Chapter 8: Travel to Gotham
The transport van rattled along a rain-soaked highway, a beat-up white cargo van that smelled of stale pizza, Peacemaker's leather helmet lining, and the faint tang of gunpowder. Jax sat in the passenger seat, his damp clothes clinging to his skin, the ballistic vest creaking as he shifted. The grey rain fell in thick sheets, slapping the windshield with a frantic rhythm, and he muttered,
"Gotham gloom matches my mood, but this van's a death trap."
His knife twirled in his fingers, its blade catching the dim light of passing streetlamps, a nervous tic that grounded him. The Gotham dossier, with its smuggling routes and rift graffiti, weighed heavy in his pocket, its implications a puzzle he couldn't stop turning over. The system pinged, its cold voice a steady anchor.
[SYSTEM: QUEST ALERT.]
[TRAVEL TO GOTHAM FOR SMUGGLING INTEL.]
[CUMULATE SUMMONS: 1.]
[OBJECTIVE: ESTABLISH BASE OF OPERATIONS.]
Peacemaker, in the back, cranked up a heavy metal anthem about freedom and eagles, singing off-key as Eagly squawked in protest from the dashboard.
"This is my Road to Peace mix, Jax! Get fired up!" he yelled, oblivious to the rain's misery.
Harcourt, driving with white-knuckled intensity, glared at the road, her cigarette smoke curling out the cracked window.
"I hate this. I hate vans. I hate the rain. And I hate that ridiculous noise," she muttered, her voice tight with cynical wariness.
Adebayo, beside Jax, scribbled in her journal, her glasses slipping down her nose.
"Think first," she said. "Gotham's a mess. We need to be ready."
Jax grinned, twirling his knife faster.
"You know, there are actually good driving songs, Harcourt. Ones that don't sound like a bald eagle having a seizure."
"I plan the route cynically, Reed. The route needs to be taken. The sound is just a side effect of the cargo. Now shut up, or I'll turn the Road to Peace up even louder," Harcourt shot back, her foot tapping impatiently.
[SYSTEM: CUMULATE INCREASED TO 1.]
[SUMMON AVAILABLE IN 24 HOURS.]
Jax settled back, the music's vibrations thrumming through the floor. "From chaos to date night, but this ride's a nightmare," he thought, closing his eyes to accept the chaos.
Three hours later, the rain eased to a drizzle, and they crossed into Gotham, the city's skyline a jagged silhouette against a charcoal sky. They stopped at The Midnight Special, a roadside diner with flickering fluorescent lights and an air heavy with old frying oil, cheap coffee, and a musk of fear. Jax slid into a booth, his vest creaking, and ordered a multi-patty burger with chili fries, the sauce dripping onto his fingers as he ate. The locals—truckers and drifters—eyed them with suspicion, their murmurs turning hostile when Peacemaker's voice boomed.
"What are you all looking at?" he demanded, glaring at a table gossiping about their van and Jax's tactical boots.
A bulky local with a faded tattoo sneered.
"You tourist heroes think you own the place. Go back to Metropolis, cape."
Peacemaker's face went crimson, his voice rising.
"You dare question the legitimacy of my mission for freedom? I am the Champion of Peace! I'll literally make every one of you eat your own shoes to maintain order! I'll shove this entire pepper shaker up your—!"
Adebayo covered his mouth with a napkin, shouting,
"PEACEMAKER!"
Jax stood, wiping sauce from his chin, his smirk defusing the tension.
"Whoa, hey, calm down, guys. He's just upset because they don't have his favorite kind of milk here," he said, holding his hands out in mock surrender. "He's a very sensitive, very angry man-baby. We're on a 'bring peace to the angry, small-minded people' tour. Sorry for the inconvenience. The screaming will stop soon."
The locals paused, the absurdity breaking the murder in their eyes to disgust. The bulky one spat on the floor.
"Get out of my town."
"Mission successful. Peace achieved, with 90% fewer casualties than projected," Jax muttered, sitting down, his burger sauce staining his jacket. "Now I look like I fought the Hamburglar and lost."
[SYSTEM: MINOR WIN ACHIEVED.]
[+5 SP ADDED. CURRENT SP: 80.]
[CUMULATE INCREASED TO 2.]
They finished their meal in silence, the locals' wary eyes following them. As they drove out, Jax spotted rift graffiti on a bridge abutment—a stylized crack in reality, sending a chill down his spine.
At a derelict shipping yard near the docks, the air thick with salt and brine, the team stopped. Harcourt checked the dossier, Adebayo scrubbed Peacemaker's helmet, and Jax stretched, his muscles burning with Strength 2. Three thugs emerged from a black sedan, spotting the van and pulling a crowbar.
"Hey! Government pigs! Get out of here!" one yelled.
Harcourt sighed, rubbing her temples.
"I swear, this city is just one big low-level annoyance."
"Low danger, low stress," Jax said, cracking his knuckles. "No need to waste a summon. I need the practice."
[SYSTEM: LOW DANGER DETECTED.]
[SUMMONS AUTHORIZED: 1-2 ALLOWED.]
Jax moved first, his Strength 2 deflecting a crowbar swing with his forearm, the impact barely registering. He punched the thug's jaw, dropping him instantly, then took out another with a low kick and uppercut. Peacemaker nodded approvingly.
"Efficient, Jax. Not enough shouting, but efficient."
Jax tied up the thugs and found a dossier in their car—maps, manifests, and cryptic symbols detailing personnel smuggling, marked with a bat-shaped symbol.
[SYSTEM: INTEL ACQUIRED.]
[+10 SP ADDED. CURRENT SP: 90.]
Jax stood, his gaze sweeping the rooftops, the air electric with an impending storm.
"Well, this confirms it," he said, a grim smile spreading. "We're not the only ones looking for things that go bump in the night here. The local competition is about to get very unhappy."
[SYSTEM: RANDOM FLAVOR: RIFT GRAFFITI DETECTED.]
Jax tucked the dossier away, his knife twirling as he climbed into the van, the thrill of a Batman clash pulling him deeper into Gotham's chaos.
To supporting Me in Pateron .
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