Chapter 401: The Seventh Multiverse Line – Blackest Night
Midnight.
Tony had just moved into a new home with his wife and daughter.
Their old seaside villa in the suburbs had been destroyed during an Extremis raid.
But for Tony, with assets in the hundreds of billions, the loss was insignificant.
Due to Morgan's previous kidnapping, Pepper remained extra cautious and insisted on sleeping with her daughter—just in case she woke up in the middle of the night, turned into a Saibaman, and ran off again.
After finishing his nighttime routine, Tony lay in bed, switched off the light, and prepared to sleep.
Just as he closed his eyes, a shadow moved quietly in the darkness.
Click!
A small flame lit up the room.
A fuse began to spark and burn.
At the very first sound, Tony's eyes snapped open.
He turned to see a figure lifting the blanket.
Crackle pop!
The muffled sound of firecrackers exploded under the covers.
Tony instantly flung off the blanket and rolled off the bed, scrambling to switch on the light.
"Allen!?"
At the foot of the bed stood Allen, holding a lighter, looking quite pleased with himself.
Tony, furious, roared, "Are you insane?! Why the hell would you light firecrackers in my bed!?"
"That's for not calling me uncle."
Vengeance complete.
With a dramatic flair, Allen stepped into a teleportation portal and disappeared without a backward glance.
Tony could only sit there in stunned silence, watching the firecrackers fizzle out. Slowly, his mind drifted back to the time on the island—Allen had warned him.
"I… I $#@¥¥@… You son of a #R$#$@… Damned #@#¥#¥*…"
Tony could do nothing but shout helpless curses—many of which included generous references to the offender's maternal ancestry.
——
The Next Morning.
Allen was up bright and early.
It was Friday market day again.
Charity organizations gave out extra supplies on Fridays to help the homeless make it through the weekend when support services were closed. Extra food was provided to ensure they had enough to survive until Monday.
Amidst the crowd, Allen was rummaging through a metal bin filled with donated clothes.
"Holy crap! New shoes! They're beautiful!"
He triumphantly pulled out a pair of blue rubber flip-flops, looking thoroughly satisfied as he exited the loot box frenzy.
The volunteers weren't surprised in the slightest.
They'd gotten used to Allen showing up for supplies.
Though his hospital gown was always clean and he didn't carry the usual stench of the streets, he never took more than his share—and was often absurdly picky.
This time, he just took the flip-flops and dismissed the rest of the clothes with disdain.
"Allen, don't want a casual outfit?"
Volunteer Mary kindly asked, "Wearing a hospital gown all the time does draw weird looks."
"No thanks. I like being a mental patient."
Allen wore a proud expression that screamed I'm crazy and proud of it.
As always, his self-confidence bordered on delusion.
Seeing this, Mary gave up trying to reason with him.
In fact, most of them were aware that Allen was actually a superhero. Just… one with a few screws loose.
"This is so hard. I want the new sandals, but I can't bear to part with the ones I'm wearing."
Allen stared at the brand-new flip-flops, visibly tormented.
"How about… you wear them on your hands?" Mary suggested offhandedly.
Allen's eyes widened in shock and awe.
"I was just joking! Don't get mad!"
Worried she'd upset the mentally unstable man, Mary quickly tried to backtrack.
"Sh*t, you're a genius! Why didn't I think of that?" Allen beamed.
"..."
Before the entire crowd, Allen slipped the flip-flops onto his hands and began walking on them—doing a handstand.
"Goodbye!"
As he left, Allen even politely waved… with his feet.
That day, Gotham gained a new local legend: a mental patient walking upside-down through the streets, flip-flops on his hands. Passersby instinctively gave him a wide berth.
"Father, is that Allen?"
On a rooftop, Damian pointed at the odd figure below.
Beside him, Bruce followed the direction of his gaze, frowned, and grumbled, "Ignore him. Let him do whatever he wants."
The antics of the "Comedy Troupe" had been increasing lately, leaving Bruce overwhelmed.
And Allen—the ringleader—was nowhere to be found when it came to keeping them in check. That made Bruce all the more frustrated.
Just then, Allen came to a stop, looking toward a patch of lawn beside an apartment building.
"Old-school TV."
The lawn had become a makeshift giveaway site where unwanted furniture was left out for others to take. In America, labor costs for removal were high—getting someone to haul the stuff off could run into the hundreds.
"Wild loot spawn!"
Allen checked to make sure no one was watching, then sprinted over and snatched up the TV, racing back to Arkham Asylum.
See, last time he dimension-traveled, he brought back a box of Sadako (The Ring) VHS tapes. And you needed an old TV to play those.
First off, he had no money. Second, no one sold obsolete junk like that.
Excitedly, he carried the TV all the way back to Arkham.
The security guards on duty stared in confusion.
In their experience, Allen usually only came back in the middle of the night. Showing up during the day? Definitely off-pattern.
But then again, who cared what went on in the mind of a lunatic?
Once back in his room, Allen locked the door behind him.
He plugged in the TV, switched it on, and confirmed it was working.
"Sadako, it's been so long. We're finally together again."
Grinning, he reached into his pants and pulled out a VHS tape, feeding it into the player beneath the screen.
Then, with anticipation in his eyes, he lowered his pants to his knees, facing the screen directly.
"I'm gonna give Sadako a surprise. That ring on the tape—consider it a proposal. Hehehe… she's gonna be so happy."
But then—his smile froze.
——
'Time anchor point locked. Host is now eligible for dimensional travel.'
'Available classes: Knight, Necromancer, Druid.'
'Friendly Reminder: Experience gain for the seventh class is increased by 150% difficulty.'
——
The sudden seventh multiverse jump caught Allen completely off-guard.
"System! You're doing this on purpose!"
He shouted, "You seriously don't want me to find love?! Am I doomed to be single forever!?"
The system timer began counting down the available selection period. Allen, however, ignored it, continuing to rant and rave.
——
'Selection timed out. Random assignment in progress.'
'Congratulations! You have been assigned the Necromancer class.'
——
'Multiverse lines available for entry:'
'Justice-aligned: Wonder League, Elemental Council, Cybertron.'
'Villain-aligned: Kang Dynasty, Deadpool Corps, Blackest Night.'
——
"I'm not picking. I'm having a date with Sadako."
Allen fumed, "Even King Shark has a girlfriend! I'm the main character! How am I still single? Where's the justice? Where's the damn author? I demand a harem! I want to be a player! I want to sleep with 'em all and ditch 'em after!"
Lost in his rant, Allen completely ignored the system countdown.
He was already used to being passively dragged into these scenarios—at this point, he didn't even care where he ended up.
——
'Selection timed out. Random assignment in progress.'
'Congratulations! You have been assigned the "Blackest Night" timeline.'
(Support me and read ahead on Patreøn: patreøn.com/craxxtranslations. Thank you for your support!)
