to pay for his new ID and a good apartment – lease and furnishing – but the great part, he decided, would be used to… either further his agenda – whatever it would be – or put it into immediate use.
Jack did have a problem of homeless orphans, street urchins – 'who should be spending their time at school instead of begging in the streets,' – he wanted to solve but was torn about how to go about it, having no idea on what to do other than make sure they weren't taken advantage of.
While he wouldn’t be able to solve everything with the money… he might be able to put things into motion to improve this situation.
Satisfied with dumping the firearms problem in the laps of another future him to solve, Jack climbed out of his hideout, heading outside to roam the city.
Jack considered himself to be a social creature by nature. Someone who craved social interactions and human contact over spending his time alone while watching TV shows or animes. He could do that too, but he preferred to not do this on his lonesome when the possibility of having some company while doing just that was up there.
So, it wasn’t a surprise that he decided to spend the little free time he had before work going to talk with someone.
On that thought, Jack especially remembered the particularly big-chested woman who manned the reception desk at that Job Agency in Burnley he went to in order to find his current job.
His list of friends and contacts being what it was, he figured that it wouldn’t be bad to make an idle visit to her but not before going over to some restaurant to order something for lunch. It would be only polite and the least he could do considering that he was planning to drop unannounced and not for work-related reasons.
He did work in restoration now and thus, has one place where he could order some takeout for a good price.
Heading for a telephone booth, Jack stepped into it and quickly dialed Lorenzo’s personal number.
The phone only rang two times before it was picked up.
“Hello, who is this? If this is for a special order, know that we aren’t open yet and this would be for early afternoon at best–”
“Yo boss, this is your boy, Rule,” Jack cheerfully interrupted. “Are you cooking right now? Cauz I’m in need of a pizza, 15”, chicken with onion, tomatoes and extra cheese.”
He knew from the Internet and memes on social media that black people love their fried chicken. So surely, they would love having some in their pizzas too, right?
Except for the sound of an exasperated sigh, there was a short silence on the other end of the line before Lorenzo replied with, “... I’m at the pizzeria, I can whip you out that order but it’s going to cost you.” He warned.
“Noice, you’re the best, boss!” Jack cheerfully praised, “Just put it on my tab.”
“What fucking tab…” He heard the older man mutter under his breath. “I will. Come pick it up in thirty minutes.”
“Sur–” Before Jack could finish his sentence, Lorenzo hung up, making him chuckle.
As agreed, 30 minutes later, Jack stopped by the pizzeria to fetch his order.
When he was in range and made sure that nobody was looking, he swapped the pizza for a small piece of paper – a notice he wrote on the way – informing Lorenzo that he already stopped by to take the pizza and went on his way.
With his order now in hand, he headed to the job agency.
Burnley Gotham Job Agency
Sponsored by the Wayne Foundation
Pushing open the door with his shoulder, Jack stepped inside the small one-storey building.
Once again, he noted the lack of customers in the place. It was currently a little before noon unlike the last time he was there – when it was late afternoon – so the fact that the place was still as empty as the last time, didn’t say good things about the state of the job agency.
It was official, Bruce Wayne was probably losing money funding this thing as obviously, people weren’t making use of the service in place. Unless, the whole gig was some kind of tax exemption thing, something he couldn’t write off as far as billionaires were concerned.
The same, bored-looking, gun-carrying, black security guard was standing at the threshold. While sitting in the center of the room, was the same big-chested employee from last time, his target of the day.
‘Perfect.’
The woman wasn’t slumped over her desk this time, instead, she was slightly leaning back on her seat with an expression that screamed: ‘bruh’ plastered all over her face.
Jack strode forward, making the woman tear her eyes away from her phone to look at his all-smiling face. She squinted her eyes at him before slowly blinking in realization, evidently recognizing him.
“Hi! How are you doing since last time? Good, I hope!” Jack chirped, not letting her the time to honestly answer his rhetorical question. With people like her, he quickly found out that asking a courtesy question like this was asking for a pessimistic answer like: “Terrible. Been doing shit.” – a total mood killer.
The woman made a dubious expression and gave him a queer look, seemingly put out by his cheerful demeanor and sunny disposition – probably not used to seeing a smiling, happy person stride into this place. Or interacting with one in her day-to-day life.
“Oh. It’s you again,” she said, voice perfectly flat and dispassionate. In answer, Jack beamed harder at her. Behind them, he heard the security guard cackle. “What do you want, this time?”
