Fighting Batman was hard. Lucian felt that his predecessor wasn't much stronger than he himself was without Full Cowling active, but his sheer skill made it so that Lucian could never maintain a significant edge. Almost every single one of his attacks had been averted or deflected in that brief spar they had not long ago, and and attacks that did hit were no more than glancing blows. Still, despite that, he had a good time.
This guy, though. Fighting a less-than-sane man hopped up on Venom was not fun. Sure, he was slow and predictable, but just one hit could take his head off. One wrong move and he was done. Lucian could die to absolute horseshit—those were the stakes that this fight had for him—and he did not like it.
The crowd roared for more at another narrow miss. Lucian barely slipped under the clumsy high kick by collapsing like a ragdoll. Before his enemy could turn around, he'd already gotten up and delivered a powerful elbow strike to the spine.
A different kind of roar filled Lucian's ears this time: one of pain and fury.
Once again, his enemy tried to swing at him with a wild backhand. Just like many times before, he dodged it with ease.
'This is getting fucking annoying,' Lucian grumbled to himself. He'd been bruising this guy for the better part of five minutes now, and he's shown no signs of going down so far.
'I guess Venom's no joke, huh?'
By now, Lucian figured that the crowd should have been getting tired. It was around this point that they'd get bored of the more 'ordinary' fights, after all.
Sparing a quick glance around proved him right. There was less cheering now, but it wasn't quite to the extent he'd expected. Mostly, the audience had grown tense.
That made sense. He'd gone undefeated thus far—to watch him fall here would be quite the upset.
Lucian was seriously out of ideas. He couldn't go past 2% of Full Cowling because his lightning would start to show. Not that there was a ban on metahumans or anything like that. Hell, they let this Venom user fight in the ring. It was more that people would make the connection between the Phantom and the Manticore if One for All's energy leakage showed in his ring matches.
He'd asked Penny before as a possible coverup, but he couldn't change the color of his lightning—not that it would've ever helped much in the first place. The only reason he'd even resorted to 2% this time was because he figured that the flowing hair wouldn't seem too weird with how much he'd been moving around.
Back to the fight itself, Criminal's [Opportunistic Instinct] hadn't been pinging him to anything new. It had just been showing him the usual weak spots that he'd been exploiting since the start of the fight.
He was just beginning to contemplate forfeiting out of frustration when suddenly...
'Well... ain't that somethin'?'
Intrigue filled Lucian's mind. He would never have seen it without his superhuman visual acuity, but he noticed some distortions around his opponent's body. Specifically, they appeared around the various rings on his fingers, the piercings on his face, as well as the decorative iron cuffs around his wrists and ankles.
[Opportunistic Instinct] was now also pinging him to something new: something coming from Matchstick and Gomez' usual bench.
'So he's a meta too, huh? He's a real one for this.'
Capitalizing on the unexpected support, Lucian started pummeling the enemy with every bit of power that he could muster. Every full-strength blow rang out like sledgehammers crashing into stone, and the recoil from every impact would sting his fists and forearms. Luckily for him, [Minor Regeneration] made sure that the pain would never last.
[Opportunistic Instinct] pinged him every time one of his enemy's movements would be hindered or redirected, and he'd slip in and strike with everything he had.
In the end, the rest of that match barely lasted a minute. His opponent went down, and the Phantom was once again victorious.
...
The temporary replacement announcer declared Lucian's victory as the Venom doper fell over like a Jenga tower. The green glow in his eyes and veins began to dissipate, and blood had started oozing from his ears, nose, and tear ducts.
'And there's the consequences of abusing experimental supersoldier drugs,' Lucian mused.
Not wanting to waste any more time, he hopped right out of the ring and into the back where Gomez and Matchstick were.
"Looks like I got really lucky there," he said as he landed.
"Yeah. You really did, huh?" Gomez shook his head, barely suppressing a chuckle. "I'll give you your winnings this time. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but it looks like you've got eyes on you."
"I'm well aware," Lucian affirmed, readily accepting the $1,500 payout from Gomez. "Tell the twins goodbye for me."
"Will do." Gomez nodded.
"Also," Matchstick leaned in, "see that guy over there?"
He gestured over to one of the people in the waiting area using his inordinately long and pointy chin. The individual in question glowered at Lucian with palpable hatred.
