"Are we there yet?" I asked, peering out the car window.
The scenery answered for me. "Hurray. It's so ugly here… I want to go back."
The White Rabbit had brought us to an old, abandoned building on the city's outskirts. This was where today's little illegal meeting was to take place.
And when it comes to vibranium, one name inevitably comes up: Ulysses Klaue. Perhaps the single biggest headache for Wakanda and its ruler, the Black Panther.
How exactly Klaue manages it, I don't know — but for several years he's been the leading supplier of the world's most expensive mineral on the black market. The fact that he's still alive, still brazenly stealing vibranium from under Wakanda's nose, is both surprising… and, in its own twisted way, commendable.
Not just anyone could pull off a stunt like that.
When I'd asked Rabbit to dig up vibranium leads, only one man had come to mind — reckless enough, insane enough, and skilled enough to rob the most technologically advanced kingdom in Africa: Ulysses Klaue.
I'd prepared for this meeting carefully; first impressions mattered here. This was my debut in the villain world, and I had no intention of looking like a discount street thug.
I stepped out in my chosen persona: a red-crimson robe flowing all the way to my boots, concealing every line of my body. My face was hidden behind a white mask, traced with intertwining swirls of amber and scarlet. A golden, hexagonal brooch with five embedded rubies clasped the robe at my chest. Metal clawed gloves glinted on my hands, and beneath the robe, segmented armor in tin-gray bristled with small spikes. My eyes glowed an unnatural fiery red thanks to special lenses.
I had borrowed the core of the look from Jack of Shadows, the main antagonist in Fable, but adjusted the cloak length to sweep to the ground. It was a figure designed to fascinate and unnerve, to project cold detachment, calculated mystery, and age-old menace. I wanted this image to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the costumed predators of this universe — not be mistaken for another dime-store lunatic.
We cast a regretful glance at the building's crumbling facade and stepped inside.
Surprisingly, the interior was far better maintained than the exterior ruins suggested. Klaue's people had clearly worked hard to disguise this as a derelict shell from the outside.
We had barely taken a dozen steps when armed lackeys blocked our way.
"Surrender your weapons!" the largest of them barked, arrogance radiating off him like bad cologne.
"What's with the tone?" I asked, letting my burning-red gaze rake over him through the mask. My voice dropped, cool and sharp as a scalpel. "Don't push it, boy."
For a moment, it felt like the temperature in the room slipped a few degrees lower. That was partly my performance — but mostly Tatsu Yamashiro.
Katana was radiating enough murderous intent to choke the air, an aura seasoned with the despair of a thousand damned souls bound into her cursed blade. The fact that this force served me only deepened the fear in the room.
The White Rabbit, as always, looked like an absurd note scribbled into a horror story — her flirty costume the only thing warming the atmosphere by a degree.
"T-this is the boss's order," the thug stammered now, the earlier swagger gone.
"Are you trying to order me?" I replied, every syllable dipped in warning. The tension ticked upward another notch.
"N-no…" He waved a man forward — a man who, despite clear nervousness, scanned us with a handheld laser device.
A flash, a tone, and an all-clear.
Handy little toy. My money was on it being a souvenir lifted straight out of Wakanda.
"You can p-pass," he managed, retreating.
"Hmm. Klaue must be fearless indeed," I remarked as we were waved through.
Our guide walked us deeper into the hideout. When we stepped into the heart of the base, a small army waited — armed with sleek, dangerous-looking tech. A proper welcome committee.
I wasn't impressed. Not because of Player's Mind numbing any fear, but because the man I was three months ago was gone. Since then, I'd learned, fought, and stocked my inventory with gear for any disaster. And I was flanked by one of the deadliest warriors on the planet.
If anyone in this building should be afraid, it was Klaue.
"So, so… you finally show," said a man seated at the center of the room, cheer in his tone. "And dressed… peculiarly, might I add. Ha!"
Ignoring him, I took a seat opposite.
"Should I address the mask, or will you take it off and show your face? It's impolite to hide, you know."
"I didn't come here for pleasantries. I need vibranium. I hear you have it," I replied — voice distorted, emotionless.