“I was on the way to work when I passed by the place and thought about you. So I decided to stop by to thank you for your help last time," Jack replied, still smiling but wilfully. "You've been a great help last time I was here, pointing me in the right direction. I’ve been told that I’m kinda impressionable, so if not for your intervention that day, I'd be just another random mugger in the city or another criminal working for a gang, no doubt. And so… I've returned here bearing food as a totem of thanks!" He told her, putting the pizza box on her desk along with two cans of soda.
The clerk, Jennifer from her tag, stared at him with not-a-small amount of wonder and befuddlement.
“You gotta be shitting me right?” She asked before proceeding to answer her own question anyway, “Yeah. You’re shitting me because ain’t no way you’re serious. I remember only giving you a goddamn paper sheet with a list of contacts before sending you on your way.”
“Nope!” Jack chirped, popping the p. “I’m dead serious, Jenn. Can I call you Jenn? Jennifer is a mouthful to say.”
“Call me Ma’am.”
“You look too young to be over 30,” he quipped instead.
“Because I’m not.” Jennifer deadpanned, “And you looked wayyy too young to be talking casually with me like we’re some old friends ‘n shit. You don’t even look like you graduated from high school.”
“That’s the baby face, it does give that kind of impression.” He sighed dramatically, shrugging in a ‘what can you do?’ manner. “Alright, Jennifer.” Jack settled for calling her by her name, making her pursue her pouty lips in displeasure. “Like I was saying, I’m serious. When I first came here, I was really lost–”
“You didn’t look lost. You waltzed into the agency like you own the damn place.”
“—AND disoriented.” He continued, ignoring her interruption. “I was lost and disoriented, knew nothing of the city, was new in town, was naive and had no repairs.” He listed, “One of the worst combinations possible, I’ve come to realize. You taking the time out of your day to listen to my problems, guide, counsel and show me what my options were? It was a big deal. Thanks to the job you recommended to me, I’ve been able to find gainful employment. A legal job where my skills are valued and I’m respected. In this current unstable climate? Around this part of town? It was a godsend.”
Jennifer blankly stared at him.
“And for that, I’ll be eternally grateful. It might have been a small gesture to you, but for me, it wasn’t. It meant everything! The least I can do is to buy you some food to show my gratitude.” Jack smiled, making a show of gesturing to the pizza and drinks on the desk.
Jennifer stared at him.
“I literally,” she began, slowly enunciating each word. “JUST. Gave. YoU. A. Sheet. Of. Paper.”
“Like I said, it meant the world to me.” Jack replied, smiling innocently at her.
The security guard snorted out loud while Jennifer kept staring at him with an exacerbated expression on her face.
“Whatever, you know what? I don’t give a fuck. Doesn’t matter if you gon take the piss with me, you can take all the goddamn piss for all I care. I won’t say no to free food.” Jennifer huffed, her words betraying her frustration even as she rolled her eyes and opened the pizza box to help herself to a slice of pizza.
“Don’t be shy or modest, Jennifer. You went above and beyond what was required from your job! So help yourself.” Jack beamed at her while ignoring the middle finger directed his way.
Turning to the other occupant of the room, he called out. “Hey, I bought the pizza for you too bro. It’s 15 inches, she won’t finish it alone. Come get your part.”
The security guard smiled indulgently at him before making his way to the desk.
“You don’t know that. She can eat her weight in food.” The other man good-naturedly said. The comment earned him a middle finger from the woman in question. “Thanks kid, I appreciate it. Never got offered food on the job by people, even less previous customers.” The security guard thanked him, taking a slice of pizza and gulfing it down.
“You’re welcome!” Jack enthused, “Oh, oh! Does that mean I get that n-word pass with you?”
Not like he hadn’t been using it before. He was using that pass from his grandpa but at this point, it was already expired. The man, bless his soul, had been dead since Jack was in his high school senior years.
Jennifer choked on her soda mild gulp while the security guard laughed out loud.
“You’re a riot, kid. You know what? Sure, why not?” He grinned. “You brought me free food, and from Lorenzo to boot, that warrants a n-pass in my opinion.”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, waitwaitwait! The pizza’s from Lorenzo’s?” Jennifer interjected, choosing to ignore the current by play to ask him.
“Yes, it is. Ain’t ya saw the logo?” Her co-worker replied with a question of his own before Jack could, “You really went straight for that pizza, pfff.”
“How? He’s supposed to be closed now.”
Jack hadn’t thought they might question him about this. Thankfully, he was a smooth liar. “I know a guy, some gangbanger, who knows a guy, who works with a guy, who is a cousin of that gang leader in crime alley who’s tight with the Delivery guy.” Jack explained. “Got invited to a party and went home with a pizza.”