Lucian recognized him, though only barely; when they had fought in the ring, he used to be much slimmer—the fighter had maybe a dozen pounds or two on him. Now, he was some 30-40% bulkier than before, and it was impossible to miss the green glow in his eyes.
"Sounds like bad news," he commented after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring. "I'll be taking my leave, then," he said finally before darting into a dark alley and climbing up within seconds.
...
"Shit... he's gone," said a man in a shitty suit, hands on a polished handgun that didn't fit his appearance.
"That guy's just way too fast," said another like the first one. "'That meathead would weaken him' my ass."
Frustration mounting, the group of ten-or-so armed men left the venue for Paulie's ring, their mission unsuccessful. Behind them, however, two figures trailed. One tall and broad, the other just as tall, yet spindly with unsettlingly long arms.
Just as they were about to turn into their escape vehicle, their firearms flew out of their hands, and a brilliant orange light blinded them.
"Cremate 'em 'til there's nothing left," said a deep, rumbling voice.
"As per usual," a rough, higher-pitched voice responded. "Paulie's gonna cover for us, so this much should be fine."
That was the last thing that the hired guns would ever hear.
...
Meanwhile, a drone had been flying high above the buildings, broadcasting the footage live to a screen in some dark room elsewhere.
"Mr. Orwell. It's time," said the man in control of the drone. "He's up on one of the rooftops counting his money like expected."
The screen before him displayed a bird's-eye view of the area surrounding Paulie's ring, and it managed to catch the Phantom climbing up a narrow gap between some buildings.
"Make sure you get him... he might be a good recipient for the experimental formula."
...
[ Quick report. ]
[ 6 prize-fighting victories. 1 of 6 rounds was against a superhuman. 500 EXP + 250 EXP granted. ]
[ Earned $1,500 in prize money. EXP cap has been exceeded greatly; 50% bonus will be applied. 375 EXP granted. ]
[ Your last battle had gotten desperate. Despite the pressure, you didn't cave and did your best to maintain your cover. Assistance was given by a third party, but the Headmaster commends you for your mental fortitude. EXP bonus: 250 ]
[ EXP total: 1,375 ]
[ EXP to next level: 276 ]
"Thanks, Penny," Lucian whispered. "[Justice Sense] and [Opportunistic Instinct] are pinging me to an incoming threat. Feels like they wanna abduct me. That drone I heard means we're being watched, so should I run?"
[ For your safety, I advise that you do run. I have a bad feeling about this, Luce. ]
"Yeah. Let's get the fuck outta here."
– ৹ – ৹৹◎৹৹ – ৹ –
[[ New Quest: Hold L-Shift to Run ]]
Description: You've caught unwanted attention, and now they're after your ass. You need to run. Escape without your identity being discovered.
Time Limit: none
Objectives:
[1] Escape your pursuer.
[2] Maintain the secret of the Phantom's identity.
Rewards:
[1] 200 EXP, and a random D-grade item.
[2] 300 EXP, and a random C-grade item, or one Basic non-class ability of your choosing.
– ৹ – ৹৹◎৹৹ – ৹ –
'I should run towards the GCPD headquarters and turn on the Bat-Signal. Getting in contact with Commissioner Gordon should be a good move in the long run. Let's go.'
◎ ◉ ◎
Ricardo Arnaldo Orwell—known to some as just Rico—had been a promising fighter even in his youth. In ordinary circumstances, fighting in arenas that basked in clean public attention would have brought him much glory and wealth. Unfortunately for him, he had seen the sorts of promises that the underworld had to offer, and didn't want to settle for the comparatively subpar 'clean' rewards.
The underworld's promises were shifty at best, sure, but he was certain that they were attainable if nothing else. Hell, he even had help, so he believed that his chances were even better.
What might that help be?
One Aleck Donovan had approached him one day, after a particularly gruesome victory in some back alley betting fight. The young businessman claimed to recognize his potential, and spoke of wanting to sponsor and support him on his endeavors—all he wanted in return to reap a portion of the rewards for Rico's victories. On top of that, Aleck had even promised to endorse him, and arrange matches that he would be guaranteed to win.
There were more benefits such as a comfortable lifestyle and his choice of women, but listing them all would be tedious. Having grown up with barely anything to his name, Rico accepted.
During their time working 'together,' Aleck had offered Rico something that could exponentially improve his fighting prowess: an experimental alternative version of some infamous steroidal compound known as "Venom."