"Anything's possible… How much are we talking?"
"As much as you've got. I'll take it all."
He laughed sharply. "You might be my lucky ticket. Do you know how rare it is to find a buyer with pockets deep enough — and a face I can trust?" The jovial tone vanished, replaced by steel. "I've never seen you before. If it weren't for Bunny vouching for you, I might've thought twice — or thrice — before inviting you here. Where are you from? What do I call you?"
"I'm Jack of the Shadow."
"Of the Shadow, huh? As in, like a shadow? There but not there?" He wasn't letting go. "You exist… and yet you don't? That it?"
"You don't need to worry about that. The only thing you need to think about is selling the mineral."
"Really? Well, I've got ten kilos. I'll sell at 25 thousand per gram," Klaue said flatly.
"The market price is 10 thousand a gram," I countered, reining in his greed.
"This batch wasn't easy to get. I even lost my hand," he said, raising his prosthetic right arm — the fingers flexing into metallic claws. "Truth is, no one appreciates what costs too much. You've got cash, buy it. You don't — get lost. Your funny costume doesn't mean a thing here."
"Are you threatening me?" My voice went frostbite cold.
"Threatening? And if I were, what then? Truth is, I didn't like you from the start… Waste of my time." He glanced at his watch, a theatrical dismissal.
"You're disgusting," Rabbit snapped, outraged.
"Klaue, are you having fun?" I asked in a deep, dangerous voice. "Because I'm no clown you plucked out of the circus. Don't play games you can't win."
That was when the Soul Stealer appeared in Katana's hands — just appeared, as if from the air.
"What?!" Klaue barked, rounding on his men. "I told you to check them for weapons!"
"Well, to hell with it. You think one little knife is going to help you?"
His bravado faltered as he really looked — really saw — what she was holding.
The Soul Stealer slid free of its sheath, and the cursed steel shimmered with the twisted faces of the damned, writhing in silent torment. The air thickened with their despair, pressing into every ear, every nerve.
Tatsu stood at my back, her killing aura weaving with the robe's ominous folds and the ember‑eyed mask I wore until the two became a single, monstrous vision.
Even Rabbit, theoretically on my side, shifted uneasily.
"A boy," I said, voice heavy with disdain. "A child who doesn't know his place."
From my own inventory, I drew the ancient katana Bruce had gifted me — freely, I might add.
You know… I'm actually a pretty good actor. Maybe I should throw in something extra. Something pompous.
"Your mistake," I declared in a measured, pitiless tone, "is that you're too self‑confident… and too greedy. Greed will be your downfall." I pointed at his prosthetic hand. "Moderate your sin, mortal."
Ha. Oscar for me.
No, no — I can do better. 'Should I quickly drop another line while I'm in character?'
"Who the hell are you?" Ulysses asked, swallowing hard and edging back a step.
"Me?" My voice dropped into a low, cold register. "I'm nobody… just a shadow you'll forget — until the time comes to remember. You humans… so very amusing. Forever fighting each other, even while teetering on the brink of global genocide. I've lived for centuries, and still I can't understand you."
…Okay, maybe I went a bit far there. Actually… no. It works.
"It is not for you to judge us, Jack," Klaue replied, regaining enough composure to talk back. "We are free people. Free to choose our path."
"Free?" I gave a short, humorless laugh. "Indeed, those two in paradise were given a choice: happiness without freedom… or freedom without happiness. There was no third option. They, fools, chose freedom — and for centuries after, they yearned for shackles. That's the sorrow of the world, Klaue. You live in ignorance, blind to how many times Earth has stood on the edge of annihilation. But make no mistake — I'm not some cliché villain obsessed with world domination. That bores me."
"Then what do you want?"
"Strength," I said, clenching my fist. "Power. That's all that matters."
Klaue laughed — a short, uncertain sound — but kept his sonic claw trained on us. "Interesting. You're an interesting guy."
"Interesting indeed…..and my assistant… her sword is fascinating. The blade's called the Soul Stealer, it devours the souls of the wicked. I imagine you would be all too happy to find yourself trapped in it."