“Huh.” Was Jennifer's unintelligent comment. While the security guard was giving him contemplative looks. “What kind of job you said you got already…?”
“Why? Curious?” Jack teased, leaning forward “Looking for a more interesting job, huh? Well, we do have an opening but fair warning, between you and me, my job kind of… blows.”
She groaned out loud and he and the security guard shared a belly laugh at the cringe joke.
‘Being cringe always does successfully divert people's attention,’ Jack thought, taking a slice of pizza for himself even as he absently avoided a wrist slap from Jennifer.
The rest of noon was spent chatting with Jennifer and Paul – which was the security guard's name – and being an overly cheery, obnoxious smartass with Jennifer while teasing her from time to time. The woman got a bite, Jack could readily admit without trouble. Because she wasn’t taking any ‘lip’ from him as she put it and gave as much as he ditched.
By the end of the conversation and impromptu lunch, he was on good terms with Paul and Jennifer too. He felt like, despite her cranky exterior, he was… not exactly making her swoon per se but he was definitely intriguing her by being a mix of intentionally mysterious and over-the-top cheerful with a dash of exaggerated naiveness, while simultaneously being shameless and daring on some occasions.
As was expected from an archetypical Chinese protagonist. Even though he was only half Chinese and never set foot in his mother’s country before – shamelessness was in his veins. It couldn’t be diluted.
Well, at least he didn’t inherit any melomaniac or trigger happy genocidal tendencies from the Chinese protagonist template.
Jack counted it as a plus.
“Well, gotta prepare for work, folks. I’ll see you around.” Jack told them, heading for the exit. “Thank you for your help once again, Jennifer. Oh, and you too I guess, Paul.”
Paul chuckled and flashed him a smirk.
“Wait, before you go, throw this in the trash on your way out, will you?” Jennifer requested, stopping him before he could leave. She was waving around a disposable handkerchief.
“Sure,” he readily accepted, taking the handkerchief from her hands before stepping outside.
Outside, the sky was shining brightly with no clouds obscuring the sun as was usual in Gotham.
Jack took to the sidewalk in the direction of his hideout, needing to change out of his civilian clothes before going to work.
When he was about to get rid of the disposable handkerchief that Jennifer had tasked him to throw out, Jack noticed a series of numbers written on the handkerchief in bright cherry red color.
He couldn't help but smirk.
‘Ah! So, she did find me charming.’ He knew that his word game and pun about Emerson's big titties hadn’t left her as indifferent and annoyed as she would have him believed.
Everything was in the delivery and timing.
As the name suggested, this ability was a simpler one. Inside his sphere of influence, he could swap the places of two inanimate objects of his choice. The only requirement was that both objects’ swapped were more or less of the same mass. The volume or density of said objects didn’t matter much.
Though, if it came to this, he could swap objects’ places regardless of any significant difference in weight, as long as it wasn’t as big of a difference as 30 kg (66 lbs). However, doing so put a huge strain on his mind and was excessively more draining and taxing. Moreover, multi-tasking – using multiple abilities at the same time like {levitate}, {almighty push}, or maintaining a {telekinesis force field} – wasn’t possible in the brief window of time he needed to concentrate to pull this feat off.
This trade-off wasn’t worth it in Jack’s opinion.
Until now that is.
Recently, he has been training extensively, taking at least one entire day a week to train his power until borderline exhaustion.
Now that he has the opportunity to properly train and experiment with his power like before the events of the last stand, he’d not waste the chance.
Jack has a lot of ideas and concepts; new ways of using [chamber] he could come up with. Or even new ways in which he could branch off or improve upon his existing abilities.
He could, for example, focus on finding a way to smash through the barrier that prevented him from interacting with living or organic things. Or he could focus on straightening his force shield so that it could hold even under heavy gunfire. Or maybe, he could work on figuring out a way to finally shape a telekinesis construct in any form he desired, outside of simply making a simple rectangle forcefield using telekinesis.
Improving his abilities and coming up with new ways of using his power would go a long way to make him feel more confident in himself. To the point he wouldn’t have to fear a direct confrontation with someone extremely strong, durable, fast or with an enormous range of attack.
He would no longer have to feel as useless as during the last stand.
As of right now though, since he re-started his training proper, he has been focusing on improving upon three or four core facets of his power.
The range of [chamber], for one, something he already increased.
For second, his ability to multitask, which he was seeing a lot of improvements on this side too.
And finally, he was constantly working on improving his power’s activation speed and reflexive reactive speed. Even though the latter was harder to keep a good track of, Jack still felt like he was steadily improving.