Aleck's father had been dealing the stuff since a steady supply came into the black market, dispensing diluted agents to most crooks. As for their bigger customers... the substances that they could be afforded increased in purity the more they paid.
He had always refused the steroid, seeing it as a crutch that would eventually ruin him. His opinion of it changed one night, during what was supposed to have been an easy match. He had never fought against a meta-human before, so he never realized how powerful they could be.
At first, when he learned on the spot that his opponent would be some guy using "the Phantom" as his stage name, he scoffed. Seeing his opponent climb up into the ring only reinforced his negative opinion.
'The Phantom' covered his face with a cheap cardboard mask. That made him look overconfident; it could come flying off at any moment in a fight, but he wore it anyway. Then, there was the edgelord getup... wearing all black while hiding his face? Really?
Rico really started to question the legitimacy of this particular prize-fighting venue—however ironic that might have sounded.
On top of that, the Phantom was way too slim to be fighting in these underground rings. Surely, all of his fights had been for show. Somewhere along the line, Rico figured that someone was supposed to communicate to him to throw the fight. Still, seeing as he had never been approached by anyone in charge to relay that message, he figured he had an excuse to let loose.
'If this is the best fighter they've seen in this place,' he thought to himself at the time, 'then I wonder how they'll react to me winning...'
What happened after that took him by absolute surprise. By all accounts, it didn't make sense.
The Phantom toyed with him. Made a spectacle out of him, got a rise out of the audience before ultimately laying him out on his ass. It had been a one-sided beating, and the worst of it was that the Phantom seemed to have been trying to avoid injuring him too much
He had been completely mortified.
Even when he brutally beat up his own opponents, he'd never made a show out of it. It was all for the sake of victory; what the peanut gallery thought or felt never mattered to him. In his mind, his pride as a fighter had been insulted by being the centerpiece of a mockery of battle. With that on the line, he finally broke. After years of persuasion on Aleck's part, Rico finally accepted Venom.
'There he is again, making a show of his opponent,' he thought furiously. Watching the Phantom fight from down in the bleachers made him feel even worse humiliation than when he'd been in the ring with him.
Five whole rounds, all consecutive victories, none with any real effort put into them.
'What a fucking joke,' he thought every time one of the fighters fell to the Phantom's 'entertainment first' fighting style. He was really feeling the want to use Venom now—true desire, and not just necessity.
He'd been using it since his first encounter with the Phantom, of course. Even now, the drug coursed through his bloodstream. Aleck funded an operation that installed a 'Venom pump' on the nape of his neck, which would constantly supply him with the steroid in microdoses to keep him doped up at a manageable level. This wouldn't give him quite as much power as full doses or a steady stream, but he would suffer no adverse effects either. It was a net win for him.
On top of that, he could activate the device on his neck to give him a real dose in the case of 'a rainy day.' And boy did it start pouring that night.
"Mr. Orwell," said a voice in his earpiece. "You're up."
'About fucking time,' he thought. Pressing a button on his earpiece, Rico asked, "Is he stationary? Does it look like he's planning on moving any time soon?"
"He's up on one of the rooftops, counting his money like expected," said Aleck, who had taken it upon himself to monitor the Phantom. "I'd stay on the ground, though. No doubt, he'll get moving soon. Once he's down, I'll tell you; that'll be your cue to chase and corner him."
"Got it, boss," Rico said simply. He removed his finger from the earpiece and left the venue of Paulie's ring.
He thought back to something else while walking out of the alleys... he was supposed to receive a 'reward' for his steady and reliable cooperation that day. Unfortunately, said reward seemed to have 'rescheduled'—claimed to be sick.
Rico didn't care too much—Aleck always did offer him women of the night. But if this had been just another whore, Rico wouldn't have cared at all.
Supposedly, his 'reward' was supposed to be one of Aleck's personal girls. Rico wasn't too fond of the idea of getting inside of used goods, but hey. He's been in actual prostitutes before. This girl having been used by only his 'boss' was objectively an improvement.
It didn't matter too much in the end, but he figured he could use getting cockblocked as a bit more motivation for when he finally got to bash the Phantom's face in.
— — — — — — — —
[A/N]: Yo. I planned to post this sooner... some four-ish hours ago. Unfortunately, I slept in because Stardew Valley has me in a chokehold again. Manywae, I also forgor that I could schedule chapters, so I'm an absolute [🤡] rn
I'll try my best to rember for next time :P
[pls giv stone, will make happie]