The temperature in the room dropped several degrees in a single sentence. The armed goons surrounding us shifted nervously under the combined weight of Katana's killing aura and the Soul Stealer's cursed presence. Layers of despair and death clung to every inch of air.
Honestly, pathos is a powerful thing — especially in a DC/Marvel hybrid world. I had achieved this whole atmosphere with one cursed artifact, a handy spatial pocket, and a few well‑chosen words. Humans are so wonderfully gullible.
I'd bet Katana and Rabbit were stifling laughter behind their masks. Truth be told, I was dangerously close to breaking myself.
Klaue exhaled sharply and lowered his claw. "All right. Let's start over. We're businesspeople. Peaceful. Civilized. I'll lower the price to twenty thousand per gram. Any less, I can't — I'd be selling at a loss. Stealing vibranium isn't cheap."
"Where's the metal?"
"And where's the money?"
"You'll get the money once I see the mineral," I said coldly.
He thought for a moment, then waved to his men. Two huge heavies returned with a reinforced case, setting it between us with a muted thump. Klaue popped the latches and opened it.
Inside, just as expected, lay ten kilograms of pure vibranium — the most expensive metal on Earth, its surface absorbing light and sound in an almost unnatural way.
"Ten kilos. Two hundred million dollars," Klaue said with a merchant's smile, clearly savoring the size of this deal.
I flicked him a dark green card.
"A… Latverian bank card?" he asked, eyebrows rising. "I'll have to call this in."
In this world, most criminals stash their fortunes in Latverian banks — institutions directly overseen by Victor von Doom himself. For all his villainy, Doom's word is law in his domain, and deposits in his banks are… untouchable.
Of course, there's a reason some criminals still avoid them: Doom charges a savage negative interest rate. "Pay to keep your money safe" isn't just a saying there — it's policy.
But for vibranium? Worth it. I'd moved the funds days ago, in preparation.
Klaue stepped aside, made his call, and returned grinning. "All good. Balance confirmed — two hundred million, ready to go. A pleasure doing business."
"How you mortals love to cling to worthless paper," I said, refusing to leave my persona.
"HaHa! I disagree, money is everything in this world."
'Shut up, as if I want to know, I just lost my hard earned 200 millions.'
"I look forward to… long‑term cooperation," he said, holding out his prosthetic right hand. Precautionary, no doubt — keeping the flesh one safe for actual needs.
"I don't know if you're worthy," I started.
"Don't," he cut in with a weary smile. "We both know you'll need vibranium again, or maybe something else rare. I can get anything. But I want a buyer with deep enough pockets to match my appetites. We both win."
I let the thought hang before playing along. "Very well." I walked past his offered handshake without taking it and placed my hand on the vibranium case.
In an instant, it vanished into my inventory. Around the room, Klaue's men flinched, startled — some reaching for weapons before thinking better of it.
The Soul Stealer dissolved into nothing as well, returning safely to my pocket dimension.
"How do I reach you, Jack of the Shadow?" Klaue asked. "And what exactly are you interested in acquiring?"
"You can reach me through the White Rabbit. She's the only one who knows how to find me. As for goods…" I let my gaze linger. "I'm interested only in strength and power. If what you have embodies those, bring it to me. I won't haggle the price."
…God, it burns to say that out loud.
"Agreed, Jack," Klaue said with a grin. "If I get anything… remarkable… you'll be the first I call. From now on, you're my most valued client. And for my clients, I'll do anything."
We left his lair without another word. The night air outside was sharp, a clean break from the heavy tension inside.
By the time we returned to Loreena Dodson's villa, I had everything I came for: ten kilos of vibranium, a reliable black‑market supplier, and my official debut as a new villain in this world.
The evening had been… productive.
The act was over, the stage lights dimmed.
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HELLO ALL, A NEW CHAPTER FOR ALL OF YOU, HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT.
TODAY'S WORD IS "Perspicacious"
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200 power stones means extra chapter, as soon as you get us to 200 stones, you all will get a new chapter.
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