Today though, the biggest breakthrough he made was not in any of these categories. It was with {Switch}.
He made a major breakthrough with the ability.
The young rogue just surpassed the previous limit of {Switch}, unlocking the capacity to switch objects regardless of their mass.
As the current sight in the warehouse attested to.
Transparent forcefields were active, hovering around his entire body and encasing it, leaving only 20 cm (8”) of space between them and his skin while multiple pieces of debris were lazily floating around him. Some were spinning in place while others were floating in the air without budging. He was playing with his control by varying his commands as he maintained the objects in suspension.
With a thought, Jack switched a random small chunk of wood with a whole broken-down wardrobe.
Even then, he still managed to maintain his focus on the various tasks he was performing, not dropping any other objects or dismissing his forcefields by error. The entire process was almost effortless.
He barely felt a drain too.
With sweat running down his forehead and stinging his eyes…
‘Lovely,’ Jack smiled – a sinister smile stretching his lips.
Yeah, he was getting better and better. Stronger too. His minute control over [chamber] and its abilities was becoming even more refined.
Once upon a time, he used to dream of effortlessly performing feats like this.
And now, it was no longer a dream.
These days, the deliveries he made around Crime Alley and The Bowery felt more like impromptu, unspecified patrols than food deliveries.
Without noticing or paying attention, at some point, his deliveries started to feel like he was patrolling the streets of Crime Alley.
Since he handed the ass of some wannabe gangsters, trashed two minor gangs, and threatened some bum-asses, dead-beat homeless people who were taking advantage of children; people have caught on to the fact that where he tended to make his deliveries, there were no crimes happening.
Something they began exploiting.
Whether it was because he gained a reputation of being a strong meta-human, or because he happened to one-sidedly trash an entire group of armed mobsters…— some people have been wary of crossing his path and began eyeing him with cautiousness.
At first.
Once it became clear that he wasn’t beating up people for the hell of it or just because, but instead had a legitimately good reason to beat up these guys, most denizens of Crime Alley, The Bowery, Burnley and New Town rapidly grew accustomed to his presence and were even accepting of him.
Only common criminals like muggers and thugs, or those he wasn’t on good terms with, were acting cautiously when he was around. Same for burglars or any kind of thieves. They tended to keep to themselves when he was in the area.
All of this translated to an increase in the number of orders Lorenzo was getting in said neighborhood at a specific time of his shift.
As a result, various businesses began to open, willing to operate back in the neighborhood. A natural consequence of the feeling of safety his sheer presence brought in, he has been told.
More and more taxis were flooding the streets of Crime Alley and of The Bowery at night, he noticed too. Restaurants were opened later in the evening, food trucks were starting to appear on the streets and other public services like the post office were running back again. Heck, even the fucking people walking on the sidewalk while still vigilantly eyeing everyone and everything around them with alertness – were marginally less surly and downtrodden than before. Even though they still remained cautious and did not tend to linger around on the streets for long at night.
But that was it. There was less tension in the air. Less fear than when he first arrived.
And he was the cause of it, according to Mark and everyone he talked to.
Jack could understand why too. It was easy to see. He was the only meta-human around. The only one with a power in the whole surroundings blocks. Crime Alley used to be under Catwoman’s ‘protection’ and regularly patrolled by Batman, two to three months ago. But now, it has been up for the taking since some time and was about to, either be claimed by Black Mask, or by The Penguin.
Neither of these two villains was known for being particularly tolerable mob bosses who didn’t involve innocent civilians in their dealings.
If the alternative was him, Jack has a strong suspicion that he was going to be propped up as a ‘protector’ of some kind or something. Like Catwoman.
The… unpowered but clad in a skintight bodysuit woman, was a thief from what he heard. Not a gang leader or a mobster. And yet, people have an enormous amount of respect for the woman. She has enough street cred and rep that nobody was challenging or questioning her claim on Crime Alley when it was under her umbrella.
Even now as Jack drove through the streets of Crime Alley to his next delivery address, the people he passed by or came across were generally happy to see him. Happy.
People in Crime Alley were happy to just see him driving around…
The whole thing about gaining a good reputation was going far better than he expected.
Maybe it was even going a little too well and getting off the rails…
Before Jack could ponder further into this matter, a bright flash of light – a rush of heat – interrupted his thoughts, making him stop and urgently turn his scooter around to face the source of the disturbance.
As he skidded to a halt, his eyes fell upon a column of flames a few blocks away from his position, stretching up into dark clouds and lighting the starless night sky.
Just in time to catch the small figure of a man flying out of the flaming building's upper floor, jets of fire seemingly propelling his flight, as the man dived back into the building from a window on a lower floor.
It happened too swiftly and the man has been too far away for him to make out further details about his appearance. But he didn’t need to.
Jack had a strong suspicion of who it was.
A villain, possibly using a jetpack to propel himself, armed with a flamethrower and a grenade launcher of sorts to wreak havoc. The individual was obsessed with fire – a dangerous arsonist. Used Genius-tech to commit his crimes. Considered highly unstable and insane.
‘Firefly’.
The culprit behind the big explosion in Diamond District.
More fire shot up in the air.
And he was now putting his neighborhood into flames…
His radio suddenly came to life with a noise of static.
“Come in Rule. Come in Rule. Do you copy?”
Jack brought out his talkie-walkie from his parka and answered – eyes still locked on the sight in front of him. “Copy Lorenzo, Rule here. What’s the matter? Over.”
“What’s your position?” Lorenzo asked without ceremony.
“I’m currently around the intersection between Park William and Magnolia street. Over.”
“I see… copy that. A fire started around where you are. Wanted to know if you were in the area. You should be quite near the fire but not in the blast zone. Good.” Was Lorenzo grunted reply. “You should avoid the area and circle it when you make your deliveries. People have already called the firefighters, not sure if they will show up in time or at all. The entire situation's a mess, but there ain’t much we can do ‘bout it.”
Jack pursed his lips, staying silent.
He wasn’t a hero. Actively going after villains, busting up drug dens or weapon deals, stopping crimes or making arrests wasn’t his cup of tea. It wasn’t something he could see himself doing for a living. Being a hero meant that he would have to constantly risk his life to save people and put his well-being under danger on a very frequent basis.
'Yeah, no.' That was out of the question.
Truly being a hero was suffering. While you’d get the admiration and reverence of the people you save, you also get criticized and placed under undue scrutiny at the slightest failure or controversial decision.
It was even more unappealing considering that heroes tended to be, most of the time, on the reactive or backfoot. Heroes reacted to crimes, catastrophes or any disastrous and perilous situations that would suddenly crop up.
That wasn’t a position Jack was comfortable being in. Being reactionary, that is.
Sooner rather than later, he’d come across something way above his pay grade that would be his undoing.
That was, if he had gone ahead and chosen heroing as his calling.
Yet… and yet, this didn’t mean that he was fine with just being a spectator either. When a crime, one involving innocent civilians who shouldn’t be involved in it by a supe, was unfolding in front of his eyes… not doing something just felt wrong and would leave a bad taste in his mouth.
Especially when he could do something to prevent harm and make a difference.
Jack couldn’t act like it was none of his concern and shrug his shoulders and go on his way.
He couldn’t.
Crime Alley hasn’t seen a single police car driving around the place in more than two months. Not a single crime has been reported either.
The nearest fire station from the scene was the one neighboring Burnley; Crime Alley's only working fire station having fallen into a state of disrepair. It was the same dilapidated and abandoned fire station he climbed on top of, on the fateful night he found himself in Gotham City.
The fire station was practically at the other side of the building on fire. If a response was mounted, it would take a good 30 minutes for it to come in his most optimistic estimates. An hour in his worst.
Which was too late.
A lot of people might die before the fire was put out…
No. A lot of people would surely die by the time the fire was put out.
Nobody was expected to show up, send the arsonist packing and put out that fire.
“… Rule…?”
Jack’s eyes hardened.
“Warn the other customers that their orders will be late and their pizzas might be cold by the time I’ll be there.” He calmly stated, hand twisting the throttle on the handlebar and revving up the scooter engine as his eyes blazed up in an ethereal red light, nerves firing up. “There's a guy setting an entire building complex on fire in front of me. And people are likely caught in it. I’m not comfortable with letting that happen when I can do something about it.”
“...” There was a short pause on the other end of the line. A short silence.
But before long, Lorenzo replied with a single word.
“Understood.”
With a small roar of Sasha’s engines, Rule speeded off in direction of the fire – a red streak into the night.
Really enjoying the story, and your writing style. I hope your muse allows you to continue for a long time to come.
Thanks for the update!
Thanks for the chapter!!! Man loved the end made me think of Doctor Nefario (“We have to warn him and fast!”) Rev Rev… putter putter putter.haha
Thanks for the chapter !
Loving it so far. Hope we get some 'action' soon.
Just wondering what colour he is?
Is it abandoned?
Nope. Just taking a break from writing. Will probably return this week on Thursday like always or Saturday if something come up.